Music of the Distant Stars Read Free

time for false modesty, child. I’m dying, and I’ve still got two of your brothers and Goda’s pair to see yet. Come on, say what you’re thinking.’
    I took a breath to steady myself. ‘You want me to become a bard.’ There. I’d said it. I felt my face, neck and throat flush with the sudden rush of hot blood.
    ‘No, Lassair,’ Granny said softly.
    I hung my head, shame flooding me. How had I dared to presume to take on Granny’s role, to think I could fill the shoes of one such as her? Why—
    ‘Look at me.’
    I made myself meet Granny Cordeilla’s eyes. They were crinkled up in a smile, and she was looking at me with such love that a sob broke out of me. Her hand made a small movement where it lay on the clean linen sheet and, realizing what she wanted, I took it between mine. Hers was cool.
    ‘So warm,’ she murmured, her fingers entwining with mine. Then she said, ‘You do not need to become a bard, Lassair. You have a very good memory, and all the skill you will require runs in your blood, for you are my granddaughter and Leir the Bard was your kinsman.’ She paused, a faraway look on her face as if she saw things I could not see. ‘Every one of us,’ she went on, ‘Leir, me, you, all the other extraordinary storytellers, singers and poets in the family, are descended from Ligach the Pearl Maiden of the Fens, the most famous bard of all time. Her talent was bestowed on her by the gods,’ Granny added with pride thrumming in her voice, ‘and she sang before kings.’
    I could not speak. Yes, I’d had an inkling that Granny was going to say it was up to me to take on the bard role, but I’d thought it was because, out of all the family, it was I who clamoured most frequently to hear her tales. I’d never dreamed I would be commanded to take my place as the latest in this long family line of illustrious ancestors.
    It was quite a lot to take in.
    Granny squeezed my fingers again, then let me go. ‘You’ll get used to the idea,’ she said briskly. Then, wrapping her shawl more closely around her thin shoulders, she flapped her hand in dismissal and told me to send in my brother.
    I only had one more conversation with her after that. Then she died.
    I don’t know how long I stood there staring down into Granny’s grave. It felt like an age, but I don’t suppose it was very long really. I couldn’t stop myself from speaking to her, calling out to her, even though I knew she couldn’t hear me.
    ‘Granny, I’m sorry, I’m so, so sorry!’ I sobbed. ‘We should have stayed with you, then this – this desecration wouldn’t have happened! Oh, who did this to you?’
    I paused, my grief overcoming me. It was such a recent loss, and I was still raw, for I had loved my Granny Cordeilla very much. Doing everything just right had been a consolation; the funerary rites had eased the pain, as I imagine is their purpose. But, oh, now this awful thing had happened, and everything was spoiled, we’d have to—
    It was a sort of miracle, I suppose; I heard – or thought I heard – Granny’s voice.
    It’s not your fault, child , she said, softly but firmly. It sounded as if she was speaking from a long way away, and almost at once I realized I wasn’t hearing through my ears but right inside my head. Stop standing there howling and pull yourself together! That was typical Granny, so much so that I smiled and a sort of snorty laugh broke out of me. Funeral rites are for the living , she went on decisively, and although I’m grateful for what you have all done, it is not that important, certainly not enough for you to get in such a lather about .
    ‘Not important?’ I cried, amazed and shocked. ‘But—’
    Don’t interrupt , Granny said. C hild, think about what is important .
    I thought. ‘Your grave has been violated,’ I began, ‘and—’
    Nonsense , Granny interrupted. That doesn’t matter, as I’m no longer there .
    Shock after shock; whatever did she mean, she was no longer there?