“With Torrie and Leandra?” he prompted her.
“Yes, with Torrie and Leandra, I must carry my grief around in my heart like a secret.”
He sighed. “I know exactly what you mean. Although I can publicly mourn Torrie, I too, carry my sadness for our beautiful Leandra in my inner heart.”
She turned her hand upward and grasped his. They sat in quiet sadness for some time. Eventually, she freed her hand and took a sip of her wine. “Have you thought about your re-marriage?” she asked.
“As little as possible,” he said. She clucked her tongue at him. “I’m not going to remarry, Mel. I can’t bear the thought.”
“What about the Rodolphs?”
“I’m putting off being definite with them. They seem to accept that I won’t marry my son’s widow, and they’ve taken her back into their family castle.”
“Thank goodness. She would have been a disaster at the Women’s Retreat House.”
“Yes, and too young to be entombed there. She will eventually find another husband. Meanwhile, I’m taking every opportunity to display my crippled gait to her father. I’m hoping he just decides I’m too old.”
“In fact, I’ve heard they are turning their attention to Eldrin.”
Just then the wine arrived. Anglewart thanked the servant who delivered it and asked him to shut the door again on his way out. He then picked up the conversation where it left off: “Eldrin, poor boy. He’s about as keen on marrying is he is on being King.”
“How is he doing at learning to govern?”
Anglewart sighed. “Not well. His mind isn’t on it. He forgets things. I have to repeat myself over and over.”
The former queen looked thoughtful. “Actually, that is what I came to talk to you about, the succession. I have an idea.” Anglewart took a sip of wine, waiting for her to continue. “Isn’t it time, perhaps, for the Realms to see their first Queen?”
Anglewart choked on his wine. When he had recovered, he said, “Oh no, my dear. The Realms are far from ready to accept that.”
“Even one who saved an army from a Dragon attack? And is rumoured to be a Dragon Princess, even though we know she’s not.”
“Mel, dear …”
She cut him off. “No. Listen to me. I’ve been watching her run the infirmary. She is authoritative, efficient and is succeeding at keeping peaceful relations among some very different groups: soldiers, Sisters and Earth People healers. She is earning a reputation for good listening and fair decisions. Jessa is the one that has inherited the best of your gifts as King.”
“Oh for the Warrior God’s sake, Mel, my dear, you are mad.” Anglewart sounded exasperated, but Melisande knew him well enough to know that the idea had been planted.
Chapter 151: Maida
The infirmary was shrinking. Some of the men had returned to partial duties in the army, or moved to other King’s service. Many had gone to their homes to recuperate further. Only the most disabled still remained, receiving care and daily lessons to learn to walk, or at least care for themselves.
Maida was hiding her rounding belly with loose clothing. She had also begun to hear a small, sibilant voice in her head. Her Little Dragon’s name was Hermagloxian, and when Maida was figuring out what to do for one of her patients, he would whisper clues to her. He also reported the activities and thoughts of Glenardinaliat, Roxtrianatrix and the other Dragons. Through Hermagloxian, the Dragons had begun to make requests for meat when they were hungry. The King had finally agreed to give Eldrin the job of developing a large cattle farm where he could breed horses as well. His place at the King’s side was gradually being filled by Jessa as her duties at the infirmary decreased. Jessa had confessed to Maida one night that Anglewart had talked to her about the possibility of becoming Queen, not a consort Queen, but the actual ruler of the Westlands. He wasn’t sure, though, that the people could accept that. Neither was she.
Despite the painful shocks that Maida sometimes felt when she looked at Jessa, or heard her addressed as Princess Liandra, they had become friends, bonded by their commitment to the injured men in their care and their determination to overcome the many conflicts that had come up between their two very different peoples working side by side in the infirmary.
As Maida sat alone in her room, sipping tea in preparation for sleep, Hermagloxian whispered into her thoughts: “Maaaaaida. Maaaaida. It’s time.”
She nodded, although he couldn’t see her. “To leave for the Healers’ School?”
“Yesssss. Time. Harder to hide me. And we need time to learn. Quiet time. Ssecret time.”
Maida had instinctively known, when she told Liandra’s story to her family, that this part of it must be left out. “I know.”
“Roxtrianatrix come too. Learn with usssss.”
“He wants to come?” This news gave Maida more pleasure than she had felt in a long time.
“Call Glenardinaliat. Take usssss.”
“You’ll tell him where we want to go?”
“Yesssss. Or you send him picture, where you want to go. He see your mind.”
“Through you?”
“No, just you, him.”
“Oh.”
“Go tomorrow?”
“There are a few things to finish up here, but we’ll go soon. I promise.”
“Go ssssssssssoon.”
Two weeks later, Glendardiliat carred Maida to the Healing School. Roxtrianatrix and Alethilion flew beside her most of the way. She had the golden Dragon put her down on the Barrens, so as not to frighten everyone, and walked the rest of the way. As soon as she arrived, word spread faster than she could have believed possible. Among the first to arrive was Aymeric. He swept Maida into his arms and turned her in a circle. “Be careful, Rafe, I mean, Aymeric,” she squealed with the breath she had left from his hug. “Put me down.” He did, but his grin continued to be visible, towering over the mass of bodies that poured from every doorway, greeting and kissing her from all sides. The story of her recent months in the capital city of the Westlands came tumbling out in response to many questions.
Mother Sarah presided over an impromtu celebratory meal in the Dining Hall. Maida searched the benches from her place at the head table. Finally she leaned toward Mother Tess, who sat beside her, to ask over the clatter of pottery and cutlery, “Where is Mother Peg?”
Tess chuckled, “Oh my dear,” she said, “Peg is trying to set a new record for the longest snit ever. She has been studying and taking meals in her room for months and associates with the rest of us as little as possible, especially me and Sarah.”
“Why? You’ve been friends forever.”
“We told her off, child. For her arrogance, for turning Keiran and Aymeric away when they arrived …”
“She did?”
“She did, and finally, for belittling your gifts all these years, using you as a servant, never taking you on as a full Apprentice.”
“You said that?”
“Surely after what you have done in the past few months, you cannot say that you don’t know about your considerable gifts as a Healer.”
“No, I guess not.”
“Well, you would have believed in yourself all along if Mother Peg had.”
After the meal, Maida accompanied Sarah, Tess and Nell to Mother Sarah’s room. She told them the rest of the story. They marveled at her descriptions of the Dragon Priestesses’ School, wept with her as she recounted Liandra’s death, and rejoiced at her news that she would be the next to bear a Little Dragon and Liandra’s Roxtrianatrix would come to learn with them. All three of the Old Ones kissed her and hugged her again and again before she succeeded in departing from the room. An Apprentice showed her to her own quarters but, tired as she was, she did not enter.
Maida found Mother Peg sitting in a chair by her fire. She had aged since her hopeful departure for the Healing School with Liandra and Roxtrianatrix. Maida gave the old Healer an abbreviated version of the story she had told Nell, Tess and Sarah. She tried to read t
he old woman’s eyes, hoping to find regret there but seeing only impatience. “So, you’re to be the second Dragon Priestess,” Peg said.
“Aren’t you glad?” Maida asked.
Reluctantly, Peg turned back to face her. “Of course,” she said. “How soon are you due?”
“Four months, I figure.”
“I guess you’ll have Tess or old Sarah for your midwife.”
Ah, so that’s what was bothering the old woman. “I don’t think they’re experienced enough,” Maida said.
Peg pinned her wth those black, raisin eyes in the old way. “What are you talking about? They are the most experienced midwives alive.”
“They’ve never delivered a Little Dragon, have they?” Maida smiled.
Peg looked surprised for a moment, then, at least for someone who knew her as well as Maida did, a little satisfaction crept over her wrinkled face. “Well,” she said. “Well then.”
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I hope you have enjoyed reading The Little Dragons as much as I enjoyed creating it. Please visit me at www.rowanstarsmith.ca
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