A real adult now, with opinions that mattered--not that she'd ever believed hers hadn't. She'd be allowed to drink (finally!). She'd made sure to get her card before leaving, for she wanted no one questioning her legality in Mudflat or Harbourtown. The clerk at Social Administration had been leery of giving a card a day early, but the combination of her best smile, a bit of flirting, and the records saying she'd be on the road all that day had convinced him, though he had put the "valid as of" date as 1st Primera, 4020.
So what? There were to be no taverns tonight, not between here and Mudflat. Ghia actually hoped they would ride on through the night, despite her discomfort. She wanted to be in Mudflat tomorrow evening so she could have a drink on her birthday.
It wasn't as if they could celebrate New Year's while on the road, anyway. Might as well keep riding until Mudflat, right? She wasn't in charge of this mission, but she would speak to Yarrow and ask if they could. Sleeping in a saddle may be preferable to the rocky ground.
Not so good as sleeping in a warm bed, which she would have in Mudflat tomorrow evening if they pressed on. Or that I'd have at home if I'd stayed instead of planning this crazy thing. Something urged her on, something she couldn't deny. Sometimes it was a real trial, having such powers. She did wish she could be in Atherton for her birthday, for she'd spent every birthday with her mother and aunt since they'd found her. Their Regala de Primavera, they called her -- "spring gift". She didn't really know whether it was her real birthday, but that had been the day they'd found her, in 4001, when, they said, she'd been about a year old. It seemed reasonable to have her birthday entered into the archives as the first day of the new year.
It could have been worse, had she landed with foster parents not so caring. After all, who wants to celebrate after New Year's Eve? However, Helene and Kasandra always made sure her party had started the night before, at the celebrations for the end of winter, and lasted until the evening of the first day of the new year.
Truly, she had a wonderful foster family. She regretted not being able to spend this birthday with them, for this one was a rather large milestone. What could she do? She needed to go to Harbourtown and if she had decided to stay in town instead of accompany Yarrow to Mudflat first, she would have been flat out of luck. Traveling to Harbourtown, alone, in the beginning of spring when everything was muddy? Without a horse! There had been no choice, so very early that morning she had slipped out of Jules' bed and gone to say her farewells to her comatose mother in the hospitalis, and her very sleepy aunt at the tavern, which was still a hospice for those patients from the clinics. Her aunt had given her a small wrapped gift with some hugs and kisses, but only on the condition that Ghia wait until the first to open it. As if I wouldn't! They'd had a very teary goodbye. She hoped her mother had heard what she'd said to her, too. It was difficult, doing this so differently from how it had been done her whole life. At least I'll get to spend my birthday with Jules. I really hope he cheers up between now and tomorrow.
Soon they came across some small hills and Ghia guessed they were getting closer to Mudflat, which, she knew, rested on a plateau between two ranges of the foothills of the Blood Mountains. She'd never been there, of course. In fact, this was her first journey out of Atherton. She had studied maps and books and felt she could make reasonable guesses about what she might find.
Caelum nodded to the two of them and rode on ahead to ride beside Yarrow. Ghia noted the surprise in Yarrow's posture as her major joined her and Aro dropped back to ride beside the two healers.
Yarrow didn't yell at Caelum or ride on ahead without them, so it looked as if things were better between the two would-be lovers. A bit better than they had been, at least, for the two still weren't speaking, and it had been clear this morning that Yarrow was not pleased that Caelum was tagging along. But better nonetheless. Ghia forced herself to be happy about the change.
She turned to smile at Aro, for she wished for conversation. "How are you today, Major Aro?" She made her voice kind, for even though she'd been genuinely angry last night, she felt bad about how mean she'd been to him.
He shrugged. "Hungover. But that's better than drunk, so...." he gave her a game smile. She said nothing in reply, for how would she know? After a pause he spoke again. "I want to thank you, Ghia."
She looked at him bemusedly. "For what? I was really mean to you last night -- for which I'm sorry," she added, glad to be able to apologise.
He gave a brisk shake of his head. "Please, don't be. You were kinder than Anala would have been had she found I'd fallen off the caravan."
It took a moment for that to register. "Fallen off... You're an --"
"Recovering," he said, cutting her off, though he smiled. "I'd been dry for over ten years. Didn't realise how much of my strength to remain so came from Anala." His smile turned bittersweet. "It was because of her that I recovered at all; so I guess I shouldn't be surprised. Anyway, I thank you, Ghia. That kick in the fustanella that you gave me was just what I needed."
Ghia was flabbergasted. She'd never thought Aro was a...a Friend of Terra, as they called themselves, for Terra was Althea's daughter, Goddess of all the good healing things of the earth and then of healing and cleansing the body.
"You're welcome, I guess. But Aro -- oh, I feel terrible now!" she said, upset. "I called you such names...." she trailed off, hating her mean streak. She looked down at the saddle horn, feeling tears well up in her eyes. Why are you crying, stupid? So weak....
A hand bridged the gap between their horses to rest on her arm. She looked up to see Aro looking at her kindly. "It was as I said, Ghia, You were kinder to me than Anala would be. Didn't I say as much last night, Jules?" he added, looking at the medic behind her.
She twisted in the saddle to look at Jules, but barely succeeded in facing him. "You didn't tell me that last night!" she said, hating that she sounded like a petulant child.
Jules looked at her mildly, lips curved in a small smirk. "I didn't get a chance. And yes, Aro, you did say as much," he went on, while Ghia was very glad Jules didn't say why he'd not gotten a chance, sure she was blushing furiously already. "I believe you also said 'Thank Terra for that know-it-all healer,' am I right?" Aro nodded and looked at Ghia nervously for her reaction. She merely shrugged. She'd been called worse. Jules patted her leg affectionately. "See? No reason to be upset."
"Right," chimed in Aro, and Ghia gave up.
Men are impossible. "Fine. But I'm not going to be that mean again," she warned.
There was a snort behind her. "I doubt that," said Jules, but there was no malice in it and she let it go.
She looked ahead to where Yarrow and Caelum rode, and saw they were talking now. Or, rather, Caelum was talking and Yarrow was listening.
"I wonder what they're talking about," she said softly, so only Jules could hear her.
He didn't have an answer for her.
Caelum
Caelum couldn't believe his luck. He was riding next to Yarrow and she wasn't trying to stab him.
And she doesn't hate me. She'd said so. How amazing was that?
He still had more to tell her, of course. There'd be plenty of time on this trip, and he'd already made a large first step. She'd listened. He was so happy.
And so glad he'd listened to his Uncle Pieter, whose lessons had been invaluable. He was a new Caelum, now -- smarter and a little more suave, he hoped.
"Caelum," Yarrow's voice cut through his thoughts.
She's speaking to me! "Yes, Ma'am?"
She sighed, and gave him a look that said she was already regretting speaking. He kept his expression neutral and held his breath.
"I need to know why. I know there's no point to knowing, that the reason doesn't really matter, but...I still need to know."
He let his breath out in a long sigh, and nodded. "You deserve to know."
He told her everything -- starting from the day Saul deSelena had come to his family's farm. Caelum had been visiting for a brief time, and he'd seen S
aul fencing with Pieter, whom he'd easily bested. Caelum had fenced with the newcomer and been defeated within minutes. He watched Saul intently, and knew he'd never seen a swordswoman his equal.
Saul said he was looking for something. He didn't know what, but he'd been on a quest to find it for several years, beginning in his hometown of Atton.
It hadn't been in Mudflat, nor Harbourtown. It hadn't been across the Three Sisters, the rivers that led from the sea to the Blood River, and it wasn't in Southland. He continued on his trek, to Smoke, he said. Caelum guessed he didn't find it there either, for a little while later Saul was Consort to Queen Zanny, and then was called Lord Saul. Caelum could hardly believe Zanny was what Saul sought but to each his own. Besides, the expert swordswoman could only be good for the then-Queen.
Then he left, and Zanny became worse. Eventually he ended up in Nucalif, where he married a young woman named Lyra Timor, poised to inherit the ruling seat in the city-state, and Saul became Seigneur Timor of Nucalif -- the once-prosperous friend of Athering that had since fallen on hard times.
Lord Timor had softened those times, and stayed with his lady husband -- apparently the soft flower of the girl was what he'd been seeking. Or perhaps it had been life in Nucalif period, and Lyra was just an extra benefit. Whatever it was, he was happy -- or so all gossip said. When that gossip reached Zanny's ears, well....
Caelum did not need to say all of this. Yarrow knew most of the story herself, for she'd been there for a lot of it. He filled in what she didn't know, rounding out her understanding of the tale so she would know the whole truth. As much of the whole truth that anyone but the late Saul or Lyra could know.
"When I'd heard our orders," he continued, trying to keep his voice from catching on the lump in his throat, "I knew you would take him alone, out of pride. I knew that he'd kill you, for I knew he was better than you were with a sword, and he had more to fight for."
They both knew that was true. Lord Timor had a family to protect, whereas Yarrow and the rest only had orders to follow. It was a battle of passions, and it was obvious which was stronger. "I couldn't let that happen, Yarrow. I'd let Umbra take my soul first."
He fell silent. That was it. There was nothing more he could say. He hoped what he had said would be enough.
"I see," she said at length, and he accepted it, for he knew she could give him nothing else.
Lares
He couldn't believe what his lady was asking of him.
"Leave you? Alone with him? Are you mad?"
Her face registered surprise, and well it should, for this was the first display of temper he'd shown her. He couldn't help it. How could she ask this of him? He'd vowed to stay beside her until death! Being apart from her would be worse than death.
"Lares, please," she began, but he cut her off with an angry gesture.
"I won't leave you, Lady. I've said it before and I'll say it again until you believe me but I will not leave you!"
A smash as the perfume bottle that had been in her hand moments before landed against the wall beside him, and a tinkle as the pieces slid to the floor amid a mess of scented oil.
"Why?" she screamed, and it was his turn to be surprised at his normally placid love. "Because you love me? Is that it, Lares -- you love me and so you'll stay here and torment me with what I cannot have?"
Her voice broke; she was crying and crumbling before his eyes, and he strode to her to gather her up in his arms.
"No, no, darling," he whispered, supporting her small form. "Not torment. Never torment. Say the word and I'll take you away from here! You don't have to have this," he said, stroking her hair and trying to soothe her. The lady would not be soothed.
Her fist connected with his chest and he stumbled back, releasing her abruptly. She looked at him, eyes red with salty tears that ran down her cheeks. She'd never been so beautiful to him -- this was her first display to him of any sort of passion. It was gorgeous. She was gorgeous.
"I will not leave, Lares. You've known this for years," she choked out.
"Why not? What keeps you here? It can't possibly be him...." he laced the word with as much disgust as he felt, which was a great deal. How could anyone harbour anything but hate for Maurice Exsil Vis? It didn't seem possible that anyone loved or cared for the man.
She smiled at him sadly, and he felt his fears confirmed. "It's complicated," she said. "You might understand when you're older."
Older! He was little under half her age, if that. She couldn't be much older than fifty years. Didn't look older than thirty, but he'd witnessed everything in the hall, knew Anala was Hope's daughter, knew his lady had to be closer to fifty than he had thought.
Oh, yes, he'd heard everything, from what Anala had screamed at Maurice to what had transpired upon mother's meeting daughter. He was concerned about Anala, and held a great deal more respect for the bellica, but she was not his primary worry.
Hope was.
But. Older! "You're not that much older than I, My Lady," he said, hoping to compliment her.
Instead she let out a hollow, maddened laugh -- no, a cackle, and sank to the floor. "Do you know how old I am?" she rasped.
How could he? No one did. He shook his head.
She laughed again, and it turned into a high pitched keening sound as she rocked back and forth on the floor. He resisted going to her, to soothe her, as she seemed to not like that.
At length she stopped, and said, so soft he strained to hear: "I was near twice your age when Maurice was born." She gave him a terrible look, for he saw lurking madness in her eyes.
It was insane. Near a century had passed since she'd been born? Mayhap more than a century, for she'd given him no real number, just estimates. Insane and impossible. He knew it to be true, however, for she never lied to him. Evaded, yes. But never lied.
He knelt beside her and put his arms around her, holding her close. "Darling, I love you no less," was all he said, and then he brushed away a strand of her hair and kissed her deeply, proving his affection with more than words.
Hope
The touch of Lares' young, soft lips on her old, used ones cut through the madness she felt, and Hope leaned into his embrace eagerly, returning the kiss with whatever passion she had left in her. His hand reached to cup her face and caress her skin tenderly.
It was nice. Extremely nice.
But too tender, and too sweet. Those things could never make her crumple with desire. Lares could never give her what she needed.
And I will kill him if I keep him here.
Reluctantly she broke away from him. He looked crestfallen, but did not press her for more than she could give. Hope knew he'd make some woman very happy someday. It wouldn't be she. Can't be.
"That's not what I was asking," she said in response to his last words to her. "I'm old, Lares, and God willing I'll die soon. But," she added, cutting off his protest, "but I cannot die in peace without knowing both you and Anala are safe." She grabbed his hand, squeezing it, and looked pleadingly into his eyes. "Please, Lares. If you love me, do this for me. Keep yourself and my daughter safe."
He looked at her for a long, long time. Then he sighed, and raised her hand to his lips. "I hear and obey, My Lady," he said simply, letting her hand drop.
"Thank you," she said, and closed her eyes and leaned back against her bed. Another battle won.
When she opened her eyes, Lares was gone.
Jules
Night had fallen around them, but they rode on, refreshed from their second break. Ghia had suggested they ride on through the night, which, Jules thought, had surprised Yarrow. No one had come up with a reason not to, and so they'd just kept going.
No one except him. But he'd be damned if he told his bellica he needed a break from Ghia being in his lap. He'd never wanted to be an ascetic, but it looked as if the Goddesses had different ideas.
He adjusted their positions in the saddle, trying to find a way of sitting that didn't torment him so. It was useless. The saddle
wasn't really big enough for two people to ride it comfortably. Not if one of them wants to retain any self-control, he thought, gritting his teeth as Suki put a little more force into her trot, making both healers bounce even more in the saddle.
Demon horse. He'd bet she knew....
Ghia slumped forward then, and Jules realised she'd fallen asleep. Poor girl must be exhausted.
He didn't want her falling off, no matter how much her curves were torturing him. He slinked an arm around her waist and pulled her back until she was resting comfortably against him, head on his shoulder.
So much for trying to keep from touching her as much as possible, he thought morosely, and settled in for a harder -- More difficult, I meant more difficult! -- ride.
Ghia
Ghia was surprised, even shocked, to feel Jules' arm come around her and pull her back against him. He'd not been overtly physically affectionate with her today, aside from that small leg pat earlier. Why the sudden change?
Oh, he must have thought she was asleep. She'd fallen into a light trance state so easily she didn't even realise she'd done it until she felt his arm around her.
Now that she was here, she was going to contact Rosa.
She stretched mentally, letting her thoughts travel back to Atherton on feather light gusts of air.
Rosa.... she called, and instantly felt the presence of her mentor.
Yes, child -- where are you now? Heading to Mudflat? ...oh, I see.
It was nice how rarely Ghia had to extrapolate things with the magea.
Rosa, have you discovered aught of Anala?
No, child -- there is a most vexing wall around the island. I can't penetrate it.
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