His cloak whipped back from his shoulders and rippled behind them, a swath of blue in the sunshine that streamed across the land.
They thundered past the first villages. Unlike the Dalvador Plains, where houses were whitewashed and had colored roofs, here the entire structures were glowing hues: blue, green, ruby, or gold-stalk. Although Vyrl could have sought out the Bard in any village, he headed for Rillia itself, the largest city in the settled lands. The Bard in a small town might wonder why an unfamiliar young couple went to him rather than their own Bard, but in a large town with many visitors, it would be more natural.
However, going to Rillia also carried risk; Lord Rillia, who ruled both the Dalvador Plains and Rillian Vales, knew Vyrl's father. As the Dalvador Bard, Vyrl's father was the highest authority in the Plains, or at least as much an authority as their people accepted. He not only served Dalvador; he also presided over the Bards in the other Plains villages. But Lord Rillia held authority over all the Bards, including Vyrl's father.
The Bards acted as judges and mediators, performed marriages, officiated at naming ceremonies, and recorded the history of their people in ballads. Vyrl's father had a glorious baritone, a voice Vyrl loved to hear. Every village also had a Memory. She recorded current events in her mind, performed rites of celebration at festivals, and served as a scholar in the women's temple, where acolytes learned and stored knowledge. Together, the Memory and Bard formed the government of a village.
This morning, Vyrl watched the skies constantly, fearing to see a flash of gold-and-black metal. He had 'neglected' to tell Lily that before he had shown up at her house last night, he had gone to the starport— and sabotaged the shuttle. Lily would chide him when she found out, but even so, it had needed doing. His tampering wouldn't hold off pursuit for long, only until the port staff repaired the shuttle or the military sent down another from the ships in orbit, but Vyrl and Lily didn't need long. Only today.
They reached the city of Rillia in late morning. It was large enough to need several Bards, none of whom Vyrl had met. He chose one who lived on the city outskirts in a green-stalk house that glowed like an emerald. As Moonglaze trotted into the courtyard, Lily twisted around to look up at Vyrl, her eyes as huge as a colt startled by a loud noise.
He cupped his hand around her cheek. 'Shall we go in?'
She gave him a tremulous smile. 'Yes. Let's.'
He swung off Moonglaze, his cloak swirling, his booted feet landing with a thump on the ground. Then he helped Lily off the powerful lyrine. A towheaded boy came into the yard and waited to take Moonglaze back to the glasshouse, to be tended and fed. Vyrl gave the boy two turquoise stones for his trouble. Although the youth was only a few years younger than Vyrl and Lily, he treated them as if they were adults.
Moonglaze, however, nickered when the boy tried to lead him away. Then the lyrine nudged Vyrl's shoulder, pushing him toward Lily.
'See?' Vyrl grinned at her. 'He knows.'
She patted the animal's head. 'You're a good lyrine, Moon. You go ahead. We will be fine.'
Moonglaze snorted, then shook his head and turned away. He walked regally past the boy, his horns held high, his violet coat glossy in the sunlight. The youth hurried after him and grabbed his reins, trying to look as if he were leading the great lyrine instead of the other way around.
Vyrl held his hand out to Lily, and she put her small one in his large grip. Together, they walked to the Bard's door.
Flames flickered within jade lamps, and candles burned around the chamber, filling it with radiance. Vyrl, Lily, the Bard, and the Bard's wife had crowded into the circular room. The Memory stood by the curving emerald wall, her green robe brushing the floor; with her holographic memory, she was recording the ceremony, every word and promise, and images as well.
Vyrl stood facing Lily, holding her hands and gazing down at her face. She filled his sight, her pretty face tilted up to him, a wreath of silvery-green fronds and gold bubbles braided into her hair.
The Bard continued in his mellow voice. 'May the love you share fill your lives, and that of your children, grandchildren, and more, keeping alive the line of your heart.'
Guided by his words, Vyrl and Lily promised their lives to each other. Then the Bard sang for them, his lustrous tenor filling the chamber, his words graceful in their evocation of love under the Blue and Lavender Moons.
Vyrl's thoughts overflowed with
The Bard and his wife accompanied Lily and Vyrl into the courtyard. While they waited for the boy to bring Moonglaze, Vyrl scanned the heavens and was relieved to see nothing unusual, no metallic glints, just the normal lavender sky and blue clouds.
The Bard pointed out a half-finished tower that rose above the roofs of the town. 'The metal-works needs laborers for the new building they are raising.' He glanced kindly at Vyrl. 'A big, strong fellow like yourself could earn a place to live, meals for your family, and stones for trade.'
His wife smiled at Lily, the lines around her eyes crinkling. 'They're needing counters, too. Always looking for a girl with a sharp mind to keep records. It could be a fine start for a young couple.'
Their good-natured concern touched Vyrl. 'We thank you, kind lady and sir.' Lily murmured similar sentiments. Vyrl wished they could lead the simple life these fine people envisioned for them, setting up a home with no worries beyond food, shelter, and children. 'Perhaps when we return, we will visit the metal-works boss.'
The Bard chuckled. 'Ah, I am too old. What newlyweds want to start work the day of their marriage, eh?' He paused as the boy came around the house leading Moonglaze. Then he asked, 'Where be you off to now?'
'We aren't sure,' Lily admitted. 'We're traveling.'
Moonglaze walked grandly up to them, watching Vyrl first with one large eye, then the other, turning his head to give himself a good view. The lyrine growled deep in his throat.
'What, ho?' Vyrl scratched him behind his horn. 'Are you angry with me?'
Moonglaze nickered, mollified by the attention. He butted Lily's arm, pushing her against Vyrl.
The Bard laughed. Then he slapped Vyrl on the back. 'Off with you, eh? You two go have your time together.'
'My thanks, good sir.' Vyrl was pleased to find Moonglaze had been well tended and the backpack was still secure in the travel bags. Excellent! He swung up onto the animal, relishing the motion, his body thrumming with energy. Reaching down, he helped Lily up in front of him. Then he hugged her hard, leaning his head around to kiss her cheek.
'A safe journey to you,' the Bard called up to them.
The Bard's wife started to speak, then paused. Although Vyrl couldn't pick up emotions from other people as well as he did from his family, he sensed her turning over ideas much as he might glimpse a wisp of mist curling through glass-stalk trees.
She spoke thoughtfully to her husband. 'I have some concerns about our cabin. With no one to look after it, the place lies empty and unattended. Who knows what might happen?'
'Ah, so, this is true.' The Bard considered Lily and Vyrl up on Moonglaze. 'Then again,' he continued, as if speaking to his wife even though he was looking at his guests, 'perhaps we may convince some nice young couple to spend a few days looking after the place.'
Vyrl hesitated. His first impulse was to decline; the future was too uncertain for them to take on new responsibilities. But his empath's mind felt their intent, like a meadow creek burbling with goodwill. They were offering their secluded cabin so he and Lily could spend their wedding night in safety and warmth instead of sleeping in the forest.
'Lily?' Vyrl asked in a barely audible voice.
'Yes,' she murmured, understanding his unspoken question.
Vyrl nodded to the Bard and his wife, letting his gratitude show. 'We would be honored, gentle lady and sir, to look after your cabin for a few days.'
The woman beamed at him. 'Such good manners.'
The Bard tilted his head, studying first Vyrl, then Moonglaze. A shiver of unease ran up Vyrl's back as he caught the man's mood; the Bard wondered at his visitor's accomplished style and magnificent lyrine. At home, as a farmer's son, Vyrl tended to forget he was the son of the Dalvador Bard and the queen of an Imperial dynasty. His
