A River of Orange

by Roberta C. M. DeCaprio

  "Aye, but I knew her long before I met Wysteria,” Meav said, pulling her foot away and closing the front of her robe.

  Rule stood. “Sute ... how?"

  Meav took a deep breath. “She is me mother."

  Rule stared at her in disbelief. “But she was set out to sea to die."

  "And she did not die. Instead her raft found Ireland's shores where she fell in love and had three daughters ... me being the eldest."

  His shock turned quickly to fury. “Then she is alive and well?"

  Meav's voice broke slightly. “Nay, she died after the birth of my twin sisters."

  The silence lengthened between them. Meav shifted uncomfortably.

  Rule felt like a volcano on the verge of erupting. “Did you know Meridith tried to kill my mother?"

  "Nay, ‘twas not her,” Meav objected quickly.

  Rule's nostrils flared with ferocity. “And now you have come to kill me."

  Meav shot to her feet. “Nay, milord ... you have it all wrong."

  Rule's expression darkened. “Ah, my lady, for the first time I think I have it right. You thought you could bewitch me, as your Aunt Devora has done ... as Meridith did to my mother, and then finish what each of them has started."

  Meav's lips thinned. “None of what you say is true."

  He glowered at her. “Nay?” His lip curled. “I beg to differ."

  She threw the words at him like stones. “I do not hold any loyalty to Devora; have not even met the woman."

  Rule threw his head back and laughed sardonically. “Oh, this is rich, my lady. You lie with such sincerity."

  Meav stomped her foot. “I am not lying!"

  Rule spat the words out contemptuously. “You are nothing but a little witch, and I want you gone from Keronia. I will see to it that you are banished like your mother.” He retrieved the loin cloth from the floor, wrapped it around himself, and looked fiercely back at Meav. “If I have to put you on a raft myself!"

  Rancor sharpened Meav's voice. “I am not a witch ... I am just a girl from Dublin who has come to..."

  Rule interrupted her vehemently. “Deona ... be silent!"

  Meav suddenly stepped away from the heat of his rage. “Will you not allow me to explain?"

  He replied with disdain that forbade any further argument. “Banished ... do you hear? From this time on you are banished!"

  Chapter Twelve

  Titiana sat cross-legged on a branch overlooking the sea. She had a big decision to make. She wanted to help Meav and Zailia but she could not do it alone. Titiana needed to gather the other pixies and enlist their aid as well. If she did this, of course, she would have to divulge her secret ... the fact she had been visiting the castle, even after being forbidden. There was a chance Titiana's disobedience would win her the spanking of her life from her sister Gyla.

  Titiana sighed. “What am I to do?"

  As she thought on it further she came to the conclusion that another spanking, no matter how painful or humiliating, was not as horrific as what would happen to Meav and Zailia.

  Squaring her tiny, bared shoulders Titiana spread her wings and flew to the meal assembly. ‘Twas at the campfire the pixies were gathered, eating their dinner and chatting about the day's events; the only time of the day Titiana knew she would be able to talk with the entire clan at one time.

  Titiana landed near Gyla, who sat on a rock eating her dinner. “Vedela."

  "You are late,” Gyla snapped.

  Titiana smiled nervously. “Sorry.” She inhaled deeply. “I need to talk with the clan about an urgent matter."

  Gyla frowned. “You need to sit and eat."

  Titiana nodded in agreement. The last thing she wanted to do was rile Gyla. Making her way to the unity table, Titiana filled her leaf sack with food and rejoined her sister. For a moment the two quietly munched on their meal.

  'Twas Gyla that broke the silence. “What is this urgent matter?"

  Titiana placed aside her meal leaf and cleared her throat. “You are not going to like what I have done, sister..."

  "I never like what you do, Titiana,” Gyla interjected sharply. She put her leaf sack down and folded her arms across her chest. “Well, what now?"

  Titiana sighed heavily. “I have been visiting the castle."

  Gyla's large, blue eyes widened in horror. “Have you lost your senses?"

  "Nay, my senses are still with me,” Titiana mumbled.

  "I think not, sister,” Gyla snapped. “What have I told you about nearing the castle?"

  Titiana scooted away from Gyla, who now had the face of a thunder cloud. “That ‘tis an evil place and I could be killed should I venture near its walls."

  Gyla's lips thinned in anger. “And yet you still did as you pleased."

  Titiana nodded slowly and hung her head.

  Gyla grabbed Titiana by the arm and swung her over her knee. “I am sick and tired of having to keep you in line,” she griped, spanking Titiana's bare backside severely.

  "Stop, Gyla,” Titiana cried; the cheeks of her bottom stinging with every slap of Gyla's hand.

  Gyla halted. “Aye, I will stop.” She pushed Titiana to the ground and stood. “Only long enough to finish your punishment in front of the entire clan.” She reached for Titiana's hand and pulled her to her feet. “All will laugh and point their fingers at you and call you names. Perhaps that will teach you to stay away from the castle and to mind your own business."

  Titiana pulled her hand away. “Nay, you will not humiliate me further!"

  Gyla's eyes widened again this time with anger. “You dare to answer back your older sister?"

  "Aye, I do,” Titiana said flatly. “This time you must listen to me."

  "Why, Titiana ... why should I listen to you?"

  "Because lives depend on it,” Titiana blurted out.

  Gyla folded her arms in front of her. “Whose lives?"

  Titiana took a deep, calming breath and explained to Gyla the plan she had overheard between the queen and Zailia, and the youth brew that Devora had concocted from the blue flowers that grew in the dungeon. “I think I have discovered a way to help Keronia be rid of Devora ... and in turn help Meav and Zailia,” Titiana concluded.

  Gyla screamed in frustration. “How can you possibly do any of what you boast?"

  "Well, I cannot by myself, but with the rest of the pixies we can..."

  Gyla gave Titiana a hostile glare. “I have not the time to listen to nonsense; to a pixie who thinks she can do something when she cannot."

  Titiana stomped her foot. “But I can ... I have found a way to help, to stop Devora's plan and to put an end to her ... but I cannot do it by myself."

  Gyla impatiently grabbed Titiana's arm. “Come, time for an arrogant pixie to get a spanking she will never forget nor live down."

  Titiana dug her heels into the earth. “Nay, no more spankings, Gyla.” She looked deep into her sister's eyes. “Please, I beg of you to just hear me out."

  Gyla countered icily. “You have only a moment to speak."

  Titiana swallowed hard. “One afternoon, while Devora and Shell lay entwined in each other's arms, I was able to fly into the castle and squeeze through an opening in the door. Once out into the great hall, I stayed to the ceiling, in order not to get caught. When I came upon the dungeon door, I slipped through another hole and made my way to where the blue flowers grow."

  Gyla rolled her eyes. “Mercy me, the chance you took."

  "I plucked one from the earth,” Titiana continued. “But in an instant two grew in its place."

  Gyla placed her hands on her hips. “There, you see ... ‘tis a hopeless venture."

  "Nay, ‘tisn't,” Titiana said.

  Gyla narrowed her eyes. “'Tis if you pluck one and two comes back."

  Titiana's voice held a rasp of excitement. “Not if you wet instead of pluck."

  Gyla gasped. “You wet on one?"

  "Aye, ‘twas an accident really ... I had drunk lots of coconut nectar e
arlier and while I hovered over a flower I suddenly got the urge to go. Before I knew it I had saturated the blossom. Within moments it shriveled and died. I waited for another to grow in its place, but none did."

  There was a tinge of wonder in Gyla's voice. “And without this herb Devora has no brew?"

  Titiana nodded. “Without the brew the queen will turn old."

  Gyla smiled. “And die."

  "Aye, sister, she will die.” Titiana bit her bottom lip. “Unfortunately I have not that much moisture in me to wet on every one of the flowers.” She looked over at the other Pixies still enjoying their meal. “But with the help of the clan..."

  Gyla finished the sentence. “All the flowers can be destroyed."

  Titiana's heart was overjoyed that her sister finally understood. “Aye, all of them."

  Gyla reached for her sister's hand. “Come, let us talk with the others ... there is not one moment to waste."

  * * * *

  Zailia did not welcome the morning. ‘Twould be just another day spent trying to survive Devora's control. Zailia sighed and made her way to the window, looking out at the few remaining flowers that grew. She wondered how the hardy blooms survived the weeds of an unkempt garden. ‘Twas Zailia's mother that had the green thumb, growing herbs for Wysteria's healing potions, and bringing forth each year an abundance of crops that graced their table at every meal.

  Though she too was blessed with a green thumb, Zailia's hours were spent differently. With an ailing father to tend, and working at the castle, Zailia had not the time or the energy to follow in her mother's ways.

  She sighed heavily and stuck her hands deep into her pockets. ‘Twas then her fingers touched upon the vial of poison. She flinched and pulled the tiny glass tube from the apron's pouch, holding it up to the light. “There has to be another way to save my father,” she mumbled aloud.

  "What nonsense do you speak, daughter?” came a gruff voice.

  Zailia spun around to find Tobiah standing behind her, gaunt and weary looking, his tunic sleeve empty of an arm. “Papa, you should be in bed."

  Tobiah frowned, and waved a hand in the air. “Nay, I have rested enough. ‘Tis time I get back to living."

  Zailia rushed to her father's side. “Let me help you to a chair."

  Tobiah shooed her. “I am able to do that for myself, daughter."

  She placed her hands on her hips. “And how is it you are able?"

  Tobiah made his way to a chair and sat down. “Wysteria came by a day ago, while you were at the castle, and left me a healing potion to drink."

  Zailia frowned. “You said you did not believe her potions could help."

  Tobiah shrugged. “I had nothing to lose by trying.” He smiled. “So here I be; a tad weak, but definitely on the mend."

  Zailia hugged her father. “This pleases me so much, Papa. To see you up and about again is all that I have hoped for."

  Tobiah patted his daughter's arm affectionately. “What is in the vial, Zailia?"

  She backed away quickly. “'Tis nothing, Papa."

  Tobiah arched a brow. “I will ask one more time, daughter. What is in the vial?"

  Zailia slipped the small vessel back into her pocket and walked over to the fireplace. “Let me give you a bowl of stew,” she said, changing the subject. “I have been simmering it all day."

  "Zailia!” Tobiah snapped.

  Zailia spun around. “Please, Papa, leave it be."

  "Nay, I will not.” He gave her a stern look. “Now, daughter, we are both too old for me to turn you over my knee. But I am still your father and you will respect me as such.” He cast his gaze to her apron pocket. “What is in the vial?"

  Zailia licked her dry lips. “'Tis poison."

  Tobiah arched a brow. “Poison, huh?"

  Zailia gave a taut nod.

  "Where did you get poison, daughter?"

  Zailia pulled the cylinder from her pocket and placed it on the table. “'Tis Devora's."

  Tobiah retrieved the tiny container and rolled it over in his hand. “And why have you got it?"

  Zailia moaned. “Papa, please do not make me tell you."

  Tobiah glared at his daughter with authority. “Zailia Gabrella Finnley, I want a straight answer from you now."

  Tears sprang to Zailia's eyes. “Remember I told you I went calling on Wysteria's guest?"

  Tobiah nodded. “The young woman from Dublin ... Meav is her name, right?"

  "Aye, Meav O'Shay,” Zailia added.

  "And as I recall you enjoyed the lass, said you two had things in common,” Tobiah added.

  "'Tis true, we do ... and I like her just fine, Papa ... but..."

  Tobiah narrowed his eyes. “But what, Zailia?"

  Zailia's voice broke with emotion. “I have to poison her."

  Tobiah arched a brow. “Please tell me my old ears have failed me."

  "Your ears are fine, Papa."

  Tobiah looked down at the vial he held. “What has Devora threatened you with now, daughter?"

  "Your death,” Zailia sobbed.

  Tobiah chuckled sardonically. “Really, my land is not enough, eh?” He rolled the glass tube in his hand, then threw it across the room, smashing it to pieces against the wall. The deadly liquid flowed from the broken cylinder and ran into the cracks of the stone floor. “That is what I think of Devora's threats."

  Zailia gasped. “Papa, what have you done?"

  Tobiah leaned forward in his chair and lowered his voice. “You and I both know you could not harm a flea, Zailia, and would not have gone through with the plan."

  Zailia covered her face with her hands. “'Tis true, ‘tis true,” she moaned.

  "Then what recourse had you counted on?"

  Zailia peeked at her father through parted fingers. “I had notions at first of escaping ... of us getting as far from Keronia as we could.” Slowly she dropped her hands to her sides. “But Devora's spies are everywhere. She'd never let us leave."

  "So what was your second notion?"

  Zailia made her way to a chair and plopped down. “I was still contemplating that when you interrupted me."

  Tobiah searched her face. “Why have you not come to me with this problem, daughter?"

  Zailia cast her gaze elsewhere. “You have been so sick, Papa ... losing your arm and ... and ... I just wanted to spare you from worrying about anything but getting well."

  Tobiah reached over and placed a finger beneath Zailia's chin, turning her to look his way. “Aye, I have lost an arm, but not my mind. If you had come to me the moment Devora had threatened you, I would have worked out a solution."

  Tears welled in Zailia's eyes. “What solution is there?"

  "I have been a soldier all my life, daughter. Never would I be without a plan up my sleeve.” Tobiah chuckled lightly. “Even if one of those sleeves is vacant of an arm."

  Zailia leaned forward, eager to hear her father out. “Do tell, then."

  Tobiah stroked the stubble on his chin. “You will have Meav here for tea as planned, in case the queen's spies are watching.” He turned to look at the trap door in the corner of the kitchen and lowered his voice considerable. “Then after we will all go down below."

  Zailia stared in disbelief at her father. Surely he has lost his mind. “That is your plan ... for us to hide out in the root cellar?"

  "Hush, daughter, not so loud,” Tobiah warned, lowering his tone to a mere whisper. “'Tis not only a root cellar but also a tunnel to the Temple of Silah ... where Devora and her cohorts can not follow."

  Zailia frowned. “But there is no exit from that underground room."

  Tobiah eyes twinkled. “Not that one can usually notice, but if you concentrate on the north wall, one will appear."

  Zailia's eyes widened. “Why have I not been told of this before?"

  "'Twas for your safety I have kept quiet."

  Zailia arched a brow. “You do not trust me?"

  "'Tis not a case of trust, Zailia,” Tobiah said softly.
/>   "Then what, Papa?"

  Tobiah affectionately squeezed his daughter's hand. “I would say I am much like you.” He frowned. “Or is it you are much like me?” He shrugged. “Whatever the case may be, I did not want to worry you with anything more.” He smiled warmly at his daughter. “'Tis not up to you to shoulder all the problems in this household, Zailia. I never wanted it this way."

  "But the land ... our home..."

  "To hell with it all,” Tobiah broke in. “'Tis not worth watching my daughter throw away her youth for."

  Zailia looked around the tiny kitchen. “But ‘tis the place where your father, and his father before him lived; where you and Mama started your lives together, had children, made your dreams come true. I thought it meant everything to you."

  "Those things are in the past, daughter. What means the most to me now is you, your chance at happiness, love, and a family,” Tobiah explained. He smiled warmly. “I want grandchildren to bounce on my knee before I die."

  "But where will we live?” Zailia searched her father's face. “Surely we cannot stay forever in the temple."

  Tobiah tweaked his daughter's nose, as he had done when she was a child. “We must take one step at a time and have patience."

  "And why would you be privileged to have a secret passage to the temple?” Zailia probed.

  Tobiah brought his mouth close to Zailia's ear. “Neteru, the high priestess, is your mother's sister."

  Zailia gasped. “Something else I have not been told."

  "No one on the island knew Neteru and your mother were related."

  Zailia frowned. “But why ... what is the reason for such secrecy?"

  Tobiah sat back in his seat. “Neteru would then be vulnerable to Devora's wickedness if the knowledge she had family living on the island got out.” Tobiah patted his daughter's hand reassuringly. “As it stands now the temple is off limits to Devora and remains a safe haven for all that dwell there."

  Zailia sighed with relief. A giant weight had been lifted from her shoulders. No longer would she have to work for Devora; or fear each day that dawned. She stood and wrapped her arms around her father's wrinkled neck. “Thank you, Papa."

  Tobiah squeezed her hand gently. “I want you to gather together a few belongs you cherish most, so after tea we can be on our way."