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〃Not the dead； Eneppa；〃 said Josua。 〃Camaris lived； but lost his wits for many years。〃
〃But although I know your face； my good woman；〃 the old knight said wonderingly； 〃I do not recognize your name。 Forgive me。 It has been a long； long time。〃
Eneppa began to cry again in earnest； but she was laughing； too。 〃Because that is not my name in that time。 When I work in your father's great house； they call me Fuiri… 'flower。' 〃
〃Fuiri。〃 Camaris nodded。 〃Of course。 I remember you。 You were a lovely girl； with smiles in full measure for everyone。〃 He lifted her wizened hand； then bent and kissed it。 She stared open…mouthed as though God Himself had appeared in the room and offered her a chariot ride through the heavens。 〃Thank you； Fuiri。 You have given me back a little of my past。 Before I leave this place； you and I will sit by the fire and talk。〃
The sniffling cook was helped from the room。
Seriddan and Brindalles both looked stunned。 The rest of the baron's followers were equally amazed； and for some time no one said anything。 Josua； perhaps sensing the battering that the baron had taken this night； merely sat and waited。 Camaris； his identity now confirmed； allowed himself to sit down once more； he； too； fell into silence。 His half…lidded gaze seemed fixed on the leaping flames in the fireplace at the table's far side； but it was clear to Isgrimnur that he was looking at a time； not a place。
The stillness was interrupted by a sudden burst of whispering。 Heads turned。 Isgrimnur looked up to see Pasevalles walking straddle…legged into the room； something large and shiny was cradled against his small body。 He stopped just inside the doorway； hesitated as he looked at Camaris； then moved awkwardly to stand before his uncle。
〃I brought this for Sir Camaris；〃 the boy said。 His bold words were belied by his shaky voice。 Seriddan stared at him for a moment； then his eyes widened。
'That is one of the helmets from your father's room！〃 He nodded solemnly。 〃I want to give it to Sir Camaris。〃 Seriddan turned helplessly to his brother。 Brindalles looked at his son； then briefly at Camaris； who still was lost in thought。 At last； Brindalles shrugged。 〃He is who he says he is。 There is no honor he has not earned； Seriddan。〃 The thin…faced man told his son： 〃You were right to ask first。〃 His smile was almost ghostly。 〃I suppose sometimes things must be taken down and dusted off and put to use。 Go ahead； boy。 Give it to him。〃
Isgrimnur watched in fascination as Pasevalles walked past clutching the heavy sea…dragon helm； his eyes as fearfully fixed as though he walked into an ogre's den。 He stopped before the old knight and stood silently； although he looked as though any moment he might collapse beneath the weight of the helmet。 At last； Camaris looked up。 〃Yes？〃 〃My father and my uncle said I may give you this。〃 Pasevalles struggled to lift the helm closer to Camaris； who even sitting down still towered above him。 〃It is very old。〃
A smile stretched across Camaris' face。 〃Like me； eh？〃 He reached out his large hands。 〃Let me see it； young sir。〃 He turned the golden thing to the light。 〃This is a helm of the Imperium；〃 he said wonderingly。 〃It is old。〃
〃It belonged to Imperator Anitulles； or so I believe；〃 said Brindalles from across the room。 〃It is yours if you wish it； my lord Camaris。〃
The old man examined it a moment more； then carefully put it on。 His eyes disappeared into the shadows of the helm's depths； and the cheek…guards jutted past his jaw like blades。 〃It fits tolerably well；〃 he said。
Pasevalles stared up at the old man； at the coiling； high…finned sea…worm molded along the helmet's crest。 His mouth was open。
〃Thank you； lad。〃 Camaris lifted the helmet off and placed it on the table beside him。 〃What is your name？〃
〃P…Pasevalles。〃
〃I will wear the helm； Pasevalles。 It is an honor。 My own armor has gone to rust years ago。〃
The boy seemed transported to another realm； his eyes bright as candleflame。 Watching him； Isgrimnur felt a twinge of sorrow。 After this moment； after this experience with knighthood； how could life hold much but disappointment for this eager child？
Bless you； Pasevalles； the duke thought。 I hope your life is a happy one； but for some reason I fear it won't be so。
Prince Josua had been watching。 Now； he spoke。
〃There are other things you must know； Baron Seriddan。 Some of them are frightening； others infuriating。 Some of the things I must tell you are even more amazing than Camaris alive。 Would you like to wait until the morning？ Or do you still wish us locked up？〃
Seriddan frowned。 〃Enough。 Do not mock me； Josua。 You will tell me what I need to know。 I do not care if we are awake until cockcrow。〃 He clapped his hands for more wine； then sent all but a few of his benumbed and astonished followers home。
Ah； Baron； Isgrimnur thought； soon you'll find yourself down in the pit with the rest of us。 I could have wished you better。
The Duke of Elvritshalla pulled his chair closer as Josua began to speak。
7
White Tree； Black Fruit
At first it seemed a tower or a mountain…surely nothing so tall； so slender； so bleakly； flatly white could be anything alive。 But as she approached it； she saw that what had seemed a vast cloud surrounding the central shaft； a diffuse milky paleness； was instead an incredible net of branches。
It was a tree that stood before her； a great； while tree that stretched so high that she could not see the lop of it； it seemed tall enough to pierce the sky。 She stared； overwhelmed by its fearsome majesty。 Even though a part of her knew that she was dreaming； Miriamele also knew that this great stripe of white was a very important thing。
As she drew closer…she had no body： was she walking？ Flying？ It was impossible to tell…Miriamele saw that the tree thrust up from the featureless ground in one smooth shaft like a column of irregular but faultlessly polished marble。 If this ivory giant had roots； they were set deep； deep underground； anchored in the very heart of the earth。 The branches that surrounded the tree like a cloak of worn gossamer were already slender where they sprouted from the trunk； but grew even more attenuated as they reached outward。 The tangled ends were so fine that at their tips they vanished into invisibility。
Miriamele was close to the great tree now。 She began to rise； passing effortlessly upward。 The trunk slipped past her like a stream of milk。
She floated up through the great cloud of branches。 Out beyond the twining filaments of white； the sky was a flat gray…blue。 There was no horizon； there seemed nothing else in the world but the tree。
The web of branches thickened。 Scattered here and there among the stems hung little kernels of darkness； clots of black like reversed stars。 Rising as slowly as swansdown caught in a puff of wind； Miriamele reached out…suddenly she had hands； although the rest of her body still seemed curiously absent…and touched one of the black things。 It was shaped like a pear； but was smooth and turgid as a ripe plum。 She touched another and found it much the same。 The next one that passed beneath her fingers felt slightly different。 Miriamele's fingers tightened involuntarily and the thing came loose and fell into her grasp。
She looked down at the thing she had captured。 It was as taut…skinned as the others； but for some reason it felt different。 It might have been a little warmer。 She knew； somehow； that it was ready…that it was ripe。
Even as she stared； and as the tendrils of the white tree fell endlessly past her on either side； the black fruit in her hands shuddered and split。 Nestled in the heart of it； where a peach would have hidden its stone； lay an infant scarcely bigger than a finger。 Eyelids tiny as snowflakes were closed in sleep。 It kicked and yawned； but the eyes did not open。
So every one of these fruits is a soul； she thought； or are they just。。。 possibilities？ She didn't quite know what these dream…thoughts meant； but a moment later she felt a wash of fear。 But I've pulled it loose' I