Renunciates of Darkover by Marion Zimmer Bradley

Author:Marion Zimmer Bradley
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Darkover, Free Amazons, telepathy, magic
Publisher: Marion Zimmer Bradley Literary Works Trust
Published: 2018-07-24T00:00:00+00:00

A BEGINNING

by Judith Kobylecky

Judith Kobylecky has a new baby, so this story is a beginning in more than title. Congratulations; I wish I did—my honorary grandson is already seven—they do grow fast, don’t they, though you never believe it when they’re driving you nuts being small and noisy. You turn around twice and they’re six foot four!

She says this story “was written immediately after Emma was born, which accounts for its very short length. The story kept wanting to expand, but newborns are very wonderful and difficult to tear yourself away from.” Aren’t they just. “Also I was tired. “ Babies do that—especially when you have other children, like Judith, who, with her husband John Orr, also has Ian, age 3, and Anna, age 6. I wrote my first thirty books with kids yelling all over the house—and about being a writing mother, there’s nothing to be said—nothing fit for public consumption, that is—except, take heart; they grow up faster than you’d believe. My youngest is now almost 25—and I am convinced that I ought to be carrying her around on one arm.

I could write pages and pages about the delights of being a full-time housewife and mother and trying to write and support a family with two babies—but I don’t use that kind of language in public.

The settlement was still burning as Ailain picked her way around its smoldering timbers. Almost hidden in the smoky haze she could see three figures slowly searching through the ruins. Ailain was too numb to wonder who they were or for whom they were looking; she had already found her dead. Cradled in her arms she carried her beloved’s sword wrapped in the banner it had been his pride to carry into battle. For the clan’s honor generations had fought a blood feud, the cause forgotten. Both sides had finally perished at this battle. All were dead now, except Ailain and the others moving wraithlike through the smoke, searching, searching. A wail of grief told her that one of them had found what she was looking for; the sobbing broke through the wall she had built around her own pain and drove her to the banks of the river. As she knelt to wash the soot and blood from her hands, she was careful not to drop her burden; she alone was left to uphold the clan honor and she feared to put them down for a moment.

At the sound of quiet footsteps she turned to see that the other survivors had been drawn to the river as well. Ailain knew who they were; the clan symbols braided into their long hair identified them as plainly as if they had spoken. The woman with the bandaged hand wore the symbols of her ancient enemies; she was as dirty and tired as Ailain herself. The other two were members of traveling merchant families caught in the fighting; they had had no part in the feud but had lost their people as well.

As Ailain stood up, the others eyed her warily.

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