Ironcrown Moon by Julian May Read Free Book Online
Authors: Julian May
great door that led to the Alchymical Library, engaged in earnest conversation. He vaguely recognized them as visiting scholars, associates of Prior Waringlow, who had come down from Zeth Abbey several months earlier to do research on some historical project or other.
“Why are you tarrying inside the palace on such a beautiful night?” he asked them, unfastening a large iron key from the ring he wore on his belt. To reach his own rooms, he had to pass through the library.
The Brothers bowed in respectful unison. One of them said, “We had hoped to do some studying, Lord Stergos, but found the library locked. Perhaps you’ll admit us—”
“Nonsense! Go listen to the music and have a cup of wine. Your work can wait.”
“Certainly, my lord.”
Stergos watched them go, trying to recall their names. But thoughts of what he must say and must not say in the upcoming wind-conversation with Vra-Mattis, the novice Brother assigned to Snudge, distracted him, and he gave up the effort as he fitted the key into its massive lock.
two
Drumming. Drumming. Drumming.
Dom dom t’pat-a-pat pom… dom
.
The sound coming from the little hut beyond the byre was soft but still audible in every room of the arctic steading’s main house, repeating the same simple percussive figure, continuing hour after hour for nearly two days, longer than ever before. Sometimes the beat would falter, the timing spoiled because of inattention or the fatigue of the drummer’s aged wrists and fingers; but after a painful pause the rhythmic sound always began again.
Dobnelu the sea-hag was having a particularly difficult time crossing the barrier this time. She could not recall how many false starts she’d made. Even a single mistake in the three thousand measured patterns of drumming meant going back to the beginning, but it was unthinkable that she abandon the effort. Not even her dire premonition about the woman and the boy who were her special charges must tempt her to give up. Red Ansel Pikan and Thalassa Dru were waiting beneath the ice. Needing her.
And so was the One Denied the Sky.
Dobnelu could only join them in the starless world by means of the drum-trance, a ritual not especially difficult for Tarnian shamans in the prime of life, but an excruciating ordeal for a woman whose years numbered over fourscore and ten.
Dom dom t’pat-a-pat pom… dom.
Eyes shut tightly against the brightness of Midsummer Eve, resolutely gripping the bone Page 18
drumsticks in her gnarled hands, Dobnelu the sea-hag forced herself to go on.
==========
The maidservant Rusgann and the boy were somehow able to sleep through the maddening sound of the drumming, but Maudrayne
Northkeep always remained conscious of it, even when she slipped into and out of a troubled half doze. In disjointed prayers, she begged for an end to the infernal noise.
file:///K|/eMule/Incoming/May,%20Julian%20-%20[Bor...0-%20Boreal%20Moon%202%20
-%20Ironcrown%20Moon.html (19 of 228)2-2-2007 18:46:18
May, Julian - Boreal Moon 2 - Ironcrown Moon
At last, as always, the end did come. The drumbeats ceased abruptly after a single climactic DOM
. There was a sudden silence, broken only by the bleating of a goat in the meadow. The hag had succeeded in opening the door to that other place again. She’d entered and so left her prisoners free of her supervision for at least a day, perhaps even two.
Maudrayne pushed aside the opaque curtain of her cupboard-bed and descended on the stepstool, naked except for the ornate golden necklace with the three great opals that she never took off, her uncle Sernin’s precious wedding gift that she had worn on the night she cast herself into the sea. The air in the shuttered little room was fresh and pleasantly cool, thanks to the sod roof of Dobnelu’s sturdily built home. Outside, under the endless midsummer daylight, it was probably rather warm. Perfect for what she had planned.
After putting on her clothes, she tiptoed to the partly open
“Why are you tarrying inside the palace on such a beautiful night?” he asked them, unfastening a large iron key from the ring he wore on his belt. To reach his own rooms, he had to pass through the library.
The Brothers bowed in respectful unison. One of them said, “We had hoped to do some studying, Lord Stergos, but found the library locked. Perhaps you’ll admit us—”
“Nonsense! Go listen to the music and have a cup of wine. Your work can wait.”
“Certainly, my lord.”
Stergos watched them go, trying to recall their names. But thoughts of what he must say and must not say in the upcoming wind-conversation with Vra-Mattis, the novice Brother assigned to Snudge, distracted him, and he gave up the effort as he fitted the key into its massive lock.
two
Drumming. Drumming. Drumming.
Dom dom t’pat-a-pat pom… dom
.
The sound coming from the little hut beyond the byre was soft but still audible in every room of the arctic steading’s main house, repeating the same simple percussive figure, continuing hour after hour for nearly two days, longer than ever before. Sometimes the beat would falter, the timing spoiled because of inattention or the fatigue of the drummer’s aged wrists and fingers; but after a painful pause the rhythmic sound always began again.
Dobnelu the sea-hag was having a particularly difficult time crossing the barrier this time. She could not recall how many false starts she’d made. Even a single mistake in the three thousand measured patterns of drumming meant going back to the beginning, but it was unthinkable that she abandon the effort. Not even her dire premonition about the woman and the boy who were her special charges must tempt her to give up. Red Ansel Pikan and Thalassa Dru were waiting beneath the ice. Needing her.
And so was the One Denied the Sky.
Dobnelu could only join them in the starless world by means of the drum-trance, a ritual not especially difficult for Tarnian shamans in the prime of life, but an excruciating ordeal for a woman whose years numbered over fourscore and ten.
Dom dom t’pat-a-pat pom… dom.
Eyes shut tightly against the brightness of Midsummer Eve, resolutely gripping the bone Page 18
drumsticks in her gnarled hands, Dobnelu the sea-hag forced herself to go on.
==========
The maidservant Rusgann and the boy were somehow able to sleep through the maddening sound of the drumming, but Maudrayne
Northkeep always remained conscious of it, even when she slipped into and out of a troubled half doze. In disjointed prayers, she begged for an end to the infernal noise.
file:///K|/eMule/Incoming/May,%20Julian%20-%20[Bor...0-%20Boreal%20Moon%202%20
-%20Ironcrown%20Moon.html (19 of 228)2-2-2007 18:46:18
May, Julian - Boreal Moon 2 - Ironcrown Moon
At last, as always, the end did come. The drumbeats ceased abruptly after a single climactic DOM
. There was a sudden silence, broken only by the bleating of a goat in the meadow. The hag had succeeded in opening the door to that other place again. She’d entered and so left her prisoners free of her supervision for at least a day, perhaps even two.
Maudrayne pushed aside the opaque curtain of her cupboard-bed and descended on the stepstool, naked except for the ornate golden necklace with the three great opals that she never took off, her uncle Sernin’s precious wedding gift that she had worn on the night she cast herself into the sea. The air in the shuttered little room was fresh and pleasantly cool, thanks to the sod roof of Dobnelu’s sturdily built home. Outside, under the endless midsummer daylight, it was probably rather warm. Perfect for what she had planned.
After putting on her clothes, she tiptoed to the partly open
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