Free Michelle West - Sun Sword 01 - The Broken Crown by sun sword Page A

wear them, because the heart—our hearts—so seldom find a
home, and when they do, we cannot remain there."
    "But this is—this is—" Ashaf fell silent, realizing two
things. For the first, she bowed low. "You have honored me," she said
softly.
    Yollana's face was in shadow as she bent to retrieve the lamp.
Ashaf slid the chain over her head with shaking hands, letting the
stone fall to rest against her skin. What should have been cold was
warm; what should have been hard was smooth and almost soft.
    Honored? Yes. But she knew, as the Voyani woman attached the
lamp to the pole she carried, that Yollana did not expect to see her
again. Did not expect that anyone would. The Voyani did not surrender
the secrets of their hearts to anyone.
    What had Evayne of Nolan said?
    Your story ends here, in this village; there will be
no
    one to tell it, to carry it on, to bring it to light.
* * *
    The next day, at dawn, Ashaf kep'Valente rose and walked to
the graves in which lay the remnants of the second life that Yollana of
the Havalla Voyani had spoken of. She knew now when it ended—had almost
known it then, so bleak was the day, and the year, and the year that
followed. The last of her children. Her son.
    You were to find your joys
, she thought,
as her hand smoothed out drying strands of once green grass. But her
joy, such as it was, was here, if she could let go of the memory that
ended it.
    And sometimes she could; sometimes she could see his youth—all
of their youths—and his innocence, although she expected that the
latter was the kindness of aged memory.
    As if this were her last day here, she knelt before the grave,
these graves—but she could not sit for long; the tears came, and it was
not tears that she wished to capture.
    Valla kep'Valente was waiting for her this second morning.
Valla, with her delicate chin, her raven's hair, her intemperate words.
She was like a child, and unlike; she spoke her mind as it pleased her,
and often with great surprise at the results.
    The pinks were fading from the sky, and the men had been fed;
it was time to tend the fruit of the fields. They walked together, and
to Ashaf it seemed that everything— the colors of the valley fields,
the smell of the cut stalks and turned earth, the movement of birds and
men, the sound of the river—was heightened. Almost new. She looked from
side to side, as if a wonder long dead had found new life.
    "Ashaf? Ashaf, have you heard a thing I've said?"
    "It's—it's a lovely day," Ashaf said, blushing.
    "Which means no." Valla's face was caught a moment between a
smile and a frown; the smile won. "It is a beautiful day."
    "Is that Riva?"
    "Yes. And that monstrous son of hers."
    "He's not monstrous," Ashaf said softly. "Or he will not
always be. He is reckless. When your own are that age, you will
understand it better."
    "My own," Valla said, with the arrogance of loving ignorance,
"will not survive if they choose to become like Eric. It's Riva's own
fault." She shrugged. "Give the child no
child's name, and what happens? He knows no mother's calm."
    It was common wisdom. "Na'Eri," she said quietly, turning the
words around in her mouth. "Be kind."
    Valla's brow lifted a moment. "You weren't so forgiving when
he broke your door."
    "True enough," the older woman said. "But the door was fixed."
    "I worry about you, Ashaf. You've been sleeping well?"
    "No," Ashaf replied cheerfully. "Very poorly. Come; the
shadows are lengthening and the overseer will take our names."
    He didn't, of course; and she knew he wouldn't. Although he
was a clansman in theory, he had spent his life here, in this village,
among the serafs. He had played with them, bullied them, and been
bullied by them; he had lain with them, and broken their hearts, and
had his heart broken. He had wed here, under the Lady's Moon, with the
permission of the Tor'agar—the same man who had given Ashaf a husband
and her freedom.
    The freedom of a seraf.
    He was also a good ten years younger than