Altered Destinies- Earth Reborn

by Yvonne Hertzberger

  Kort did not press her but the expression on his face made it clear he believed not a word. He turned his attention back to the liniment he was preparing. “I wonder when we can expect Nurias. She has offered to take me to some of her patients. I am eager to learn more about that part of this work.”

  Nurias. What would her reaction be? Nurias knew how Phaera felt, had heard her fear of dying in childbirth. Whose side would she take? Had Bain gone to her with his tale? He was her son. Would she side with him?

  Phaera shook herself. “Yes, I hope she will ask for you soon.”

  Kort filled a small clay jar with the finished liniment, pressed the cork into the top, and wiped his hands on the cloth on the table. “Milady, it begins to grow dark. It is time to go in for dinner.”

  Phaera looked out the open door, allowing that information to register. “Yes, let us go.”

  She ignored the long look Kort gave her and headed out the door.

  Bain had not returned as she dressed for dinner. Nor did he join them at the table. With each hour Phaera grew more miserable, more apprehensive.

  When she returned to her chamber and prepared for bed Bain still had not returned. Where could he have gone? By now she was certain he would not return with an apology. He was still furious with her. She tossed and turned most of the night, sleeping in short fits accompanied by lurid dreams of everyone turning against her, calling her traitor.

  As dawn brought the early light into her chamber she dressed and opened the door to Bain’s adjoining one, the one he never used as he always slept with her in her bed. It was empty. The bed had not been disturbed. She stared at it in abject misery. Was he so angry that he could not even bear to be near her?

  At the morning meal she asked Lord Makin if there had been some duty that had taken Bain away. Lord Makin gave her a quizzical look, shook his head, and suggested, “No doubt he is attending to some matter that needs his presence.”

  Phaera was grateful that he did not press her as to why she did not know where Bain was. How would she have answered him? Telling him what had happened was out of the question. He, of all people, would not have understood.

  Her only hope was Nurias. Could she go to her, explain, and hope she would find some support there? If so, Nurias might help Bain understand. If not, she did not know what she would do. Perhaps she would be sent back to Kinterron in disgrace. Perhaps Bain would set her aside and find another woman who would provide him with his heir. At last, tears broke through the desolation she felt. She sank into her chair and wept. Was this what she would come to?

  When she had no more tears left she splashed water on her face, put on her riding gown and strode to the stables. She hoped her face would no longer betray her by the time she reached them. She sought out the stable master and ordered her horse saddled.

  “Will you be riding alone, Milady? And will you be long?”

  Under normal circumstances she would have answered civilly, understanding that he was merely doing his duty and showing care for her welfare. Today her answer was curt. “Yes, I will ride alone and I know not when I shall return.”

  The man’s eyebrows shot up for a second, then he hurried away to get her horse. When he brought the mare and held her still as she climbed up he ventured, “If asked, Milady, where may I say you have gone?”

  Her first impulse was to tell him it was none of his concern, but she caught herself. “I have business with Nurias and have gone to see her.”

  The stable master lost some of his wariness, relieved. “Thank you, Milady.”

  He handed her the reins and stepped out of the way.

  Chapter Forty-One

  TO NURIAS

  Bain’s fury had not abated on the ride to see his mother. He had remained lost in thoughts of betrayal, anger – and yes, hurt.

  His mount, familiar with the route, had needed no guidance. Once turned in the direction of Nurias’ cottage Bain had given him his head. It left him free to simmer in his own dark mood. She knows how important this is. Lady Flor could not give Father an heir. That is why he chose to make me his heir. Now it is my duty to produce a legitimate one. She knows this. How could she try to prevent it? How could she hide it from me? Did she think my blind love for her would excuse it? Does she believe she can do no wrong in my eyes; that I will forgive anything? Does my reputation mean nothing to her? After all I have done to make her happy, things that no woman in her position has ever been able to do – her work, her apothecary. Am I merely a pawn? No! I cannot let this go. How could she? She has betrayed me. I trusted her.

  Bain’s mind circled in a loop that offered no way out. And with each repetition his rage and hurt grew, though he refused to acknowledge the hurt and fueled the rage to avoid it.

  When his mother’s cottage came into view the day had passed unnoticed. Now, with his early home in sight, he realized that he had eaten nothing and it was now late afternoon. His stomach distracted him from his gloomy litany with a loud growl.

  Nurias had spotted him as he approached and came to greet him. “Bread has just come from the oven. Come.” She still held the dark fragrant loaf on a wooden board and used it to gesture toward the door.

  When Bain sputtered about needing to talk she gave him a knowing smile and said, “It can wait until you have a full stomach.”

  The choice of chamomile for the tea had been hers. After a quiet meal Nurias led him outside to sit in the warm sun where he related his tale of betrayal.

  “Discuss it? How could I. She was drinking the stuff before I returned. And she did not ask me, or tell me she was doing so.”

  “Hmmm. You misunderstand me. Have you and Phaera discussed when you both would like to have children, what is the immediate future you would like to see?”

  “Why? We both have a duty to produce my heir.” Bain knew his mother always had a reason for any question she asked but this time he did not want to follow her lead. “What can there be to discuss?”

  “How old are you?”

  Bain bristled. “You know I am twenty.”

  “Indeed. And how old is Phaera?”

  Finding no easy retort come to mind Bain finally answered. “Eighteen. Why?”

  Nurias looked out into the distance, her voice so low Bain had to strain to make it out. “And how many years do you think Phaera has before she can no longer produce a child?”

  Bain had no answer for that. The only thing he could muster was a feeble, “But she betrayed me.”

  When Nurias remained silent Bain became annoyed with her. She is doing it again. Her mother talk.

  But the “mother talk” was doing its work, making him stop to think, to question himself, to look beyond his rage.

  The sun had sunk lower bringing a chill to their bench which now sat in shade. Nurias rose. “Come. Bring some wood in for the hearth and start a fire. I will make some warm milk and honey. It is too late to return to the castle. Your cot is ready, as always.”

  Bain stood and watched her back disappear into the cottage. The talk was over. It had been years since he had had this kind of conversation with his mother. It had not often been necessary. So he took a steadying breath and decided pursuing this further tonight was unwise. He knew from experience it would accomplish nothing. He could almost hear her words from the past. “We can talk again when you have had time to calm yourself and think more clearly.” Resigned, Bain filled his arms with wood and followed Nurias into the cottage.

  They spent a companionable evening, saying little. Bain watched his mother go about her homely bustle. The familiar routine and the warm milk had their desired effect. His rage seeped out slowly to a manageable level. Unfortunately that also allowed his hurt to surface. He felt desolate. By now the sun had disappeared. The only light came from the fire in the hearth and the candle Nurias handed him that would light his way into the low loft where he would find his bed.

  “It is time to sleep, Son.” She took his face in her hands and kissed his forehead, as she had done ever since
he could remember. “Good night.”

  He pulled himself out of the chair with effort, his limbs heavy and movements slow. “Goodnight, Mama,” and made his way up the ladder to his cot. But will I sleep? For a moment he wondered if his mother had added valerian to his tea, then shook his head with an inward smile at his foolishness. Had she done so he could not have missed the horrid smell and taste. He must just be weary indeed.

  When Nurias still did not bring the subject up as she served him porridge and eggs the next morning Bain knew he had to be the one to speak first.

  “You are right, Mama, that I must speak with Phaera. But now that this has passed between us I know not what to say. She ought to have told me about the tea, to have asked me what I thought of it.”

  “Perhaps. But you said it was in plain sight. Is it possible she expected you to know?”

  “I do not know.”

  “Then, perhaps, that is where the discussion may start.” Nurias turned to face Bain, leaning back against the table, hands folded in front of her apron. Bain thought she hesitated, as though wondering whether to say more. He waited, as he had learned to do when she was thinking. She did not keep him waiting long.

  “You know the circumstances of Phaera’s mother’s death, that she died in childbirth and that the babe was also stillborn, do you not?”

  “Yes, it is well known.”

  “Think. How old was she when this happened?”

  Bain furrowed his brow. The question was simple enough so why did she ask it in that way? “Very young, I think, perhaps seven years only.”

  “Yes. And she was at the bedside as her mother took her last breaths. Now think carefully. What effect do you think such an early trauma might have on a young girl?” Her voice had taken on a tone of admonishment. “Remember that when you speak with her. I can say no more without breaking trust.”

  Bain felt the sting of her warning. He thought about what Nurias said and finally ventured, “She told me that it was her mother’s death that prompted her wish to become a healer.”

  “True.” Nurias had turned back to the kettle and replaced it on the hook with the one she used to make tea. She smiled over her shoulder at him as if this were the most ordinary conversation in the world. “Sage, this time, I think?”

  Bain simply nodded. He had more important things to think about, not the least of which was how to open a conversation with Phaera after he had acted so rashly. He had made assumptions. Those needed to be acknowledged. And he had to listen, so that Phaera would trust him. Would she explain why she had not been more open with him? Had she always felt he would not understand?

  When he finished his tea he knew he could delay no longer. “Mama, will you pack me some bread and cheese. I must go back and it grows late already.”

  Nurias raised an eyebrow at him. “Have you already forgotten how to do that yourself?” She smiled and reached for the cheese.

  The smile took the sting out of her words. Bain sent her a rueful grin back. “It seems I am getting too used to being waited on.” He took a knife out of its groove on the wall and pulled the bread towards himself.

  With a low chuckle Nurias reassured him. “I will never allow that as long as you are in my presence.”

  “I hope not. I count on it.”

  Bundle in hand he led the way out of the cottage and to his horse. He put the food into the small saddlebag and turned to embrace his mother. “Goodbye, Mama. I am grateful, as always, for your wisdom.”

  “All will be well. But you must remember that lasting love can only grow where there is trust.”

  Chapter Forty-Two

  PHAERA’S TERROR

  It was late afternoon when Phaera spotted the smoke from Nurias chimney and urged her mare into a faster trot. Thank goodness she is at home.

  Remembering that Nurias was already aware of her terror of childbirth had calmed Phaera somewhat. She believed that, at the very least, Nurias would listen, even if she did not approve of her actions. What if Bain is there? What if he has already told her what happened? Even so, Phaera trusted that Nurias would also wish to hear her side.

  She rode up to the cottage just as Nurias had come out to see to her own horse before retiring. She looked up and waved when she recognized Phaera, and waited for her to ride up.

  “My dear, it is good to see you. Welcome. Have you eaten?”

  The answering growl from Phaera’s stomach made her laugh. “Oh, I see. Well we must remedy that.”

  Phaera could not help but smile in return. The comical exchange helped to ease her anxiety.

  Nurias insisted that she eat and finish her meal before speaking about why she had come. The food, the tea, and the warmth from the hearth added some distance to her distress. Somehow her situation no longer seemed so dire. This is what makes her so successful as a healer.

  Once the few dishes had been cleaned and put back onto their shelf Nurias set her chair opposite Phaera’s and folded her hands in her lap, her ‘listening’ posture.

  “Before you begin I must tell you that I know what caused you to seek me out. Bain has already been here. He left earlier today. You must have missed each other. Just as well, I think.” She sent Phaera an encouraging smile. “Now, how can I help you?”

  Phaera blurted out the only thing that came to mind in that instant. “I am not ready.”

  “You do not feel ready to bear a child.”

  “No.”

  “Can you explain?”

  “I need time to set up my apothecary and people need time to trust me and come to me. I need time for them, especially those at the castle, and Lord Makin and Lady Flor, to see me for who I am. I am not like other lords’ wives. I cannot be content with only that role. They need to accept that.” Phaera’s voice had risen and become more plaintive as she spoke. “I cannot have a child yet. I cannot.”

  “You think no one will accept that – even Bain.”

  “No. It has been made plain that my duty is to provide an heir. It seems that is all I am good for.” Phaera leaned forward, rigid, fists clenched in her lap.

  “There is more, I think … more that makes this problem so important.”

  Phaera deflated, letting her body sag into the back of the chair. Yes, there it is. I am found out. I am a coward.

  Her excuses all gone, she could no longer hold onto any show of strength. Tears began to flow freely. She did not try to hide them behind her eyes, or her hands. There was no point. She lifted her head, and opened her silent misery to Nurias. At last she ventured, “I am so afraid. I do not want to die. I need some time before I die.”

  Nurias rose from her chair and knelt beside Phaera, taking one limp hand in her two.

  “I know child. But how much time do you think you need before you no longer need more time?”

  Phaera broke down. Huge sobs wracked her body. Nurias said nothing but wrapped her arms around her and drew her close as she wept.

  When the sobs had run their course and began to subside she whispered to Phaera, “This is the fear of a young girl who watched her mother die. You know, Child, from your own work, that it is highly unlikely to be your fate.” She stroked Phaera’s back and drew back a little so she could see Phaera’s face.

  “Are you brave enough to look at that with me? I am here. I will not shame you. I understand where that fear comes from.”

  “How will that change anything?”

  “We will go back to that day – together. You will not see it alone. We will look at every small piece that frightened you, and we will face them together. I will be with you.”

  A fresh spate of tears wet Phaera’s face as she clung to Nurias and tried to bury her head into her shoulder. That made her realize how uncomfortable Nurias must be. She managed to collect herself enough to say, “Forgive me. Perhaps we can sit on the bed together.”

  Nurias nodded and rose to move to the bed, not letting go of Phaera’s hand. She sat on her cot and drew Phaera over beside her, placing an arm firmly around her.r />
  “See how strong you are. Even in your worst moment you can muster compassion for another. You can conquer this fear, Phaera. I will help, and I daresay Bain will as well.”

  They explored every aspect of Phaera’s phobia, every small thought that popped into her mind as they talked. A few hours and several mugs of tea later Phaera was spent. She had no more tears, no more objections or ideas, nothing left to drag into view. She was left with only a deep, lethargic calm.

  “You may sleep in Bain’s bed tonight.” Nurias indicated the ladder to the loft. “I think you will have no trouble sleeping.” She gave Phaera a quick hug. “Good night.”

  “Good night … and thank you.”

  Nurias was right. Phaera fell asleep almost as soon as she lay her head down and woke only when she heard Nurias rustling about below her.

  “Good morning sleepy head.” Nurias’ warm smile and cheerful tone was contagious and Phaera found herself smiling back. “What smells so good?”

  “The hens laid eggs. I’ve mixed them with some stale bread, milk, and honey in the skillet, along with some raisins. I call it bread pudding. It was always a favourite of Bain’s.”

  Phaera sniffed the skillet as Nurias moved it to the table. “Mmmm. Perhaps I shall pass this on to Velna at the castle.”

  “I am sure Bain would not think of that. It will be a welcome surprise to him.”

  Phaera found she had a good appetite. “I can see why Bain likes it. This is delicious.” She poured herself another mug of the bitter chicory root brew. “And the bitterness of this sets it off. I had no idea you were a good cook as well as a healer.”

  They both looked up at the sound of a horse approaching.

  Chapter Forty-Three

  THE TALK

  When Bain returned to the castle darkness had already begun to fall. The stable master met him to take his horse, looking as though he had been preparing to retire, pulling a clean tunic over his head as he hurried over, hair spiky and wet and hands still wet from washing.