“To be honest, all the seats are best because they’re all the same,” the old man said cheerfully. “You and your friends are guests of honor. Serve the meal, Ratface. You may be dressed like a knight’s squire, but we all know you’re a scullery boy underneath.” Ratface sourly passed around bread trenchers covered in lentil stew and cups of cider.
“To new beginnings!” said the Bard, lifting his cup.
“To new beginnings!” the others echoed. They fell to, and no one spoke until they were finished.
“It’s excellent,” the Bugaboo said after his fourth serving of stew. “It just needs a tiny handful of mushrooms to improve it.”
“As usual, you show deplorable manners, criticizing the food,” said the Nemesis. Jack knew the hobgoblins were completely relaxed when the Nemesis started sniping at his king again.
“Thorgil has told us of your adventures, and I, of course, already knew some of them,” the Bard said. “You are to be congratulated, Pega. It’s no small thing to triumph over the elves. I knew, when you lit that candle at the Yule ceremony, that you were meant to do something important.”
“Thank you, sir,” she said, looking down shyly.
“And you, Jack, broke the ring of Unlife around Din Guardi. For a long time the life force has striven to enter. It was like a boil that festered and sent infection all around. Now it is healed.”
“I lost the staff from Jotunheim,” Jack couldn’t help saying.
“I know.”
Of everyone in the room, Jack thought, only the Bard understood what a terrible sacrifice that had been. The old man looked at him with such sympathy, the boy was afraid he might cry and disgrace himself. “There are other powers that come with sacrifice,” the Bard said quietly. “They are known to the Wise, but it takes time to learn them. I knew long ago, at the need-fire ceremony, that you, Pega, and Lucy had set immense change into motion. What I didn’t see was Thorgil. She gave what she most valued when she raised her hand against the Lord of Unlife. And gained much that she has not yet realized.”
“She?” said Brother Aiden and Father at the same time.
“You got used to hobgoblins. You can get used to Thorgil being a girl,” the Bard said. Jack was impressed with how he’d introduced each problem and made it seem like the most ordinary thing in the world. Father was even talking to the Bugaboo, and Brother Aiden had stopped crossing himself whenever he looked at the hobgoblins. Good old Bard! He got the best of everyone.
The door leading to the monastery opened suddenly, and in came Brutus—King Brutus, Jack reminded himself—and Father Severus. “Whew! It’s been a busy day,” exclaimed the new Lord of Din Guardi. “I haven’t been able to sit down once.”
“Tomorrow will be worse,” Father Severus assured him. “We were on our way to bed when I remembered a bit of unfinished business. You can pick out your own beds, by the way. The monks will be sleeping on the floor for a very long time. Dragon Tongue”—he turned to the Bard—“it is time you met someone.”
Father Severus stepped aside, and Ethne came into the room, making the candles seem to burn brighter. “Behold your daughter, Dragon Tongue.”
For the first time since Jack had known him, the Bard was rendered utterly speechless.
Jack understood now why Ethne had seemed so familiar. When she was elvish, she was like a younger version of Partholis. But when she was human—and Jack liked her much better then—she had the same blue eyes and even the same smile as the Bard. Some of her kindness probably came from him too. Alas, it was usually swamped by Partholis’ influence. Now the human side came to the fore.
“I always wondered who my father was,” Ethne said. “I asked Mother and she couldn’t remember.”
“Elves don’t.” The Bard finally found his voice. He looked stunned.
“I’ve heard so much about Dragon Tongue.”
“Seems like you made off with more than Partholon’s magic,” remarked Father Severus.
The Bard cast him a fierce look. “I’ll thank you not to spoil this moment. Ethne, believe me, I had no idea of your existence. I wish I’d seen you when I was young. It was sixty years ago when I was in Elfland, and you are young still, but that’s how things happen there.” The old man smiled sadly. “I haven’t much of a place to offer you, but you are most welcome.”
“She’s going to be a nun,” said Father Severus.
The Bard turned on him. “Now, that is too much. There’s more than one way to step into the stream of life, and I’m perfectly able to instruct her. I won’t have her spending hours fasting and turning her back on the beauty of the world.”
“But—Father—I like fasting,” said Ethne.
“It’s just a novelty to you. What you need is to be immersed in life, let it flow through you, learn to love.”
“I’ve been instructing Ethne for a year,” argued Father Severus. “I’m going to build a nunnery and send to Canterbury for an abbess to run it. Ethne will have companions and instruction. She’ll learn to do good works. She’ll be taught humility. I’ll root out that elvishness and cleanse her soul until the angels will fight over who gets the honor of carrying her to Heaven.”
“Oh, dear, dear, dear.” The Bard sighed and looked very old and tired indeed. “You have no idea what you’re dealing with, and I may not have enough years left to save her.”
Jack felt alarmed. He didn’t want to think of the Bard dying ever, even if it only meant he’d be reborn somewhere else.
“There are many branches on the Great Tree, child,” the Bard said gently, taking Ethne’s hands. “Christianity is only one leaf.”
But the elf lady smiled at him uncertainly. Jack knew she had no idea what he was talking about.
“She’s caught between two worlds.” The old man looked up at Father Severus. “I don’t know whether she can entirely abandon one of them.”
“With God’s help, she will,” Father Severus said.
“Tell me, Ethne, do you truly want to be a nun?”
“It sounds ever so much fun,” the elf lady said enthusiastically.
“Very well, I won’t stand in your way. But listen, if you ever need help—” The Bard paused, thinking. “I’m going to send you a cat. I know nuns are allowed pets. Treat him nicely and don’t forget to feed him.”
“This isn’t some wizard’s trick?” Father Severus said.
“Never!” The Bard’s blue eyes fairly blazed with innocence.
“He’s a cat I bought from an Irish sea captain who put in to Bebba’s Town. His name is Pangur Ban. If ever you feel frightened, my newly found daughter, tell your troubles to Pangur Ban. I often find it very soothing to talk to creatures that cannot possibly—ever… in no way… by any stretch of the imagination—pass on information.”
Ethne bent forward and kissed the old man on the cheek. “I’ll remember,” she said softly.
Then, because it was very late and everyone had had a tiring day, Father Severus said they should all go to bed. He had even employed a woman from Bebba’s Town to look after Ethne. He was a very organized man.
Chapter Fifty
HOMEWARD BOUND
Father’s leg healed more swiftly than anyone had dared hope. Even better, the limp was almost gone. “The bones were set badly when you were a lad, Giles,” the Bard explained. “Having them broken again was a fine opportunity to straighten them out.”
“If you say so.” Giles Crookleg grimaced as he put weight on his foot.
“You’d better ride the donkey. It’s a long journey.”