The Forgotten Beasts of Eld Read Free Page B

child.” She paused a moment, her ivory brows crooked a little. “I think I do love him. He is soft, and he fits so into my arms, and if Coren of Sirle came for him again, it would be hard to give him up.”
“So.”
“So, what?”
“So it is Drede’s child. I have been hearing about that from my birds.”
“Coren said it is Norrel’s child.”
The thin lips smiled. “I do not think so. I think he is the son of Drede the King. There is a raven at the King’s palace whose eyes never close...”
Sybel stared at her, lips parted. She drew a slow breath. “I do not understand such things. But he is mine now to love. It is very strange. I have had my animals for sixteen years, and this child for one night; and if I had to choose one thing from all of them, I am not sure that I would not choose this thing, so helpless and stupid as he is. Perhaps because the animals could go and require nothing from anyone, but my Tam requires everything from me.”
The woman watched her, rocking back and forth in her chair, rings flashing on her still hands, fire-flecked.
“You are a strange child... so fearless and so powerful to hold such great, lordly beasts. I wonder you are not lonely sometimes.”
“Why should I be? I have many things to talk to. My father never spoke much—I learned silence from him, silence of the mind that is like clear, still water, in which nothing is hidden. That is the first thing he taught me, for if you cannot be so silent, you will not hear the answer when you call. I was trying to call the Liralen, last night when Coren came.”
“Liralen...” The old woman’s face softened until it seemed dreaming and young beneath her curls. “The pennant-winged, moon-colored Liralen... Oh, child, when you capture it finally, let me see it.”
“I will. But it is very hard to find, especially when people interrupt me with babies. My father fed me goat’s milk, but Tam does not seem to like it.”
The old woman sighed. “I wish I could feed him, but a cow would be more useful, unless I find some mountain woman to nurse him.”
“He is mine,” Sybel said. “I do not want some other woman to begin to love him.”
“Of course, child, but— Will you let me love him, just a little? It has been so long since I have had children to love. I will steal a cow from someone, leave a jewel in its place.”
“I can call a cow.”
“No, child, if anyone is a thief it must be me. You must think of yourself, of what would happen if people suspected you of calling away their animals.”
“I am not afraid of people. They are fools.”
“Oh, child; but they can be so powerful in their loving and hating. Did your father, when he talked to you, give you a name?”
“I am Sybel. But you did not have to ask me that.”
The gray eyes curved faintly. “Oh, yes, my birds are everywhere... But there is a difference in a name spoken of, and a name given at last by the bearer. You know that. My name is Maelga. And the child’s name? Will you give me that as a gift?”
Sybel smiled. “Yes. I would like you to have his name. It is Tamlorn.” She looked down at him, her ivory hair tickling the small, plump face. “Tamlorn. My Tam,” she whispered, and Tamlorn laughed.
So Maelga stole a cow and left a jeweled ring in its place, and for months afterward people left their barn doors open hopefully. Tam grew strong, pale-haired and gray-eyed, and he laughed and shouted through the still white halls, and teased the patient animals and fed them. Years passed, and he became lean and brown, and explored the Mountain with shepherd boys, climbing through the mists, searching deep caves, bringing home red foxes, birds and strange herbs for Maelga. Sybel continued her long search for the Liralen, calling nights, disappearing for days at a time and returning with old, jeweled books with iron locks that might hold its name. Maelga chided her for stealing, and she would reply absently,
“From little wizardlings, who do not know how to use