Time of the Eagle Read Online Free PDF Page A

rising of the moon we dream of our lost land. For the land is our life, our hearts’ home, our place of belonging. In it lies our freedom and our peace. So we wait for the day of our return. We wait for the Eagle’s Time.”

3

    W ith the end of the story, the formal part of the night was over.
    The roasted meat was brought in, and we were ready to feast. Zalidas spoke a blessing over the food and over us, and then, for the only time in my life, I was allowed to fill my bowl first, before the chieftain.
    I don’t remember that we ever had such a feast before, except for Yeshi’s wedding night when I was four summers old. We ate until we could eat no more, then the musicians played and we danced to the pipes and drums while the elders clapped in time to the music’s beat. We worked up a high lot of excitement with our leaping and whirling, and the drums echoed back like heartbeats from the mountains. When we were all worn out the musicians put their instruments away, and it was time for the priest’s final blessing on me.
    He was standing where Yeshi and I had sat for the story, with my father’s sword above him. I stood before him, with the whole tribe gathered behind me, pressed close. There were only us twostanding, the priest and I, for his blessing was like a foretelling for my life, and was for my ears alone. But as I waited a fear went over me that he would say things too heavy for me to bear. With all my being I was aware of my father’s sword, of the letter from the Empress Petra, of the vast, wondrous heritage my father had given me, and I hoped I could be worthy of it.
    Zalidas began with the traditional blessing, and I bent my head, my eyes closed. I felt the weight of the priest’s hands on my hair. I felt, too, the pain in him, his great weariness. “All-father, put your hand on this daughter’s life,” he said. “Keep her in your love, in the knowledge of you and all your ways.”
    He hesitated, and I waited for his whispered personal blessing. But he lifted his hands from my head, and I glanced up. He had stepped back and was clutching his chest, his eyes rolled upward. I thought he was ill. Beside us, Yeshi leaped to his feet. Suddenly Zalidas began chanting. A strange chant it was, low and haunting and powerful, such as he used in trances when he moved in other realms and saw into the deep mysteries of things. He was reciting an ancient prayer, talking to those long departed from this world.
    Spellbound, afraid, I watched him. I saw a white light about his head, and a shifting in the shadows all around. A look of rapture came over him. He seemed to grow, to shine, to gather about himself powers and presences that blessed and uplifted him, until he seemed strong and potent, and the years fell off him; and there was no pain, only a great glory and a communion with things otherworldly and high. All this I understood in my heart, and the hairs rose on the back of my neck. I wanted to flee, but the priest’s hand shot out and gripped my wrist. At thesame time his chant became a song. He sang of war and of peace, of fields of fire, and the shadow of a mighty eagle’s wings.
    As his voice died away there was a profound quietness in the tent, except that some of the old ones sobbed. I was trembling, for he still held my wrist, and I could feel the power in him. I thought he had finished, but he suddenly cried out in a loud voice: “Gabriel, our beloved son, began the Eagle’s Time, but his daughter, she shall finish it! He bought our freedom, but she shall bind us together with the tribes of the Hena and the Igaal, those who once were enemies, and she shall unite us into a great army that shall win us back our land! This day the Eagle begins its flight! This day its rise begins! This day, with this daughter, blood of the new and blood of the old, child of love out of nations that hate, child of war and child of peace, Daughter of the Oneness,