Respectant

by Florian Armaselu

  “I have a surprise for you.” Eduin smiled at Saliné when they met in the middle of the hall; he had been searching for her. “Please come with me.”

  She panicked, and the tension in her body seemed almost to constrict her breathing. No, Eduin is even more ... different. She thought of Bucur again, shook her head, to force his evil memory away, and followed Eduin. Saliné never tried to compare them with Codrin – he was unique to her, and they lived in kind of parallel world suspended between their beloved cherry tree, books and her lyre. They did not live in a court. In the orangery, she worked hard to look enthusiastic about the beautiful scent of the delicate flowers, and she almost physically felt Eduin’s delight.

  While she touched the flowers, Eduin stood very close to her, looking over her shoulder. He was tempted to rest his lips on the nape of her neck, where her hair, lifted into that pony tail, revealed the pale skin. Reluctantly, he restrained himself. They stayed there for more than fifteen minutes, talking in pleasant intimacy. Strangely, his presence calmed her, and Saliné left on his arm, all dimples and bright green eyes, her long hair bouncing as she moved under Eduin’s scrutiny. She offered him almost half of the dances in the two last suites.

  Caught in the effervescence of the dances and the chatter that followed, she forgot about Arnauld, who did not return to the hall. For the first time, Saliné discovered what a court really meant. She was too young when she left Midia, and Severin, while not much smaller than Laurden, did not have a real court. Mohor did not care about such things, and there were no people of value to entertain Saliné. Bucur was always methodical and calculated, and a bad character. Arnauld, for all his wrong steps, was still a normal young man, and Eduin was an even better one. Her mind absorbed by the party, Saliné looked distractedly around the hall, looking for both of them. She was never alone; five more young men surrounded her with their well-mannered attention. Saliné also had her first glimpse of courtship that evening. Codrin was her ‘brother’, then her love, but he did not court her, the relationship simply blossomed between them. She let the young men of Laurden swarm around her, and encouraged them, both deliberately and unintentionally. Caught in the celebration, she did not realize that she was more mature and intelligent than the young men around her, even though some were five or six years older. She simply led them along, except for Eduin, who was the only one who matched her for wit, and their encounter was delightful. She had decided to enjoy the party, and she did.

  Discreetly, from near or far, Eduin watched her through the whole evening – the party here did not stop at sunset, as was the habit in Severin. He did not chase away his competitors, and tried not to force himself too much on her. He saw her delight, the flashing light in her green eyes, and the smile of excitement playing on her lips, the deliberate grace and lightness of her movements. From time to time, eyes closed, Eduin imagined things. With her.

  Late in the night, Saliné went in her room, tired, but filled with a strange exuberance that she had never felt before. There was also an even subtler undercurrent: though Eduin’s mother had died five years before, the S’Laurdens were a normal, joyful family, as she had had in Midia, before her father was killed, and they were forced to leave their home, into exile. Their stay in the hunting house had its good moments too, but it was marked by the ubiquitous fear of an unstable future, and in Severin all her dreams had been shattered. Deep in her heart, she craved to be part of such a family. I wish Codrin and Mother could be here. Her last thought, before she fell asleep.

  The next morning, Arnauld discovered that he had an urgent errand and left Laurden when most people were still in their beds. Hearing this, Saliné felt both relieved and uneasy – and perhaps sad, as she guessed that he had left Laurden because of her – until Foy sent a page to request her presence.

  “Please sit,” Foy said, his face serious, but a faint glimmer in his eyes. “Now tell me what happened when you first visited my orangery.” He waited patiently, but Saliné did not know what to say. “To help your memory, you were not alone. Arnauld of the broken nose was there with you.” He could no longer hide his mirth.

  Coyly, Saliné smiled at him. “I think he got too close to the flowers and fell against the trunk of the tree. There was no reason for him to leave Laurden. He was entertaining, and he taught me to dance. I will miss him. Did he really break his nose?”

  “No, I was just playing with you. Some flowers know how to defend themselves. This story will stay between us and the servant who warned me that you were in … danger. He could not have been more wrong. Not even Eduin knows about this.” Foy stood up, came to her and took her hand in his. “You are indeed a rare flower, Vio,” he said and kissed her hand. “I think Eduin wants to talk to you now.”

  With the same mysterious look he had the evening while taking her to the orangery, Eduin led her into another room she had never seen before. He opened an armoire and a long row of dresses came into view. “I am sorry that we were a bit unobservant and made you only one dress. In Laurden, the Winter Solstice Party runs for five days. We know how to party in the south. Please take whichever dresses you like.”

  Saliné looked at him, then at the dresses, and found that they would indeed fit her, with some minor changes, then again at Eduin, who was smiling. “To whom do they belong?”

  “They were Mother’s.”

  “I apologize for asking. Eduin, I will survive fine with one dress, I am not that fussed about them.”

  He said nothing, just took one dress, and pressed it against her body. “Dark red, it suits you well.”

  “What would your father say if I...?”

  “He suggested it; I had no idea about this wardrobe. Take whatever you want. Martha will come and make whatever adjustments are necessary.” He placed an arm behind her shoulders, and pushed her gently, closer to those tempting clothes.

  She looked once more at him, and then picked three dresses: the one Eduin gave her first, a pale yellow one and a black one. Without knowing it, she smiled each time she took a new one, while Eduin watched her.

  After five days full of parties and joy, Saliné woke late in the morning. She felt lazy and not hungry at all. I will skip breakfast today. The room was warm, and a log was singing in the fireplace, spreading a pleasant scent of resin. Matilde came in the morning to restart the fire. She left the bed and moved toward the window, leaning forward against the sill. A sun of impossible brightness was almost at the roof of the sky, its vivid blue as impossible as the brilliance of the large yellow orb. Fresh snow was glittering all over Laurden, almost blinding her, yet she forced her eyes to stay open, absorbing a vibrant world she had never seen before. There was frigid cold too. Warmed by the sun playing on her skin through the window, and by the wood burning the fireplace, Saliné did not feel it. I am happy. Memories of the past days came to her, all at once, fighting for her attention. Like any woman with a trace of Light, Saliné had a good visual memory, and she was able to recall with surprising clarity most of the things that had happened to her. For half an hour, she drowned herself in a collection of dances, sparks of brilliant conversations and jokes. And even in that weird and pleasant moment of closeness with Arnauld. The memories came and went at their own will and, slowly, Arnauld’s figure morphed into Codrin, then Jara’s face came to her. Saliné had been humming one of her favorite songs, and now she felt tears sting her eyes. Her throat was tight and she couldn’t sing any more. Mother is still a prisoner, she thought bitterly, and all her happiness vanished as if it never had existed. Spring is not so far off, and I have to prepare for leaving Laurden. Valeni is not that far and, from there, aunt Agatha will help me to reach Severin. Codrin... Thinking of him brought a bit of calm to her mind.

  Chapter 26 – Saliné

  When the last month of the winter was almost spent, Saliné found the courage to ask Foy and Eduin to help her leave for Valeni.

  “The roads are still unsafe,” Eduin said, his voice suddenly edgy. “We don’t want to put you in dange
r. The earliest time for safe passage to Valeni is in the middle of spring. I am sorry to delay you, and I am ready to make amends by taking you for a ride. It’s sunny, and soon the snow which fell last night will become dirty. It would be a pity not to see the white valley from the mountains.”

  She nodded awkwardly, and they went out together. It was her first ride outside snowy Laurden, and after a while, she found herself caught up in the beautiful landscape. Eduin was right; the endless pure white had both a cheering and romantic appearance. Feeling the power of the coming spring, the chill seemed cupped within the valley, pressed down by the white mountains, as if trying to hide from the radiant sun. They ate together at a small inn and drank spicy hot wine, which warmed their blood. Outside the inn, Saliné made ready to mount, when a snowball crashed into her face. It was fluffy, and did not hurt, but she remained stunned for a few moments. It was Eduin’ laughter which woke her up, and she started to chase him, throwing snowball after snowball. Most of them missed the target, but even when he was hit, he still laughed. He jumped down a slope, and slid on his back all the way down on the deep snow. Like a child, Saliné followed him and inadvertently landed on him, before he could move away.

  Eduin gasped from the shock, but then only laughed louder. “You attacked the Seigneur of Laurden. There will be a price to pay for that.” He filled his hand with snow and rubbed it in her face.

  This time, Saliné was no longer stunned and paid him back. She was still sitting on his chest, like she was in the saddle, and she had the advantage. When the laughter shook the breath from them, they lay down in the snow, her head leaning on his extended arm.

  “You have never played snow games before,” Eduin said, and pulled her closer, her head resting now on his shoulder. It was so natural that Saliné did not object.

  “There was not much snow where I lived.” And not many children to play with. Strange that we did not play like this in Severin. The snow in Severin was thin and the land lacked the wide white spaces here. Half of Laurden was a land of pastures more than forests. And in the winter, Severin rarely saw the sun. Here, it was as sunny as it was cold.

  “Look.” He pointed abruptly, up into the sky.

  “It’s that an eagle? I never saw one before. It looks so big.”

  “Southern eagles are larger. They can reach twelve feet in wingspan. Some of them can carry a goat or a sheep. Or a child.”

  “No, don’t say it.” Saliné covered his mouth with her hand. “I don’t want them to carry off a child.”

  “Do you know what we need now?”

  “Hot spicy wine,” she laughed, as she felt the cold seeping into her.

  “Yes.” Eduin laughed too, and standing up, he stretched his arms to pull her up, and it was almost dark when they returned home.

  ***

  With the first days of spring, change came to Laurden. The first chain of mountains around the city was not tall, and, from the ocean, warm winds chased the cold away. The last snow was already three weeks old, and now the first rain came. It was always the same here; today was winter, tomorrow was spring. This year, spring came in the same abrupt way, two weeks before the equinox, and Saliné’s thoughts went even more often to Severin and Codrin. She started to prepare for her departure.

  She made an inventory of her money and thought she had enough to reach Valeni, but her first difficulty was to leave Laurden. She compared it with Severin and found that Foy was a much more organized man than Mohor. The gates were better maintained, and there were patrols too, keeping peace in the city, though Laurden was not a dangerous place. If they allow me to leave, everything will be easy. If not... Why would not they not let me go? I have to be prepared for both cases. In the worst case, my main problem is leaving the palace, she thought. There was a gate there too, manned by five guards. The gate I can handle, but how can I get my mare? I can’t leave on foot. Then I have to pass through the main gate. Without Foy’s or Eduin’s approval, I can’t sneak out through the main gate alone. The small gate is even more difficult; few people use it, and I will attract more attention. I will need a diversion. She decided to gather more information.

  ***

  Each spring, Foy and his son made a tour of their fiefdom, to see how people had fared over the winter. There were two differences this year, though; Foy went alone and two weeks earlier than usual. After three days on the road and bad weather, going from one village to another, he cursed himself and his idea of going earlier. The soldiers said nothing, but a simple look at their faces betrayed their feelings and hidden curses.

  On the fourth day, Foy finally came to the place he had wanted to see from the beginning, Passin village, which was higher in the Pirenes Mountains. There were more villages scattered even deeper in the mountains, like Valis, but they were small, and their wardens usually came to Passin to meet the Seigneur.

  The large village was finally in sight, and S’Laurden wiped his wet palms on his clothes. It did not help. The steady drizzle, which had persisted for the last two days, had soaked through every layer of clothing he wore. And from his helmet, water dripped into his eyes. Pale and larger than usual, the sun, wreathed in thick patches of mist, soared far above. He suppressed a groan at the stiffness of his limbs, and pushed his horse faster through the mud. I am getting older...

  In Passin, they stopped at the only inn, and he decided to pay for the soldiers’ wine, to stop their faces getting any longer. Warned by earlier couriers, three of the four wardens were in the inn already, and S’Laurden went to a separate chamber to talk with each of them. He finished quickly with the first two, and then it was the turn of Guiscard, the warden of Castis and Valis, to meet the Seigneur.

  “Sit,” Foy said, and gestured toward the carafe of wine. He sipped some wine too, but his glass was still almost full. “What’s new in Castis? Did the Knight of Silon arrive there?”

  “Yes, he came later than we expected him, in mid-autumn, with his son, a young lady and nine more soldiers. A storm had delayed his ship. As I already informed you, five soldiers came three months earlier.”

  “That’s quite a lot of soldiers for a small place like Castis. Do you know why he needs them?”

  “He did not say, but he acts like a hunted man, and...” Guiscard sipped some wine for the first time, “his son, Claudin, was killed. It happened during the night before his wedding.”

  “You said something about a girl. Poor thing, to lose her husband like that.”

  “Well, Sir, it was she who killed him.”

  Foy accepted the news with a catlike blink of his hazel eyes. “Do you know why?”

  “From the beginning, I had the impression that the girl had been kidnapped. On road from Sebastos to Castis, she was watched by two guards, day and night. The priest had the same impression, and he did not like the Knights, especially the son.”

  “That’s a way of saying that you dislike them too.”

  “I am the warden of Castis, it’s not my task to judge my Knight,” Guiscard said, letting a wry smile cross his lips.

  S’Laurden smiled back in tacit agreement. “Did you talk to her?”

  “Not much, but at the crossroads where the road to Castis divides, she asked me where the main road led.”

  “What happened to her?”

  “She left Castis during the night, just before the Mother Storm came.”

  “I see,” S’Laurden said, thoughtfully. “She must have a name, this girl.”

  “Vio. She looked a fine lady, educated, polite, proper speaking, but Sir Bernier was not very communicative about her. Understandable after what happened. I learned more from his soldiers though, after I poured enough wine into them. Some things were contradictory, but I have a kind of story now.” Guiscard took his time and sipped some more wine.

  You like to talk, Guiscard, and you want me to ask. Foy smiled inside, even an intelligent man like Guiscard had his small flaws. “Do you know who she really is?”

  “I’m not certain, but I think that h
er father was the Seigneur of Severin, a place far to the north, close to Arad. He was killed by Sir Bernier, who took over the Seigneury.”

  “I know where Arad is on the map, but I have never heard of Severin. What happened to her mother?”

  “She disappeared, and no one knows if she is still alive. Probably not. At the end of the last summer, someone else took Severin – the Knight of Cleuny, who was a family friend of the former Signora of Severin, the one who vanished. Sir Bernier managed to escape and took Vio with him, against her will. From what I understood, she was promised to another man, but his son wanted her instead. It’s a strange thing, but none of the soldiers were happy to speak about that man. I have no idea why. Perhaps he is dangerous.”

  I have to send a courier to Pierre, in Tolosa. Maybe he knows something. “Did Vio escape?”

  “Sir Bernier set off after her the next morning, and the last time I saw her was on the road out of the high mountains. One of those long hairpin curves. You are face to face with someone, a hundred paces from you, but you need to ride for three more hours to meet.”

  “Should I understand that Bernier did not get her back?”

  “That’s right, but I can’t tell if she escaped the Mother Storm. I hope she did, Vio was a fine lady.”

  “Anything else worth knowing, Guiscard?”

  “Sir Bernier wants to rebuild the walls and even make a new one to surround the barn too.”