Authors: L. M. Roth
Dirk had not
relaxed in his vigil regarding Nolwenn. His younger sister still gave him cause
for concern, and he watched her from the corner of his eye so stealthily that
even she did not see him do so. Although she had been drawn closer to their
mother and Maelys upon the news of their father’s imprisonment, he knew that
she still visited Melisande as often as she could possibly get away from the
family, and he trusted that vixen not at all.
Just last week
Judoc had suggested inviting Melisande and little Gwenaelle to share the
evening meal with them, one that was now shared with their visitors, Kyrene and
Lucius. Because the Adalbart hut was already filled to capacity Judoc had
suggested moving Dirk, Brand, and Lucius into Cort’s empty hut, so that Kyrene
might have the use of their room during her stay. It would have been more
comfortable for their visitors, he thought, to move Kyrene into the hut along
with Maelys and Nolwenn and given Lucius the girls’ room, but Judoc wanted her
daughters under her close supervision as befitted unmarried maidens and
banished the young men and Brand to their brother’s hut instead.
Such an
arrangement also gave Dirk an opportunity to study their guest. Lucius puzzled
him; why had he come to Eirinia? Dirk was fond of his father Marcus Maximus,
but Lucius did not resemble his father except in his appearance. Both had dark
wavy hair and piercing gray eyes that could penetrate with a steely resolve or
radiate warm affection. Upon seeing Lucius for the first time, Dirk better
understood his mother’s description of the young Marcus as looking like a young
god, so handsome had he been. Dirk agreed that Lucius was indeed that with his
perfectly chiseled features and athletic physique, but he could not picture
this elegant young man actually liking Eirinia with its crude huts, primitive
inhabitants, and the coarse fabric of their garments.
Dirk was told
that Lucius had volunteered to escort Maelys and Kyrene safely back to Eirinia
from Lycenium and that was all well and good; but why did he stay on, long
after a reasonable time had come to depart and return home? He had arrived with
them in late October, and now it was December and he still made no move to
leave…
At any other
time Lucius would have agreed with Dirk’s assessment of himself: there would
have been no reason for him to linger in Eirinia, nothing to draw him to the
place. Not even its fabled beauty would have attracted Lucius, for he saw
beauty only in music, art, and great buildings of stone and marble. Nature had
no appeal for him, and the woods and hills of Eirinia that so entranced Kyrene
held only the irritation of slapping insects that rose from the grassy hills
off of his body and sneezing his way through the wild thyme and herbs that grew
so profusely. As for the woods, he was not afraid of the legends of strange
creatures that walked by night; he was more annoyed at the sounds of the
crickets that chirped and the owls that hooted and interrupted his sleep on
their trek through the highlands.
No, it was not
the beauty of Eirinia that attracted him or inspired him to prolong his stay…
They walked by
the stream that evening in the lingering warmth of the sun’s last rays. Maelys
had desired some exercise after working with Judoc in the kitchen most of the
afternoon, and Lucius had hastily volunteered to chaperone her for her own
protection. Such a suggestion would have induced Maelys’ mockery at another
time, but she sensed a rising menace in the village, whether from man or from
the Tuadan she did not know, and she was secretly glad for Lucius’ offer.
The stream
swept by sluggishly, seeming clogged by a burden of brown mud that impeded its
progress. Maelys could have wept, so well did she remember the crystal clarity
of this stream in former days. What was happening to the land, that the once
emerald hills were turned brown, and the streams sullied with mud?
Tears started
to her eyes, and Lucius turned to her in concern.
“What is it,
Maelys?” he asked, wishing that he dared to put an arm around her.
But he had
only known her a couple of months, and such an intimacy was forbidden to show a
young lady who was not one’s betrothed. And Maelys did not appear to show any
interest in him apart from friendship anyway, which did nothing to encourage
him either.
“I am afraid,
Lucius,” she whispered. “I feel a menace brooding, but I know not where it
comes from or how soon it will break. But I feel it.”
She shivered
and wrapped her arms around herself as if for warmth and comfort. For Lucius it
was too much: he placed a hand upon her shoulder and patted it gently. She
glanced at him in surprise and smiled gratefully, but ducked away from his
hand. That it was from modesty and not dislike he knew, but it was no easier to
bear for knowing that.
He knew that
if he had any wisdom he should forget the maid and return to Lycenium. But he
found that his worldly wisdom had deserted him, and his heart compelled him to
stay, hoping for any signs of encouragement from her as a dog waits for spare
crumbs from his master’s table.
And Aunt
Kyrene made no sign of leaving anyway, and he was bound to travel with her to
offer his protection.
He preferred
to concentrate for the moment on addressing Maelys’ concern.
“What is it
that you fear, Maelys? I do not have the gift for such things that my sister
Felicia has, and no doubt if she were here she would share your feeling. But I
do not sense anything, and therefore can not understand why you are afraid.”
He looked at
her helplessly, wanting for her sake to understand, but the spiritual had
always been beyond his understanding, and he was lost.
“There have
been reports lately,” she whispered, “among the villagers that the old
creatures of legend are walking about after nightfall. Little Erwan had a
strange encounter while I was away, one I would find difficult to believe. But
only last night Nolwenn told me that someone in Annick heard strange things
when walking home after a day’s hunting. He said he heard voices, but could see
no one. It made his hair stand on end, and he ran for home so frightened was
he.”
Maelys closed
her eyes and shuddered, and he resisted the impulse to pull her into his arms.
“Where did
Nolwenn get her information from?” he prompted.
There was
something about Nolwenn that made Lucius uncomfortable, although he did not
know what it was. And that sister-in-law of theirs was even worse. He had met
Melisande once, and that once was more than enough as far as he was concerned.
There was a sultriness about her that both attracted and repelled him. She
reminded him of the actresses he had known in Lycenium that he had trifled
with: Melisande had that same air of worldly wisdom and seductive sensuality.
But in contrast to the purity of Maelys it disgusted him and he felt a desire to
escape Melisande’s presence that he might breathe the pure air.
“She was told
by Melisande, who had visited some friends in Annick,” Maelys told him. “And
Melisande is not given to being fanciful, yet she appeared to believe it.”
Lucius
restrained himself from commenting and waited for Maelys to continue.
“Something is
happening, Lucius, and it is escalating. And when it reaches its climax what
will the outcome be?”
It was on an
overcast day in January, when the sky above seemed to mourn in gray silence
over barren trees and hills lightly flecked with the downy white of a rare
snowfall, that Cort returned to Eirinia. The weather could not have matched his
mood more perfectly, he thought in irony. For life seemed gray and bleak as a
winter afternoon that stretches on interminably, tarrying as though to taunt
those who long for the return of spring.
He took Siv
and Brit to his hut, where he was astonished to find his brothers and a
stranger who bore a strong resemblance to his friend Marcus Maximus in the days
of his youth. He was not at all surprised to discover that the stranger was
none other than Marcus’ son, who had journeyed to Eirinia with Maelys and
Kyrene. Upon hearing that Kyrene was visiting, he made haste to his father’s
hut to be reunited with his old friend, whom he had not seen in many years.
He burst into
the hut without even bothering to knock, so eager was he to see their visitor.
“Kyrene! Where
are you, Kyrene?” he exclaimed.
A woman rose
from a chair near his mother. She was tall and still slim, bearing herself with
the grace that he remembered so well. Her hazel eyes were still wide with an
expression of seeing something that others can not see, but her tawny mane of
waves was streaked with white around her hairline, giving her the appearance of
an aging lioness, feeling the years encroach, but who still has the power to
roar.
“Cort! I would
not have known you; you are so tall and handsome!” Kyrene laughed with a
throaty chuckle in the warm velvety voice he had almost forgotten, but now
recalled with delight.
They embraced
and held one another for a moment, for Kyrene had acted as a surrogate mother
to him in the days of their quest long ago. Cort was flooded suddenly with
memories of her tender care of him, from making certain he had enough food to
eat to buying him clothes when he outgrew his own, and realized how precious
this woman was to him.
He made haste
to introduce her to his wife and mother.
“Mother, this
is my old friend, Kyrene. She was like a mother to me when we traveled together
long ago.”
Brit shyly
took Kyrene’s outstretched hand, but true to character, Kyrene vocalized her
own pleasure at meeting Cort’s real mother, fond though she was of Judoc.
“How
delightful it is to meet you! I am so happy that you and Cort are reunited, for
families should be together, and I know how much your son loves you and missed
you,” Kyrene told the older woman.
Brit beamed
under the warmth of the greeting and shot a smile at her son, who now brought
Siv forth to be introduced.
“Kyrene, this
is Siv, my wife whom Dominio sent me back to Trekur Lende to find,” he said
softly with a tender glance at his wife.
Kyrene’s eyes
lit up with a soft glow as she examined the young woman. She appeared to be
pleased beyond reason, Cort thought, but then again, Kyrene had always seen
more than what lay on the surface. He found himself wondering what she was
seeing about his wife that brought the pleased satisfaction to her face.
But the other
characteristic he remembered of Kyrene was that she did not keep people in
suspense for very long. Nor did she now.
“Ah, I am very
pleased to meet you,” she said, nodding her head with the air of one whose
every wish has been gratified.
She looked
from Siv to Cort and smiled and nodded her head once again.
“You are
precisely what this young man needs,” she pronounced.
Then her eyes
narrowed slightly as she peered keenly into Siv’s eyes.
“And you are
precisely what the Kingdom needs at this time, for we shall have need of such
as you,” she said somewhat cryptically.
Both Siv and
Cort waited for her to explain her words, but Kyrene did not offer an
explanation.
It was two
days after Cort’s return that he spoke privately to Kyrene.
It had been difficult,
with so many occupying the two huts in the dead of winter to find a quiet place
where they could talk. Indeed, his return with his family had precipitated a
change in living arrangements: he and Siv and Brit had returned to his hut,
sending his brothers back to the family hut. He asked Kyrene and Lucius to
remain as his guests in his own hut so that he could have more opportunities to
spend with them.
This
arrangement was satisfactory to all concerned, Lucius being slightly
uncomfortable with Dirk’s stealthy but noticeable examination of him. He also
had little to talk about with him, as the Adalbart brothers had never left
Eirinia and knew nothing of the world. Their conversation was limited to agricultural
concerns when not speaking of Dominio and the Kingdom. But Lucius already got
on well with Kyrene and enjoyed conversing with her. Her knowledge and wisdom
had opened his heart, and he looked forward to hearing her speak of prophecy
and the mysteries of Dominio and the laws of the Kingdom.
He was
pleasantly surprised to discover that Cort had been to Lycenium, and loved it
almost as much as Lucius did. Together they discussed the amenities of the city
and shared their own fond memories of it. Cort was also fairly well-traveled,
and had actually seen more of the world than Lucius himself had, and it was a
pleasure to hear tales of the fabled cities and remote lands hidden from the
rest of civilization that he had visited.
As Cort and
Kyrene exchanged memories of their quest of long ago, Lucius listened and
learned more of his father and the respect in which he was held by his old
friends. They spoke also of Felix, and how his wit and intelligence had saved
them on more than one occasion, alternately wiping tears of laughter or
mourning from their eyes as they reminisced about the young man who had been
cut down before his time. And for the first time Lucius felt the loss of such a
man, and understood why his father hated Decimus Hadrianus so much…
Tears pricked
his own eyes as he heard the others tell of how close Marcus and Felix had
been, like brothers whom nothing could part, and he thought of his own
friendship with Antonius and how similar their relationship was. How cruel for
his father to lose such a friend and after losing his parents not long before.
He must have felt truly alone in the world, with no one to call his own except
his wife.
And he
marveled anew at the hand of fate that dealt Marcus Maximus the blow of giving
the son of Decimus Hadrianus to be his son-in-law.
The weather
had turned milder as January sometimes does, with a thaw that produced a light
fog, so Cort and Kyrene decided to take a walk in the woods near the village.
The trees were bare of the snowfall of two days before, and here and there the
branches paid host to hardy little birds who had not flown south for the
winter, a winter that was usually mild in the temperate climate. Occasionally a
screech rose up from the tries as the birds flew in one mass into the air, only
to settle down in the treetops once more.
When they had
determined that no one had followed them and they could not be heard Kyrene
began without preamble.
“I have met
Melisande,” she stated.
She waited to
hear his response; it was vital that she hear his true feelings about the young
woman before she gave him the news she had to disclose.
“Hmpf! Quite
an experience, I am sure,” Cort huffed.
He had tensed
immediately at the mention of the young woman’s name, a fact which Kyrene noted
with displeasure.
“She is your
sister-in-law, Cort, and therefore is entitled to your respect,” she warned in
a voice he had never heard before.
Indeed, it was
so stern that he turned to her with a sense of shock.
“Kyrene? What
is the matter?” he asked in genuine bewilderment.
“You have been
unkind to her, Cort,” Kyrene pronounced, a note of authority in her voice that
was new to him.
“Unkind? She
tricked my brother into marriage without revealing anything of her history, and
tried to kill Dag! Why should I be kind to her?” he questioned in all
sincerity, certain he was in the right.
“That does not
give you the right to be cruel, Cort. Have you forgotten what Xenon told us to
beware of: it is
not
flesh and blood that is our enemy, but those who
are deceived by the Astra? And Melisande is indeed deceived by the Astra, so
much so that I begin to wonder whether one of them hides within her, so great
is her propensity for evil. But remember, Cort, she has been deeply wounded by
the loss of her mother, and is convinced that Dag was to blame. I spoke to her
and told her what really happened; she listened as though hearing this for the
first time. And she told me that she could listen to me because I did not judge
her as you did.”
He was
startled to realize that his old friend had grown indeed to speak to him in
such a manner. It was with surprise that he remembered suddenly that she had
been a mere girl when he knew her, and now had reached the pinnacle of her
gifting. He found himself scrambling to justify his behavior.
“But she is
evil, Kyrene! If you only knew what she has put my family through you would
understand…”
Kyrene cut off
the flow of words.
“Cort! There
is nothing to understand except this: did you deserve the mercy that Dominio
gave you in sending His Son to take your place for treason? Did you deserve the
mercy that Dag showed you in forgiving you after you lied to him, hiding your
identity so that he did not fulfill his vow to his kin and kill you? And did
you not hide
your
family background from Dag even as Melisande hid
hers?”
Cort squirmed
under her words; he knew she was right, but his dislike and mistrust of
Melisande was engrained in him. Still, it was true that he would be held
accountable for the way he treated others; that he well knew.
“No,” he said
reluctantly, shaking his head slowly for emphasis. “I did not deserve such
mercy.”
“None do! But
Dominio is merciful, and even though you can not like Melisande you must still
treat her with courtesy and the respect due a sister-in-law. Remember that she
is to be pitied, as she is bound up by her own bitterness and will never know
happiness until she forgives Dag and lets go of the past. That is the key to
her release, but I do not know whether she will ever find it.”
Kyrene sighed
and looked wistfully at the tree line ahead of them. They were in the woods but
had reached a small clearing. About a half a mile ahead of them the trees
clustered together as if sharing secrets about their visitors, not a thought
that brought comfort when considering the history of this land and its reputation
for strange creatures that inhabited the trees and the hills.
Abruptly she
looked away from the trees and back to Cort.
“However, I
have other news to share with you regarding Melisande,” she said briefly. “But
first, allow me to ask you a question: where did she spend the first month of
her stay in Eirinia? And where did she live when Brenus was courting her before
the family met her?”
She was
astonished at the reaction of her young friend. Cort’s breath left his lungs in
an explosive gasp that seemed loud in the quiet of the woods.
“I have
wondered on that myself, especially after meeting with Pascal and Gaelle in
Gaudereaux,” he said eagerly.
“You have seen
Pascal and Gaelle?”
“Yes, I have
only recently come from there.”
And Cort
hastened to fill Kyrene in on the details of his meeting with the grandparents
of Melisande.
“And Gaelle
said that Melisande left for Eirinia much sooner than I had thought, and I have
wondered where she spent that month that is unaccounted for. Do you mean to
tell me that you know?”
Kyrene nodded
her head slowly and looked Cort steadily in the eye.
“I do indeed;
I know exactly where she spent that month, and
how
she spent it.”
“Where? Do not
keep me in suspense, for I feel it is of vital importance to know what her movements
were.”
Kyrene laughed
slightly but with a twist of her lips, Cort noted.
“Before she
met Brenus Melisande spent a month in the village of Annick, where she lived
with Enora, and learned the history of the Adalbarts, Eirinia and its legends
and the old ways of the gods and goddesses, and displayed quite a curiosity
regarding sorcery, a gift for which she exhibited quite a talent.”