Death and the Lady by Judith Tarr Read Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Judith Tarr
were not. “No,
Francha. It’s a trap.”
Francha set her chin and leaned, putting all her weight into
it. It was as loud as a shout. Come!
“Go,” I said. “How will you know it’s a trap till you’ve
tried it? Go!”
Lys glared at me. “How can humans know—”
I said a word that shocked her into silence. While she
wavered I pushed, and Francha pulled. Dragging her toward the thing she wanted
most in the world.
Later it would hurt. Now I only wanted her gone. Before I
gave in. Before I let her stay.
She was walking by herself now, if slowly. The trees were
close. I could smell the mist, dank and cold, like the breath of the dead.
“No!” cried Lys, flinging up her hand.
Light flew from it. The mist withered and fled. The trees
towered higher than any mortal trees, great pillars upholding a roof of gold.
The light shrank. The trees were trees again, but their
leaves were golden still, pale in the evening. There was a path among them,
glimmering faintly as it wound into the gloom. It would not be there long, I
knew in my bones. I braced myself to drag her down it. What would happen if it
closed while I was on it, I refused to think.
She set foot on it of her own will. Walked a step, two,
three.
Turned.
Held out her hand. She was going. I had won that much. Now
she offered me what I had made her take. The bright country. The people who
knew no age nor sickness nor death. Escape. Freedom.
From what? I asked her inside myself. I would grow old no
matter where I was.
“Let Francha have it,” I said. “Maybe you can heal her;
maybe she’ll find a voice again. Maybe she’ll learn to sing.”
Lys did not lower her hand. She knew, damn her. How easily,
how happily, I could take it.
My fists knotted in my skirt. “I was born on this earth. I
will die on it.”
Francha let go Lys’ hand. She ran to me, hugged me tight.
But not to hold. Not to stay. Her choice was made. Had been made at harvest
time, on another edge of this Wood.
Lys looked as if she would speak. I willed her not to. She
heard me, maybe; or she simply understood, as humans did, from the look on my
face. She said nothing. Only looked, long and long.
The path was fading fast. She turned suddenly, swept Francha
up, began to run. Down into the glimmering dark; down to a light that I could
almost see. There were people there. Pale princes, pale queens. Pale king who
was not cold at all. Almost—almost—I could see his grey eyes; how they smiled,
not only at the prodigal come home, but at me, mere mortal flesh, alone beside
a broken shrine.
I laughed painfully. She had my wedding cloak. What Claudel
would say when he came back—
If he came back.
When, said a
whisper in the Wood. A gift. A promise.
I turned my back on the shadow and the trees, and turned my
face toward home: warmth and light, and my children’s voices, and Mamère
Mondine asleep by the fire. Above me as I walked, like a guard and a guide,
rose a lone white star.
www.bookviewcafe.com
Copyright & Credits
Death and the Lady
A Story from the World of The Hound and the Falcon
Judith Tarr
Book View Café Edition July 30, 2013
ISBN: 978-1-61138-285-3
Copyright © 1992 Judith Tarr
First published: After
the King: Stories in Honor of J.R.R. Tolkien, ed. Martin H. Greenberg. (Tor, 1992)
Cover design by Leah R. Cutter
v20130627vnm
www.bookviewcafe.com
About the Author
Judith Tarr holds a PhD in Medieval Studies from Yale. She is the author of over three dozen novels and many works of short fiction. She has been nominated for the World Fantasy Award, and has won the Crawford Award for The Isle of Glass and its sequels. She lives near Tucson, Arizona, where she raises and trains Lipizzan horses.
About Book View Café
Book View Café is a professional authors’ publishing cooperative offering DRM-free
ebooks in multiple formats to readers around the world. With
authors in a variety of genres including mystery, romance, fantasy, and
science fiction, Book View Café
Francha. It’s a trap.”
Francha set her chin and leaned, putting all her weight into
it. It was as loud as a shout. Come!
“Go,” I said. “How will you know it’s a trap till you’ve
tried it? Go!”
Lys glared at me. “How can humans know—”
I said a word that shocked her into silence. While she
wavered I pushed, and Francha pulled. Dragging her toward the thing she wanted
most in the world.
Later it would hurt. Now I only wanted her gone. Before I
gave in. Before I let her stay.
She was walking by herself now, if slowly. The trees were
close. I could smell the mist, dank and cold, like the breath of the dead.
“No!” cried Lys, flinging up her hand.
Light flew from it. The mist withered and fled. The trees
towered higher than any mortal trees, great pillars upholding a roof of gold.
The light shrank. The trees were trees again, but their
leaves were golden still, pale in the evening. There was a path among them,
glimmering faintly as it wound into the gloom. It would not be there long, I
knew in my bones. I braced myself to drag her down it. What would happen if it
closed while I was on it, I refused to think.
She set foot on it of her own will. Walked a step, two,
three.
Turned.
Held out her hand. She was going. I had won that much. Now
she offered me what I had made her take. The bright country. The people who
knew no age nor sickness nor death. Escape. Freedom.
From what? I asked her inside myself. I would grow old no
matter where I was.
“Let Francha have it,” I said. “Maybe you can heal her;
maybe she’ll find a voice again. Maybe she’ll learn to sing.”
Lys did not lower her hand. She knew, damn her. How easily,
how happily, I could take it.
My fists knotted in my skirt. “I was born on this earth. I
will die on it.”
Francha let go Lys’ hand. She ran to me, hugged me tight.
But not to hold. Not to stay. Her choice was made. Had been made at harvest
time, on another edge of this Wood.
Lys looked as if she would speak. I willed her not to. She
heard me, maybe; or she simply understood, as humans did, from the look on my
face. She said nothing. Only looked, long and long.
The path was fading fast. She turned suddenly, swept Francha
up, began to run. Down into the glimmering dark; down to a light that I could
almost see. There were people there. Pale princes, pale queens. Pale king who
was not cold at all. Almost—almost—I could see his grey eyes; how they smiled,
not only at the prodigal come home, but at me, mere mortal flesh, alone beside
a broken shrine.
I laughed painfully. She had my wedding cloak. What Claudel
would say when he came back—
If he came back.
When, said a
whisper in the Wood. A gift. A promise.
I turned my back on the shadow and the trees, and turned my
face toward home: warmth and light, and my children’s voices, and Mamère
Mondine asleep by the fire. Above me as I walked, like a guard and a guide,
rose a lone white star.
www.bookviewcafe.com
Copyright & Credits
Death and the Lady
A Story from the World of The Hound and the Falcon
Judith Tarr
Book View Café Edition July 30, 2013
ISBN: 978-1-61138-285-3
Copyright © 1992 Judith Tarr
First published: After
the King: Stories in Honor of J.R.R. Tolkien, ed. Martin H. Greenberg. (Tor, 1992)
Cover design by Leah R. Cutter
v20130627vnm
www.bookviewcafe.com
About the Author
Judith Tarr holds a PhD in Medieval Studies from Yale. She is the author of over three dozen novels and many works of short fiction. She has been nominated for the World Fantasy Award, and has won the Crawford Award for The Isle of Glass and its sequels. She lives near Tucson, Arizona, where she raises and trains Lipizzan horses.
About Book View Café
Book View Café is a professional authors’ publishing cooperative offering DRM-free
ebooks in multiple formats to readers around the world. With
authors in a variety of genres including mystery, romance, fantasy, and
science fiction, Book View Café
Similar Books
Collision of The Heart
Laurie Alice Eakes
Who Owns Kelly Paddik
Beth Goobie
Monochrome
H.M. Jones
No Daughter of the South
Cynthia Webb
House of Steel
Raen Smith
With Baited Breath
Lorraine Bartlett
Redaction: Extinction Level Event (Part I)
Linda Andrews
Out of Place: A Memoir
Edward W. Said
How Cassie Got Her Grind Back
Heather Rainier
Run to Me
Christy Reece