CARAAMON: moved Legend of the Phoenix, The, Part 2 (book) to Legend of the Phoenix, Part 2 (book)

2011-09-20T18:19:16Z

moved Legend of the Phoenix, The, Part 2 (book) to Legend of the Phoenix, Part 2 (book)

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CARAAMON: The Legend of the Phoenix, Part 2 (book) moved to Legend of the Phoenix, The, Part 2 (book)

2009-01-28T18:54:41Z

The Legend of the Phoenix, Part 2 (book) moved to Legend of the Phoenix, The, Part 2 (book)

← Older revision	Revision as of 13:54, 28 January 2009
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CARAAMON at 05:57, 2 October 2008

2008-10-02T05:57:49Z

← Older revision		Revision as of 00:57, 2 October 2008
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	"I see the woman fails to appear... I was certain		"I see the woman fails to appear... I was certain

Maintenance script: Book:MxxLP2 moved to The Legend of the Phoenix, Part 2 (book): standardization

2008-05-05T05:28:23Z

Book:MxxLP2 moved to The Legend of the Phoenix, Part 2 (book): standardization

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Maintenance script: New page: Category:Book "I see the woman fails to appear... I was certain she would," Lord Tenowith crowed. "Perhaps for the inconvenience you have caused me I shall just sharp...

2008-04-05T23:02:11Z

New page: Category:Book "I see the woman fails to appear... I was certain she would," Lord Tenowith crowed. "Perhaps for the inconvenience you have caused me I shall just sharp...

New page

[[Category:Book]]

"I see the woman fails to appear... I was certain
she would," Lord Tenowith crowed. "Perhaps for the
inconvenience you have caused me I shall just sharpen
my sword upon your bones and you will not again raise
an old woman as a champion against me." His voice
boomed in the crisp stillness and I felt terror creep
into those around me. "I think not, Tenowith..."
a firm steady voice rose in reply, "for I am here as
I promised." Rosamynde had walked upon the field so
silently I had not heard her.

Tenowith and his men had to turn their mounts to face
her. She stood bare headed, her body covered in worn
silvered mail. Upon her brow she wore a circlet of
silver set in the center with a large cabochon of
polished horn. Her hair was shorn close to her scalp
leaving little else but a cap of fine white strands.
Someone in the crowd hissed, "Gods be praised!"
Voices rose in a sudden, excited buzz against my ears
even as I gasped in horror at the sight of my
beloved's beauty marred by some sharp-edged blade.

Lord Tenowith growled as his retainers whispered
among themselves. One bent and twisted man pushed
his way through the crowd and knelt stiffly at
Rosamynde's feet. "I knew you would come! I prayed
and prayed," his worn and cracked voice whispered.
"Aye, old man." Rosamynde helped him to his feet,
handing him her gauntlets and balaclava as she kissed
him on the forehead. Tears spilled down the old
man's cheeks as he fell in step behind her. I seemed
to be held fast to the earth by some unseen hand,
unable to speak or act as Rosamynde approached.

"Lord Tenowith," Rosamynde called up to the still-
mounted man. "You are uncharacteristically silent."
She smiled sadly. "Your grandfather, as I recall,
was also quiet. But unlike him, your heart is
blacker than Katamba's shadow. Call off your wizards
who cower the people with sickness..." she paused as
if choosing her words carefully. Her frame stood
straight and proud as she whispered in a tone to
chill the blood, "and I will not be forced to kill
you."

The wind rose in sudden agitation, filled with
stinging grit, ash and rain, causing cloaks to billow
and eyes to sting. Someone, I do not know who,
whispered against my ear. "Have faith healer, The
Firebird will defeat him." Tenowith dismounted, his
plate gleaming as the sun rose behind us. If I had
not known what a vile man he was he would have
appeared a god, wreathed in golden sunlight.

"It is you who will lie dead today, woman," he said
disdainfully. "Urrem'tier will feast on your soul."
Rosamynde reached for her gauntlets that the old man
held out for her, and slowly slipped them onto her
hands. It was as if she were weighing his words
before replying. Then she turned, searching the
crowd until her eyes found mine. She walked slowly
to where I stood. Leaning against me, she laid her
cheek to my chest -- holding me so tightly I feared I
could not take a breath. As I inhaled slowly, my
senses filled with her familiar scent and I raised my
hands to her hair. Tears spilled down my cheeks
uncontrolled as I fought with myself to not beg her
to leave the field. "So beautiful . . .." was all I
managed to choke out before she kissed me. It was
not a farewell kiss, nor the kiss of lovers long
parted. It was as if in that one moment she sought
to remind me of all we had shared. Tenderness,
warmth and passion mingled with the salt of her
tears.

The old man tugged gently at her elbow and held out
the balaclava. "Firebird, the sun is risen. The
time is now upon us." Rosamynde nodded, and I felt
the cool metal of her gauntlets as she tried to brush
the tears from my cheeks. "Have faith, Cadfaul, and
know that you are my heart and soul." She turned
then to face Tenowith who had remained strangely
silent throughout this tender moment. "Are you ready
to take the field?" she asked him, placing her helm
upon her head. "Aye, I am ready," he snarled, "to
put my blade through your heart!" He moved away from
the crowd to a more open area before the crowd. Then
the oddest thing happened -- Rosamynde began to
chant. Magic prickled along my arms and up my back
as her words began to weave and blend into an endless
droning sound. She walked without the weight of her
years, as if youth infused her soul. Balance and
ease carried her frame as she crossed the distance to
meet him.

The wind died as suddenly as it had come, and only
the odd droning chant hung onto the air, continuing
on and on. They faced off, and one of Tenowith's
retainers dropped his lance as a signal for them to
begin. Rosamynde, as I expected, took the defensive,
allowing him the first strike. But, I had not
expected her to parry it with such force or such
finesse. I watched in wonder, as my once silent,
gentle wife became a warrior. Sound wove and curled
around her like a shield. The old man stood at my
elbow, tears competing with joyous grins for control
of his countenance. Tenowith stumbled and everyone
cheered, and surprisingly his retainers made no move
to silence them. My heart beat in my throat; all I
could do was pray.

The ringing of blade against blade lasted for endless
moments until Tenowith's sword found its mark and
blood appeared over my wife's ribs. As Rosamynde
faltered, the odd droning chant ceased as she
struggled to regroup. Tenowith crowed with laughter,
"Old women should not challenge men to battle!" I
could not see her face, but the line of her shoulders
told me all I needed to know. She was hurt and very,
very angry. With renewed energy she leapt at him,
driving him back again and again as her sword found
its mark more than once. Obviously in trouble,
Tenowith called for his men to fall upon the crowd.

Suddenly, Rosamynde drove her sword upwards, burying
it in Tenowith's chest as a long, high-pitched cry
erupted from her throat. Horses and people alike
cringed in near-pain at the sound of it. In the
aftermath, Tenowith lay dead. Rosamynde sagged
against her sword and then fell in a lifeless,
wilted heap at his feet. "Daughter!" screamed the
old man, pulling on my arm with a terrified urgency.

We rushed across the field, he with the odd gait of a
very old man, me with limbs stiff with dread.
Retainers and townspeople milled about as if lost,
moaning and holding hands over their ears. My own
head ached from the sound my wife had created. "Help
her! Help her!" the old man screamed at me. I laid
my hands upon her, and tried to pull my healing gifts
to my mind. Then I remembered the staff as nausea
rose in my gullet and I felt the full weight of the
mark upon my soul. Oh, Sweet Hodierna! What had I
done? Rosamynde moaned as I tried to remove the
armor from her chest. Blood shown red at the corner
of her mouth and her breath came in rasping, ragged
gasps. She looked up at me and smiled. Warm grey
eyes filled with love as she whispered, "Have faith
beloved -- all will be well with faith."

Wailing, I cradled her as the life slipped out of
her. I do not know how long I knelt there, lost in
grief. People with torches pulled at my clothes
in the dark, tugging at my arm, forcing my hands to
release her still, cold form. Someone carried her
back to town, as I wandered behind babbling over
and over a prayer to Hodierna. But instead of the
temple, we went once more to the old guildhall, and
there they laid her upon the worn and broken altar.
The old man waited, dressed in scarlet and gold.
Torches burned, but where once there had been cobwebs
and dust now hung rich tapestries vibrant with life.
Fresh rushes covered the floor filling the air with
the rich scent of new grass.

Women sang softly as they prepared her body, bathing
and dressing her in silken robes. I sat silent as
stone, numb with grief. At dusk the old man rose
from his place beside the altar and with great
tenderness blessed her body to meet the gods. I
gazed about and noticed for the first time that the
room was crowded corner to corner with kneeling,
praying souls. They all seemed refreshed and renewed
as if some great weight had been lifted from their
shoulders. For the first time in my life I did not
know what to do. I had seen death many times and
felt its chill, yet never in such a personal way.

As the sun slipped through the broken roof to touch
the altar all the praying stopped. One by one, each
person rose and placed a branch or log in a growing
pile around the base of the altar. The old man
lifted a torch and threw it upon the growing mound of
wood; Rosamynde was ringed in fire almost instantly.
I screamed as I tried to get to her through the
crowd, but the old man held me back. "Have faith, my
daughter's husband. Have faith." The fire leapt
higher forcing us back outside the broken wall;
rushes and tapestries licked with flame and were
consumed along with my beloved in one great glowing
ball of fire.

The wind rose, swirling around us to a howling gale.
Tearing at our clothes it forced us back even farther
as it lifted the flame upwards, pulling and straining
against the dark sky. The old man began to sing and
the others joined him -- not in grief but elation --
a joyous ode of praise and thanksgiving. "Sing for
her! Sing for the Firebird! Sing for your beloved!"
he yelled to me against the howling mix of music and
wind. So I sang, and sang and sang. We all sang
pouring our hearts into our words as the pillar rose
higher and magic crawled along my skin. Tingling my
body from head to toe, the air was alive with it --
pulsed with it like the constant thud of a beating
heart.

All at once, the air was sucked from our lungs. With
a loud *whoosh* a phoenix rose from the pyre,
brilliant red-gold flames boiling upwards with a
raucous and defiant scream. Heat and air rushed out,
throwing us all to the ground as the shimmering
manifestation of faith hung suspended before us. A
woman's voice, clear and jubilant, called out, "Come,
Cadfaul. Display your faith and receive its
reward." Dumbstruck I stared, filled with awe and
wonder and unable to move.

The old man dragged me to my feet. "Go! Go NOW!" he
screamed, shoving me towards the rolling wall of
flame. I stumbled forward terrified. Rosamynde's
voice echoed, "Have faith, Beloved..." and suddenly
calm, I walked into the flames. They curled and
jumped around me yet did not touch me. I walked
deeper, seeing the burned out shell of the walls as I
passed them. Ash was thick against my feet but did
not burn. Upon the altar rested a loaf of fresh
bread and a jug of tart cool mead. A warm voice
surrounded me.

"For twenty years you have shown your faith,
steadfast and true as the rising of the sun. Your
mead and bread have strengthened me, even as your
heart has held fast to my praise. She who is your
wife I chose at birth, and marked as my own true
Bard. Her father, my cleric, dedicated her to my
path with his teaching and wisdom. She grew to
become my greatest warrior, my finest Skald. Bards
once flourished here, but they became haughty, vain
and proud, forgetting from whence their gifts and
inspiration came. All save one, My Firebird. I lost
patience with this place, its people turned their
face from my voice. I would have forsaken them all
but Rosamynde begged for their preservation. She
gave up her Voice, her Music, and her Song in
exchange for their protection. Today she gave her
life to prove their worth, that which I, in my anger,
had forgotten."

Rosamynde walked through the fire -- at first I
thought she was an illusion. She smiled at me,
wrapping her arms, strong and firm, about my chest.
"Take me home, Beloved." I fell to my knees in the
fire and ash and wept. Rosamynde pulled me to my
feet and we walked through the flames as they died
around us. Out through the ash and cooling coals
that did not harm us, into the cool, crisp spring
air.

Legend of the Phoenix, Part 2 (book) - Revision history

CARAAMON: moved Legend of the Phoenix, The, Part 2 (book) to Legend of the Phoenix, Part 2 (book)

CARAAMON: The Legend of the Phoenix, Part 2 (book) moved to Legend of the Phoenix, The, Part 2 (book)

CARAAMON at 05:57, 2 October 2008

Maintenance script: Book:MxxLP2 moved to The Legend of the Phoenix, Part 2 (book): standardization

Maintenance script: New page: Category:Book "I see the woman fails to appear... I was certain she would," Lord Tenowith crowed. "Perhaps for the inconvenience you have caused me I shall just sharp...