Read Online The Sable Moon by Nancy Springer - Free Book Online Page B

by the faraway western sea. Green-clad Lysse had watched them from her window as she gave her baby his first milk.
    â€œI have forgotten nothing,” Hal told her sharply.
    â€œSo he is fated to travel ways far and solitary and strange to us,” she said, ignoring the tone. “He will leave the motherhood of earth, at least for a while; sea and sky will claim him. But I hope not yet. He dreams because he is young, and he shrinks from the grief that drapes his life these days. Alan is of no help to him. He is so fogged with bitterness that he scarcely sees beyond his own pain.”
    â€œI cannot help him,” Hal whispered.
    â€œI know it.” Lysse spoke with mindful understanding.
    â€œBut the lad,” Hal continued. “He flees from more than sorrow, I think.”
    â€œYou think he flees? From Gwern?”
    â€œAh, the wyrd,” Hal murmured. “There is a portent for you, of great weight. I tell you, Trevyn will be more important than any of us, more than King, more than Very King. Of all the Kings of Isle and Welas, I know of none that have had a wyrd.”
    â€œWhy, what is a wyrd?” Lysse asked curiously.
    â€œMore than comrade, more than brother or blood brother, more than second self. Alan was all of those to me.…” Hal floundered. “How I wish I knew. I can only sense dimly that the wyrd is one who will be sacrificed when the time comes.” Hal closed his eyes. “Suffering and sacrifice—they are required of any true king. How much more, then, of Trevyn.… He will blunder into the teeth of suffering soon.”
    â€œI believe he has already begun. But I don’t understand.” Lysse creased her fair brow. “Who will sacrifice Gwern? And why?”
    â€œAene. Or the goddess. For greatness.” He stirred slightly, faced her again. “There are marvels to come, a quickening, new magic, or old magic made new.… There are things I could never do, and they will be done. That mystic sword I found will be thrown in the sea at last; I have seen that. An elfin King must hurl it away, to end the long shadow of Lyrdion on our land. I was never able to do it; ’twas all I could do to touch that weapon once, then walk away.”
    Lysse leaned forward with as much excitement as he had ever known her to show. “What else?”
    â€œSomething about unicorns, and the shape where two circles meet, the spindle shape. And the seeress … Trevyn mounted on a cat-eyed steed. Virgins and dragons … Do you think it might be a girl he’s running from?”
    â€œIt has occurred to me,” Lysse snapped. “What was Trevyn doing on such a peculiar horse?”
    â€œBringing the legends back to Isle, from Elwestrand. To travel to Elwestrand and return—I could never do that. It has never been done. But he shall do it. Trevyn shall, the young fool. I have seen.”
    â€œMother of mercy,” she murmured, stunned. “You haven’t told him!”
    â€œI am not a half-wit,” he retorted frostily. “What is the good of a prophecy told? He must work it out himself, or make a hash of it, as the case may be. I’ve written it down among my things, for some scholar to grub up years hence. Then Trevyn shall have his glory, if glory is due.”
    â€œMother of mercy,” she said again. “Unicorns stand for wholeness.… What are the two circles that meet?”
    â€œGold and silver, sun and moon …” Hal’s voice faded dreamily away. He was tired, and spoke no more, then or in the weeks that followed. He lay in deep stillness. Alan stopped trying to talk him out of his strange trance, though he was full of anger that had no vent. Sometimes he climbed the tower stairs to Hal’s door and looked silently in for a while, then turned and went away. He would not sit by his brother’s side.
    Hal faded into brightness. Though he did not eat or move, his body remained