Back From Chaos

by Yvonne Hertzberger

  After a short, more comfortable silence, Brensa spoke once more.

  “Klast, you have just offered me my heart’s dearest wish, that we should spend our lives together. Yet, I need time to think before I answer. I do not wish to act only for myself. What we decide must also be best for you. To do otherwise would be selfish of me. I have much to think on. It helps to know that we have the blessing of both Lord Gaelen and Liethis. But there is more to consider. I am Lady Marja’s friend, and her child is due in a few moons. I do not wish to leave her alone after she has been so good to me.” She paused again, her face growing anxious. “Do we have some time, do you think? Before we must decide?”

  Klast relaxed, relieved. “Some time, I think, yes. Liethis did not know exactly what is expected of us. We may proceed carefully, I think. If we are so important to Earth, surely She will give us time to sort out what it is She requires from us.”

  “Good. Then I am ready to go back. I need to think. When shall we speak again?”

  “You may send word when you are ready, and I will come to you.” Klast stood, ready to go. When Brensa stood as well, he rolled up the blanket and returned it and the mugs to their cubbyhole behind the stone. He tucked the crock under his arm after he emptied it against the wall. Then, looking back at Brensa to see if she followed, he led the way out of the courtyard.

  When they had reached the small hidden door that led into the main halls, Brensa spoke up once more. “Klast?” He turned, eyebrows cocked in question. “Will you kiss me?”

  Klast started in surprise. This was not what he expected. “Do you not think it best to wait until we know what is to come?”

  Brensa hesitated only for a second. “No. I need to know …” She could not finish, shocked at her own temerity.

  Klast felt suddenly awkward, but in spite of her obvious embarrassment, he could tell this was important to her. After a moment’s hesitation he set the crock on the ground, reached toward her, put one hand awkwardly around her waist and drew her closer, watching her upturned face. Slowly she let him take her hand in his other one. Then he bent to her face and brushed his lips on hers. Brensa kept her eyes closed and held still. He tightened his grip and kissed her again, more firmly, fighting to control the stirring he felt. When he raised his head and loosened his hold, Brensa opened her eyes, smiled tenderly at him and rested her head on his chest. They stood that way for only a moment, until Brensa gently withdrew and raised her head to look at him, suddenly shy.

  “Thank you,” she whispered and stood back, waiting for him to unlock the door. “I will send to you when I am ready to speak with you again.” With that, she slipped through the door and stepped quickly into the hall.

  Klast closed the door behind her. Earth, now she knew! He returned to his sanctuary to think, leaving the crock forgotten on the ground

  ~73~

  SEND FOR MIKOST

  Gaelen knew better than to pry. Marja burned with curiosity, but when they talked about it in their chamber that night, Gaelen convinced her to let it lie. He explained what Liethis had told him. But there was no hurry, and he felt confident the pair would make the best decision. Gaelen firmly believed that Klast and Brensa were meant to at least share a dwelling and that they would be good for each other. Marja was inclined to agree but expressed her misgivings about how Brensa would adapt to living with someone so dour and uncommunicative.

  It relieved Gaelen that Marja had abandoned her belief that Klast could not be trusted. But she told him that she felt Brensa needed affection as well as trust, and she could not see Klast giving that to her. He was too closed, too secretive. So she fretted for her friend but agreed to wait for Brensa to come to her when she felt ready.

  Marja also shared her concerns over what would happen should Brensa decide to leave her position as her lady’s maid. “There are a few young women who could fill the position, but it is not the same. Brensa and I have been close for so long.”

  Gaelen knew it would be lonely for Marja if Brensa left, especially with no one to share her excitement over the impending birth or the care of their new son. At the same time, he agreed that Brensa no longer seemed comfortable with court life.

  “She used to be so carefree. Now she starts at the slightest noise or shadow … mostly with men, but even with groups of women. She has not made friends here.” Marja sighed. “Even you make her nervous. The only person she relaxes with is me, and even then, she has a wariness about her.”

  Gaelen knew Klast well enough to simply wait for word of his decision. Meanwhile, the problem of unmasking Sinnath and bringing him to justice still needed to be resolved. Gaelen understood that even if Klast accepted the position as head of his personal guard, he would need much time away from court. If Klast declined the offer and requested to be completely released from his duties, Gaelen was prepared to do so. Klast had earned the right to be free. But he would be sorely missed.

  It was one of the reasons he sent a message to Argost requesting the transfer for Mikost. That, and the realisation that Marja would need a trusted friend with her when Brensa left, as he knew she probably would. Marja would be overjoyed to be reunited with Nellis. He smiled to himself at the image of Nellis and Marja swapping motherhood stories as they cared for their sons together. He had a moment of concern for their safety on the journey, then decided that such thoughts served no purpose. He could do nothing more to insure their safe arrival. Argost would certainly do all he could to put them into good hands.

  ~74~

  A GIFT

  Movement of men and goods between the demesnes had resumed and soon approached their normal volume. Businessmen and traders alike were anxious to see life return to a profitable state. Many took it on faith that travelling would be safe in wake of the devastation the plague had left. Messengers travelled more frequently, too, carrying information between Catania and Bargia.

  Soon after Argost received Gaelen’s request he learned of a family of traders in salt, linen, jewels and scented oils bound for Bargia. This party was large, composed of an extended family. The head of the family, a certain Corrin, always employed three trained guards. Argost checked their reputation and sent a request to meet with him. Satisfied with what he learned, he offered Corrin a generous sum to see to the safe delivery of Mikost and his wife and child.

  Four days later, Argost watched a delighted Nellis and son, Borless, settle themselves on a narrow two-seater wagon bound for Bargia, their meagre belongings piled behind them. In return for their passage, Mikost agreed to add his skills to those of the guards. Nellis accepted duties looking after the younger children, leaving the other women free to cook and make camp.

  Before they left, Argost called the couple into his meeting room, where Cook waited for them. He watched, smiling behind his hand, as Cook handed Nellis a small scroll of rolled leather. Nellis put it in a pouch at her waist with great care. The letter contained detailed instructions for the making of the honey cakes Marja loved so well.

  Cook could not write, so she had approached Argost. Swearing him very solemnly to secrecy, she had told him what to put down. Cook had never before been persuaded to divulge her recipe, though many had asked, including Marja. That she did so now showed how much Cook missed her lady. The recipe included a letter, also dictated to a smiling Argost, amused by such secrecy between women over such a trifle. In it, Cook told Marja that she must share the recipe with no one and that she and only she must make the cakes with her own hands. It almost made Argost laugh out loud to think that Cook would tell his lord’s lady what to do. But he remembered the way Cook had run out to say goodbye when Gaelen took Marja away. He knew Marja would welcome the letter and understand the love behind it.

  Cook was a widow and childless. She immersed herself in her work and reigned in the kitchen with efficient authority and effusive enthusiasm. Argost had encountered her on several occasions and found her to be cooperative and pleasant. Now, as he was reminded of her devotion to Lady Marja, he looked at
her with fresh eyes. He saw a plump woman who obviously liked to eat as well as to cook. Her skin was still smooth despite her middle years, and her thick brown hair, worn in a severe bun and usually covered with a linen bonnet, was liberally streaked with grey. A handsome woman, he thought. He wondered what she would see if she looked him over. He was well past his prime but still straight backed and strong.

  Argost had immersed himself in service for the last twelve years since his young wife had died giving birth to their first child, a stillborn daughter. His chest still contracted whenever he remembered the pale face of his dying wife, as she whispered goodbye, tears flowing at the news that their daughter had not breathed. Now, as his duties eased and Catania seemed to settle into a routine, he had time to think about what his future might hold. He decided to visit the kitchen more often to find out which way the wind blew. Who knew? Perhaps they might find some comfort together in their old age.

  ~75~

  TO BARGIA

  The party followed the same route Gaelen had taken when he brought his bride home to Bargia. Argost had informed the trader of the dangers from possible thugs using the cave, but Corrin had already known about them. Traders had to make it their business to know and to be prepared.

  This late in summer, the tall pines had left a thick carpet of needles on the path, which dampened the clopping of the horses’ hooves and the squeaking of the wheels on the carts and wagons. The muted sounds lent an air of magic that affected the entire party. Even the children grew less boisterous.

  The sun sent dappled patterns of light dancing though the dimness to the forest floor, and at night only a few stars could be seen through the tree canopy. The air remained still and cool under the trees, and a peaceful calm settled over the travellers. They enjoyed the respite, knowing it would last only a few days.

  On the fifth day they neared the area where Gaelen’s group had been attacked. Nellis watched apprehensively as Corrin sent Mikost and two of the other guards out to scout for trouble. A third was ordered to check the cave.

  Corrin decided to take special precautions based on Argost’s warnings. He found a small bare spot where others had set up camp before. There he gathered his wagons in a circle with the horses tied loosely on the inside. His family also stayed inside the circle, eating a cold meal and ready to jump into action at a moment’s notice. Even the women had long knives to hand and had been trained in their use. Mothers kept children close and hushed them when they cried.

  At dusk, the men returned one by one. Nellis could not contain her relief at seeing Mikost and set upon him with a huge hug.

  The other guards had no attachments, so merely shook their heads, grinning at such a display. They took their places in front of the main wagon to speak with Corrin and get some food. When Mikost joined them, red-faced, he had to put up with some good-natured ribbing.

  The last to return was the man sent to the cave. He reported no evidence of recent occupation or activity. With all reports in, Corrin relaxed and ordered a fire for a hot supper. After dinner some of the men took out flutes and a drum. Women donned colourful shawls, and children followed the adults in weaving patterns about the fire, as they took turns dancing, playing and singing. Even though they revelled well into the night, everyone was up and ready to leave again at dawn, tired but happy.

  In two days they would enter the gate at Bargia, and the bartering would begin. Nellis enjoyed the excited talk among the women about the new baubles they would buy and the sweets they would give the children. Two young, single women giggled about the conquests they would make. Nellis had not shared the company of women much since Marja and Brensa had left. Now she remembered how much she missed it. She had so much she wanted to tell them.

  ~76~

  CONSPIRACIES

  The lone trader, just one of the many that came and went in increasing numbers now that quarantine had been lifted, entered by the north gate. His wares, mostly root vegetables such as fresh carrots, turnips, onions and some edible gourds, lay in the back of his rickety wagon, pulled by a swaybacked nag. They passed inspection without incident.

  Once inside, Ornan led his mare on foot to the trading area and went about his declared business. Only when all his goods had been sold did he seek a room at the Cock and Pheasant, an inn at the edge of the area where Sinnath kept his mistress. There he ordered lamb stew, ale and dark bread from the innkeeper’s wife, Norlain, a narrow-faced, lean woman with suspicious eyes and a strident voice.

  With her customers, her manner was all business. She made it clear that she would brook no rowdy behaviour. Ornan decided she did this mostly to protect her young, comely daughter, also serving clients, from being accosted by lonely men in search of female companionship. The sour looks the daughter sent her mother from time to time made it equally clear that she might have enjoyed some of their advances. He wondered what his chances might be.

  “What can I get ye, sir?” Norlain asked.

  “Lamb stew, please, mistress.”

  Ornan’s request was a code she had been advised to wait for.

  Norlain leaned closer. “Lamb stew is not on the menu this time of year, sir, lambing season being over.” She lowered her voice to a conspiratorial undertone. “Will mutton do?”

  Ornan felt relieved that she appeared to know what was expected of her. If he asked for fowl, instead, she had been told to send her son with a message. The son, a young lad of only eight, would deliver it to an agreed upon address. That was all she knew. That, and the fact that her cooperation paid handsomely.

  “Mutton is not to my taste, mistress. Do ye have any fowl, perchance?”

  Norlain gave him and oily, knowing smile, “Indeed, the roast fowl is very tasty. I will have my son bring it at once.”

  “Very good. And I have a message to be delivered to a certain address. Is the boy of an age to deliver it? There is coin in it for him if he brings back a reply.”

  “Indeed, sir. I will have him take it right off.” She almost bowed but caught herself. Ornan noticed the slip. He hoped she would not give him away.

  When the lad arrived with his meal, Ornan gave him a large silver ring in a small, worn, leather pouch, and advised him to keep it hidden inside his breeches. He made sure the lad knew the address and told him there was a good reward for a swift reply. The boy nodded quickly and ran off.

  The ring was worth a good deal, and Ornan hoped his information that these people could be trusted would prove accurate. The lad could as easily sell the ring as deliver it. The promise of a reward had been an added incentive against that.

  * * *

  Haslin, Norlain’s husband and owner of the inn, looked up from his work to see her sidle into the kitchen. She informed him about their visitor and the errand he had sent their son on. He gave a small, disinterested nod and advised her to return to her work.

  Once alone in the kitchen again, however, he reached far under the table where he had been cutting the remaining roast fowl and found the lump he had hidden there. This lump, no more than a small sac of stale herbs in an ordinary looking leather pouch, had been there for three eightdays. Norlain knew nothing of its existence.

  Haslin, unbeknownst to her, had also had a visitor, one who had heard rumours that the inn served as a meeting place for persons unhappy with Gaelen’s joining to Marja. Haslin had been taken into confidence by the visitor, and knew from the visitor what Norlain was up to.

  She had not informed her husband. Greed and secrecy ran deep with the couple.

  The visitor, who went by the name Bethin, had promised Haslin a generous sum if he would inform him, via the herbs, when a message had been sent. Haslin had readily agreed and had made this his own secret. It gave him a sense of satisfaction to have something on his wife.

  Now, Haslin dispatched his stable hand to the designated spot with the herb bundle. He knew Bethin would not be there, but he had left instructions to place the bundle behind a loose stone in the wall, next to the doo
r. Haslin hoped that Bethin would receive his message and act on it before their visitor left. This was a dangerous, double-edged game he played.

  ~77~

  INDECISION

  Brensa returned to her chambers both highly elated and deeply troubled after her talk with Klast. He had just offered her what she desired most. But she wondered if it could ever be turned into reality, even with his willingness. The kiss had told her what she needed to find out. But it put the offer of living as brother and sister already out of the question. In spite of his awkwardness, and the extreme care he had taken, she had sensed his desire. She could not ask him to spend his life under the same roof and deny him. She would have to find the courage to share his bed or remain in her present position at court. To do otherwise would be unjust, and the tensions it would cause could even cost her his affection. If only she had someone she could talk to. But she had no one. Not even Marja could possibly understand the conflict and fear she felt. She had to solve this problem alone.

  After many tears that left her pillow sodden, she admitted to herself that what she truly wanted was to be properly joined with Klast, to share that life in all the ways it implied, even his bed. The kiss had not only told her that Klast desired her. But she now realized that she wanted his touch and his affection too, in spite of her fear.

  Once the tears had spent themselves, she calmed sufficiently to sort out the important questions. Could she trust Klast enough that she would not panic when he showed he wanted her? Did she have the courage to try? Would Klast proceed slowly enough, have enough patience, so that they could eventually complete their union?

  A thought struck her that made her go cold. Had her body been damaged in such a way that either the coupling or the bearing of children would not be possible? How could she find out? When the panic of that question faded, and she was able to think about it more clearly, an idea came to her. It might provide the answer to at least part of the problem. Marja expected a visit from the midwife next morning. She would ask Marja if she might have the midwife examine her, too, to see if Lotha saw anything that would prevent her from sharing a man’s bed.