The Lady of the Sorrows

"If you manage to leave my cottage unmarked and reach the Court, you will likely be richly rewarded, you understand. Gold coins can buy security, or at least a measure of it. When all is done and your work discharged, then you shall have leisure to decide whether to doff the widow's veil and show yourself, and risk all that goes with being Imrhien of the Golden Hair."

"There is good sense in what you say," the girl admitted to the carlin.

"Of course there is. And if you had your wits about you, you'd have thought of it yourself, but I expect you've lost them in that glass. By the way, are you aware that you speak with a foreign accent?"

"Do I? I suppose it is Talith."

"No. It is like no dialect I have ever heard."

"Am I of the Fa?ran? It is said that they lived forever . . ."

The carlin cackled, true to type. "No, you certainly are not one of the Gentry. Not that I have ever set eyes on any of them, but there is naught of the power of gramarye in you. If there were, you would know it. You are as mortal as any bird or beast or lorraly folk. None of the Fair Folk would get themselves into such scrapes as you manage. And yet, your manner of speech is not of any of the kingdoms of Erith. Your accent's unfamiliar."

"The Ringstorm that encircles the world's rim—does anything lie beyond it?"

"Let me tell you a little of the world. Some say that it is not a half-sphere but an entire orb with the Ringstorm around its waist dividing Erith from the northern half. That is why the world has two names; 'Erith' for the Known Lands, and 'Aia' for the three realms in one, which comprise the Known Lands, the unknown regions on the other side of the Ringstorm, and the Fair Realm. Of those three realms only Erith is open to us. Many folk have forgotten the Fair Realm. Some say it never existed at all. People believe what they can see. Furthermore, it is commonly held that nothing lies beyond the Ringstorm, that it marks the margins of the world, and if we were to pass further than that brink, we would fall into an abyss."

"Mayhap there is some path through the Ringstorm."

"Mayhap. Many have tried to find one. The shang winds and the world's storms are too much for any sea-craft. The Ringstorm's borders are decorated with broken Seaships."

"Mayhap there is a way through to Erith from the other side, from a land on the other side where they speak differently . . ."

"Too many 'mayhaps.' Let us to the business in hand."

"Yes! Madam Maeve, I am concerned for your safety. Should I depart hence under an assumed persona, the watchers will believe Imrhien Gold-Hair bides yet here, and they may keep watching for a time until they tire of it and assail your house."

"A good point." Maeve thoughtfully tapped her ear with a knitting needle. "Ah, but if they think they see Imrhien Goldenhair leaving and they follow her, then find out it was a ruse and rush back here and see no sign of her, they will think she escaped during their absence. In sooth, she will have. An excellent plan—nay, ask no questions, it will all be clear to you soon. Meanwhile, I had better rouse Tom—he has errands to run for me in Caermelor. We shall need money to carry out this scheme. How much have you?"

"Madam, please accept my apologies. Your words remind me that I owe you payment for your healing of me, and my board and lodging. What is your fee?"