WindBorn

by Windborn (lit)

  "Apparently the moral compass by which I hoped you would lead your life has broken and now you've lost your way in a world where you believe you can sin whenever you like. It makes me wonder if the lessons I attempted to teach you simply went in one ear and out the other. Did you not listen to anything I said?" she asked.

  He looked up. "I listened to every word you said, Mother," he replied.

  "Really?" she asked, eyebrows arched. Her lips tightened and her nostrils flared. "Well, I disagree with you. I don't believe you heard a gods-be-damned thing I said but if you did, you chose to embrace only what suited you."

  "Does it matter to you that I was unhappy, Mother?" he asked, tears forming in his eyes.

  "Being unhappy is part of life, my son," she reminded him.

  "But does it have to be, Mother?" he demanded. "With Rolanda I was so miserable I hated to see the sun rise every morning because I knew it would be another day spent wishing for something I could never have."

  "Do you have it now?" she queried softly.

  "Aye," he stated. "I do."

  She held his gaze steadily, refusing to allow him to look away this time. He knew she was gauging the truth of his words, the sincerity of his purpose. He could feel the insistent probe of her own immense Power traveling along the neuropathways of his brain as she gathered the information she sought. When at last she found whatever she had been seeking, she looked down at the hands she had clenched tightly in her lap. Her voice when she spoke to him was devoid of inflection and all the more chilling because of it.

  "The state of your marriage is neither here nor there, Gladeson," his mother said. "Any lack of love or misery you are forced to endure within that marriage has no bearing on what you did. You transgressed against the laws of our tribe. You broke the vows of your Joining." When he would have protested that statement, she waved a hand to silence him, her mouth tight and eyes hard. "Don't compound your crimes by trying to deny that you were unfaithful to your wife. The moment you took blood from a woman not of your tribe or even of your own race for that matter, you betrayed your Joining vows. Whether or not you thrust your body within hers is a moot point. You put hands to her. You lay with her. You sinned with her, taking pleasure not rightly yours from her body. You spilled seed that belonged to your Lady-wife and your Lady-wife alone. You did what you knew was forbidden. You knew it was wrong and now you must pay the price."

  "I will stand my punishment, Mother, but nothing you say to me, nothing you do to me, will make me regret what I have done with Lauryl. It may have been wrong but ...."

  "There is no maybe about it, Gladeson!" his mother snapped, sitting forward in her agitation, eyes snapping green fire. "What you did wasn't just morally wrong, it was illegal. You broke vows that you made before the gods, the Tribunal and your tribe." The last word was flung at him like a curse but her next words were whispered as though they were shameful for her to say. "You broke your word."

  Glade watched his beloved mother's face crinkle with pain and sadness, saw her lips trembling as she struggled not to cry. What she said next cut him to the core.

  "What kind of man breaks his word to his people, his god, and his mother?" A single tear slid down her cheek. "What kind of man did I raise?"

  The Queen lowered her head--her shoulders shaking with silent sobs--and squeezed her eyes shut, fresh tears dropping to her lap.

  "Mother?" Glade questioned, putting out a hand but his father--his king--stood and stepped in front of his wife.

  "It is up to your mother and the women of the tribe to decide your judgment. You may leave now and await their decision."

  "But Father ...."

  The words were stony and spoken without hope for denying the command. "You will leave. Now."

  Glade took one last look at his mother's bent head and got to his feet. He bowed respectfully to his father and turned away, his own face stricken and pale as he quit the throne room.

  Barren knelt down beside his wife and took her hand. "Are you all right, my love?" he asked softly, stroking her hand.

  "Aye," she whispered. She looked up, her face ravaged by her grief. "Oh, Barren, what am I to do?" Her chin trembled. "How can I condemn our boy when it was by my hand that his life became so unbearable?"

  The King gathered his lady into his arms and held her securely. "I trust you will do the right thing, Addie, but I make one request of you. I know you love this son of ours more than you love all the rest of our children but you can not let that love guide your judgment. You must decide his punishment based upon the sins he has committed."

  "I know," Adélie cried, putting up a hand to wipe at her tears. "But it only makes it that much harder."

  Her tears became wrenching sobs that wracked her body as she clung desperately to her husband, her head upon his shoulder.

  * * * * *

  Several days later, Glade's mother stood at the window of her private chamber and stared out at the late afternoon sun. She had a difficult decision to make and her heart was heavy, her soul ravaged by the knowledge that whatever she did, it would mean pain for her most beloved of children. When the knock came at her door, she called out for her visitor to enter then turned to face the man she'd been waiting to arrive.

  Breck bowed to the woman who had given birth to him. As her first born, he would always have her ear when her other children might not yet the look on his face made it clear that he wasn't sure she would allow him to speak to her. He waited patiently and respectfully for her to grant him permission to do so.

  Queen Adélie did not leave the window, did not bid her son forward. "Why are you here?" his mother asked in a tired voice.

  "I am here at the request of all your children, Mother," he replied. "To intercede on Glade's behalf."

  She gave him a steady look. "You believe he needs such intercession?"

  Breck took a few steps into the room. "We know the women of the tribe will be merciful to him, Mother, but there are some things to which we don't believe you were privy before he was brought before you."

  "And so it is your intention to relate these things to me now," she stated.

  "You always taught us that knowledge is power," her eldest son said. "You said that in order to render the best conclusion regarding any given situation, learning all one could about the circumstances involved was of the utmost importance before making a decision."

  Adelie's lips twitched with amusement despite the weariness lining her face and the sadness hovering in her swollen eyes. "You make me sound like a pompous ass, Breckland."

  "Nonsense, Mother," he said, taking a few more hesitant steps. "You are a very wise woman."

  "But one who is sick at heart at this moment," she said.

  "Then perhaps what I have to say will help ease that hurt," her son suggested.

  She left the window and took a seat on the settee, patting the place beside her and smiling tremulously as her oldest child was quick to join her. She reached for his hand and threaded her fingers through his, was silent for a moment as each looked at the physical proof of their loving connection.

  "He has deep feelings for this woman, Mother," Breck told her.

  The Queen nodded as though she knew that already but made no comment to her son's words.

  "The woman we hired sent us word that Glade had been at Blaithmoor as she suspected and that she had managed to free him. She asked us to meet her at Deccan in two days but when we got there they were nowhere in sight. We bided there six days and when there was still no word from either of them, we got worried. It was my decision that we go looking for them," Breck said. "As you know, we found them in Nonika."

  "A wretched place," his mother observed.

  "Made even more so by the monsoon that had hit that region and the subsequent backing up of the town's sewage system," Breck pronounced.

  "No doubt," she agreed with a crinkle of her nose.

  "I don't know which of us suggested we try Nonika but the rain was ending when we rode near there and it see
med as good a place as any to get a bite to eat."

  "The inn serves a passable mutton stew," Adélie informed him. "As do many inns in sheep country." Her fingers flexed around his as though she needed to intensify the contact.

  "I'll take your word for it," her son said. "As soon as we rode into town, all three of us sensed Glade's presence and that he was in trouble."

  She nodded. "More trouble than you knew," she said quietly.

  "We didn't stop but raced to where we felt him and burst into the inn, ran up the stairs and into his room. What we saw brought us up short."

  Queen Adélie listened intently as her eldest son related the events of that day. She watched his expression as he spoke of the Hell Hag's tending of his brother, of those things that had taken place which softened his voice and brought gentleness to his gaze.

  "In the carriage, he laid with his head in her lap the entire journey, so sick he could barely move. Mile after mile she stroked his hair with such tenderness, such affection, Vale and Knoll were as moved to tears at the sight as was I. She gave him Sustenance as casually as she gave him water and for a human to do that without so much as a blink of the eye, it impressed us greatly. But it was during those moments when Glade looked up at her, his eyes were filled with love for her that we knew how our brother truly felt. He…"

  "He looked at her with lust or with love, Breckland?" his mother interrupted. "I have been told she is a lovely woman."

  Breck released a long breath. "Mother, how often have you reminded us that men are governed by their shafts? What might have begun as lust had metamorphosed into love for Glade."

  "So," she said, unlacing her fingers from her son's. "He loves her."

  "With his entire being, Mother," Breck declared.

  "And she loves him."

  "Enough that she offered to stand his punishment for him," her son answered.

  Adélie arched one brow. "She said this?"

  He nodded.

  The Queen got to her feet, motioning her son to remain seated. She walked back to the window and pushed aside the curtain, looking out at the lowering sun as it clung tenaciously to the rim of the dark mountains beyond.

  "Has she returned yet from that sordid job she took in Dabiya Province?"

  "She arrived right after the noon meal," Breck responded.

  "It is an unnatural thing for a woman to work in the capacity she has chosen," Adélie complained. "It is so distasteful and unseemly."

  "She is of a different bent, Mother. Her upbringing and…"

  His mother waved him to silence. She did not like discussing the woman she had purposefully avoided meeting--even seeing--and each time she thought of the Hell Hag, it gave her a bitter taste in her mouth.

  For quite some time she remained there watching until the very last ray was drawn down behind the rolling mountain range and the land around the fortress was plunged into twilight. At last, she turned--thankful her son had remained quiet and respectful of her mood--and faced him.

  "Fetch her to me, Breckland," she ordered.

  * * * * *

  The woman Breck escorted back to his mother's chambers was nothing like the one to whom the Queen had shackled her beloved child. Tall and warrior-straight with thick waist length blonde hair that hung in curls around ample hips, she had sapphire blue eyes that at that moment were no warmer than the highest peaks of Mount Romar. She wore men's clothing as though her shapely body had been poured into the leather pants and tight cotton shirt and she walked into the room with a self-assurance that bordered on arrogance. Full-breasted with a small waist, she had the face of an angel yet the look of a demoness that stared back at Adélie Aeolian without even a single trace of intimidation.

  "Mother," Breck said, "this is Lauryl Coedil. She is…"

  "Leave us, Breckland," his mother ordered.

  Breck was quick to do as he was told, closing the chamber door firmly behind him. Like all of the men of his tribe, he had no desire to be privy to the workings of womenfolk.

  The two women stared at one another for the space of several heartbeats then the Queen tilted her head to one side in question.

  "Who are you, really, child?" Glade's mother asked and when she was given an answer, a slow nod was Adelie's only response. She offered her visitor a seat before sitting down in her favorite chair.

  Lauryl came right to the point. "Your son is a worthy man."

  "That is a surprising statement coming from a Daughter of the Night," Adélie remarked.

  "But nevertheless it is true," Lauryl asserted. She fused her gaze with the Queen's. "Even worthy men make mistakes from time to time."

  "It was more than a simple mistake, child. My son committed a major transgression against the tenets of his tribe," Adélie said. "The sexual matter aside, the taking of your blood was the greater sin."

  "The woman you had him marry had nearly driven him insane with hunger," Lauryl told her. "He was gravely ill and I freely offered my blood to him."

  "Without knowing what harm that innocent act of assistance would cause," Adélie reminded.

  "He tried to stop me but I insisted. I gave him no choice."

  "Nevertheless, what he did was morally wrong," Glade's mother replied. "He is the one at fault here, not you."

  "There you are wrong, Your Majesty. I am just as much at fault as he. We both know if a woman stays in her place, a man will be forced to. I opened the door for him and he was too weak to resist."

  "Aye, but he should have been strong enough to close that door and walk away. As a man he is bound by honor and should be governed by strength. He was weak and weakness is not acceptable to the Faolchúnna."

  "He was nearing the limits of his very sanity," Lauryl pointed out. "Would you rather he had become a true wolf and remained that way?"

  Adélie looked away from the probing blue eyes that were searching her own. "No, of course, not, but what I feel is unimportant. Glade transgressed and Glade must bear the consequences."

  "If it is an eye for an eye you want then blame me. Throw me to the women of your tribe," Lauryl offered. "I have strong shoulders and can easily bear the weight of their censure."

  "You can not take this upon your shoulders, child," the Queen said. "This is not about righting a wrong. This is about owning up to your responsibilities and paying the price for flaunting the laws of your tribe. He knows what is expected of him and he will endure whatever sentence is handed to him, no matter the cost."

  Lauryl got to her feet and stood there glaring down at the Faolchúnna queen. Her hands were clenched into fists at her side. "I will fight for this man," she declared. "With my last breath and with the last drop of my blood will I fight for him. I have killed two men for him already and I will kill two thousand more if needed. If you think to take him from me or me from him, you had best think again." She raised her chin. "As the gods are my witness, my tribe will pull these walls down upon you and yours if you try to keep us apart!"

  The first flicker of a real smile in nearly a week tugged at the lips of Queen Adélie. She stared up at the woman who had claimed her son's heart and felt great pride--not only in a young man who had garnered such devotion from a fierce Hell Hag but in a woman who would dare defy a mighty nation to be with that man.

  "I have no intention of keeping the two of you apart although you realize we will not allow the two of you to ever be alone together to sin again. You will be watched, believe me," she told Lauryl.

  "And his punishment?" Lauryl pressed, worry clouding her hard stare.

  "Glade will pay a heavy cost for what he has done but it will not be such an exacting price that it will cripple him."

  Fear shot through Lauryl and leached the blood from her face. "Surely you aren't talking about physically punishing him!"

  "What other punishment would you have us inflict? Sparing the rod does nothing but spoil the child," his mother told Lauryl. "The question is how many passes of that rod it will take to satisfy the women of his tribe."

 
"You can't ...."

  "We can and we will," the Queen said. "I have no choice in this, Lauryl. The matter is settled."

  "But he isn't well!"

  "Nor will his punishment be meted out until the Healers assure us he is healthy enough to withstand it," Adélie said. "Do you think I would knowingly put my son at risk, child?"

  Lauryl threw her pride aside and dropped to her knees before Glade's mother. Never had she knelt before another human--not her own mother nor even the Queen of the Daughters of the Night--and to humble herself in such a way went against the grain but for Glade she would do anything.

  "Please don't hurt him," she pleaded. "He's suffered enough at the hands of that bitch you chained him to. You didn't see what she'd done to him." Tears welled in her blue eyes. "I beg you, please don't do this. Let me stand the punishment in his stead."

  Likewise stunned that a warrior woman such as this would throw aside her pride to beg for the well being of the man she loved, Adélie sat forward to cup the younger woman's shoulder. "You love him that much?"

  "To the depths of my very soul," Lauryl swore.

  A loving look passed over the Queen's aging face and any animosity she might have borne for Lauryl Coedil evaporated like the morning mist. "Then if you love him as much as you profess then it is your duty to stand by him and be there when he needs you. What kind of man would he be if he allowed you--the woman he says he loves more than life itself--be punished for his wrongdoing? Could you still respect him if he allowed such a thing to transpire?"

  Lauryl's lips parted in shock. "He told you he loves me?"

  The Queen's eyebrows shot up. "He has not said as much to you?"

  The young woman shook her head slowly. "Nay."

  "Have you spoken to him about what you feel for him?"

  Lauryl shook her head again. Her gaze softened. "He told you this? Truly?"

  "He told his brothers," Adélie said. "Under the circumstances, he would not have expressed his feelings to me but he did say nothing I could do to him would make him regret what the two of you did."