Dark Lord of Geeragh

by Veronica Geoghegan Sweeney

“My dear girl, it wouldn’t have made a bit of difference; I hope I’d be more than a match for you. No, I’d have allowed this visit if you’d described yourself as possessing two heads - though I’m pleased to see you have only one - and that one very attractive. How old are you?”

  “Old, My Lord, very old indeed.”

  “Really. You still look breedable.”

  “My Lord, I must protest at these personal -!”

  “Why hasn’t old Tiarn tried to marry you off?”

  An outraged pause. “I will not answer such rudeness!”

  “We are sadly out of step with the rest of Tieranor, obviously. I had no idea that old Tiarn had married, let alone that he had a child. Are you… the only child?”

  “No,” and a touch of her anger still lingered in her voice. “I have six younger brothers.”

  “Oh. Wonderful.”

  “You sound almost disappointed, Lord Bress. What difference does it make?”

  “None!” quickly. “Although… the situation being as it is between Geeragh and Foyrr, I would have welcomed a discussion - purely informal, you understand - with one of your brothers. I would have thought…”

  His voice faded a little, and when the Princess next spoke, I could guess why. “You would have thought…what, My Lord?”

  “That the subject of a peace between your country and mine would have been best served by someone with more… diplomatic experience.”

  “I have had nearly sixty years diplomatic experience, My Lord. I have been envoy to the courts of Sowragh and Arrach on numerous occasions, and am always welcome there.”

  There was a dark silence, then Lord Bress said, “So that is why you were not seen on the road to the Southern Mountains. You entered Geeragh from the west, didn’t you? You were granted safe passage through Sowragh and Arrach and you crossed the Arrachian border to the west!” The words were flung at her almost as a challenge.

  More calmly now, she replied, “Yes, I gained permission from Queen Scia of Sowragh and King Mochta of Arrach to cross their kingdoms. They were delighted to oblige me; I am a very gifted diplomat. As well, you may wish to know, I hold degrees from the universities of Foyrr and Arrach in political science and economics. I tutor my younger brothers in these subjects...”

  “Why do you wear black? It ages you.”

  “…as the eldest of my brothers is only sixteen years old, they being children of my father’s second marriage - I beg your pardon?”

  “Why do you wear black? It makes you look like a middle-aged crow.”

  Tightly, “The same might be said, My Lord, for yourself.”

  “You are almost impertinent, Your Highness.”

  “You are certainly impertinent, My Lord.”

  Another pause, and I heard footsteps, two sets, as if moving about - circling? I could imagine it, round and about that large table…

  “Shall we go to dinner?” Lord Bress said, suddenly.

  “My Lord, I am rather tired; I would prefer to eat in my chamber this evening if it pleases you.”

  “It doesn’t.”

  Someone stamped their foot. “It is a convention to speak thus, ‘If it please My Lord’ - in truth I do not care if I please My Lord or not. I am tired, sir, and I will not attend your banquet! I will not because I do not wish to! You are a rude man and I do not trust myself to keep my temper before your courtiers and mine!”

  A silence. Lord Bress sighed. “Tomorrow, then. We will meet tomorrow, and I will show you my garden.”

  I was so amazed by this capitulation that I stopped listening. Lord Bress opened both doors wide and I tumbled in at his feet.

  But Lord Bress did not take the Princess to the Garden, not the Private Garden. He showed her almost every garden in the castle over the next two days, and I followed after him, as I had long become accustomed to doing, and while he always agreed that soon, this afternoon, tomorrow, they would visit and collect the herbs and flowers, Lord Bress did not take the Princess there.

  “He keeps promising,” I told the knights at dinner one evening, “but he never does it.”

  “That, young Fen,” Burdock leaned across the table to inform me, “is what’s called politics.”

  The other knights laughed. I did not think it was so amusing. I looked to the high table, where the Lord Bress and the Princess dined alone; they seemed to be chatting quite amicably; I had noticed that they always stayed away from the subject of the War, but there was still much that concerned them both - innovations in agriculture, taxation systems, the fishing industry… dry stuff, for me, but it was pleasant to see that the two leaders were beginning to build a rapport. It only became more interesting if more dangerous - when the talk became more personal.

  He took the Princess, with all the court, including the Twelve Princesses, to a picnic in Forest of Lirr. Aninn was delighted with it, and as if to please her, the woodland animals came out to gaze at us, quite close. That, and the faint sound of bells that told that the Shee were near, yet invisible, brought a smile not only to the Princess but even to her hitherto grim ladies-in-waiting. Only the knights fretted, seeing all the game going to waste. They were bad-tempered, lately, and suffering from indigestion, Groundsel claimed, being forced to eat state meals of vegetables and having to sneak down to the kitchens late at night for pork and venison, where the royal visitor and her court could not see them, nor smell the offending food.

  As for me, after the death of the piglet I took to the Foyrrian diet with ease, and have done so ever since. It was just one of the ways in which Aninn, Crown Princess of Foyrr, changed my life.

  Lord Bress suggested they walk along the stream that flowed from the Tears of Deirdragh, and by this time the Ladies in Black did not bother to follow. Many had struck up friendships amongst the Twelve Princesses and members of Bress’s more immediate court; I do not think they even thought twice, now, of their lady going off alone with Lord Bress. She must have spoken to them, I thought.

  But the hour grew later, and I was sent by Burdock to find them. Sometimes the Dark Lord grew terse if he were interrupted when in meetings with the Princess, so more and more I, being young and less likely to earn his displeasure, was called upon.

  I found them sitting together under a willow.

  “My Lord,” I began, after first clearing my throat loudly, “Sir Burdock wishes to remind you that the night is coming, and shouldn’t we be returning to the castle?”

  “Yes,” he said, and waved a hand in my direction, “run and tell him we’re coming, Fen.”

  But I did not, for I knew he hadn’t really heard me and would need reminding in another few minutes, so I waited at a discreet distance where I should have been out of earshot. It was an odd conversation…

  “Your grandmother died three years ago - and you’re still in mourning?”

  “Three years is nothing - must I remind you of that?”

  “And you’ll wear black for…”

  “Ten years.”

  “Foyrr sounds more and more barbarous.”

  “My Lord, that was not a well-mannered remark.” but she did not sound as cross as she would have, three days ago, or even two.

  “I suppose,” Lord Bress said carefully, taking up a stone and throwing it into the water, “if I was in Foyrr, I would do my best to acknowledge the customs of your country.”

  “Thank you, My Lord,” said the Princess, almost mockingly, then, taking in his casual glance upon the water, the hand that had negligently tossed the pebble, “You wish to say more on this matter?” A statement, rather than a question, and a guarded one, at that.

  “It would please me,” he shrugged, “if you would adapt to the customs of Geeragh and wear some other shade of dress.”

  To my surprise, Aninn picked up a pebble and threw it into the water. “I must admit,” she said, that I envy the Princesses of Geeragh their jewel-coloured gowns. It seems such an age since I…” she looked up and found him gazing at her, found his dark, hooded eyes gazing at her, and sa
id, quickly, “but my ladies would never approve. They are, each of them, well schooled in protocol and I would not offend them.”

  “Your ladies may wear whatever they wish. I give this concession in the interests of international goodwill. But in Geeragh… all healers, wizards and witches above the rank of apprentice, wear red. Do you not notice that Crorliss wears a red cloak?”

  “Yes, but I thought he simply -”

  “You are qualified?”

  “Of course! I studied with the great Suliv, who is said to be half Shee, and I gained a further diploma in High Magic from the University of -”

  “Wonderful, then you have a perfect right to wear red. In fact, here in my country, it will be expected of you. Green would suit you, and purple…”

  “My Lord, I brought only black clothing with me.”

  “I shall order new dresses made for you. I’ll give orders as soon as we return to the castle.”

  He jumped to his feet so quickly as to seem almost boyish, and held out his hand to help her rise. As she did so, she said, “My Lord, we haven’t discussed your private plant collection - nor have you taken me to see it. I can’t stress how important -”

  “My apologies, but I had not been informed until today of the detailed protocol that must be observed. We have not been honoured by a royal visit for so long, and I’ve been very remiss. My people are eager to meet you. Tomorrow there is a boat race on the bay, and the following day - by then you should have some suitable gowns - we begin a tour of Geeragh; I shall accompany you myself.”

  “But my work -”

  “It is the custom in Geeragh, My Lady. My people, my…parliament… expect it.”

  Parliament? I wasn’t sure what a parliament was. I knew Foyrr had one, but Geeragh certainly did not. Unless Lord Bress meant Crorliss and Poli, and his favourite knights, who were his friends and advisors? But while he paid attention to their opinions he certainly did not act upon their expectations.

  The Princess was by now rather agitated. “My father expected the visit to last no longer than four days. And it’s already been -”

  “We’ll write to your father, he’ll understand.”

  “He will be disturbed -”

  “He’s not the only one.”

  There was a sudden stillness to both of them. Lord Bress went on, “Let him be disturbed. It will serve him right for his audacity in sending you to me with your infernal demands and your… disturbing… demands.”

  They were, again, very still. I watched in amazement.

  The Princess said, “I do not wish to disturb you, My Lord.”

  “Then trust that all things will happen in Geeragh at their appointed time.” His voice was low, his gaze upon her face.

  “Are there…” she said, softly.

  “Yes?”

  What could they find so interesting, there in each other’s eyes? And they had not let go of each other’s hands all this time.

  “Are there some books I could be reading, some more up-to-date treaties on Geeran customs? I fear our information in Foyrr was sadly out of date…”

  “I shall instruct you personally, over the next few days.”

  And then they smiled at each other. Which was odd, for I could see nothing amusing in their words.

  Slowly, with something like reluctance, they turned in my direction, and I backed away and melted into the shadows before I could be seen. How good-natured the Dark Lord had become, I thought as I ran. How kind! How strange!

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  In my dream I was in the Princess’s coach, rocking gently back and forth as her two ladies who travelled with us pointed out various landmarks of the Geeran countryside. One of the ladies turned to me and started to speak in a very deep voice, and I was so shocked that I woke.

  I was curled up on a hard settle against the wall of the study, and I could hear the Dark Lord speaking, his voice tired, but agitated. We had been on a wonderful but gruelling eight day tour and had come back to a day of meetings and decision-making. Now everyone had gone, it was only the Dark Lord and Poli, and the remains of a cold meal and a few bottles of wine.

  It was Lord Bress who had woken me by bursting out suddenly, “Then what do I do! If I allow her into the Garden, she’ll find the plants that she wants, and then she’ll leave.”

  I rolled over on the settle to face the wall and closed my eyes again, wanting to lose myself in sleep. But Poli’s gentle voice reminded, “She’ll have to return home soon, My Lord.” I drifted off for an instant, but came awake again for, “Or is that what’s bothering you?”

  “No! Yes! Idon’t know! Damn the stars, I don’t know anything anymore!”

  “You could,” calmly from Poli, “show her the Garden, as she wishes, then ask her to stay, My Lord.”

  “Ask her? And have her know how I feel? Ask her, and have her laugh in my face?”

  “My Lord, if you really want the Princess…”

  “I don’t want her. Damn it, what would I do I do with her? She doesn’t belong here - she mustn’t have to suffer…” His voice became muffled, as if he had put his face down in his hands.

  Poli’s tone betrayed great concern. “My Lord…” she began, and I heard her move forward.

  His voice was still muffled, “She mustn’t know.”

  Puzzled, almost frightened, Poli went on, “Know what, My Lord?”

  And his voice was suddenly louder, stronger, as if he’d raised his head to speak to her directly, “These past eight days, Poli - I saw my country for the first time in… I saw it through her eyes! Oh, the people came out to wave, and cheer - but the poverty of them - the women, the few children, the fewer men, most of them old, and all of them resentful, their eyes filled with hate as they looked at me, even as they cheered -”

  “My Lord, My Lord, you’re tired, that’s all - how long is it, now, since you’ve slept? You must…”

  “They loved her! The people loved her! I didn’t think - how could I be so stupid that I didn’t think! That devious old Tiarn sends me a marriageable daughter - and all I could think of was how to manipulate her, how best to press for her country’s surrender and bleed them for reparation!

  “But the people! The common people! They looked at her and they saw a queen! They see an alliance between myself and the house of Foyrr, and an end to the War - you could see their minds working as they watched us - see the hope that was on their faces!”

  “Then don’t you think -”

  “And the poverty! And the fields lying fallow! And the shops in the villages, rows of little shops boarded and empty, their roofs falling in. She saw it! She knew what it meant - I could read the sadness in her eyes, the reproach wahen she looked at me…” Again the voice was muffled.

  “You were mistaken, My Lord. Princess Aninn is a mature woman who understands the cost of war. Do you think her country is any different?”

  “It is. It is. She doesn’t boast about it, but she tells me things - I tell you I could hardly bear it. Her ladies are brainless and without tact - I’ve heard them tut-tutting to each other, ‘How differently things are done back home in our dear Foyrr,’” he said this in a high, prim voice that almost made me laugh aloud; Poli did.

  Lord Bress sighed heavily. I heard his footsteps approach where I lay. He spoke above me. I kept my eyes closed. “The boy,” he said, quietly, “thought it a great adventure. He didn’t see anything wrong with Geeragh.” He turned towards Poli. “Don’t you see? He’s so young, he’s grown to accept things the way they are; this broken, impoverished Geeragh is all he knows.” He moved away once more.

  There was a long silence that became, gradually, awkward. Then Lord Bress spoke, his voice so muffled I could not hear the words.

  Nor could Poli. Apologetically, hesitantly, she said, “I’m sorry, My Lord…?”

  “I said, I can’t remember everything myself. It was so very long ago - more than three hundred years since I came to the throne - and there were… unpleasant memories. My mind clutches at t
hem - and they’re gone. But they’re grom spectres, Poli. I don’t know if I really want to catch them, to face up to them.” There was almost a smile in his voice, albeit a bitter one. “Three hundred years, Poli. A man can forget a great deal in three hundred years.”

  “I’m sure, sir. One thinks it would be so, sir.”

  He crossed to her, and I think he might have kissed her cheek - and then he left the room. His tread was slow and heavy, such as I had never heard before. It was the tread of an old man.

  As soon as the door was shut I was on my feet, a little dizzy, but already taking steps across the floor to follow him. The torches in the sconses were buring low, and the room was deeply shadowed; I glanced back, intending to smile at Poli as I went - but then I slowed, for she was sitting at the great table, her plump face in her hands. When I said her name, she did not immediately move.

  “Poli,” I moved closer. What is it about the Private Garden that he won’t share with the Princess? Why are the plants so special?”

  I had foolishly moved too close; she did a very unexpected but very female thing and pulled me into an embrace. “Oh, poor wee lamb,” she said,and her face was wet and slippery with her tears. I did not know what to do, so tried not to stiffen too much and hoped that she would stop soon, which, being a sensible woman, she did.

  She let me go and wiped her face with her apron. “There is so much power there,” she sniffled. “I can tell you this because everyone knows. But no one knows how to use it. The plants came from Iera, thousands of years ago, with the Race of Heroes who landed here, in the first bitter winter, and called this land Geeragh. It means ‘winter’ in the Old Language. In spring, they moved west into Arrach, and in summer, settlements were made towards the south-west, in Sowragh. by then it was a kind of joke amongst our first leaders, calling the land after the seasons in which they were settled. It was autumn before the mountains were crossed into the south-east, And they called it Foyrr - in the Old Language it means Autumn. The legends says that the royal leaders had stored the plants here in the garden while they went exploring and dividing Tieranor amongst themselves, and so busy were they that they never came back for their share, and gradually, the rulers forgot their uses, forgot their need of them. And here in Geeragh the herbs and flowers remain.”