The Naming Read Online Free PDF

should laugh. She noticed that as he spokeCadvan was constantly alert, but in ways she didn't recognize. He never looked around or behind him, but seemed to be innerly attuned to something she couldn't hear, as if inside him flowed a music that, at times, demanded intense attention. It felt a bit odd, as if he were only half there.
    "There is much you should know about Bards and the Light," said Cadvan. "To have the Gift, and to be ignorant of what it means, can be a terrible thing." He began to speak in an oddly formal tone, almost a chant, which at first nearly made her smile. She had a swift unbidden vision of a stone hall with high windows, and of many people seated in a circle, their heads bowed in concentration. The vision vanished, and she looked around her at the empty night and the gloomy shadows of the mountainside; but Cadvan's voice continued steadily in the darkness.
    "Know then, Maerad, that in Annar and the Seven Kingdoms the Bards are charged with the keeping of the Light. The centers of Knowing are the Schools, but it was not always so. Many lives of men ago, the center of the Lore was Afinil, Citadel of Song, built when the first Loresingers came to Annar. Some say a terrible cold drove them from their home, and others that they sailed here on great ships from a foundered land, and still others say they simply appeared here among other humans; whatever the truth, our origin is lost in legend. However they came, Bards appeared in Annar, bringing with them the remnants of an ancient Knowing from the very dawn of the world: the Gift of the Speech, and Reading and Making and Tending, the skills and knowledge known as the Arts of the Light. And here was built the great city of Afinil, which was the center of the Knowing in the ancient days.
    "Many songs tell of its unmatched beauty, of the unwalled towers that rose like lilies beside the mere, beside the pure face of blessed water. And within this citadel dwelt the Loresingers, all those who loved and tended the beauty of the world. The Speech was on all tongues, and all met with understanding."
    Cadvan's voice shifted subtly into a chant. Maerad's heart quickened; she couldn't remember the last time she had heard a new song. Even in her surprised pleasure, the musician in her noted coldly that Cadvan possessed a very good baritone.
    "Dashed into darkness, deeper than heartgrief,
    All voices mourn thee, high and humble,
    Treespeech and beastspeech, manspeech and bard,
    All voices mourn thee, fruit of the dawn,
    Flower of ice enchanting the sunlight,
    Shadow of moonbeam woven from marble,
    Throat of the morning where all voices mingled.
       In Afinil, O Afinil!
       Thy dreams are lost, thy music still,
       The briars creep where thy towers were
       And the stars are dark in the shadowmere.
    "So it is remembered in song as an ache, a memory of something lovely, now lost forever. The story of its loss is an evil one. But you must know it, if you are to understand the Bards. For the gifts of the Light, alas, were its own undoing."
    Maerad stumbled again and this time fell, scrambling up immediately. Cadvan stopped. "Are you all right?" he said.
    "Yes," she snapped, embarrassed, pressing her hands together where she had grazed them on the rock.
    Cadvan looked at her sharply. "You haven't rested, and after a heavy day's work, no doubt," he said. "We must press on; but perhaps we can stop for a little while now, to go all the faster afterward." He sat down on the ground, just where he was, and gratefully Maerad sat down next to him. Her legs were shaking. Cadvan opened his pack and drew out a bottle. "This helpsweariness," he said. He drank some, then offered it to Maerad. It tasted like water, but with a faint hint of herbs. A fiery tingling rushed through her body, and some of her exhaustion immediately lifted. In the sudden quiet, the valley felt oppressively silent, and when Cadvan began to speak again, Maerad almost jumped.
    "Afinil, as I said, fell in part