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.Aidan stood for a moment just inside the silver doors, listening to the silence, and then he began to walk.He looked at the walls as he walked: at the faded tapestries generations old; at the brighter, richer ones worked by Deirdre and her ladies.He looked at the intricate patterns of weapons displayed on the walls: whorls of knives and lances, brass bubbles of bossed shields, the gleaming patina of blades.Even the floors now were not so stark; carpets imported from foreign lands softened the hard bleakness of stone.Once Homana-Mujhar had been little more than a fortress, a stone shell; now it was the cynosure in all its magnificent splendor, the seat of Homana's power.And the font of that power was the Lion itself.Aidan at last looked at the throne, thinking of the smaller version on the Crystal Isle.But this one was different.This one was filled.This one housed a Mujhar.Aidan stopped dead.He felt betrayed, his intention usurped.It did not matter that he knew the man, or that he was flesh of the man's own flesh, only that he had come to summon his grandsire, and his father had stolen the chance.Brennan watched him with eyes devoid of expression.He sat slumped in the throne haphazardly, arms and legs askew.He wore black, as was his custom, and faded into the dim hollowness of the crouching Lion.Kivarna flared.Aidan sensed grief and anger and sorrow and pain; the acknowledgment of a new task.And the desire to abjure it altogether, if it would change the present.Aidan walked.And then stopped.He stood before the Lion and the Mujhar it now protected.Brennan did not stir, except to move his mouth."Men covet thrones," he said quietly."Men conspire and kill and start wars and destroy cities, all for the winning of a throne.But rarely do they think of what it means to sit in one… or to acknowledge the consequences, the cause of the change in power."Aidan said nothing."The firstborn sons of kings know they will inherit, one day," Brennan continued, "but they never think about how they will get it.They consider only what they will do when they are kings in their fathers' places, and what changes they might make, and how they will conduct themselves… but never do they consider how thrones pass into their hands."It seemed to require a response."How?" Aidan asked softly."A man dies," Brennan said, "to make another king in his place."Aidan purposely damped down the blazing of his kivarna.He had no desire to intrude on his father's anguish; and even less to let it intrude on his."He would not have wanted to live forever," he said evenly."Especially like that.You know that, jehan.His time was done.Yours was come.""Too glib, Aidan.""But the truth." Aidan glanced behind, judging the coals, then sat down on the rim of the firepit, balancing carefully."When did it happen?""Two days ago.At midday." Brennan scrubbed a hand across his weary face."He was with Deirdre, in her solar… they were discussing the need for refurbishing guest chambers.Nothing of any consequence…" He sighed, expression bleak."One moment he was fine, the next—as you saw him."Aidan nodded.He had heard of it before, though he had never seen the results."We were not at war," Brennan said."And most likely never to go to war again, so that he could die in battle… but somehow I always thought it would come upon him another way."Aidan thought of something he had heard once, and repeated it, hoping to soothe his father." 'A warrior can predict his death no more than his tahlmorra.' "Brennan grimaced."Too glib, again.But then you have always had smooth words when everyone else had nothing." He moved, putting order to his limbs."Why did you come?"Aidan, hunched on the rim of the firepit, stared blindly at the dais through eyes full of unshed tears."I wanted to bring him back."Brennan said nothing at first.And then he released an uneven sigh that bespoke the grief and understanding."I wish there were a way—""There is." Aidan's face spasmed."I have done it before… with other dead Mujhars.""Oh, Aidan—""I have."Brennan hooked rigid hands over the clawed handrests and pulled himself forward, from under the Lion's maw."Now is neither the time nor the place to speak of dreams—"Aidan was on his feet."But I do speak of them—because they are more than dreams!" He took two long strides forward, stopping at the first of three dais steps."Jehan, you have no idea how it is for me—how it has been for me—""I have every idea!" Brennan cried."By the gods, do you think we have not stayed awake at nights? Your jehana and I have spent countless days and nights discussing you and your dreams, trying to make sense of seemingly senseless things… Aidan, have you any idea how it has been for us?" He clutched the dark wooden throne."And now you come on the night of your grandsire's death to say you can summon him!""I can," Aidan whispered.Silence.Brennan's' eyes were ablaze with grief and something akin to frustration."We all loved him.We all would like him back.But none of us concocts a story—"" 'Tis not a story!"' Aidan shouted."I have spoken with dead Mujhars: Shaine, Carillon, Donal—why not with Niall now?"Brennan's face was ashen.His hands shook on the throne."I can," Aidan repeated.Brennan closed his eyes.I will prove it to him.I will prove me to him—Aidan clutched the links on his belt.If I cannot prove this to him, he will never trust me again.This is necessary."No," Brennan croaked.Aidan twitched, staring.He had begun to concentrate."No," Brennan repeated."You will not do this thing.""If I do not—""He is dead.Let him be dead.""The others have come, jehan—""I said let him be dead!" Brennan leaned forward."I do not know what—or who—you are… for the moment I would like you simply to be my son." His face worked a moment."I need you to be my son."Stricken mute by the magnitude of his father's emotions, Aidan could only stare.And then, when he could, he nodded.He took his hands from the links.Eventually, Brennan eased himself back in the throne.His posture was less rigid, his tone less intense.He smoothed the fit of his jerkin with a deft, yet eloquent gesture."So, you have settled on Keely's girl."Aidan understood very well what Brennan did.The change in topic was intended to change also the knowledge of what they had only just shared regarding Aidan's congress with dead Mujhars.Neither would ever forget it, but Brennan wanted it set aside so he need not deal with it.Aidan shrugged."Neither of us 'settled' on one another.The gods took an interest… there was no other choice.""She is not much like Keely… more like Sean."Aidan smiled faintly."She is very like Keely on the inside.On the outside—well, there is Keely there as well.Once you get past the Erinnish height and stature, and Sean's coloring…" He smiled more broadly."Shona is mostly Shona.""You realize the wedding will have to wait," Brennan warned
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Tematy
IndexMartha Chamallas, Jennifer Wriggins The Measure of Injury, Race, Gender, and Tort Law (2010)
A==03==POTOMKOWIE HARDCATLEA Lewis Jennifer RYZYKOWNA MISJA(amado i susanna) (2)
Echols Jennifer Miloœć, flirt i inne zdarzenia losowe
Jennifer Echols Miłoœć, flirt i inne zdarzenia losowe (2)
Lynch Jennifer Sekretny dziennik Laury Palmer
Blake Jennifer Bramy raju 00
Coburn Jennifer Oddam męża w dobre ręce
Kimball Kristin Brudna robota
Eo Lagerkvist Mariamne
Monroe Mary Alice Lato marzen