“She smiled at him, in the same, soft way she had smiled at all the gifts Hugh had left for her. She sat down beside him and said, ‘I told my father you would be along today to ask for my hand.’
“I thought Hugh was going to swallow his tongue, he looked so shocked, but then he just nodded. ‘How did you know?’ he asked her.
“Alanna took his rough hand in her own soft one. ‘I knew from the moment I first saw you. I just had to find a way to get you to notice me. I knew you liked to walk in the garden, and so I came. I thought that I might as well work on your joining clothes while you worked up the courage to speak to me.’
“Hugh’s eyes widened. ‘My joining clothes! That’s what you’ve been working on?’
“Alanna took Hugh’s other hand and tugged him to his feet. ‘Of course. You must have them to join with me, and I don’t think I want to wait. We were always meant to be together, and I am anxious to start our forever.’
“I’d never seen anything like it before. Lord Hugh allowed himself to be led away. I didn’t follow, so I don’t know how he ever managed to get the words out to ask for permission to join with Alanna. My guess is that she did most of the talking, but one way or another, they were joined within the month.”
One story after another followed, and as the afternoon sun began to sink in the sky, they arrived at Hugh’s funeral pyre. He was dressed richly, and rested on a bed of pine boughs, carefully removed from the tree Cyrus had planted so long ago. Though he had died nearly two months earlier, he looked as though he was merely asleep. Carly was responsible for that. Normally there would have been no practical way to return him all the way to Maj, and there would have been a sea burial, but Dearra had refused to release him. She had thrown herself across his lifeless body until Carly took pity on her and encased Hugh in a frozen chrysalis of ice.
One achingly sweet soprano voice rose Heavenward, eventually joined by others until the air was thick with their song:
The sun dips low as day’s end nears.
Darkness closes in; you journey into the final night.
We cannot hear you; your voice has been taken from our chorus.
Your candle has gone out, and we grieve the lost light.
Still, you are with us.
Time claims us all and calls us home.
Heartbeats are numbered; now our hearts beat for you.
Your spirit goes where we cannot yet follow; you walk a path apart.
You are never really gone; your soul is only made new.
Still, we are with you.
Our voices call out for you to hear.
Your breath is in the trees; your eyes in every star.
We look for you in the faces of friends; we search for you in every voice.
We will join you when our sun sets; you are never very far.
Still, you are with us.
Lay your comforting hand on weary hearts.
Your laughter rings in our ears; your smile fills our memory.
We know you will always be waiting for us; you are just beyond the next hill.
Light a new candle in the place to come; its brilliance our guide will be.
Still, we are with you.
Still, we are together.
Dearra stepped forward, and she held her candle between the stout logs that supported Hugh. The fire caught the kindling and straw that had been stuffed inside, and the flames licked greedily at the wood. The people of Maj crowded closer and held their small flames to the pyre as well. There were far too many people for them to all get within reach, but they held their candles forward symbolically, so that their lights could join with the rest.
Over three hundred people surrounded the flames in a circle several bodies deep. The sun disappeared on the horizon, leaving behind only an orange and yellow glow.
Dearra walked toward Daniel first. He laid his hand on her head for a moment, and she extinguished his flame with a breath from her lips. Daniel’s hand dropped away, and he turned to begin his silent return to the castle in darkness.
Carly stepped forward, reached her hand up, and placed it on Dearra’s head. A small sob escaped her, but it seemed to go unnoticed by Dearra. Her face was blank and her eyes unblinking as she blew the light from Carly’s candle. Carly removed her hand from Dearra’s head and caressed her cheek gently before she turned to follow Daniel.
Again and again, Dearra repeated the process, until only Darius and Phillip remained. She bent lower to better allow her brother to touch her head, and then she put her hands on the top of his head as well. She didn’t really need to lower her head for him. He wasn’t the little boy he had been a year ago. She blew the light from his candle and released him quickly. He tried to speak to her, but she shook her head and turned away from him.
“Dearra, you’ve got to allow us to help you,” Darius said quietly.
“I don’t need any help. I’m fine.” Dearra pulled her head back as Darius reached to touch her. “What are you doing? You are not Maj.”
Dearra! Brin said sharply. He is one of us. You have lost your father, it’s true, Brin ignored the tremor that ran through her, but that does not mean you need to push the rest of us away as well.
She didn’t argue, she didn’t warm either, but she took a step nearer to allow Darius to place his hands on her head. He tried to caress her face as Carly had done, but she blew his candle out and stepped away.
Brin spoke only to Darius and said, You can go back, Darius. She will stay here until morning and watch over her father until the fire burns itself out. Others will come later tomorrow and work the ashes back into the ground. Do not speak to anyone until morning. The Maj will maintain silence until dawn out of respect for Hugh’s memory.
I won’t leave her, not when she’s like this, Darius thought to Brin.
I will be with her, Darius. You have nothing to fear.
Can you protect her if she chooses to step off the cliff? Darius thought. No, I won’t leave her.
She wouldn’t— Brin paused. She had been so incredibly sad. The spark that was Dearra had been extinguished. In its place was an empty shell. Brin thought about it, and he couldn’t argue that, in her present state, she might be capable of almost anything. All right, but keep out of sight. She is supposed to do this alone, so that she can grieve and heal, and move on with the new day.
Darius walked into the darkness and found a tree with sturdy branches in which he would keep his watch. I don’t think she is going to move on, Brin.
There was a long pause before Brin spoke and said, I know.
Chapter 2
Darius followed behind Dearra as she stumbled toward the keep. She had sat on the ground, without moving, all night. At one point, he thought she had fallen asleep. He was going to check on her, but Brin warned him to stay where he was, and so he did.
The Dearra he knew seemed to be gone, and he worried he might never see her again. As much as he had grown to care for Hugh, Darius did not understand the unrelenting pain Dearra was experiencing, until Brin had asked how he might have felt had the bolt struck Dearra instead. That was when he had started to watch her anytime she ventured too near the rail of the ship, or walked anywhere near the cliffs after arriving home.
***
Dearra watched her feet as she walked. She concentrated on picking up one foot and placing it in front of the other. She was so tired that she could think of nothing else but her next step. That was good. Not thinking was very good. Thinking was pain, and anger, and guilt.
Dearest, please. It’s time to come back now. You’ve been away too long. Your father wouldn’t want this, and you know it.
Dearra stumbled and fell. She gazed at the ground before her. She traced her fingers through the dirt, grabbed a fistful of earth, and clutched it in her hand. Had her father walked this path? Had he perhaps placed a foot on this very spot?
You’ve got to move on, Dearra. He’s gone.
Dearra uncurled her fingers and stared blankly ahead. If he had walked
this spot, perhaps his presence remained. Maybe there was the whisper of his scent. She held her hand to her face and breathed deeply, searching for the aroma of soap, leather, and sea, normal, everyday fragrances that, when combined, were the essence of her father, but she inhaled nothing but dirt.
Phillip needs you. I need you. Darius needs you. Will you leave us? Don’t you know that we are grieving too? We can help you; please let us.
Dearra lay down on the ground and pressed her ear against the moss, still damp having been kissed by the morning dew. His scent was not there, but maybe, if she listened closely, she would hear the echo of his step. Her heart pounded in her ears, and when she closed her eyes, she could almost imagine the thudding she heard was the sound of her father’s foot as he strode proudly down the path, but then it faded and became only her heartbeat once more.
Dearra? Dearra?
Dearra spread her arms wide and tried to hold fast to the earth beneath her, willing the sound of her father’s steps to return.
Darius stepped from the shadows and knelt beside her. He stroked her back with his hand, but she gave no indication she noticed his presence. He put his hands under her and lifted her from the ground. She thrashed wildly and struck him with her fists repeatedly. Darius stood up with her in his arms, ignoring her as she lashed out at him again and again. He strode in the direction of the keep whilst carrying her, never breaking stride.
By the time they reached the castle, Dearra had ceased her attack and laid placidly in his arms. The people in the bailey looked away as they approached. Dearra was supposed to be alone, but they understood, or tried to understand, what she was going through and that she needed help. Darius carried her to her room and set her on the cushioned chair in front of the hearth, before starting a fire to take the chill from the room. He wrapped one of the blankets around her shoulders before leaving her to find Carly and Daniel. Maybe they would know what to do.
He entered Daniel’s room and found the weapons master working on a sword at the whetstone.
“That’s an elegant looking blade, Daniel,” Darius said, trying to make conversation. “Is it new?”
“Yes. I had to have something to replace the weapon that was lost in Darak. This should do well enough. It still feels wrong in my hand, but I’ll get used to it, I suppose. I had better; I’m going to need it. You should have Wayland begin work on something for you as well. The Breken will certainly come, and when they do, every sword will be needed.”
“I already spoke to Wayland. He says he has something in mind. I’m afraid you’re right, though—the Breken will come. They won’t let Falco’s death go, not that they really care one way or another, but they will need to act for appearance’s sake, if nothing else. Besides, it’s given them the perfect excuse. There have been rumors of a strike against Mirin Tor since I was a child, but it never came to be, as it was too hard to get them to agree on anything. Now they will all come.”
“How many do you think?” Daniel asked, laying aside the weapon he was working on.
“If they can persuade all of the cities? Forty thousand. Maybe more, maybe less.”
Daniel ran his hand through his hair. “In Cyrus’s name. They will crush us.”
“We won’t be able to make any kind of stand here on the island, that’s for sure.”
“You can’t be serious, Darius. Even when they’ve come to the mainland in the past, it was never more than a thousand at a time. They wouldn’t have enough ships to carry them all.”
“They won’t come on the regular ships. They’ll come on warships. They use sails and oarsmen both. Those ships can hold four hundred souls. Plus, there are the supply ships, which will carry a few hundred more. In addition to the forty thousand warriors, there’ll be several thousand slaves and command staff as well. Why are there so few here on the island? Aren’t you supposed to be the guardians of the mainland?”
“At one time we numbered nearer to a thousand, but we’ve dwindled over the centuries. Even when the Breken have come in the past, they have not come in large numbers. Many of our children leave when they are grown, and few come from the mainland to join us anymore, having grown comfortable, and lost their desire for adventure.
“We have to go to King Jaymes,” Daniel said. “He has to be warned. We should have gone already, but with Hugh’s funeral, I just, well…” Daniel didn’t have a good excuse for not going to see King Jaymes yet, other than recent events, and he knew even that wasn’t a good enough reason for delaying what needed to be done.
“I understand, Daniel. We’ve all been walking around in a fog. When can Carly leave?”
Daniel sat on one of the wooden benches, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees. “She can’t go, and even if she could, it would be for Dearra to order it, seeing as she’s lord of the isle now.”
“She’s in no condition to order anything,” Darius said. “We have to act. Now! This can’t wait.” He thought for a moment and then said, “And what do you mean Carly can’t go? Why not?”
Daniel looked up at him with a scowl. “Don’t be snapping at me, boy. Tired as I am, I’m not too worn out to teach you some manners. Carly is sick. She’s been sick since we left Parsaia. At first I thought it might have been the strain of keeping Hugh’s body locked in ice. It took a lot of magic, and she isn’t used to it, but we’ve been home nearly two weeks now, and she shows no signs of improving.”
Darius sat beside Daniel. “Has she seen a healer?” Darius was concerned for his small sister. She had been through quite a lot herself, and he worried that the strain might prove too much for her.
“I have suggested it, but she refuses. She keeps telling me she will be fine. I’ve begged her, threatened her, scolded her, but it’s no use. She won’t budge, and she tells me to stop worrying, but how can I? She can’t keep anything down, and it’s not like she had a lot of extra weight to begin with. She’s always tired, and she tries to hide it, but I see that she’s dizzy sometimes. When she thinks no one is watching, she often reaches out a hand to steady herself.”
“Tell Ann or Catherine. Tell someone for Cyrus’s sake!” Darius shouted. It was the only way he could think to show his concern.
“Don’t you think I’ve tried? I went to Ann first. I asked her to check in on Carly and see if she needed any help with the funeral preparations, but whatever happened when they met, it wasn’t enough to cause Ann any concern. When I spoke to Ann again, she reassured me that Carly had everything she needed. I went to Catherine next, but she was no help either. I promise you, I am at my wit’s end, Darius”
“If Dearra was herself, we could count on her to get to the bottom of it. Speaking of which, what are we going to do about Dearra? She isn’t improving, either. If anything, she’s getting worse. It can’t go on like this.” Darius looked to the older man—who had known Dearra for her whole life—for a solution.
“I don’t know, Darius. I hate not knowing what to do. It isn’t a sensation I’m very familiar with. As lord of the island, Dearra should be making these decisions. Everyone’s waiting for her to act, but she just…doesn’t.”
“Can’t you fill in for her? The people would listen to you, wouldn’t they?”
“Yes, they would listen, but that’s a dangerous road, Darius. I have no claim to the lordship, and I fear it might split the island. If I step up, there would certainly be two or three others who would take that as a cue to voice their opinions, and they would have as much right as I to do so. With Dearra, they would follow. They may not yet be completely confident in her leadership, but they know her. As Hugh’s daughter, her orders would not be questioned, at least, not openly.”
“What about Phillip? He’s young, but couldn’t he take over, at least for a while?” Darius suggested, casting about for a viable option.
“Then we’re right back to where we were before. He is young. He would need a lot of advice. Who would be the one to give that advice? Me? With Dearra, she would hear what I had to say and then make he
r own decision. Pip would just as likely do whatever I told him, and everyone knows it.
“What does Brin say? Can’t he help bring her out of this?” Daniel asked hopefully.
Darius shook his head. “He doesn’t say much. He tries, he really does, but she’s hard to reach. I don’t think she even hears most of what is being said to her. It’s been so long, Daniel. Is this usual? Phillip seems okay. He’s a little quiet, and keeps to himself a lot of the time, but he interacts with others, he eats, he even smiles.”
“No, it’s not usual. We all grieve in our own ways, but it isn’t our custom to mourn to the point of losing ourselves. Hugh has moved on, too soon, it’s true, but we know he’s in a place with no shadow, no pain, and no sadness. How could we wish him back when he has gone to that? I sometimes think we did Dearra a disservice by bringing his body back with us. A sea burial would have been much kinder for everyone involved.”
Echoes Page 2
