Ollo Alferia ko Mariera
Away to the south Audvelyn stretched, and lay At its ease like a kitten purring in the sun, Where the Auda River flowed far away, Picking up many a flower in the course of its run, And then discarding it once again for the joy Of running uninhibited, light its only toy. It carved a course through a land that may Still endure, though long past is the one
Who carved it and made it what it was then, As the river had carved a course through the earth. She was mighty, a powerful shining Elwen, Land Elwen in the old way, by deed and by worth. She was called Mariera, for her hair was green As the flashing color sometimes in the water seen. She was known as the most unsmiling of women, Fierce in war, and never speaking of her birth.
All knew that she had come down the river, Long ago, as the centuries were measured. She had even then a look that made many shiver, And war and battle more than love she treasured. She wed with a man who felt much the same. Their love, so-called, was like a leaping flame. And when he vanished one day, a quiver Was all that Mariera offered, though pleasured
By the disappearance of her husband many thought She must be; she often loudly disdained men. Her ears every rumor of their sword-work caught, And she would compare them to the best of women, And declare them lacking. Her husband was the only Man who had ever defeated her, and lonely Many thought she might have remained. But she fought More than one war. And sometimes- now and again-
She would speak of her desire for a child. She might have wed, as some thought, to have one. She nearly did not wed- the betrothal was wild, And caused many a rumor to fly and run. Her husband nearly drowned once in Auda-water. And then, not long after the birth of their daughter, He simply vanished. Mariera more often then smiled, And would laugh openly at her daughter's fun.
Her daughter was so lovely she caught the breath, So keen that she could have whetted a blade. Alferia her mother named her; and it was said death Himself would have stopped, and gazed, and stayed At the look of the mind in her rich violet eyes. Her silver hair was somewhat of a surprise, Since her parents of any such color were bereft. But everyone agreed that she was a luthe maid.
Early on, her mother trained her in the sword, And it was said that admirers loved to gaze upon The two of them sporting like lions on the sward Near where the Auda River flowed ever on. The lighter, the lither figure, was often Alferia; The quicker, the keener figure, was Mariera. And as mother, so daughter; soon nary a lord Could match Alferia. In her skill's and life's dawn,
She shone like a diamond, like a star silver-bright. She had not her mother's darkness of face. But then, she was younger, and still full of light, And had not, like Mariera, come down Auda-race Bearing the marks of many burns here and there, Half shorn of her wits, half shorn of her hair. It was only to be expected that she learned to fight As she did to sing and dance in that place.
But one day Mariera took her daughter apart, To the place where the Auda curved round upon A bank that had inspired many a maker of art, For there grew flowers colored like the dawn, The altali that are so beloved of alalori. They were rare even at the time of this story, And now, though perhaps in Summerfire's heart There still grows one, they are mostly gone.
There Mariera stood gazing up Auda-water, Her hands clenched before her, her brow bent As though she would lash out in sudden slaughter Of the place where water and bank blent. In silence Alferia watched her troubled mother. Though she knew her as did no other, Ever was Mariera a mystery to her daughter, And she had never known what this darkness meant.
Mariera spoke then, her voice low and almost soft, Though thick with a hatred that could make blood fly. "Did I ever tell you that I think about it, oft and oft, The place from which I came, the fairest place under sky? There is life and joy, more than here; there is beauty. If only there were, there, true allegiance to duty! They would have lifted me, my people, high aloft, And not, as at my exile, stood in silence by."
Alferia stared at her mother in silent wonder, For it seemed a great- nay, an impossible thing, That her mother could have permitted any to sunder Her from something she loved, or forcibly fling Her from any place she still loved after this while. Almost timidly, Alferia said, "Why did they exile You? My lady mother, your face is like thunder. Why did you not make them in sharp pain sing?"
Mariera turned to her, and her face was indeed Like the thunder of which Alferia had spoken. Her hands clenched; her nails made her palms bleed. Then, with a cry, the words from her were broken, As though torn from her upon a torturer's rack. "I am here because I still dare not go back, Remembering the magic that against me was freed, Remembering the pain still- by this token!"
And she touched a hand to her hair, aside The thick locks of green pushing with a curse. Alferia leaned close, and in awe and horror sighed. Bad as she had seen wounds, this one looked worse, Seeping blood, seeping blackness, seeping pain. But when they touched her hair, then again These things vanished, as if told not to bide. Had this pain her mother borne from the first?
Alferia looked up, and found the answer waiting In Mariera's gaze, which had turned black as storm. Her mother whirled and stared north, hurting, hating. Her emotions about her rose, making the air warm. Alferia swallowed, and uttered a soft- silent- prayer That her mother never meet who put the wound there. Surely some death someone would be awaiting- And it might be her mother who came to such harm.
"I am well," said Mariera, when some time had gone, And Alferia saw that her eyes and her face were clear. "I am reminded of that, sometimes- of exile's dawn, And when they cast me down the river, and here I came. It has only been you, my daughter, who has Made these years less of a grinding of broken glass. Only in you have I heard the notes of love's song, And found someone who might cry me a tear."
Alferia's heart swelled, as she gazed on her mother, Shining in her breast with a full and proud light. "You are my atel. I wish for no other," She said, in a voice like the fall of clear night. "Command me, my lady! What might I do To avenge the wrong or the insult to you? Dearer to me than ever could father or brother Be! Tell me, who should I hunt? Who fight?"
Mariera turned then, and her calm smile Banished all memory of the storm and the blood. "Fight he who was the reason for my exile," She said in a voice like the rushing of flood. "I cannot go back; the wound in me would flare, And make my head burst beneath my jade hair. But thou- thou, my daughter, can tarry a while In safety in Summerfire, and bring him down in blood."
"Summerfire?" whispered Alferia. Her heart Contracted, or perhaps missed a beat, at the name. Even here they had heard how, by its Lord's art, Summerfire was safe from the magic's insane Assaults and attacks that went on elsewhere. The country, it was said, was incomparably fair. But also madness and power did not dwell apart, And the Lords of Summerfire were lords of flame.
But Mariera's gaze did not waver or stir. "Summerfire," she agreed. "Thou shouldst have been The princess there, seated on sable and darkfur, Ruling over both worthy women and lowly men. Thou shouldst have been the shining one lifted Above all others, by the wild magic gifted, And above all, thou shouldst have been her Who would make the Summerfire line sane again.
"By decree of the men alone, who want to keep The rulership, the honor, and all the power, Women are not allowed to ascend to the steep Heights of lordship. In Summerfire's sublime hour, Many are too afraid to challenge the Lord. I did, and for that I was exiled and abhorred. But now my vengeance will no longer sleep. Wilt thou go back, and show them what flower
Hath grown here, a flower of nightshade? Thou art worthy of the challenge, my daughter. Ever since half-senseless I was laid Upon this back by the flowing Auda-water, I have dreamed of bearing one who could match Me in strength and wonder, and unheralded snatch The Lordship away. But thou art such a maid As I had never dreamed, worthy of the slaughter."
And then such passion overflowed Alferia That she drew her sword, to her mother knelt. "I swear by all the stars of Irrimaria," She said, her voice quivering with what she felt, "That I will take your revenge, or die trying. He shall know doom from the south flying- And in good time the Lady Mariera Will know the magic, and sit on sable pelt."
Mariera gazed down at her daughter, a smile Just touching her lips as she stroked her hair. "The stars grant such gifts but once in a while," She said, "and rarely do they give one so fair. Yes, my daughter, I think that thou wilt do What I could never do- and then vengeance true Will take hold of Summerfire, and end my exile. Listen closely: this must you do when you get there..."
Or, if you like, on to the third canto.
Or, if you want, back to the first canto.
