Far I Go

Whendred the Whisperer took a quiet road to Gar Heldred. He feared his fears would find him if he walked any other.

Lighting a lantern that was not his own, Whendred slipped into the twilit night, an ashen cloak obscuring every inch of his skin. The mill creaked behind him, and his eyes flicked to catch the sighing silhouette of the blades. A hushed wind blew beneath his hood from somewhere beyond there, and a shiver whispered through his bones. He ignored the chill, but his eyes would not leave the house.

It took but a simple blink, and his gaze slipped away. Whendred returned to watch the road, his head low as he began into the trees. The forest was silent as he walked along, but for the gentle shhhsh of the wind in the leaves, and the moon was a sliver behind the timid clouds. Carefully he crept, never disturbing rock or vine where it crossed his path, always wary of the soundless shadows that seemed to stalk him through the trees, always watching the next bend of undergrowth where the road disappeared. He kept the lantern close as the remaining dusk gave way to complete the black of night. It wasn't so different a road than those he'd known years ago, but the darkness did seem to cast something of a shadow upon his mood.

The hazy hours bled into the next as Whendred walked, nothing but the night consuming his attention. In truth, there was nothing but the night. What more could he think of? He would not let his thoughts dance as they once did, carried off to reminisce of a desire that was not his own. It seemed to him as he walked, however, that the longer he dwelled on things that were not his, the more he desired them.

Unbidden images crept into his mind. The turning of the mill in the dark was as a whisper that tickled his ear, seducing his soul to return. He counted the stones that led him to the house, and heard the creek and thump of the door. The light that poured out from the candle on the table was nearly as real as the darkness that truly surrounded him. He saw the bed in the corner, its sheets unkempt, the wagon wheel and crop propped against the footlocker; the dusty hearth and mantle of dried flowers; the cabinets and bookcases on the other walls, crowded with pageless book-bindings, and jars full of feathers, clotting ink, and delicate shards of painted glass. He saw finally the unopened letter on the table. The scarlet seal was broken only by the knife Whendred had thrust through it. He knew the words within, the delicate hand that wrote them.

Yet, somehow, his thoughts remained.

Whendred slipped nigh into a dream as he walked, not realizing as his feet slowed.

He saw the crimson towers of Lea Arabon rise before him, felt the flagstones familiar beneath his feet. He saw the way into the keep, and could see every face he ever passed inside, aware as they looked on in envy that they would never know what was buried beneath the beauty of their city. Whendred had long known those depths, but the allure, warm and deep and pretty as it was, was far too easy to lose one's heart in.

Tower after tower Whendred passed, the one he sought on the farthest end of the city, buried at the heart, embraced by the mountainside. Selendria, it was called. The life of the city seemed to beat around her, the red people making merry in their opulence and wealth.

As the evening turned the streets to gold, Whendred watched those he passed. Women danced in the streets coquettishly, children played, men sang drunk from the bars and rooftops, hawkers cursed each other as each boasted their wares over the others’. North and south, east and west, high and low, their dress was much the same. The men, the women, the old, the young, all wore cloth of rich colors, golden and silver jewelry adorning necks, wrists, ankles, fingers, pierced through their ears, noses, lips, and anywhere else one could think to sink a needle. Now and again, a hunched figure or two in black drab could be seen slinking in or out of a back door or an alleyway.

Whendred tried to put the people, colorful or otherwise, out of mind. Intent he was only on the tower rising before him. The setting sun at his back lit the higher red stones with its most regal flame, while shadows of the city danced on those lower.

He ascended the steps to the tower from the courtyard, and as he reached the top the great doors to the hall rumbled open. A woman, fairest hair and silken dresses, tall and refined, strode from the tower, escorted by single guard in silver armoring. The glint of her eyes and the curl of her lips changed when she saw Whendred.

“All my hope was not in vain,” she said. Her voice held the grace of a petal, but beneath was the sharpness of the thorn. “My letter reached you after all.”

Whendred bowed. Of course he'd gotten the letter, or he would not have come so soon. It had found his door a fortnight ago, soft and sealed in scarlet. “My lady Selaine can trust her judgement well,” he said, his voice nothing more than a whisper.

“Come then,” she said, offering her hand. “I wish to see the lake as the sun touches it.” She slipped her hand into his arm as he joined her, and together they set across the courtyard.

Near the moorings on the lake was a balcony that lead off from a garden square, overlooking the water. It was a pond, really, but few there were who called it such. Whendred and the lady approached the white balustrade of the pier, their armored shadow close at hand.

“It is a lovely eve,” she said, resting her gloved hands on the pearly stone. “Would that we only had music.” He stood facing her against the rail, but was content watching the sun play her light on the water.

“Come, you must sing for me,” she said abruptly. “Sing of you travels, your journey here.”

He smiled. “You must not tease,” he said in his whisper. “If I had such a voice even to speak, I fear I would still know music too poorly to sing to you, Selaine.”

“Whisper me a song, then,” she said. His tongue was ready to disappoint her with another excuse, but her eyes shone with a silent plea.

“Very well,” he whispered. “If it will please you.”

He chose one of the very few songs he knew, one that most sounded as though it might be sung at a lakeside, and as he began to whisper out the song, Selaine relaxed into the balustrade.

Well I leave you,

Far I carry you on.

Safe I leave you,

Far my feet have gone.

Crying I leave you;

I go to follow a song.

Long I leave you;

I go for I am gone.

Far I go, far I go,

’Cross the wind and through the snow.

Far I go, far I go,

Without a star to follow home.

Will I stay?

Long I may.

Wait for me

Anyway.

Find a boat

To rock the blue;

Blue I'll be

Every day.

Well I’ll find you,

Safe in castles warm.

Safe I'll find you,

Whispering to the storm.

Crying I'll find you,

Behind a curtain torn.

Though I'll find you,

I go when you are born.

Far I go, far I go,

’Cross the wind and through the snow;

Far I go, far I go,

Without a love to guide me home.

Selaine was crying silently when the song was over, lines running down her cheeks.

“I'm sorry, Selaine,” Whendred whispered. “I'll sing something happier if you like.” But she shook her head.

“It's a cruel world here,” Selaine said, “and I---” A sudden sob broke in her throat, and her eyes squeezed tight as tears streamed from them.

“Selaine?” Whendred whispered carefully, and touched her arm with a steadying hand.

She gasped and lashed away from him, her eyes wide. Then sank to the ground, sobs shaking in her chest.

“Selaine, I don't—” he began to move toward her, but as he did he saw something silvery flash from her sleeve. He veered back a moment too slowly, and the dagger tore open his shirt, slashing a red line across his chest. When again she attacked, Whendred caught both her wrists and shook the blade free. It clattered to the ground, a sprinkle of blood staining the white cobblestones.

“No!” she insisted, fighting. “No!”

Cold settled in Whendred's chest as he looked from the dagger on the paving to the little girl struggling against his grip. The silver guard made no move, as if a gargoyle set in painted stone.

“Selaine… I don't understand.”

“They want your life!” she cried. “They only want your life!”

“Who?” he said sharply. “The barons? Your father? Selaine, please…”

“They know we married!” she said. She finally stilled, but would not look at him. “They know…”

“And you would kill me?” he hissed. The dagger may as well have entered his heart. “Selaine, I don't understand.”

“You wouldn't,” she said, still averting her eyes. She tugged her arms. “Let me go.”

Whendred picked up the dagger and tucked it in his belt, then took Selaine to the tree on the edge of the square. He sat her roughly on a delicately carved, stone bench, beneath the wide canopy of white branches and red leaves.

“I'm letting you go,” he whispered. “This is what you wanted, my lady Selaine.” He turned away to leave her weeping into the white stone, her shoulders shaking as the pain unravelled.

As he had left Lea Arabon, the sun finally having slipped beyond the mountains, something in Whendred's chest had cracked in half. It had left only a shadow of a desire he once felt so strongly. But desire leaves burns and bruises… and scars.

He felt his chest as he crept through the shadows on the road to Gar Heldred. It was still sore, but had crusted over after a fortnight. What lay beneath was mending poorly in comparison.

The riling beat of horse hooves was the first sound that disturbed stillness in the forest. Whendred blew out the lantern and darted into the trees, wrapping his grey cloak tight around him. The rider reined in the horse, the hooded figure turning its head about as if startled by a sudden noise.

“Whendred?” It was a woman's voice that whispered through the dark.

Selaine? For the briefest moment, a light flickered in his stomach. But it was drowned all too quickly by the darkness issuing from what was rent in his chest.

He stepped from the trees, through the mist that was beginning to creep out of the forest.

“Selaine,” he whispered. She threw her hood off when she saw him, the scant moonlight illuminating her pale hair. Whendred came no further than the edge of the road. When Selaine dismounted she kept hold of the reins, biding close to the horse.

“The Whisperer is traveling north, they said.” Her voice was the one he remembered, but touched with a desperate plea. “He would not say why, only that he must get far away.” She stepped timidly, imploringly toward him. “I know why, and I know you can never forgive me.” She closed the distance and knelt at his feet. “But they gave me a choice. My forbidden love must die, or…” her eyes whelled with tears and her lips pursed, “or our child...”

All at once, Whendred was weak. His stomach trembled in the cold, a question burning in the air from his throat. “Why…” did they… is he…

“He lives,” she said, “safe in Alantaire. The barons believe that is where I am gone.”

“You told them you were gone south,” he whispered, “but followed me north instead. Why?”

“I…” she cried, “I need you... I never wanted you to let me go.”

Whendred knelt and took her hands, helped her to stand. “Then I forgive you,” he whispered. She looked into his eyes, tears from her's flowing anew. “But you must return home.”

Her eyes shattered, and she clung tighter to his arms. Whendred wrapped her up in an embrace, kissing her fair head.

“Dearest lady Selaine,” he whispered as she cried. “I am gone finally to Gar Heldred. When you can, bring the child and find me. If that is what you wish, I will be waiting.” She nodded into his chest. “Time, Dearest. Time is what I leave you with. Time with our child. Time to become whole. Take him from your father's house and raise him in mine. That also I leave you. It is little, but it is all a child needs... save for a good mother. And when you can, bring him north and he will have a father as well. And I will have you.” He held his head against her's, their lips inches apart. “Now, go.”

Her hands slipped from his, trembling. Tears streamed down her sobbing throat as she turned slowly back to her horse. The dark nor the shadow of her cloak could hide her beauty as she sat high in the saddle, a sorrowful longing in her eyes.

As he watched her ride away, a song came to Whendred's lips.

Far I go, far I go,

’Cross the wind and through the snow.

Far I go, far I go...