Free Fionavar 1 by The Summer Tree

the first tune saw Kimberly. Grey eyes met grey before the carven throne under the high windows of Delevan. "Ah!" cried the old woman then on a sharply taken breath. And in the softest thread of a whisper added, after a moment, "I have awaited you for so long now, my dear."
    And only Kim herself had seen the spasm of fear that had crossed Ysanne's face before she spoke those quiet words like a benediction.
    "How?" Kim managed to stammer. "What do you mean?"
    Ysanne smiled. "I am a Seer. The dreamer of the dream." And somehow, Kim knew what that meant, and there were sudden, bright tears in her eyes.
    "Come to me," the Seer whispered. "Loren will tell you how." She turned then, and curtsied low before the tall King of Brennin. "Fare kindly, Ailell," she said to him. "The other thing I have come to do is say goodbye. I shall not return, and we shall not meet again, you and I, on this side of the
    Night." She paused. "I have loved you. Carry that."
    "Ysanne-" the King cried.
    But she had turned. And leaning on her staff, she walked, alone this time, the length of the stunned, brilliant hall and out the double doors into the sunlight.
    That night, very late, Paul Schafer was summoned to play ta'bael with the High King of Brennin.
    The escort was a guard he didn't know and, walking behind him down shadowy corridors, Paul was inwardly grateful for the silent presence of Coll, who he knew was following them.
    It was a long walk but they saw few people still awake. A woman combing her hair in a doorway smiled at him, and a party of guards went by, sheathed swords clinking at their sides. Passing some bedrooms Paul heard murmurs of late-night talk, and once, a woman cried out softly on a taken breath-a sound very like a cry that he remembered.
    The two men with their hidden follower came at length to a pair of heavy doors. Schafer's face was expressionless as they were opened to his escort's tapping and he was ushered into a large, richly furnished room, at the center of which were two deep armchairs and a table set for ta'bael.
    "Welcome!" It was Gorlaes, the Chancellor, who came forward to grip Paul's arm in greeting. "It is kind of you to come."
    "It is kind," came the thinner voice of the King. He moved out from a shadowed corner of the room as he spoke. "I am grateful to you for indulging an old man's sleeplessness. The day has worn heavily upon me. Gorlaes, good night."
    "My lord," the Chancellor said quickly. "I will be happy to stay and-"
    "No need. Go to sleep. Tarn will serve us." The King nodded to the young page who had opened the door for Paul. Gorlaes looked as if he would protest again, but refrained.
    "Good night then, my lord. And once more, my deepest well-wishes on this brightly woven day."
    He walked forward, and on one knee kissed the hand Ailell extended. Then the Chancellor left the room, leaving Paul alone with the King and his page.
    "Wine by the table, Tarn. Then we will serve ourselves. Go to bed-I will wake you when I want to retire. Now come, my young stranger," Ailell said, lowering himself carefully into a chair.
    In silence, Paul walked foward and took the other chair. Tarn deftly filled the two glasses set beside the inlaid board, then withdrew through an inner doorway into the King's bedroom. The Page 29

    windows of the room were open and the heavy curtains drawn back to admit whatever breath of air might slide in. In a tree somewhere outside a bird was singing. It sounded like a nightingale.
    The beautifully carved pieces glinted in the light of the candles, but the face of the tall King of Brennin was hidden as he leaned back in his chair. He spoke softly. "The game we play is the same, Loren tells me, though we name the pieces differently. I always play the black. Take you the white and begin."
    Paul Schafer liked to attack in chess, especially with white and the first move. Gambits and sacrifices followed each other in his game, designed to generate a whirlwind assault on the opposition king. The