Chapter Two: The Last Bard

I didn't leave the house very often in the following weeks, so it must have been at least a week or two before I heard of Kaylins father. He too, had died, at home in his bed; he had made it back to the villa at least.
When I found Kaylin, sitting with her hands crossed in her lap by a fountain, staring distractedly at her palm, she was wearing black like my mother and I knew upon seeing her that her father had finally passed. Her hair was combed (a sign of evil if ever there was one) and she wore slippers on her feet. I knew her mother had been trying for an age to implement these changes but Kaylin had always managed to loose those slippers and to ruffle her hair before. She seemed a dark visage as proper and sad that she was now. Sitting uncertainly beside her, I looked down at my feet.
"I'm sorry about . . . your family." She whispered, her voice quiet against the backdrop of the soft trickling water behind us.
"Me too. I'm sorry about your father."
"So am I."
With the formal condolences taken care of, I did not know quite what it was I was supposed to say. I have told you that I wanted to be a bard; I was never at such a loss of words before.
"I wish I knew what they had died for." It was she that spoke into my silence, her voice catching me off guard and bringing me out of my dream world (where I saw my brother on that stretcher, dieing, over and over again.) her words seemed alien like to me, as strange to my ears as her clothes and well kept hair were to my eyes.
"I don't understand." It was the truth, I didn't.
"I mean . . . they rode off to protect us, but who will bring back the bread with my father gone? Who will keep my family safe, fed, and healthy without him? How is his death saving us? You can't end war with fighting!" she was always like this, passionate even at the age of nine, though I always felt she was more my age, at least in spirit and mind. As she spoke she had begun to twist her skirts in her hands anxiously.
"Tantris said he would personally take care of the families at a disadvantage."
"Did he?" the fight seemed to go right out of her and she slumped back against the wall. It was as though she had been hanging on to the question of what the future would hold for her and her family, had been clutching it in her frail grasp and now that this question was answered she had nothing left to keep her head above water. She began to cry.
Kaylin was one of those girls that wanted to be just as good as any boy, who wanted to be the hero in the game where you rescue a damsel from a dragon. Everyone else wanted her to be the damsel. However, she would hear none of it. She would take up the wooden sword and march into the castle with more of a commanding presence than any boy marches. It was usually Bryant, her brother that played the damsel, because if he did not, she would beat him later. I used to laugh at her, and at him, but seeing her cry felt so strange and foreboding to me that I suddenly realized that I was the older, and the boy for that matter, it was my job to protect her.
I put an arm around her and held her while she sobbed, I had this feeling in my gut that she hadn't cried like this before, and that for some reason she had allowed me and no one else to be privy to her weakness. I felt honored, and terribly responsible. When she was finished, and she had sufficiently gathered herself and whipped her eyes, she turned to me and smiled feebly.
"Everything will turn out all right Taryn. In the end, we will be better for this. We will grow and learn and be different people in the end for our troubles." She said it with such determination that I believed her without a doubt, we would, we would be ok.

It was three years later that I was expected to begin training for the army.
More and more Lord Castius was beginning to turn his duties and responsibilities to his son, Tantris. The young lord was good at taking responsibilities and he did what he could for his people, making sure all the widows of the war were taken care of; there was no poverty in our villa, and we were happy. My mother never stopped wearing black, but she began to bake again, not as often, but enough to fill the house with the smells of fresh pies and cookies every once and awhile, and that was enough to keep me going on as though nothing had happened. Emlyn had long ago begun his training, intent as he was on becoming a warrior like Owain, he moved out the year I began mine, he was nineteen now, and he was living in the army barracks. That left me alone with my mother, and her nightmares.
I think that's what Emlyn was really moving to get away from, the screams that would wrack our house in the night, every time she called my fathers name, or one of my brothers, I would cringe. Sometimes she would even call for me, and I would go to her and smooth back her hair from her face and whisper to her until she was silent again, and then I would try to sleep, but I never could. If I woke her, she would weep for hours and then not speak to me in the morning.
I read Adriyel's book, the one he had left for me. Titled, "The Last Bard" It was a story about the greatest bard who had ever lived, his name had been Lan'Wetheryn. I read it repeatedly during those endless, sleepless nights when my mothers nightmares could not be soothed, in the story Lan'Wetheryn would travel from country to country and sometimes even over the seas. He would sing to the kings and they would provide lodgings and food and then Lan would move on. Until one day, he met a beautiful princess in a far away land and he loved her. Her hair was black as night and her skin as pale as the moon he often slept under, her lips as rosy red as her cheeks, her dress smooth silk that touched every curve of her body and left little for the imagination, her name was Eldehwen. And she loved him. His hair as pale as the moon light and curly on his head, his eyes blue as the ocean that he loved, and his harp lovelier than anything she had ever heard. Except for his voice. She could never be with him, because he was a peasants son, bard or not, but she told him one night that she would run away with him. However, they were over heard. The eavesdropper took the exchange to the king and he had Lan'Wetheryn arrested for treason and attempted kidnapping. They had him hanged. The greatest bard of the age and they hanged him. Eldehwen drowned herself in the ocean that she said was like his eyes.
That was the story and perhaps the legacy that my brother left to me. The gold binding of the book was worn when I received it, and I knew that it had been close to Adriyel's heart. One of the things I will never forget about the book was a passage where the author explains Lan'Wetheryns death, "They will worship you, love you, call you their brother at the dawn, but by the time the sun sinks below the horizon, you will be their enemy. For that is the way in which the human mind works, it takes great feats to gain their trust, but only one misstep to loose it." My brother had marked that with a star.
Therefore, when my training did begin, I was always wary. Always careful with what I said and did, always kind to those who were not kind to me, yet diligent in my studies as well. There was a growing fear in me now that I would be recruited into the army to fight, and that would be the end of my fantasies and dreams. I would die like all my generation, in the mud of a battlefield, with the flag of a King I had never met billowing over me. I did not want that. Contradictory, I had long ago decided that I still had to learn. Even a bard may have use for a sword. On the other hand, a sword use for a bard. Therefore, I learned her ways, her intricacies and powers. I became quite skilled, but I never took it beyond the practice ring, not even into the gladiatorial battles that were some times held for royal guests (which were becoming more frequent with Castius health declining)
Kaylin was growing up as I was, and I do not hesitate to say that I noticed. We were very close in those years, the age difference seemingly endless, but that didn't matter, I had seen her tears and tasted her sorrow, and she had seen mine. Her hair grew, and so did her height and stature. I did not notice it at first, I was growing right along with her, but one summer when we were wading through the Strembling brook, once up to our waists, now barely reaching our knees, I realized how old we were quickly becoming. Soon she would be considered a young lady, and then what would happen? Our weekly gallivants were becoming less frequent now, more monthly, at least in the summer, in the winter, they were even more scarce. What would happen when she married? It saddened me to think that she would be tending another man, taking care of him while I was alone. The knowledge that I even cared irked me.
I suppose though, that I should have been expecting it when my brother came home from a battle one day, visiting, to recruit me. I was seventeen, I had been studying song and rhyme, poetry and literature, but I had kept up the sword to make my brother happy, I had never expected him to come out and say the thing I knew he had been thinking for years. Or to take the actions he did.
The afternoon began with his arrival, I had not seen him in months and I did not shy away from the bear hug he engulfed me in.
"Brother!" he laughed and thumped me on the back, "let me look at you!" he held me by the shoulders an arms length away from him and looked me up and down, taking in my unruly black hair, thin face, brown eyes, lean frame and slender fingers better geared to a harp anything and he smiled nostalgically.
"You haven't changed a lick, you look just like Adriyel." The last he said quietly so that only I could hear and not my mother who stood behind me waiting for her turn to greet her son. I smiled and he clapped me on the shoulder once more before embracing mother.
She did not look the same as she had, her hair was as un-kept as mine, pushed into a wispy bun at the back of her head and turning grey all through. She was thinner than before, her once fleshy face sunken in with only her homely brown eyes there to remind you of the warmth that had once been so predominant. Today she wore her apron over her black dress, and on it were the usual batter stains and fruit juices. Some things never change.

She seemed so frail in Emlyns arms, three years of service in the army had made him strong and I would hardly have recognized him if he had not embraced me and called me brother. He wore the red tunic of the soldiers, with the crest of the house of Castius on the chest. His hair was neatly kept, brown and just nearly sweeping his shoulders. His face had grown hard in the elements but the softness in the eyes remained, even if the softness in his frame did not. When he had hugged me, I had felt near to snapping.
My mother took his hand and led him inside our house; it was only one story, with two bedrooms, a kitchen and a study. My mother and I had been moved from our spacious home shortly after Emlyn moved to the barracks. It had been deemed a waist of resources for the two of us to be living in a home meant for six. I had been reluctant to go, to leave my fathers smell, (he had built the house, a carpenter by trade, and had smelt of saw dust since I remembered.) Adriyel's books and Owains makeshift practice ring in the yard. It had taken getting used to, living just with mother.
Through the doorway we came into the kitchen and Emlyn plopped himself by the table, sprawled in a wooden chair my father had built and had been brought back to our new home, he was nearly asleep right then but my mother would not allow it.
"I made a pie just for you Emlyn, don't sleep yet!" he did not need a second warning, the prospect of one of mothers pies made him near sick with delight. When he had properly demolished the thing, leaving not a crumb on his plate, he and I went to my bedroom, where he would be bunking with me.
The kitchen was built so that it was almost the entire width of the house, large enough for entertaining, and eating and all the baking my mothers heart could desire. There was a hallway that branched off of it and on either side of that hall, a bedroom. Both rooms were the same size, and both looked into by a window, one to face the sunset and one the sunrise, but my room was better. I said that the kitchen was almost the width of the house, the reason it was not was the study, small and narrow, the only access to it being through my room. Therefore, it became mine.
Here I kept all of the books I had been able to save from Adriyel's collection, including the two, he had written, (and that I had never read) and the one he had left for me. Besides those, I had collected many on my own, including a first edition "Pario amin." Admittedly, I had never heard of the author before, but it had been inexpensive and it sounded important enough. Besides books, I kept here all my writing instruments and the one thing I took the most pride in, my harp.
I had bought it with the money I earned through minor carpentry and working odd jobs with the farmers. Nearly anything I could do that did not include fighting, I did it. It took me nearly two years but I'll never forget the feeling I got when I held it for the first time.
It was angular in shape, made of wood and decorated with glass and gilt, with twenty seven strings and a narrow, shallow sound box, it was the most elaborate I could afford and I had loved it since I set eyes on it. My brother had never seen it for I feared he would ridicule it and I could not bare that.
He had not been into my room since our move, and he did not know about my study when he came through my door, but once he had thrown down his army sack and taken a good look around, he noticed the door and smiled.

"What do you have in there Taryn?" I shrugged but he began to move towards it. Defiantly I placed myself between my brother and the door and, curses; he would not stop smiling as though I was playing a silly game with him!
"Emlyn, don't." I insisted but he feigned to my left and when I moved to intercept him, he went right around me on the other side.
"You need more training Taryn." He said flatly, as he opened the study door and strode inside. The room had a high window which allowed in light to see by, bookcases lined all the walls but one, where my desk, topped by dusty papers, books, and a quill pen, shimmered in the waning sunlight. As I entered behind my brother, I heard his sharp intake of breath. He had not thought me this serious I know.
Emlyn moved down the row of books, glancing at their titles and trying to hide his interest. When he came to my desk, he sifted through the papers nonchalantly and picked up the book that lay open on top of everything and closing it, read the title.
"The Last Bard', didn't Adriyel leave you this one?" there was little emotion in his voice except the question, but I felt my stomach knot painfully.
"Yes." I answered as I took it from his hands, flicking through it to find the page I had been reading last, and then setting it open again, where he had found it. Suddenly Emlyns attention seemed to be caught by the glint of sunlight on a piece of the glass decoration that had been embedded in the wood of my harp. He crossed the room to it and shook his head as he looked on it. I felt that knot twist again and I felt like I might be sick at the look of disgust Emlyns face clearly displayed.
"I had no idea. I had thought it was a passing fancy, just your way of grieving." Emlyns words were quiet and I hardly heard them over the pounding of blood in my face. I was aware that I was blushing and I hated myself for it but Emlyn continued, "He would not have wanted you to take it this far Taryn, you're only fooling yourself."
"He was our brother, and he wanted me to achieve my dreams Emlyn, you too, he wanted to encourage me in it I know, he said as much as he lay dieing." I should have stopped but I was angry at my brother and at myself, "though you wouldn't know, being the coward that you are, you did not even say goodbye!"
He stiffened, turned as he was away from me I could not see his face but I read the emotion in his quivering frame.
"A coward?" his voice was shaking too and I had the terrible thought that I had gone too far, that I had done something unforgivable. "I'm the one that fights for our people, the one who puts my life on the line for our family. A coward." His hands had clenched themselves at his sides and I thought twice before speaking into the silence. He whirled on me and I jumped visibly as his hands grasped my shoulders, I could feel the tears welling in my eyes as he shook me, hard.
"Why do you think I do these things? Put my life on the line?" I could not answer, all my energy focused on not letting those tears fall, I felt so ashamed! "Because I want to end it!" he shook me again. "Don't you see?" I did not, and I knew there was nothing he could do or say to make me understand his need for violence. Suddenly he seemed to realize he was hurting me and he let go, immediately taking a step back from me.
"I . . .I'm sorry." He stammered and all I could do was stare. His look of shame faded into confusion and then quickly back to anger and he kicked a pile of books, scattering them all over my floor, "Say something!" he yelled and before I could stop myself I answered.
"Shh, Emlyn, you'll upset mother." Emlyn stared down at his feet and sighed. I wish that I could have found words of apology or comfort in that moment, but I could not. All kinds of book passages and knowledge floated past my eyes and words I had read came back to me but they all sounded far too contrived, far too decorative to speak into my brothers silence and I could see now, pain. He shook his head and before leaving, placed a piece of parchment that he had drawn out of his tunic, on my desk. Then he left and I was alone in my study as I had much longed to be.
Crossing the small room, I picked up the parchment and turned it over in my hands. I saw now that it was folded and sealed with tallow and the insignia of the magistrate. My heart leaped into my throat and I could feel my chest constricting. I sucked in a hasty breath and began to tare viciously at the seal trying to open it. When it was open, I read the words at a hurried desperate rate. When I finished I felt my knees give away and my body sink to the ground even as I began to read again. I could not find it in my heart to believe them, they seemed a mockery to my dead brother, and to myself. However, I read them anyway, as clear and true as the inked words on the pages of any of my books.

Taryn Par'Oden
You are requested to begin training for an
elite fraction of the Kings Army. You will report to
Lord Tantris at the rise of the sun on the fifth morn of
April. All weaponry for your training will need to be
supplied by a sponsor or parent, when and if you are
deemed talented enough to fight, new weapons will
be appointed you. You will live in the training facility
barracks, meals will be provided. If you do not respond
to this summons, you will be deemed a deserter of your
people.

On a more personal note Taryn, I loved your brothers and father as my own
It is under Emlyns own suggestion that I ask you to be under my command. I
Look forward to training you.

Tantris