Crossroads and Other Tales of Valdemar

Tides of Darkness,

as well as the “Epona Sequence”:

Lady of Horses, White Mare’s Daughter,

and

Daughter of Lir

. She was a World Fantasy Award nominee for

Lord of the Two Lands

. She lives near Tucson, Arizona, where she breeds and trains Lipizzan horses.

LONG ago, after the magic went out of Valdemar but long before it came back again, the Lord of Forgotten Keep had a daughter. He was old and his Lady had thought herself past childbearing; his son was a man full grown and his elder daughter had children of her own. They were already eyeing their inheritance and reckoning the days until it came to them.

And yet in the twilight of their years, the Lady Beatrice found herself waking ill in the mornings. The Healer confirmed her wild surmise: she was, indeed, with child. In spite of her age and the Healer’s concern, the pregnancy proceeded as it should, and all was well.

Word of the Lady’s miracle spread through the region. One day, three months before the child was due to be born, a guest came to the Keep.

The Lady of Darkwall Keep had last visited Forgotten Keep when Lord Bertrand’s daughter was married, five years before. She was not a great traveler and visitor of her neighbors; she lived alone in her isolated Keep, high over a dark river that ran through a deep and fertile valley, and ruled a domain of farmers and river traders.

Her hosts were somewhat surprised by the visit, but they were hospitable people and she was a not-too-distant neighbor. They received her with courtesy. She responded in kind, with manners that could not be faulted.

The Lord was charmed. The Lady was not, but her moods had been strange of late. Even she was reluctant to trust them.

Darkwall’s Lady was an easy enough guest. She professed herself content to rest in her rooms until midmorning, take a turn around the Lady’s garden until noon, then join the Lady and her women in their bower until the day’s meal was served. Her conversation was light and pleasant, like the face she presented to her hosts.

On the third day, at last, she came to the point of her visit. She did so in the afternoon while the rest of the ladies plied their needlework and listened to their Lady’s page, who had a sweet voice and a singer’s gift. Her long white hands were folded and her expression was serene. She leaned toward Lady Beatrice and said, “I have a favor to ask—and favors to offer in return.”

Lady Beatrice was tired and uncomfortable and her temper was not at its best. Still, she managed to raise her brows and say reasonably, “Perhaps you should speak to my Lord.”

Her guest smiled with a touch of indulgence. “Oh, I shall, of course. But you and I know, Lady, that though a Lord claims to rule, his Lady holds the reins.”

“In your Keep, that may be true,” Lady Beatrice said coolly. Still, she was curious. “What favor can Forgotten Keep do for Darkwall?”

Darkwall’s Lady bent her head. Her smile had warmed considerably. It was almost enough to allay Lady Beatrice’s misgivings. “You know of course that I have no Lord, and therefore no heir. I have to come ask if you would consider an exchange: gifts and favors in return for your child.”

Lady Beatrice’s hand rose protectively over the swell of her belly. Her face hardened. “My child is not for sale.”

“Oh, no,” Darkwall’s Lady said quickly. “We’re no merchants, to buy and sell our own children. But we are highborn, and our best currency is the inheritance we leave our heirs. Your son will inherit the Keep. Your daughter is Lady of Mourne Fell. What is left for this gift of the gods? A boy may make his fortune as he can. A girl may be traded in marriage. Is either prospect more tempting than the lordship of Darkwall when I am gone?”

It was indeed very tempting. But Lady Beatrice was not a gullible woman, nor was she particularly softhearted. “That’s all very well for the child. What do you offer us in return?”

“A percentage of the river trade,” the Lady answered without hesitation, “to begin as this agreement is concluded and to continue unless or until your child chooses to end it. A promise of military aid for the same term, when and as needed. And, as earnest for the rest, a chest of gold in the amount proper for a Lady’s dowry—for it will be a Lady, my heart tells me, though I would hardly look amiss at a Lord.”

Lady Beatrice knew as mothers might, cherishing the knowledge that she carried a daughter. She eyed the Lady warily. “It’s a most tempting offer,” she said, “but my Lord must decide whether to accept or refuse.”

“Of course,” said the Lady with all apparent willingness. Then she smiled and beckoned to the page and asked for a new song—a joyful one, she said, in honor of the hour.