Highstone, friends, neighbors, and honored guests, welcome to this joyous celebration of Evennight. From now to Midwinter, each night grows longer.”
The setting sun touched the Ebons as he spoke, andall paused to give honor to the west. Eliani did not look at the sun for fear of hurting her eyes but fixed her gaze on the mountains a little to the side. As the sun dipped below the horizon, golden rays streamed upward around the mountain peaks.
Felisan's voice broke the silence. “May we rejoice in the bounty of our harvest, may we welcome the repose of the coming winter, and may we all keep the creed in our hearts and in our deeds. Blessings to you all. Let the celebration begin!”
Music sailed forth, bright and lively. The throng in the public circle resolved itself into rings, one within the other, for the dance of greeting that opened every feast day celebration. Luruthin led Eliani into the dance.
“Thank you for wearing my gift.”
“I thought it would go well with Heléri's handiwork.”
“It does indeed.”
Beryloni and Gemaron were beside them and clasped hands for the turns; Eliani and Luruthin merely crossed wrists. Most found touching hands too intense, for the palm was the strongest locus of khi. In some places, such as the high court in Eastfæld, Eliani had heard that dancers did not touch at all but held their wrists a handspan apart in the air. She thought it would be difficult to dance so, without the aid of a partner to balance.
As they made the final turn of the dance, Luruthin's wrist slid against hers and his fingers brushed her palm, leaving it tingling. She looked at him, and his smile told her it had been deliberate. She smiled back, but only slightly. She had fond memories of their time together, but there had been pain in the meantime, and she was not ready to try again.
The rings shifted and brought them to face new partners. The revolution of the dance began anew. Twilight glowed blue now, above the mountain peaks, and the first stars were beginning to shine.
A flash of pale hair caught her eye. Turisan was dancing past in the outermost ring. He moved like a catamount, smooth as silk yet with strength beneath the surface.
“—beautiful this evening, my lady.”
Eliani looked back at her partner with a hasty smile. “Thank you, Firthan. You look very well yourself.”
“You are too fine to be warden of the Guard.”
“Say that again at the next sword practice.”
He smiled. He was kin to her, and also a friend from the Guard. She liked him but feared that he liked her too well. She felt a sudden wish to shed her lovely new gown and return to her leathers. She was more at home in them, and safer in the saddle than in this dance.
Turisan was breaking fast the morning after Even-night, recalling the previous evening's festivities, when a knock on the door disturbed his reflections. He took a sip of tea spiced with sunfruit and clove to clear his throat.
“Come.”
The door opened, and a Stonereach—the theyn who had been named Eliani's nextkin—looked in. “Good morrow, Lord Turisan. Forgive the intrusion.”
“Theyn Gharinan, yes? Will you join me?”
The Stonereach entered and closed the door. “Thank you, but I have already broken fast.”
“Have some tea, then. It is excellently spiced.”
“That I will accept. By its scent, that is Heléri's special festival blend.”
“Lady Heléri makes teas?”
“She is an herbalist of high repute. Her teas are prized as far away as Eastfæld, where she could name any price if she chose to trade them. She does not, though. She prefers to make small quantities of high quality and for the most part shares them only with her kin.”
Turisan glanced at the cup in his hand. “I am honored.”
“As well you should be.”
Turisan raised an eyebrow. Gharinan grinned and sipped his tea.
“I called to invite you to join us riding out today, if you are so inclined.”
“I was hoping to see more of Alpinon. Thank you, I
The setting sun touched the Ebons as he spoke, andall paused to give honor to the west. Eliani did not look at the sun for fear of hurting her eyes but fixed her gaze on the mountains a little to the side. As the sun dipped below the horizon, golden rays streamed upward around the mountain peaks.
Felisan's voice broke the silence. “May we rejoice in the bounty of our harvest, may we welcome the repose of the coming winter, and may we all keep the creed in our hearts and in our deeds. Blessings to you all. Let the celebration begin!”
Music sailed forth, bright and lively. The throng in the public circle resolved itself into rings, one within the other, for the dance of greeting that opened every feast day celebration. Luruthin led Eliani into the dance.
“Thank you for wearing my gift.”
“I thought it would go well with Heléri's handiwork.”
“It does indeed.”
Beryloni and Gemaron were beside them and clasped hands for the turns; Eliani and Luruthin merely crossed wrists. Most found touching hands too intense, for the palm was the strongest locus of khi. In some places, such as the high court in Eastfæld, Eliani had heard that dancers did not touch at all but held their wrists a handspan apart in the air. She thought it would be difficult to dance so, without the aid of a partner to balance.
As they made the final turn of the dance, Luruthin's wrist slid against hers and his fingers brushed her palm, leaving it tingling. She looked at him, and his smile told her it had been deliberate. She smiled back, but only slightly. She had fond memories of their time together, but there had been pain in the meantime, and she was not ready to try again.
The rings shifted and brought them to face new partners. The revolution of the dance began anew. Twilight glowed blue now, above the mountain peaks, and the first stars were beginning to shine.
A flash of pale hair caught her eye. Turisan was dancing past in the outermost ring. He moved like a catamount, smooth as silk yet with strength beneath the surface.
“—beautiful this evening, my lady.”
Eliani looked back at her partner with a hasty smile. “Thank you, Firthan. You look very well yourself.”
“You are too fine to be warden of the Guard.”
“Say that again at the next sword practice.”
He smiled. He was kin to her, and also a friend from the Guard. She liked him but feared that he liked her too well. She felt a sudden wish to shed her lovely new gown and return to her leathers. She was more at home in them, and safer in the saddle than in this dance.
Turisan was breaking fast the morning after Even-night, recalling the previous evening's festivities, when a knock on the door disturbed his reflections. He took a sip of tea spiced with sunfruit and clove to clear his throat.
“Come.”
The door opened, and a Stonereach—the theyn who had been named Eliani's nextkin—looked in. “Good morrow, Lord Turisan. Forgive the intrusion.”
“Theyn Gharinan, yes? Will you join me?”
The Stonereach entered and closed the door. “Thank you, but I have already broken fast.”
“Have some tea, then. It is excellently spiced.”
“That I will accept. By its scent, that is Heléri's special festival blend.”
“Lady Heléri makes teas?”
“She is an herbalist of high repute. Her teas are prized as far away as Eastfæld, where she could name any price if she chose to trade them. She does not, though. She prefers to make small quantities of high quality and for the most part shares them only with her kin.”
Turisan glanced at the cup in his hand. “I am honored.”
“As well you should be.”
Turisan raised an eyebrow. Gharinan grinned and sipped his tea.
“I called to invite you to join us riding out today, if you are so inclined.”
“I was hoping to see more of Alpinon. Thank you, I
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