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her words； far more like a farmer's daughter than a princess…who could ever love Maegwin？ But now that she and her bewildered young stepmother Inahwen were all that remained of Lluth ubh…Llythinn's house； now Eolair was concerned。
Not out of any base motives； though。 She laughed out loud and did not like the sound of it。 Oh； gods； base motives？ Not honorable Count Eolair。 That was the thing she hated in him more than anything else。 his unrelenting kindness and honor。 She was sick to death of pity。
Besides； even if…impossibly…he could have thought of profiting at such a time； how would joining his fate to hers benefit him in any case？ Maegwin was the last daughter of a broken house； the ruler of a shattered nation。 The Hernystiri had bee wild creatures living in the woodlands of the Grianspog Mountains； driven back to their primeval caves by the whirlwind of destruction brought down on them by High King Elias and his Rimmersman tool； Skali of Kaldskryke。
So perhaps Eolair was right。 Perhaps she did owe her life to her people。 She was the last of Lluth's blood…a thin tie to a happier past； but the only such link that the survivors of Hernysadharc retained。 She would live； then…but whoever would have thought that merely living could bee a burdensome duty！
As Maegwin made her way along the steep trail； something wet touched her face。 She looked up。 A hose of tiny spots swarmed against the leaden sky。 Another bit of wetness flecked her。
Snow。 The realization made her cold heart even colder。 Snow in mid…summer； in Tiyagar…month。 Brynioch of the Skies and all the other gods have truly turned their backs on the Hernystiri。
A single sentry； a boy of perhaps ten summers with a red and dripping nose； greeted her as she entered the camp。 A few fur…wrapped children played on the mossy rocks before the cavern； trying to catch the now fast…falling snowflakes on their tongues。 They scrambled back； wide…eyed； as she walked past with her black skirts swirling in the wind。
They know the princess is mad； she thought sourly。 Anyone would。 The princess talks to herself； but to no one else for days at a time。 The princess speaks of nothing but death。 Of course the princess is mad。
She thought it might be good to smile for the fearful…looking children； but as she looked down at their dirty faces and their tattered rags of clothing； she decided that such an effort might frighten them further。 Instead； Maegwin hurried past into the cave。
Am I mad？ she wondered suddenly。 Is this crushing weight what madness feels like？ These heavy thoughts that make my head feel like the arms of a drowning swimmer； struggling； failing。。。 ？
The wide cavern was largely empty。 Old Craobhan； recovering slowly from wounds received in the futile defense of Hernysadharc； lay by the banked fire talking quietly to Arnoran； who had been one of her father Lluth's favorite harpers。 They looked up as she approached。 She could see them both studying her； trying to divine her mood。 As Arnoran began to rise； she waved him back down。
〃It's snowing；〃 she said。
Craobhan shrugged。 The ancient knight was nearly bald but for a few wisps of white hair； his scalp a puzzle of delicate blue veins。 〃Not good； Lady。 That's not good。 We've little livestock； but we're close…quartered in these few caves as it is； and that's with most of us outside during the day。〃
〃More crowding。〃 Arnoran shook his head。 He was not nearly as old as Craobhan； but was even more frail。 〃More angry folk。〃
〃Do you know 'The Leavetaking Stone'？〃 Maegwin asked the harper suddenly。 〃It's an old song about the Sithi； about someone named Nenais'u dying。〃
〃I think I knew it once； long ago；〃 Arnoran said； squinting his eyes as he stared into the fire and tried to think。 〃It is a very old song…very； very old。〃
〃You don't have to sing the words；〃 Maegwin said。 She settled cross…legged beside him； her skirt tight as a drumhead between her knees。 〃Just play the melody for me。〃
Arnoran scrabbled for his harp； then played a few tentative notes。 〃I'm not sure I remember how to 。 。 。〃
〃It doesn't matter。 Try。〃 She wished she could think of something to say that would bring a smile to their faces； even for a moment。 Did her
people deserve to see her always in mourning？ 〃It will be good；〃 she said at last； 〃to think of other times。〃
Amoran nodded and plucked briefly at his strings； eyes closed； his quarry easiest sought in darkness。 He finally began a delicate air； full of strange notes that quavered just on the edge of dissonance without ever crossing over。 As he played； Maegwin； too； shut her eyes。 She could once again hear the voice of her nurse from long ago； telling her the story of Drukhi and Nenais'u…what strange names they had in old ballads'…telling of their love and tragic deaths； their warring families。
The music went on for a long while。 Maegwin's thought swirled with images of the distant and not…so…distant past。 She could see pallid Drukhi bent in grief； swearing vengeance…but he wore her brother Gwythinn's anguished face。 And Nenais'u； sprawled lifeless on the greensward： was that not Maegwin herself？
Amoran had stopped。 Maegwin opened her eyes； not knowing how long the music had been silent。
〃When Drukhi died avenging his wife；〃 she said as if continuing an earlier conversation； 〃his family could not live with Nenais'u's family anymore。〃
Amoran and Craobhan exchanged glances。 She ignored them and went on。
〃I remember the story now。 My nurse used to sing the song to me。 Drukhi's family fled away from their enemies； went far away to live apart。〃 After a pause； she turned to look at Craobhan。 〃When will Eolair and the others return from their expedition？〃
The old man counted on his fingers。 〃They should be back by the new moon； in a little less than a fortnight。〃
Maegwin stood up。 〃Some of these caverns run deep into the mountain's heart；〃 she said。 〃Is that not true？〃
〃There were always deep places in the Grianspog；〃 Craobhan nodded slowly； trying to understand her。 〃And some were delved even deeper； for mining。〃
〃Then we will start exploring tomorrow at dawn。 By the time the count and his men e back； we will be ready to move。〃
〃Move？〃 Craobhan squinted； surprised。 〃Move where； Lady Maegwin？〃
〃Farther into the mountains；〃 she said。 〃It came to me as Arnoran sang。 We Hernystiri are like Drukhi's family in the song： we cannot live here anymore。〃 She rubbed her hands together； trying to ward off the chill of the cavern。 〃King Elias has destroyed his brother Josua。 Now there is nothing and no one left to drive Skali away。〃
〃But my lady！〃 Amoran said； startled into interrupting her。 〃Still there is Eolair； and with him many other brave Hernystirmen remaining。。。〃
〃…There is no one to drive Skali away；〃 she continued harshly； 〃and the Thane of Kaldskryke will doubtless find Hernystir's meadows a more hospitable home in this freezing summer than his own lands in Rimmersgard。 If we stay here； we shall be trapped eventually； slaughtered before our caves like rabbits。〃 Her voice grew stronger。 〃But if we go deeper； they will never find us。 Then Hernystir will survive； fa