The quarters Izulen had been given were spacious enough, though the previous occupant had left behind a pile of things in the corner. Izulen, tired but not ready to go to sleep yet, decided to go through the pile to see if there was anything interesting in it.
It was mostly old clothes and hides with blurred ink on them. One hide caught his attention though. It was a score. When he tried to pull it out of the heap, he found that it was half inside of a gitar case. Heart racing, he wrestled the case out and opened it.
A beautiful, almost new gitar was nestled inside. There was a name embroidered on the velvet cloth that covered it. "Anisol," Izulen read aloud, not putting a face to the name.
Checking to make sure the door to his quarters was closed, Izulen strummed the strings lightly. It was out of tune, but it had a deep, rich sound that was sweeter to Izulen's ears than any he'd ever heard.
A soft knock on the door made Izulen flinch. He shoved the gitar back into its case and the case back into the pile. "Come in," he called as he flung himself onto his bed.
The door opened and Nita walked in. Her emerald eyes darted to the pile in the corner and then to Izulen's face. "You don't have to pretend," she told him. "Not everyone here hates music. You found the gitar, didn't you?"
Izulen regarded her for a moment before giving her the barest of nods. "It's a beautiful instrument," he told her.
Nita smiled sadly. "I know." She walked over to the pile and, kneeling, pulled the gitar case out of it. "Come with me."
She didn't offer him a choice, simply stood and started for the door, expecting Izulen to follow. Against all his instincts, he followed her down the stairs and out a back way into the night air.
"Where are you taking me?" he asked once they were outside.
"Someplace were we can talk," was her only reply as she strode through the field and into the forest.
She stopped at a tiny pool in the center of a clearing. She sat on the bank, dangling her feet into the clear water. "I've never brought anyone here before," she told Izulen as he sat down next to her.
"Why are you bringing me?" Izulen asked.
Nita smiled. "I don't know. It's just... you're the first person I've met since Anisol died who still had the spark of music and life left in them. Ranna and Aizra and Halani may seem lively, but they're as dull as anyone else around here. They can't even remember music."
"I noticed," Izulen said, strangely relieved that there was someone else saw what he did in the holders.
"It wasn't always like this," Nita told him, hugging her knees to her and resting her chin on them as she stared off across the pool. "Da used to love music. He'd have harpers come and play whenever he could. He was thrilled when Anisol announced he was going to become a harper."
"Who's Anisol?" Izulen asked.
"My brother," Nita replied in the same far-off, dreamy tone. "He died seven turns ago on his way from the Hall to a post."
"Is that why your father hates harpers?" Izulen asked, the peices of the puzzle fitting together in his mind. "Why he hates music?"
"He doesn't hate music," Nita replied sadly. "It just reminds him of Anisol. Of what he lost. If someone could teach him to love it again..." she fingered the gitar case thoughtfully and then thrust it into Izulen's lap. "Would you play something for me?"
"Uh, sure," Izulen replied, taking the gitar out of its case. "Was this... did this gitar belong to your brother?"
Nita leaned her head against his shoulder and nodded, tears in her eyes as she stroked the neck of the instrument. "He loved it so much. Da burned all the music he had here, but I hid the gitar in the room you're in now so he couldn't."
Izulen strummed the strings once, marveling again at the sounds and then pulled out the music that had been stuck in the case. He frowned as he read the title. " 'Moonlit Dances'?" he asked. "Who is this by?"
Nita smiled. "My brother. He wrote it for our parents. But... he died before he could give it to them. I couldn't bare to let my father burn it."
Izulen felt like he was somehow trespassing as he plucked the first few notes. Nita shivered and nestled closer to him. After one scan of the music, Izulen hesitantly played it, though not perfectly. But even site-read it was obvious it was a beautiful peice, the product of a brilliant composer. The second time he played it, the beauty sent shivers and down Izulen's back. He could feel the beat of the dancers' feet on the ground, see her dress sparkle as he spun her.
Izulen let the last note die away into silence and, for once in his life, was content with the silence. He almost didn't dare to breathe and break the spell. Nita sighed and gazed up at him. "That was beautiful. It's been so long since I've heard music like that."
"It's been so long since I've played music like that," Izulen told her, the same breathless wonder in his voice.
back || next
