FION'S DAUGHTER

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FION'S DAUGHTER Page 21

by Brenna Lyons


  The Church council decreed that a woman should have to seek a doctor to reverse gola poisoning to make the stigma of causing miscarriage limit the number of women who would seek that as a quick answer to an unplanned conception. Ro argued that the women should have the right to terminate a pregnancy for many reasons beyond simply mother’s sickness, which is why it was still legal for the woman healers to make the gola berry tea.

  He surrendered on the battle of keeping the secret of Triclum with the doctors. The salve that he used to ease his guilt was the construction of clinics near all the major villages, all of which carried Triclum. The women who suffered mother’s sickness would have the care he promised, though he ultimately broke his vow to return the knowledge to the healers.

  Ro sighed, looking out over what was once Gidlore. That was one vow he made to Della that he kept. He built the palace he promised her on the site of the priestesses’ last stand. Forevermore, this would be the site of the Magden seat of power.

  There was no chance of losing it now. With Jurel’s death, the Lengar fell into chaos. They still attacked Magden land, and Ro still battled them back, intent on a unified and peaceful future for his daughter and her daughters, but the Lengar were also in a perpetual state of civil war over leadership of their race.

  In the center of the gardens, where the priestesses’ circle once stood, was a meditation clearing ringed with benches of the sacred green stone. In the center stood a statue of the great Goddess Herself, etched from the cornerstone of what was once her tower, the hardest stone on Kegin, the same stone that made up the gate pillars of this palace.

  Ro bowed to Her image reverently. Fion had been nothing but kind in granting Ro’s wish, the wish of a son of her own mate. She’d given Ro the gift of Della’s love. His only prayer was that Fion would grant him one final wish — the right to stand by Della’s side when he passed to the soul’s reward, the right to enter the great gates despite the many vows he’d failed where Della was concerned.

  Ro tensed as the screaming started, grasping his sword and vaulting through the door into the corridor. He sprinted for the open door to Riella’s rooms, cursing the robe that pulled against his legs as he ran.

  “Out,” Lera shouted. “Leave us.”

  “Quiet,” a man barked.

  Riella’s screams intensified, and Ro barreled into the room, his sword high and a battle cry heralding from deep in his chest. Two of his guards faced off against Lera. The woman healer stood between the soldiers and the two girls huddled together on the bed.

  The guards fell back from him, dropping their drawn weapons to the floor in confusion. Lera stayed her ground, red-faced, her eyes flashing in fury. Unlike his guards, Lera knew no fear of Ro.

  “It was not we who did this,” one of the guards stammered.

  “I said leave us,” Lera shouted again.

  Ro shook his head, lowering his sword and waving his men away. “Leave us,” he growled with an unspoken warning not to go far. If he learned this was the fault of his guards, there would be punishment for it.

  The guards scrambled away, one without retrieving his weapon. The door closed behind them, and Riella tapered off into sobs.

  Ro settled on the bed next to her, dropping his sword to the floor, and Riella released her hold on Irin to throw herself on Ro’s chest. He folded her in his arms, brushing the tangled locks from her eyes.

  “What caused this?” he whispered. “Who frightened her?”

  Irin paused with one leg on the floor across from him. “A dream,” she offered. “Then the guards came in.” She swallowed hard.

  “The guards terrified her,” Lera fumed. “Any fool could see that, but they refused to leave.”

  “Why?” Ro asked.

  “I do not know. Perhaps you should ask them that yourself, Ro Ti, since they do not respect my judgment when it comes to Riella.”

  He shook his head, rubbing soothing circles over Riella’s back. This was an old argument and one he would take up with his guards again, but it wasn’t what he meant to ask. “No. Why did they terrify her? Riella has never feared her guards before. She has never feared anyone until tonight.” Much as I wish she would sometimes, this was not what I envisioned. I wanted caution, not terror, from her.

  Riella’s chubby fist closed on his robe, and she burrowed her cheek to his chest. “They came to take me away from you,” she whispered. “They came to take me away like they did before.”

  Ro stared into her tear-streaked face, his heart pounding. Her deep choc eyes were wide and earnest, her terror real.

  “Before?” he asked calmly, praying he was wrong.

  “They took me and my mother from you. The Lengar.”

  Ro shot a hard look at Lera, but the woman healer shook her head in confusion. Riella had never been told the story of her birth. For five years, she’d been spared that ugly truth for fear of this reaction.

  He looked to Irin. The girl stood, her eyes as wide and frightened as Riella’s were, wringing her hands nervously.

  Ro nodded. “Who did this, Irin?” He asked it gently, knowing the child still feared Ro’s wrath where Riella was concerned.

  “The guard,” she began, looking to her mother for support. “The old one at the stables told her.” She shook her head slowly.

  Riella eased up her father’s chest and wound her hands around his neck beneath his hair. “They will come for me again,” she croaked through fresh sobs.

  Ro kissed her forehead gently. “He told you that?”

  Riella nodded.

  Irin cleared her throat. “He told Riella that is why she must never outrun her guards when she rides with Benir.”

  Ro grimaced at that. The fact that it was true was immaterial. The fact that her knack of escaping the sight of her guards stopped Ro’s heart too often was immaterial. The guard would be punished for frightening her this way.

  He met Lera’s eyes. “Get me my bride’s dagger and hair clips,” he instructed.

  Lera paled, but she nodded and left the room. Ro sighed. He had wanted Riella to be spared this part of her existence, but she was a Magden princess, and perhaps there was no escaping all of it.

  Ro nodded, as Lera handed him the items he’d requested wrapped in a length of green silin. “Leave us,” he whispered. “This is between Riella and myself.”

  Lera and Irin left, closing the door to their adjoining room behind them.

  Ro took a deep breath, calming his pounding heart. “Riella, look at me.”

  She looked at him curiously.

  “I will tell you about your mother,” he offered.

  Riella wiped at the last stubborn tears, glancing to the silin bundle then back to him. Ro opened the silin and drew out the hair clips, placing them in Riella’s hair.

  “Your mother was a great queen.” Riella had heard that of Della before. It was one of the few things she’d been told of her mother: how gracious and kind Della was, the deep concern she had for her people and the empathy she had for their pain.

  Ro smoothed his daughter’s hair, meeting her eyes. “Della was the last of her race.”

  “Her race?” Riella asked. “She wasn’t Magden?” She scratched at her nose, wrinkling it in confusion.

  He shook his head. “She was the last of Fion’s Daughters. Her name was Mother Deliya. She was a warrior priestess, and you are her true heir. Della was a healer, a woman who held the knowledge and magic of the Goddess herself. She saved Novin’s life, and she healed me more than once.”

  Riella nodded, intent on the story now and her fear momentarily forgotten, as was the way with young children. “I have heard that she was very beautiful.”

  Ro smiled. “My Della had hair like the summer sun and eyes as green as the gown you wear. I had never seen such a beauty, and Fion was merciful enough to grant me Della’s love.”

  “But, the Lengar took us and killed her.” Her lip trembled at that.

  Ro sighed and pulled the abinatine from the silin. He hesitated, s
taring at it sadly, remembering when he held it last. This is right. A son of this age would be gifted his first dagger. Surely, Della would have trained Riella soon. He settled the sheathed blade in her hand.

  Riella took the jeweled dagger, staring at the sacred pattern of emi bead in awe.

  “That is called an abinatine. It is the sacred blade of one of Fion’s High Priestesses. It is used for only three things.”

  “What things?” Riella asked breathlessly.

  “In her healing. When she takes a true mate. And to kill a worthy opponent.” Ro closed his fist over hers. “As Mother Deliya’s true heir, this is yours, the sign of who and what you are.”

  She furrowed her brow in confusion.

  Ro continued before she could question him. “You are my true heir, but you are also your mother’s. You are the last of Fion’s Daughters, protected by Mag and Fion alike. You will always be safe.”

  “But, the guard said the Lengar—”

  He shushed her and smiled, hiding his fury at the guard studiously. That fool will be lucky if I let him live. “Della fought with that blade when Jurel tried to take her from my home. She escaped more traps than a buck wariken. I have seen Della tame a wild jaglin and take a warrior’s life.” Ro ran his fingers over the tattoo on her thigh through her green silin gown. “Let the Lengar come for you in force,” he laughed. “The daughter of Ro Ti and Mother Deliya will not be taken again. Do you know why?”

  Riella smiled and unsheathed her mother’s abinatine. “Because I am the last of Fion’s Daughters?” she asked brightly, with a child’s innocence that made Ro’s heart ache.

  He nodded. It was the best hope he could give her. Riella was a child. Ro’s plans and safeguards were meaningless to her. He sheathed her blade. “Use this cautiously. Della’s most deadly weapon was not this bit of metal. Her most deadly weapon was her mind.” That much was true. “She did not take unnecessary chances,” he lied. Riella was a child. There were some stories Ro would not tell her for her own protection.

  “Tell me about my mother,” Riella begged.

  Ro stretched out on her bed and drew his daughter into his arms, remembering the first months after Della died when Riella slept in his arms every night, before Lera convinced him that she should move to the cradle that lay next to his bed. Seeing Riella when he woke was the only thing that made Della’s loss bearable to him, beginning with those long nights on his pallet after Novin gave her body to the pyre.

  He swallowed a bitter lump, thinking about happier times. “I found her alone in her home, the last of her people, though she did not know it at the time.”

  “Was Deliya frightened?” Riella asked solemnly, touching his face with her tiny fingers.

  Ro laughed heartily. “Della feared nothing. Della feared no one. She came at me in her armor and called me a spineless coward.”

  She giggled and buried her face in his chest. “She did not,” Riella decided. “No one would dare call Ro Ti a coward.”

  Ro laughed with her. “She did. On Mag’s honor, she called me a coward.”

  Riella curled her arms under her cheek, the abinatine gripped in her hand. “Did you love her very much?”

  He sobered, nodding. “Yes. I will always love Della, as I will always love you.”

  “I love you, Ro my father.” It was an old joke between them, begun when Riella tried to copy the formal address Donic used sometimes. She yawned widely and rubbed her fist in her closed eye. “She gave her life to save me,” she mumbled.

  “Yes.” He stroked his hand through Riella’s hair, so much like his own. “Della was a priestess. She would have given her life in defense of any woman or child in her care, but her own most especially. She was the source of the Goddess of Love. Della was love embodied on the face of the world, and she loved us most of all.”

  Ro talked on, that night and many nights after, but Riella didn’t hear much more about her mother that night. She was already lost in sleep. Ro continued to speak anyway. He had waited too long to fulfill this vow. Riella would know Della through his eyes, and perhaps Ro would recapture a moment of that time.

  EPILOGUE

  Abrin 14th, Ti 10-483

  “A few moments more,” Irin soothed Riella.

  Ro watched nervously as Tolerin laid healing kisses on Riella’s neck. The young prince’s bare chest was pressed to her back and his silin-clad legs cradled hers, his big hands splayed over her spasming womb through the silin sheet.

  Riella nodded, her brow beaded in sweat. “My mother did this without healing?” she asked in disbelief.

  Lera smiled. “It was unforgettable. Mother Deliya bore up in silence for hours to keep Jurel away — then out of pride. Her enemy would never hear her scream or beg.”

  “How could she?” Riella panted, groaning her thanks as Tol massaged the bundle of nerves in her lower back.

  Irin eased her hands around the babe’s head, helping the shoulders pass. “You were early, small compared to this young hottel you carry.”

  Ro held his breath, as the child slid free into Irin’s hands, coated in the slick of Riella’s fluids. Riella sighed in relief, sinking into her husband’s arms.

  Tol kissed her brow. “Now, that was a battle,” he whispered.

  Riella chuckled. “No. Battle will be you accepting the mother’s fast.”

  Ro laughed at that. It was well known that Tol had little self-control where Riella was concerned. Ro remembered those days, the days when Della carried his child — and before she did. He was glad his daughter found a true mate, a mate her mother would approve of, a mate who would last a lifetime.

  Lera cleaned and wrapped the babe, while Irin delivered the birth parts and checked for damage, pronouncing Riella well.

  Lera handed the babe to Riella, smiling. “Your daughter,” she announced.

  Tol beamed, his smile wide as he touched his daughter’s dark curls. “Deliya,” he breathed.

  “Deliya?” Ro asked, confused.

  Riella darkened, shooting Ro a nervous look that set his battle awareness on high alert. She nodded. “Yes. Her name is Deliya.”

  “To honor Riella’s mother,” Tol explained a little too quickly.

  Ro crossed his arms over his chest and cleared his throat, waiting for what was sure to be a very interesting story. Riella was, after all, her mother’s daughter.

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Brenna Lyons lives in Haverhill, MA with her husband, three children, and a zoo of pets. She was born and raised in the Hazelwood/Glenwood area of Pittsburgh, PA.

  She is a poet and novelist who has a poem in the Treble Heart release of Full Moon Inheritance by Jacqueline Elliott. Brenna has fourteen completed novels. In addition to her eXtasy Books, she has two with her other publisher, Treble Heart Books. Brenna has another six novels on submission with two more houses and ten more in draft.

  She enjoys the Society for Creative Anachronism and is a member of such groups as Broad Universe, EPIC and EPPRO.

  Brenna holds a BS in Accounting and a Certificate of Computer Programming. Why? An auditing teacher commented that she would either “make the perfect auditor or the perfect thief,” and she had been writing for eleven years with little professional training — in effect, a thief of attention by misdirection.

  GLOSSARY OF KEEN TERMS USED IN THE BOOK

  NOTE: Keen is a lyrical language, and minor changes in pitch and inflection denote a slightly different word in the language. See next page for the Keen calendar.

  Abinatine– the sacred dagger of one of Fion’s Priestesses: used in her healing, to take the life of a worth opponent, and when she takes a mate

  Ag–––– according to, by

  Auguren–— a disinfectant used in the paste with Felgren to sterilize skin and equipment

  Burgel––— a small blue flower that blooms late in winter/early in spring as the last of the snow recedes

  Chel–––- feet

  Chidan––- beloved

  Choc–––- a
soft, brown color

  Cimmeg–— a heavy spice like cinnamon and vanilla mixed that strengthens the blood and aids in healing

  Diten––– tradition

  Dolgen––- a yellow/orange scrubby plant which yields a powerful aphrodisiac; sucre sweet, it can be ingested in a tea; for the most powerful and immediate potency, it is mixed in oil and applied to genitalia

  E––––— at

  Eir–––– an evergreen tree that gives a thick sugary sap which is edible and used for bottling fruits

  Emi bead–— a soft (consistency of amber) clear emerald green stone usually shaped into beads and used for decoration

  Felgren–– a choc plant with antibiotic properties; can be ingested in a tea, used in a paste with Auguren to sterilize skin and equipment, and burned to create acidic fumes to ward off dangerous animals and enemies

  Fion–––- Keen queen of the gods; Goddess of love, balance, and mercy

  Fion’s Children/Daughters

  ––- the matriarchal priestess race wiped out by the Lengar in Ti 10-452

  Garigol–– a powerful sedative and muscle relaxant derived from the leaves of the tree of the same name; causes confusion and lethargy followed by sleep in higher doses; Jaglin crave it and will attack to steal stores of it, so it is stored in airtight containers

  Geela––– a cliff-diving, carrion eating bird with gray and black feathers

  Gelgrin––- a confection made of Eir sap, lizor berries, implin, and cream

  Gola–––- a plant that resembles mistletoe; its pink berries produce a poison that induces miscarriage and kills if left untreated; used to treat mother’s sickness, it is treated with Triclum; a pernicious bush

  Han–––— safely

  Hi––––- prince, Your/His Highness

  Hottel––— a horse-like creature (mare pony-size and war-buck Clydesdale size)

  Hypocil–– a metal pen-shaped device that injects medications through the dermis without an open site or risk of infection

  Implin––— a Kegin fruit akin to a Bosc pear; the core is a strong stimulant; the main ingredient in lover’s repast

 

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