Serafina's Flame
Page 1
DEDICATION
To women all over the world. You are stronger than you know.
Copyright © 2017 J.C. Hart
All rights reserved.
ISBN:978-0-473-38766-2
Carmel
1
Carmel walked down the central aisle of the church towards her dying son. The thick blue carpet beneath her feet was soft like grass. She wanted to sink into it, to lie down and avoid what lay ahead on the polished stone floor by the altar. This couldn't be real. It wasn’t meant to end like this. She'd fought so hard to keep him safe for all those years and now...
She kept moving, passing her baby grandson to the priestess, Iraja, as she got close and dropped to her knees beside Landon.
He reached for her hands, grimacing as he did.
"My boy," Carmel said, her breath stirring his pale blond hair. "Can you speak?"
He nodded in response, licked his lips and opened them. A thin rasp came out, she leaned down until they were nose to nose, forehead to forehead.
"Tell me about the flames, Mother." His voice was a whisper. "Tell me the story of what happens when the dead are burned."
Carmel's chest jerked as though all the air had been sucked from her lungs. She glanced around, but the priestess paced the aisle with Romane, leaving her alone with Landon.
"We're not meant to—"
"I want to hear it, one more time. I wish…"
"Shh, shh. I'll tell you." She pressed a kiss to his forehead and checked that Iraja was still out of earshot.
A shiver began in Carmel's body. She hadn't spoken of the flames in years. Hadn't told him this story since he was a little boy and they were newly arrived in the city of their captors. To tell these tales would bring down the wrath of the All Mother; Carmel had never met that goddess in the flesh, but her eyes peered down at them from every window in this room.
She watched the dust motes dance as she opened her mouth and began.
"When I was a girl and we were beholden to none, back in the days when the sky stretched forever in all directions and there were no great stone walls to protect us from the wilds, we used to worship the flames. Not just any flames, mind you, but those from the sacred mountain, from the goddess Serafina."
She took a breath, closed her eyes and tried to bring that most sacred place to mind. She could vividly remember being a child and standing in the goddess' presence, the living flame that encased Serafina radiating warmth rather than searing heat. The image faded as the chill of the stone floor seeped through her light woolen pants making her aged knees ache. She shifted her weight and continued.
"Serafina was our protector, our guardian, in life and in death. When one among us was called back to her, those closest to the dead would take the body and burn it in a sacred rite. Each particle of their body would be taken in by Serafina, consumed, subsumed, so that they became a part of her and a part of the flames, never to be forgotten." She opened her eyes to see that his were fluttering closed. She ran a hand down his face, her skin dark on his. Pale like the moon, he had always shone for her. Tears welled up as she watched the slow rise and fall of his chest.
"Those that Serafina took in were never lost. They danced in the flames eternally so we could call upon their wisdom and know them, even in death." She let out a sob as he looked up at her, knowing it would be the last time their eyes met. His lips moved as if he were asking something. She knew what it was.
"Of course." She nodded, gripping his hands as tightly as she could and pressed her face against his, cheek to cheek. "I will take you to the flames."
The sudden chill against her skin told her that Landon was gone. She lay there until the screech of Romane's cries breached her grief. Carmel wiped the tears from her eyes and stood, brushing death off on her skirts. The boy stopped crying the moment she placed him against her body. His small chin dug into her shoulder, a comfort, rather than a pain.
"He's dead." Carmel looked Iraja in the eyes. "We'll want the bodies returned to the home tonight so that the family can say their goodbyes."
"We will organize it for you," Iraja said with a nod. "And then you'll have the service here in true Asakan style."
"Of course." The words tasted bitter. She glanced at the stained-glass image of the All Mother, waiting for the lie to become apparent. Landon's wife Miri would return, but not Landon. No. Carmel would take him to the mountain and he would burn. Burn so he would never be lost. She gave the priestess a short nod and then headed for the door, patting Romane's back gently as she walked.
"We’ve got to go home and get ready, my darling. We have long days ahead."
2
The sound of the door opening and closing downstairs forced Carmel from her mental cataloging of supplies. She pushed her makeshift stretcher under the bed before locking her room and heading downstairs.
Miri's mother, Mahari, swept into the house with her purple silk mourning garments flowing behind her. Carmel could feel displeasure seeping out of the woman.
"I hope you've enough food for this, and of good quality." The other woman wrinkled her pale, pretty nose, as if simply being in the presence of a Nivaen was offensive. How she had tolerated Landon, Carmel would never know. He had looked more Asakan than Nivaen, but that hadn’t changed his heritage.
"I've done my very best, Mahari. You could have come and helped if you didn't trust me with the preparations." Carmel ducked her head, knowing her words were harsher than she had a right to deliver. It wasn't just her child dead.
"You've lived among us for long enough to know what's acceptable." Mahari exhaled noisily and sat in the chair of honor. "How many are we expecting?"
"I don't know." Carmel shrugged. "How can one ever know? It depends how nosy folk decide to be."
Mahari huffed, but Carmel knew the other woman had to be thinking the same thing. Death in youth didn't occur every day and no one would breach custom to speak of why they were called home to the All Mother so young. Some would want to view the bodies, just to see if they could figure out what had happened. She wasn't going to give anyone the chance. Carmel had already wrapped them, Miri in traditional Asakan purple, and Landon with Serafina's red against his skin and the purple above that. Only their faces were visible. Let them gossip; they would anyway.
Carmel excused herself to put Romane to bed as soon as the visitors began to trickle in. The solitude of her room was a blessing when compared to the clatter in the living area. Miri's family had invaded every space on the main floor, even those who would never ordinarily visit.
She had laid Romane down on the bed when she heard a soft knock. Carmel crossed and opened the door a crack, frowning when she saw the All Mother's priestess standing in the hallway.
"Can I speak with you?" Iraja asked as she placed her hand against the door and pressed lightly.
Carmel stepped back, bowing her head in acquiescence. "Is there something wrong? I thought I had done everything right."
"Faultless. The years you've spent among us have meant you followed the arrangements to the letter. More than my regulars at church." She gave Carmel a wink, then all the amusement vanished from her face. "I know how difficult it must be for you. This is your first loss since coming to live with us." Iraja cocked her head and pursed her lips before speaking again. "It's hard to integrate into a new culture, and I'm aware that ours is different to the one you were raised in. I just… I would hope we've treated you kindly enough to prevent you from going against the law and doing something you might later regret."
"I don't understand." A frown creased Carmel's brow, and she fought to keep her breathing regular. How could the priestess know? Carmel's hands reached to the rough wool of her formal skirt and she rubbed the coarse weave through her fingers to calm herself.
"I… No. The only savior is the All Mother. I know that now." Carmel ducked her head and hoped Iraja hadn't caught the deceit in her eyes. "Serafina forsook us when she let your people burn our villages to the ground." The words tumbled out of her mouth, and tears formed, racing down her cheeks as though they could wash the sentiment away. For many years she had believed that to be the truth, but now that Landon was dead…
She looked up at Iraja and brushed the tears away. "Is it really so sinful to wish for the past? No one should outlive their children. No one."
Iraja touched a hand to Carmel's hair and spoke a quick blessing before kissing her forehead lightly in the sign of forgiveness. "We are deeply sorry for your loss. Landon was a good man, a kind man, and he will be sorely missed."
"Thank you," Carmel said, her voice a whisper. She ducked her head again, waiting for the other woman to leave.
Iraja was probably only as old as Landon. Probably didn't remember anything other than life in this city which had sprung from the ruins of the Nivaen's largest town. Not that it was a terrible place now, but it wasn't home. The ache for the wilds and the mountain overwhelmed her and more tears began to flow. She pushed the door shut behind the priestess, keeping her sobs quiet, and sank to the floor, burying her head in her hands and letting her hair block out the world around her.
3
Mahari was still lurking when Carmel went back downstairs. She'd not lifted a finger to clear away any of the mess, nor had anyone else, unsurprisingly. Carmel began to stack plates and carry the dirty dishes back into the kitchen.
"What are your plans now?" Mahari asked, leaning against one of the cluttered benches.
Carmel turned to face her, a frown creasing her brow. Had Mahari guessed at her plans? "I'm not sure I understand your question."
"Well you can't stay here. Can you?"
"I…" Carmel closed her mouth, licked her lips and swallowed. "Are you going to want to take Romane in?" Her heart sped up as she anticipated the other woman's response. Would she have a change of heart about her grandson, now that Miri was dead?
"I think it's best for everyone if you look after him. He should be with his own kind, don't you think?" Mahari quirked an eyebrow and her insult burrowed below Carmel's sadness to ignite the anger that had been pooling in her belly all day.
"Just because he's a little darker than you? Because his father was part Nivaen, you'd make your only grandson homeless?" Carmel let out a snort. "Miri would be disgusted."
"It is not my fault that she fell in love with a half-caste," Mahari spat back. "You are only lucky she was kind enough to let you stay with them, because there is no way I'd let you live under my roof."
"Get out," Carmel said quietly, turning back to the dishes. "Get out, now. I've got no time for you." She focused intently on scraping the food from each plate, but she still heard the click of the front door as Mahari left. She laid the plates on the bench and locked the door before heading upstairs for the stretcher. She didn't want to be here longer than she had to.
Landon's body was stiff and heavy as she positioned him on the stretcher. His feet stuck over the bottom of it, and she had to strap his arms across his body so they wouldn't drag on the ground, but there was nothing else she could do. She couldn't help but think he was uncomfortable, even when logically she knew he felt nothing.
Carmel slumped forward, resting her head against the cover. "I'm sorry, Landon. I'm so sorry. I know I couldn't have saved you from this. I just wish there was a better way. I’ll do what I must. I know you wouldn't hold it against me."
Looking at Landon, his shape obscured by the woven wrap, she struggled to imagine that he would go to this effort for her. Perhaps, as much as it hurt, it was better this way. At least she would see the flames again before she died and know for sure whether Serafina truly had forsaken them.
By the time she had finished packing her bag, Romane had woken. She filled his bottle and sang old songs to him as he drank. At just six months old, he was more aware than she remembered Landon being. But, if she was honest, she had paid her son little attention in those early days, his pale skin a constant reminder of when an Asakan warrior had found her in the woods and taken her virtue.
She focused on Romane, letting his blue eyes drown out those thoughts.
"You're the only thing that matters now, my darling. We'll go to the flames and take your Daddy with us. We'll set him alight, you and I, and call him back. You will never be without a father, not like my son."
Romane gurgled and gave her a little smile which she couldn't help but return.
"Come on," she said. "We might as well set out. There's no one here to stand in our way." She held him aloft for a minute, marveling at his small limbs and the way he seemed drawn toward her. She nestled him safely in the sling against her chest before lifting her pack. Her muscles pulled already; how she would drag Landon to the mountain, she didn't know. But if she made it there, perhaps Serafina would look kindly on her and the trouble she had gone to.
She stopped at the doorway to Miri and Landon's room and after a moment went in, retrieving one of her daughter-in-law's favorite scarves, and tucked it against Romane's tummy.
"Just in case you miss her smell, my darling. It's okay to keep a token, a reminder." She kissed his forehead and made her way downstairs.
She didn't pause to think, just took up the ropes of the stretcher and left.
The lanterns on the street corners were just being lit as daylight began to fade. No one looked at her as she walked, though the streets were virtually bare and she was an oddity, an old lady dragging a stretcher, with a baby strapped to her chest. Still, she was Nivaen, and as such she was virtually invisible. Carmel had to laugh to herself. How silly to think this would be difficult. Silly to think she could do anything to draw attention to herself when they were all so busy pretending she wasn't there.
As she moved out of the residential area, the remains of the town that once stood here became more apparent. Neither time nor the Asakans had managed to wipe the Nivaen architecture out entirely, and here, at the edges of new civilization, ruined buildings blended with raw rock, and tree trunks pushed up through the earth, reclaiming the Nivaen space as their own.
"Wait!" a voice called.
Carmel looked back. "You can't stop me, Iraja," she said to the priestess.
"I'm not going to. I just want you to leave Romane. He shouldn't be out there. It's not safe."
"Safer with me than with those who refuse to uphold our beliefs. Safer with me than those who would avoid him, ignore him, because of his heritage." Unconsciously, she wrapped her arms around Romane's small form.
"Give him to me." The priestess neared her and reached for the baby. "My sister, Shari, she can look after him. She still has milk."
"No." Carmel shook her head and stepped back, the stretcher tugging at her, but Iraja had anticipated her move and grabbed her arm.
Without thinking, Carmel reached for her blade with her spare hand and brought it to Iraja's thigh, pressing it against her artery. "Let me go, or I will bleed you out. Never threaten a grandmother." Her breath came in heaves as she whispered the words.
The priestess released her, eyes wide, and Carmel turned and walked away, not stopping to look behind her.
"You can't come back, Carmel," Iraja shouted after her. "You've made your choice and you will pay for it."
She was right, but it didn't matter. Whatever the cost, Carmel would make it to the mountain and she would burn her dead.
***
It took her a whole hour to reach the bridge that spanned the river Theiry. Its multi-colored stones looked wet in the moonlight, though it hadn't rained in days. She stopped at the beginning of its gentle curve and looked back, not sure what she might find, but knowing it would be her last chance t
o enjoy the soft glow of the city.
A pang of regret sliced through her. She bit her lip, shaking the feeling away. It might have been her home for the last twenty or so years, but it had seldom provided comfort. She'd come here in chains and she was leaving… What was she now? No longer a captive, but not really free, beholden as she was to the promise she'd made to Landon.
Except this was a task she had gratefully accepted, one that had returned to her a sense of purpose, even if it wavered when she glanced back.
Because it hadn't been all bad. Landon had been there. Most of her memories of him were within the walls of Theiry, and after today she would never see the places where he had been alive again.
Carmel felt hot tears slide down her face and wiped them away with chilled fingers. It was time to keep moving, not to stand and mourn. There would be time for that later.
She took up the weight of the stretcher and stepped forward onto the bridge proper, not letting herself pause until she'd made it all the way across to the other side.
4
Carmel didn't get far before a soft shower of rain encroached, making the night sky even darker. She pulled the extra fabric of Romane's sling up and tucked it close, hoping to keep most of the damp off. He was finally sleeping, though she had a way to go before she could do the same.
There was a spot she remembered from before, the last place she had felt safe, until they'd caught her and Landon and dragged them to the city. It couldn't be too far, and it would provide enough shelter for them to rest. Whether the sense of safety was false or not, she needed it right now; something familiar to purge the isolation.
Being back out here wasn't like coming home. Not yet, anyway. It felt more like an exploration of an alien world. She had been so removed from nature these past years that she had to wonder whether she was really cut out to make the journey. What had she been thinking? She was an old woman. It was hard enough to care for Romane in a house with all the things that made life easier, let alone out in the wilds with her dead son in tow.