Roberson, Jennifer - Cheysuli 08 by A Tapestry of Lions (v1.0) Page B

a raw
desperation. "Aidan says, “Not yet.' "
                His granddame was not nearly so
self-controlled.
                "Didn't ye tell him,
then?"
                "I did. In the strongest terms
possible. 'Send for your son,' I said, 'Kellin needs his father.' "
                "And?"
                "And he says, 'Not yet."
"
                Urchin's breath hissed. Kellin waved
him into silence.
                "Gods," Aileen breathed.
"Has he gone mad, as they say?"
                "I—want to think not. I want to
disbelieve the rumors. I want very much to believe there is a reason for what
he does."
                "To keep himself isolate—"
                "He is a shar tahl, Aileen.
They are unlike other Cheysuli—"
                Her tone was rough, as if she
suppressed tears.
                "There's Erinnish in him, too,
my braw boyo—or are you forgetting that?"
                "No." The Mujhar sighed.
"He shapes others, Aidan says, to understand the old ways must be altered
by the new."
                "But to deny his own son a
father—"
                "He will send for Kellin, he
says, when the time is right."
                For a long moment there was silence.
Then the Queen of Homana muttered an oath more appropriate to a soldier.
"And when will it be right? When his son is a grown man, seated upon the
Lion Throne Aidan himself should hold?"
                The Mujhar answered merely, with
great weariness, "I do not know."
                Tension filled the silence. Then
Kellin heard a long, breathy sigh cut off awkwardly.
                "Aileen, no—"
                "Why not?" The voice was
thick, but fierce. "He is my son, Brennan—I'm permitted, I'm thinking, to
cry if I wish to cry."
                "Aileen—"
                "I miss him," she said.
"Gods, but I miss him! So many years—"
                "Shansu, meijhana—"
                "There is no peace!" she
cried. "I bore him in my body. You're not knowing what it is."
                "I am bonded in my own
way—"
                "With a cat1." she said.
" 'Tisn't the same, Brennan. And even if it were, you have Sleeta here. I have
nothing. Nothing but memories of the child I bore, and the boy I raised. ..
." Her voice thickened again. " 'Tisn't fair to any of us. Not to
you, to me; and certainly not to Kellin." Her voice paused. "Is there
no way to make him come? To compel him?"
                "No," Brennan said.
"He is more than our son, more than a jehan. He is also a shar tahl. I
will not compel a man blessed by gods to serve a mortal desire. Not for me, nor
for you—"
                "For his son?"
                "No. I will not
interfere."
                Taut silence, as Kellin spun tightly
away. Urchin hesitated only a moment, then hastened to catch up.
"Kellin—"
                "You heard." It took
effort not to shout. "You heard what he said. About my father—" It
filled his throat, swelling tightly, until he wanted to choke, or scream, or
cry. "He doesn't want me."
                "That's not what the Mujhar
said. He said your father would send when the time was right."
                Kellin strode on stiffly. "The
time will never be right!"
                "But you don't know th—"
                "I do." Venomously.
"He renounced the throne, and renounced me. He renounced everything"
                "But he's a priest. Don't
priests do those things?"
                "Not shar tahls. Not most of
them. They have sons, and they love them." Kellin's tone thinned, then
wavered. He clamped down on self-possession with every bit of strength he had.
"Someday I will see him, whether he wants me or no, and I will tell him