Authors: L. M. Roth
Judoc at last
sank into a chair in weary gratitude. The ordeal was over: Melisande had given
birth to a child after a long and grueling labor that left her so weak that her
mother-in-law had feared for her life. In her exhaustion and pain the young
woman had clung to the older one, clutching at her hands and beseeching her
with her eyes to ease her suffering.
At one point
Melisande had surprised Judoc by crying out for her own mother, a cry that tore
at the maternal heart of her mother-in-law, who knew the cry could never be
answered. Then Melisande appeared to realize what she had done, and turned her
face away, shedding silent tears into the cushion that Nolwenn had placed
behind her head. Judoc felt a pang of compassion, and stroked the younger
woman’s forehead, pushing back the strands of hair matted with sweat that had
fallen forward onto her brow. With the back of her hand she dried the tears
that still coursed down Melisande’s cheeks, a gesture that seemed only to make
the girl cry all the harder, but whether because she missed her mother or
sensed Judoc’s wish to comfort her mother-in-law could not say.
The birth had
surprised them all, coming a month before its time. It was the stress of all
that she had suffered, Judoc surmised. Not only the loss of Brenus, but all of
the friction between Melisande and Cort had placed strain on a woman carrying a
child, perhaps even inducing labor before its time.
Judoc realized
with a twinge of pain that today was the anniversary of Melisande’s marriage to
Brenus. Was that what had brought on the birth, perhaps, the memory of that
event, and missing her husband who would not see his child brought into the
world?
She knew that
if Cort or Maelys had been there they would have scoffed at the notion that Melisande
loved Brenus. Yet, Judoc remembered the alarm in Melisande’s eyes when Brenus
had not returned from hunting, and the agony of grief she exhibited when they
had brought his body home. She simply could not bring herself to believe that
either the fear or the grief was merely an act to fool those around her.
She sensed
that her daughter-in-law’s feelings for her husband had been more complicated
than her own children gave her credit for. They were young yet, and saw
everything as black or white; but Judoc knew that all too often affairs of the
heart were tinged with gray, where motives and feelings were mixed and neither
completely pure nor wholly evil. That Melisande had married Brenus coldly with
no feeling for him at all she could not believe, and she had seemed perfectly
happy with him when she and Dag met her for the first time. It was not until
after Melisande had met Cort that Judoc noticed a change, but what had happened
that brought that change she did not wish to speculate about…
The cry of the
baby brought her to her feet, and sent her rushing to the child’s side. A
little girl, tiny and mewing like a newborn kitten; Judoc smiled unconsciously
at the sight of her first grandchild. Already she loved this reminder of her
son, and noted that she had a look of her father with her black hair and sturdy
little fists now curled up in frustration at a dissatisfaction she was
powerless to express.
The cries
reached Melisande and she feebly attempted to sit up to tend to the child, but
Judoc pushed her back gently on the bed and urged her to rest.
“Hush, be
still,” she soothed her as tenderly as if she was a child herself. “I will look
after the babe until you are strong enough to care for her. Nolwenn shall tend
to her brothers, but I will stay here with you.”
Such
unexpected kindness reduced Melisande to tears, and once more they started
rolling down her cheeks. Judoc brushed them away, and before she knew what she
was doing, she kissed her daughter-in-law’s brow as if she had been one of her
own children. For a moment they bonded as they had when Brenus died, all
animosity between them forgotten in the common emotion of the instance.
“What name
have you chosen for her, if I may ask?” Judoc inquired, as she pulled up a
chair to sit beside her.
Melisande
smiled at her weakly, her face pale with exhaustion and pain, and her eyes red
from crying.
“I have
decided to choose an Eirini name in honor of Brenus, and because this is her
homeland also. Nolwenn has been helpful in selecting a name. We chose one for a
boy, and one for a girl. And the name she shall have is Gwenaelle, which is
fitting I think, as it is also very close to the name of my grandmother
Gaelle.”
Judoc smiled
in satisfaction; she had expected Melisande to choose a name from her own land
and that she had chosen to honor Brenus instead assured her that the girl had
had some feelings of affection for her son. At the same time, she stifled a
qualm at the memory of the near poisoning of her husband, a poisoning that
neither her daughter Nolwenn nor the wise woman Yuna was willing to take
responsibility for. And she asked herself again the question that had haunted
her ever since the incident occurred: did Melisande take advantage of Nolwenn’s
temporary absence to tamper with the healing potion in an attempt to murder her
father-in-law?
Within a week
after Gwenaelle’s birth Melisande had regained her strength and was able to
care for the baby, and Judoc returned to her own hut. She was surprised at the
friction that manifested between Nolwenn and Brand, especially as they had
never quarreled with one another or even exchanged angry words in all of their
young lives. Dirk had taken on a new somberness of spirit she noticed, and cast
some furtive glances at his sister that made his mother slightly uneasy.
What has
happened that I am unaware of, Judoc wondered. These are the children that have
always lived on peaceful terms together. It is Maelys who has always stirred up
discord with her inability to refrain from giving her opinion and advice,
whether it is asked for or not. And she had to admit that Brenus had been no
angel either, always quick to erupt in a fit of temper at any insult real or
imagined, and to challenge the offender accordingly. With those two out of the
picture her home should have been a haven of harmony and a temple of
tranquility.
It was Dirk
who enlightened her one evening after Nolwenn had run over to Melisande’s hut
to stay for the night should the baby need anything, ensuring that her
sister-in-law could rest undisturbed, and Brand had retired to bed.
Judoc did not
hesitate but asked him outright what was wrong between Nolwenn and her
brothers. Nor did he hesitate to enlighten her.
“It is that
evil Melisande,” he stated firmly. “She has done her best to win Nolwenn over
to her side, and now our sister begins to act just like her!”
And Dirk fumed
silently, his face turning red and his breath coming in short gasps. Judoc
waited for him to continue, certain now that his next words would only increase
her anxiety regarding her youngest daughter.
He jerked up
his head abruptly and gave Judoc a look of pure frustration at the behavior of
women.
“Since when
did Nolwenn, our sweet Nolwenn, ever treat anyone with less than courtesy or
respect? Yet last week while you stayed with Melisande, Nolwenn sneered at
Brand when he made an observation about Dominio and the Kingdom that I thought
was actually rather wise for one of his years. But Nolwenn told him he didn’t
know anything, and that no one could prove that Dominio even existed. Is that
like our Nolwenn? No, it isn’t!
“She also
skipped morning prayer with us, telling us she did not need to do that as she
did not believe in that anymore. Tis only since you returned from Melisande’s
that she started joining us again, and that is only with the intention of
hiding her behavior from you, Mother. That is why Brand and I have been
quarreling with her; the little hypocrite, acting one way when you are gone and
another when you are present!”
Judoc groaned
inwardly at this recital. It was what she had always feared, that Nolwenn’s
friendship with Melisande would have a harmful effect on her. And now the fruit
was evident: the mockery of her family’s beliefs, the refusal to participate in
their rites, and even scorning her brother with the same sense of superiority
that Melisande had too often shown to Brenus.
Judoc found
herself wishing once again that Melisande had left Eirinia after the death of
Brenus, or better yet, had never entered their lives in the first place.
Certainly she had never brought anything but pain to the family, and they would
be so much happier if she left and never contacted any of them again. In that
instant she decided to talk to Melisande and advise her to leave Eirinia
altogether.
And yet, how
could she cast the mother of her first grandchild out of the only family she
claimed she had left?
Nolwenn
stomped out of the family hut and flung herself down on the cold ground. She
let out a sigh of frustration and anger and felt her blood boil. One of these days
Dirk would go too far!
She had
returned to the hut last night after making certain that Melisande did not need
her help with little Gwenaelle. Already Nolwenn loved this child and took great
joy in holding her and rocking her to sleep. How the little darling reminded
her of dear Brenus!
That Melisande
was also reminded of him was evident in the look of sorrow that flitted across
her face on occasion when she studied the babe’s face. How Nolwenn wished that
he was here to see his daughter. How cruel that his life had been snuffed out,
so quickly and inexplicably that none knew how it had happened.
Was that when
she had first questioned her faith in Dominio? For surely He could have saved
her brother, so why hadn’t He? Was it because He did not exist after all, as
Melisande had told her after Brenus’ death?
Nolwenn had
given much thought to all of this, and although her father had been healed
after her mother and brother prayed for him when he was poisoned, he was now
missing and with no solution to the mystery of his disappearance. Once again
she found herself asking questions that no one answered.
And now this
morning Dirk had insisted that she confess to their mother her skipping of
prayer during the days that Judoc had spent taking care of Melisande. Nolwenn
had glared at her brother with the look Maelys used to give him that dared him
silently to say one more word. He said it.
“Hypocrite!”
he sputtered in rage.
Outraged,
Nolwenn picked up the roll of bread on her dish and threw it at him as hard as
she could. Of course, he was not injured but her anger was clearly expressed
and Judoc had intervened, telling both of them to apologize and ask forgiveness
of the other. For Nolwenn this had proved too much to bear.
“Apologize?
When he is the one who started it and called me a name? Why should I have to
apologize? I will not do it!”
She ran from
the table before they could stop her and dashed into the woods behind the hut.
Only when she was sure that no one had pursued her did she stop and throw
herself down on the ground. And the tears she had held back burst out of her as
violently as water released from a dam. She cried until she had no tears left,
and lay on the ground spent with rage and exasperation.
Would she
always be too young to voice her opinion, to question what others believed that
she did not? Why did no one listen to her? All she wanted was the freedom to
say what she thought.
Was that
asking too much?
After a while
Nolwenn rose wearily to her feet. She had lain there far too long and her robe was
soaked with the morning dew that had not yet dried on the grass. And she had no
wish to add a chiding for her carelessness on top of the rest of the lecture
she was sure to receive when she returned to the hut.
She grimaced
as she thought of the ire she knew she could expect from Judoc. It was too bad
that Maelys had left: her sister could always be counted on to be the one that
received the brunt of the maternal wrath when occasion warranted it. Then her
lips hardened: she did not miss her sister; she did not miss her at all. In
fact, she hoped that she never came back from wherever she had gone.
A smirk
crossed her pretty face as a thought came unbidden: it would be amusing to find
out exactly where her sister was. Nolwenn glanced around her furtively, and
when she determined no one was near she brought out the pendant which Melisande
had given her in secret. She had consulted it with increasing frequency over
the past few months, and had played a game with the villagers that none was
aware of but herself. Whenever she met with some of her friends and one of them
idly asked a question about something, she sneaked away on a pretext and
secretly consulted the amulet. As soon as it revealed the answer she rejoined
her friends and gave them the answer that they sought as if an afterthought to
the previous topic of conversation.
All marveled
and were amazed, and she quickly gained a reputation for having the ability to
know things that others did not. Such an assumption of power quickly went to
her head and she became puffed up with pride. In some mysterious fashion,
however, the knowledge of this game was kept hidden from her mother and
brothers. Not for the world did Nolwenn wish them to know of her new pastime,
sensing that Judoc would take the amulet from her and demand to know where she
had obtained such a thing.
And if she
knew that Melisande was the one who had given it to her, her fury would be all
the greater, of that she had no doubt!
But what of
Maelys, she wondered idly. What was her sister doing at the moment?
She turned her
attention back to the pendant and gazed into the amulet. Its smoky depths
cleared once again and a picture began to form as the answer she sought rose
vividly before her eyes.
She saw her
sister in a room more splendid than any that she had ever seen. And she was
talking to a young man who was so handsome, that given his godlike looks and
the magnificence of his surroundings Nolwenn was sure he must be a prince.