aren’t as intelligent as we are, Sister, but that doesn’t mean they aren’t wise. And it doesn’t mean we don’t love them as much as you two-foots do, or that their hearts aren’t just as deep as ours. A courser needs less looking after than one of the lesser cousins, but I would be very angry with you if you didn’t give Boots stable space right along with me. Besides,› her tone lightened and Leeana heard a silent laugh, ‹ it will do you good to spend a little time on one of the lesser cousins on a regular basis. In fact, it’s a pity Bahzell can’t do the same. It would make him appreciate Walsharno more.›
‹ True, too true,› Walsharno agreed. ‹ Of course, it would crush the poor lesser cousin. Oh, the burdens I bear!›
“Thank you, dearheart,” Leeana said softly, patting Gayrfressa’s shoulder. “I don’t know for certain about his heart, but it would’ve broken mine to simply walk away from him.”
“Then I’m thinking it’s-”
Bahzell’s voice broke off in midsentence, and the coursers stopped in perfect unison, as someone else joined the discussion. Two someone elses, in fact.
Tomanak Orfro, God of War and Judge of Princes, appeared before them with the tall, wind-blown grass stirring about his boots. Ten feet tall, he stood-tall enough to put even coursers into perspective-with his sword across his back and his mace at his belt, but Bahzell had become accustomed to that on those occasions when he met his deity face-to-face. It was the midnight-haired woman at his side, who’d appeared as silently and effortlessly as Tomanak himself, who managed to take even Bahzell Bahnakson aback.
She was taller than any mortal woman, although still rather shorter than Tomanak, with a regal, womanly beauty, and she regarded Bahzell, Leeana, and the coursers with sapphire eyes deeper than the sea. Her gown glowed and flowed, gleaming somehow with a deep, cool silver luminance even in the bright sunlight, and a beautifully carved ivory moon hung between her rich breasts from a chain of wrought silver set with plaques of opal.
“Bahzell,” Tomanak said that in that earthquake voice that seemed to take the Wind Plain by the scruff of the neck and shake it with gentle power. Bahzell nodded back to him, and Tomanak smiled. But then the god’s smile faded.
“This is a day long awaited, my Sword,” he said.
“Is it now?” Bahzell inquired politely when Tomanak paused.
“It is. Although, like so much about you mortals, it isn’t quite what we’d expected.” The god cocked his head at Gayrfressa, who simply looked back at him, meeting his gaze with her single eye. “An interesting development, Wind Daughter,” Tomanak said to her. “But great heart knows great heart.”
“Yes, it does,” another voice agreed. It was as powerful as Tomanak’s own, that voice, but as different as wind from earth, and it sang, for it wasn’t a single voice. It was three, combined, flowing together in perfect a cappella harmony, and Bahzell suddenly wished Brandark could have been there. One of those voices was a high, sweet soprano, sparkling with youth and the joy of beginnings, yet almost cool and deeply focused. The second was deeper and richer, blurring the line between mezzo soprano and contralto, confident and strong, reaching out as if to embrace and strengthen everyone within its reach. And the third…the third was softer-sadder perhaps, or perhaps more weary. There was a hardness in that third voice, a coldness, and yet it, too, reached out as if to offer solace and comfort and acceptance at the end of day.
“Great heart always knows great heart when they meet,” those voices sang now, and those sapphire eyes moved from Gayrfressa to Leeana. “Yet not all hearts, for all their greatness, have the courage to reach beyond themselves as yours has, Daughter.”
“My heart had good teachers, Mother,” Leeana replied, meeting that bottomless blue gaze as fearlessly as ever Bahzell had met Tomanak’s.
“Yes, it did,” Lillinara Orfressa acknowledged. “Would that all of my daughters had mothers fit to give their wings such strength.”
“It wasn’t only Mother, Milady,” Leeana said. “I love her dearly, but anything I am today isn’t her work alone.”
“No. No, it isn’t. And despite what even many of my followers believe, it isn’t true that men find no favor in my eyes, Daughter. Not even in the full dark of the moon, when the taste of justice burns hottest on my tongue. Man and woman were always meant for one another, and my heart is filled with joy when they find one another- when they know one another as your mother has known your father through all the years of joy and pain…and as you know Bahzell.”
Those deep, dark eyes moved to Bahzell as she spoke, and the hradani felt their weight. He felt them measuring and evaluating, weighing and trying, testing strengths and weaknesses not even Tomanak had touched so directly. He met them steadily, shoulders squared, and slowly, slowly she nodded.
“You are all my brother has said, Bahzell, son of Arthanal. I see why he thinks so highly of you…and so do I.”
“I’m naught but what you see before you, Lady,” he replied.
“Perhaps not, but what I see before me is quite enough.” She smiled. “Many men can die obedient to their sworn word, or for justice, or to defend the weak, but not all of them do it out of love.”
“And not all of them are called upon to give up so much for love,” Tomanak rumbled. Bahzell and Leeana both looked at him, and he smiled at them. That smile was warm, yet there were shadows in it, and in his eyes.
“Grief awaits you, children,” he told them softly. “Love is mortal kind’s greatest and most painful treasure. When another’s happiness is more important to you than your own, the time must always come when darkness shadows the light and the joy you’ve taken from and given to one another. It will be so with you.”
“Grief is part of life, Milord,” Leeana said, reaching out to reclaim Bahzell’s hand. “That’s why you gave us love, so we could cope with the grief.”
“An interesting theory,” Tomanak told her with a smile. “Yet the truth is that love surpasses us in ways no mortal can fully understand. You are full of surprises, you mortals-so weak in so many ways, and yet so strong because of your weaknesses. So easily drawn to the shadow, so many of you…and such blazing torches against the Dark.” He shook his head. “The courage you show in facing every day of your mortal lives puts the courage of any god or goddess to shame, Leeana Hanathafressa. Did you know that?”
“No.” It was her turn to shake her head. “We only do our best, Milord.”
“Which is the most anyone, god or mortal, could ask of you,” he agreed. “And which is also the only thing you and Bahzell-or Walsharno and Gayrfressa-know how to give.”
None of the mortals knew how to respond to that. They only looked back at him, and he smiled. Then his smile faded, and he reached out one enormous hand to touch first Bahzell’s head, and then Leeana’s. They felt the power to shatter worlds singing in his fingers, yet that mighty hand was as gentle as a bird’s wing, and his eyes were gentler yet.
“I have no desire to embarrass any of you, my children, and great hearts that you are, it does embarrass you when anyone sings your praises. That’s why you’re so much more comfortable turning deep emotion aside with jokes and insults. But what you give to all about you is the reason Lillinara and I have come to you today.”
“The reason?” Bahzell repeated in an unwontedly humble voice.
“The war maids’ charter denies you something both you and Leeana long for, my Sword, whether you would admit it even to yourselves or not. Your parents, your friends, will recognize that the ‘freemating’ to which the law restricts a war maid is a true marriage, one of heart and soul and not simply of the flesh. Yet both of you know not everyone will share or accept that truth. Not even a god can change the heart of someone who hates or denigrates with blind, unreasoning bigotry. But we know, Lillinara and I, and whatever the law of mortals may say, we are not bound by charters or legal codes or custom.”
“Great heart knows great heart, I said,” Lillinara sang, “and so do we. So tell us, my children, do you truly take one another as man and wife? Will you cleave to one another through times of joy and times of sorrow? Will you love, protect, care for one another? Will you share your lives in the face of all this world’s tempests and bring one another at the end of everything into the still, sweet calm of your love?”
“Aye, that I will, Lady,” Bahzell replied, raising Leeana’s hand to his lips.
“And I,” Leeana replied, equally firmly, turning to smile not at the goddess but into Bahzell’s eyes.
“Then hold out your left hands,” Tomanak said.
Bahzell released Leeana’s hand and they both extended their left arms.
“Blood of blood,” Tomanak rumbled.
