"Would it help if you spoke to him in that-that secret language of yours?" Rosemary asked Alan, privately.

"Perhaps. But it would be like pulling a flower into bloom. He will come to himself in his own time, and his own peculiar way."

Hal's way was to dream. He no longer slept quite so much, but spent hours staring into the distance with clouded eyes. Alan sat silently by, hours on end, as if his wordless presence could somehow be of help; he did not dare to offer any other help. Rosemary looked in on them from time to time, and then quietly went away. She sensed that she was not needed-not yet.

Sometimes, in his trance, Hal would whisper words in the Elder Tongue, snatches of song and legend. He spoke of Bevan of Eburacon, and later of Veran, and Brand, and Brent; all the Blessed Kings. He spoke of Adaoun and Claefe, even of Lysse. Alan watched and listened day by day, waiting for the name of Mireldeyn.

"Elwyndas," Hal murmured. "Elwyndas, mir belledas kellarth."

His trance broke like a thread, and he sat bolt upright

222 THE SILVER SUN.

with a cry; tears rolled down his face. Hastily Alaa caught at him, afraid he would fall.

"My brother, my brother!" he choked. "How could I have forgotteni" He stared wildly into Alan's eyes, and Alan put his arms around him, trying to steady him with his embrace. In a moment, Hal let his head fall to his brother's shoulder.

"You gave me your blood," he sobbed.

"Some time ago," Alan acknowledged. "I would do it again if I thought it would help. Softly, Hal."

"It all rolls on me now, like a tide," Hal groaned. "The accursed Tower, and Roran, and you riding away. . . .

And Robin, woundedl And Arundell" Hal stiffened in anguish.

"They are nearly healed," Alan told him earnestly.

"Robin is longing to see you, but we thought it would distress you. Softly, Hal!"

"Softlyl" Hal pulled back to face him as if facing his judge. "I had forgotten them; I had forgotten you and- and Rosemary. .. ." His voice trembled with the magic of the name.

"Hal," Alan charged him gently, "do not be so hard upon yourself. You have been hurt to death; indeed you have passed through death's dark realm with only your innermost strength of will to sustain you. You have been spent in body and spirit. It is not strange that your heart heart has rested, these days past."

"Still...." Hal faltered.

"Still, nothing!" Alan barked in exasperation. "Not an- other word, brother. Lie back; you are ailing."

Hal settled into his pillows with a tremulous smile. Alan stood by his side.

"If you like, I will send her to you now," he added.

Hal nodded. Alan touched his hand, then strode off to find Rosemary.

The next day he and Hal talked for hours, retracing the events since they had taken different paths. Hal re- called little of his illness, but one thing he did re- member: the pitiless majesty of Elwyndas. "You made me swear. . . ." he murmured.

"By the burden of your birth." Alan said it for him.

"Why, Alan? Was not the pledge of our love enough?"

"My love would have let you leave me, or forgiven you for breaking your word. You knew that," Alan ex-

The Dark Tower 223

plained grimly. "But the burden of your birth has no escape and no forgiveness to offer. I could bind you by nothing less." Alan's eyes were lowered. "Do you hate me for it, Hal?"

"You brought me Veran's balm,*' answered Hal, and that one sentence said all.

But in the week that followed Alan saw less of Hal, as Rosemary and the others saw more. When Hal and his love were together, Alan roamed the castle aimlessly, un- able to set his mind to anything except the thoughts of Lysse that tormented him. He was glad of Hal's happi- ness, and of the healing comfort that Rosemary gave him, but Alan had no such solace. Sometimes Rosemary glimpsed the darkness in his face, quickly hidden, a sad- ness too noble to be called envy, and she wished she could bring him to his lover. She never guessed what dis- tance of more than miles separated Alan and Lysse.

She was astonished daily at the change in Alan. There was a new knowledge in his eyes; wisdom, indeed. Rose- mary had always thought of him as a straightforward, generous fellow, his greatness shining in his face and deeds. But now he had known some sorrow which was not easily defeated, and the bearing of it had given him stature that made him seem more Hal's brother than ever before. Rosemary wondered about the strange green stone she had seen, the pendant that hung, hidden, by his heart.

Whence had it come, and what was the meaning of its glimmering light?

Somehow Alfie seemed to have changed along with his master. Next to Arun or Asfala, he had always seemed an awkward, ramshackle beast. Now he looked as sleek and finely molded as a greyhound or a deer. He moved with a powerful grace born of rightful pride. His muscles rippled in his long limbs; his flanks shimmered in the sunlight; his eyes sparkled with a golden glow. Gazing into their amber depths. Rosemary thought she saw some- thing of the mystery that was in Hal, for Hal was always uppermost in her thoughts.

How he had reached out to her, once he had come back to himself. He had whispered her name, pressed her hand to his thin face; later he slept with the warmth of her lips still lingering on his. Even in his weakness he thrilled her, his words and his touch at once tender and bold. No question, now, that he loved her! He no longer

224 THE SILVER SUN.

kept a courtly distance between them, and every hour with him brought her new happiness.

One day, when Rosemary went to the walled garden to gather flowers for the sickroom, Alan stood there, wait- ing beneath the trees. She saw at once from the set of his jaw that something was afoot.

She had just come from Hal. "How is he?" Alan asked, and for a moment she forgot Alan*s brooding face in her joy. "Much stronger," she replied. "Today he sat and ate without help. I think he will soon be able to walk."

"Then the burden will soon be on him again," Alan muttered. "As soon as he has taken a few steps, you will find him swinging a sword, preparing himself to take up his journey once again." Striking his thigh with a fist, he turned to her. "I am no good here, my lady. I am leav- ing."

"Leaving! But Alan, why?"

"As the best gift I can give to him and you. I give you both the precious days for your own. Let him have time for healing, and let him be yours alone, for the time. Let him not think of his task, or of leaving you, until I have returned."

She sensed the pain that underlay the gift, and her eyes brightened with unshed tears as she gave him the only comfort she could. "Oh, Alan," she whispered, "it is no wonder that I love you like the brother I never had."

For a moment his face softened as he reached out to her in mute thanks. Then he turned away, and she watched the hard set of his back as he strode off to see Hal.

"There is nothing for me to do here," Alan explained to Hal, a little later. "I will go to Laueroc, to see how time turns in the home of my fathers. I shall be back be- fore the leaves fall."

"Will you take Cory with you?" asked Hal, after a long silence.

"Nay. He needs the rest." That was not true, and Alan groped for a better reason. "I would rather have him here with Robin. I feel that I must go alone."

Hal looked searchingly at him, seeing love and foolishness and perhaps a touch of shame. He found no words to give to Alan. "Go with the One at your side," he said at last, and held out his left hand. They passed their

The Dark Twer 225

grip in silence; then Alan quickly left. Hal lay staring at a closed door.

There was a sort of timelessness in Celydon, Hal found, timelessness which Alan had given at some nameless sacrifice to himself, but it had its source in the lady. Rose- mary sat at the bedside, sewing Hal shirts of soft lineo, for hours, or days, he scarcely knew which; the time passed on tiptoe, unnoticed. As he grew stronger, they talked more, and sang to the plinset, old songs and new. Soon Hal was strong enough to spend part of each day in the garden. Rosemary could almost see the sun and air nour- ishing him, as if he were a blossoming plant. After a while they took walks, longer each day, until they were roaming far afield. When they rode the horses, they roamed farther yet Hal was strong and healed by then, but he did not visit Ket in the Forest or go to the practice yard. Never had Rosemary seen the burden lie so lightly on him. For whole afternoons they would lie in the sun amidst the long meadow grasses, and he would make her flower garlands for her hair. They would talk of love, and kiss long kisses, deep and warm. Rosemary would gladly have given herself to him entirely, but he would not take her; not while the likelihood remained that he would be killed to leave her destitute and dishonored. Only in this way did he acknowledge his burden-except for one day.

It was three days after Alan left. Hal had asked Rose- mary to fetch her father to his bedside, and when Pelys arrived Hal asked for her hand in marriage. But before Pelys gave his consent, he felt, he must reveal his birth to them both. Pelys would hear nothing of it.

**Tut, tut, lad, do you not think that I know you after an this time? You are wise, and brave, and well suited to be my daughter's husband. I do not need to know any- filing more."

"There is peril all around me. It may well reach out and touch her, and you."