Lunamae

by April Sadowski

  I awoke as the horses stopped. We had arrived at Bexweth Abbey and my aunt wanted to greet the monks as well as purchase a good amount of beer for the journey. Water took time to prepare as you had to boil it to get the impurities out but beer was safe to drink. The last time I had seen them was at Lunamae’s altram ceremony. We had only gone over the Text of Illumination together in her years of study.

  The chief dame was carefully helped down from the coach while the rest of us stayed where we were. Lunamae switched positions with my mother so we both could listen.

  “Dear Brother Barri, it is so good to see you again,” the chief dame said warmly, stretching out her hand with a warm welcome. She clasped the friar’s hand in greeting and he returned the welcome.

  “It was so good of you to come,” he replied, letting loose her hand.

  “Have you considered my request to build a chapel on our village grounds? I can expand our moat to accommodate the work,” the chief dame inquired. This was the first I had heard of this. While I was not involved in the hall of duty in any capacity, my mother was there often and she had not mentioned it to me.

  “We have. It is something we are considering. We would have to staff it of course and the monks here are very used to their solitary lives of prayer and fasting. I am afraid they would have issues transitioning to the new boisterous environment. Perhaps if you included a priory as well the idea would be better accepted. The altram ceremony a decade ago was quite enough for the ones that accompanied me,” the friar explained with an air of courtesy and respect evident in his voice. I could tell he was choosing his words wisely.

  I watched my aunt and the monk leave our presence and head into the abbey. She motioned for a few guards to accompany her to gather the beverages and carry them back for loading up.

  “I wonder what Marcus is doing,” Lunamae said.

  “There isn’t much you can do in a dungeon cell,” I remarked. The chief dame had little to worry about because even though the prisoners had been well fed, they couldn’t exercise much. If they had a sword arm, it would be rather useless after all this time. I knew they could do some very minimal exercise to keep their bodies in decent shape but like I said—there isn’t much you can do, especially with working on arm muscles.

  “Oh Muirenn, why do you always have to be a sour puss?” Lunamae grunted. “Can’t you just be happy for me?”

  “Like I said before, you aren’t going to marry him. There is no use having such feelings,” I stated coldly. I knew I was blasting my own anger at her for not having found someone of my own to share my days with and she had, she being so much younger than I. I wanted children now and a partner. I felt barren. With Lunamae leaving for another altram family I would be quite alone. Even my one-armed brother had found love. I could only find age with the passage of time.

  “Well you can be a nasty old spinster if you want. I’m not going to live like that,” Lunamae said angrily, her face red.

  “I think you’ve said enough Muirenn,” my mother warned. She had kept quiet and passive as she usually does. We sat in silence until the chief dame arrived from the abbey with guards hauling kegs of beer up to our caravan.

  Once everything had been loaded up we set off for Harper Wood. No doubt the Guardian there would greet us at some point. The Wood always had a keeper to make sure the woods were safe from tree poachers. The trees were cut down at certain times to be made into musical instruments that were always in tune. Some bandits also discovered that they made arrows and bows that also were perfect in every way. I’d heard the Wood was always protected by the Guardian with spells, but it was truly a mystery as well. The Guardian did not appear often, usually only in a time of need or if the visitors were important enough to merit a welcome. If Lunamae was what those Kryians said—the maker of peace—I think that would be significant.

  The path to Harper Wood was quite narrow and the guards on either side of the coach had to fall back to allow room between the great trees. The King’s Pass on the western edge of Feyris was wide with the trees arching over to form a ceiling, but it had been designed that way. This path was only recently made by merchants wanting a quicker route to Moir Awin where they didn’t have to trek through the dangerous Swamp of Sandring. We only had a few streams here and there that would cause trouble.

  Suddenly our caravan stopped.

  “What is the delay?” the chief dame called out.

  “There seems to be an obstacle in our path,” my father replied. “I can’t see much from here but perhaps it is a large boulder or a fallen tree limb. Do you want me to go investigate?”

  “Please,” my aunt said. I heard my father dismount and walk up to wherever it was that was hindering our movement. It was quiet for a while and then I heard an exclamation of amazement. He came back, a stranger following behind him.

  “You would not believe it if I told you,” he told Angharad.

  “Believe what?” my aunt demanded.

  “I only conjured the illusion of an obstacle. It was not really there. I wanted to stop you,” the woman said, explaining. I peeked my head out to look at her. She was tall, with hair the color of night. She had bright blue eyes under sharp eyebrows. Her lips were the color of cherries and her teeth were perfectly set. She was dressed in a green tunic and a short skirt. Her legs were not unprotected as I noticed they were covered by thick leather scales which also adorned her shoulders. She had a sword at her back as well. Her age was hard to pinpoint. She could have been anywhere between my age or my father’s. It was if she was shifting through youth and age with a shield of illusion.

  “Who might you be?” my aunt inquired.

  “Toryn,” the woman said plainly. “What draws you into my wood?”

  “You must be the mysterious Guardian, then,” my aunt said without missing a beat. She was clearly not intimidated by this woman or her magical skills. “We are just passing through on our way to Fanarion. We will not tarry.”

  “Indeed,” Toryn said. “I know what business you have there. Perhaps you should listen to the Kyrians. Or even Taros the bard. He had heard that tale long before. I remember him in my woods during the battle of Wortha Hill saying soon it would all be over. He did not mean the battle.”

  “Our journey is certainly not a wasted trip,” my aunt said firmly. “It is always best for diplomatic relations to occasionally visit those who are still peaceful.”

  “Kyrie does want peace. You are the one who has chosen not to accept it,” the Guardian said. Before the chief dame could argue, the woman had disappeared. We could only hear her voice in a whisper leave us with, “There is much in store for Feyris. More than you realize.”

  Lunamae and I looked at each other, mouths slightly open in awe. This was actually the first time we had ever seen anything remotely magical, not to mention someone telling the chief dame she was wrong about something. The Guardians, always closely intertwined with nature, were also very avid followers of the Creator. It was a close connection they shared being ones to promote life and new growth rather than death and destruction. Even in death, we are told by the Text of Illumination that there is a place for us in the heavens and we are reborn as immortals. I could only assume that the Guardians worked their power with the help of the Creator.

  “That was interesting,” my aunt said and then urged my father to continue the caravan forward into the village of Moir Awin. The obstacle in the road was gone and the only thing ahead in our paths was the river Shibher but it would be low enough to easily cross this time of year.

  Lunamae courageously gathered her needlework project up but was quickly reprimanded by her mother saying the last thing she needs to deal with is a bloody finger spraying all over the place, especially when we were going to be meeting her grandparents and a good first impression was desired.

  “Why don’t we go over the Text of Illumination?” I asked her, sensing that she was bored which was quite easy to be in this cramped coach.

  “That would be appropriate,�
�� my aunt commended, allowing Lunamae to sit beside me. It was a bit difficult to switch positions in the coach but my aunt must have done it before, because in no time at all, Lunamae was sitting next to me.

  I took out the large book, the gifted one from Lunamae’s altram ceremony. Lunamae had always been asking for more to read as there was only a small collection of writings available in the keep. She said she always wanted a big library, the kind spoken of in other places. Books were expensive and not easy to make, although I heard from Gaius that Kyrie had started working on a press that would put ink on metal word and letter plates. Those plates transferred to paper and could be rapidly duplicated—much faster than a scribe.

  I dug through the pages until I found the section I was looking for, the part where the Creator came to us in human form. We called him the Teacher. It was hard for Lunamae to get her head around the fact that the Creator could be more than one entity at once. I compared the Creator to water which made much more sense to her. Water can come in many forms, the tangible liquid and solid, as well as the air. I read about the Teacher and how he performed miracles, which was long before magic was ever discovered. It was in Old Orinda when the world was all one community. The Teacher traveled to all edges of Orinda—even to Cragash. We don’t speak of Cragash much anymore. It’s a desolate land home to humanoid creatures called the gorlags. They used to be servants of the humans but when Orinda was split, the humans left them. Maybe one day we will go back in peace. The Teacher gave his life as a sacrifice for us all so one day we can, as he did, return to the Creator. The Text of Illumination speaks of his return to Orinda sometime in the future. Perhaps that is why the Kyrians rely so much on the stars.

  Lunamae always liked hearing about the Teacher. I did as well. The words he speaks that are presented in the Text seem always so calm, gentle, and loving. I almost had got to the next part about the followers spreading the words of the Teacher when Angharad stopped us.

  “We are nearing Moir Awin so put down the Text and get everything in order,” she said, brushing her hands past her hairs on either side of her head. “There is not much we can do with the way you look since everything is loaded up in chests.”

  “They know we have been traveling, sister,” my mother said affectionately. I knew she was trying to be overly nice since she called her sister. I peeked out of the coach and noticed a couple walking towards us and a younger girl behind. The coach stopped abruptly by their presence.

  “Angharad, is that you?” I heard the older woman shout out.

  “Freyja, there is no need to shout,” I heard a man nearby say, he came next to the woman to stand by.

  “Yes Mother, it is. We thought we would visit since we are on our way to Fanarion,” my aunt answered. The older man Freyja was with offered the chief dame a hand to get out of the coach and then helped the rest of us out. We were on the outskirts of the village of Moir Awin. It was nearly the same size as Feyris but much less protected. Instead of a moat, there was a trench with sharp poles protruding out, forcing travelers to enter only one way. I noticed the solis was starting to head downwards into the earth so I assumed we would also spend the night in the village.

  “What brings you so far south?” the woman asked curiously.

  “My daughter, Lunamae. I think she is old enough to be paired with a suitable match—if we can find a decent suitor. I would have thought to come here but I think the bloodlines in our families will run too close. We don’t want Lunamae to be barren,” the chief dame explained. She drew Lunamae from my side and presented her. “This is Lunamae. Lunamae, these are your grandparents, Freyja and Chieftain Bothildr. They are your father’s parents.” Lunamae uttered a shy hello and a proper curtsey to which the rulers nodded with approving eyes.

  “This is Rika, our dalta,” Freyja said, motioning to the girl. “We figured that at our age there would be no more children and we were getting lonely. One of the clansmen suggested we take her in next. She has been quite a blessing.”

  “Have the monks of Bexweth been by?” my aunt inquired.

  “Yes with their new variety of beers for the winter season. Have you tried them yet?” Freyja asked and the chief dame shook her head. “Oh you must. Let us get you all in our lodge and cleaned up and then we will all sample some.”

  My mother drew Lunamae and me back and escorted us to the lodge while Freyja talked with Angharad. My father helped with watering the horses instead of coming right in although he said he wouldn’t be too long since his presence was important.

  “Chieftain Bothildr doesn’t speak much,” I said.

  “He doesn’t have much to speak about,” my mother said. “The last time we were here he said it was much easier for Freyja to do all the talking. He would handle the business end of things and she would handle the social. Right now there isn’t anything business going on—at least I would assume that given his silence.”

  We were led into the lodge. Unlike the keep in Feyris which was all made of stone, this was made of large logs and some kind of filler between. The logs I assumed were from the Oycos forest of Fanarion or perhaps from the jungles of Chalos. When we entered the lodge we looked up. Instead of arches of stone to greet us, there were arches of wooden beams. The whole room smelled of rich pine.

  We were led to a few rooms where clean water awaited us. We weren’t that dirty since we had been traveling in a semi-enclosed vehicle but I couldn’t imagine how much grime my father had picked up. We went to join the rest in the large hall in the center of the lodge. It was a lovely meal and while I didn’t quite enjoy the taste of the bitter beer, I found that they also had honey mead due to the season which I readily enjoyed. We ate our fill and went to bed promptly, although the chief dame decided to stay behind and converse with her late husband’s parents. I couldn’t wait to continue on the journey and finally reach our destination.

  It had been over a day since leaving Moir Awin and my aunt was still quite somber. She said when we left that when she looked at Bothildr all she could see was the haunting shadow of Leofric. We spoke kind words to her and tried to ease the pain with my recitation of the Text of Illumination, particularly the songs of praise in the middle.

  When we entered Midonia the next morning, we were greeted warmly. The Fanarions had been expecting us—which was good because if they weren’t then the guards and spies weren’t doing their jobs. The city was all busy in a stir of activities. Large white flowers were positioned along the path to the palace. The people—dressed in clothes much like the Kyrians—clapped with our presence as well which seemed a bit odd, but they had a different culture so I respected it. After heading up the steps of the palace, we were led to the Basileykoss Avaylle which I was told meant “Royal Court” in the native language of the Fanarions. Unlike most of Orinda, the Fanarions decided that they would adopt a new language in honor of their independence. They also find it good for cheating out foreigners and telling secrets. Chalosians did the same as well—although only the women knew the language. At any rate, we did as we were told. Before entering, I passed a tall male servant carrying some foods. He offered them to us and I met his eye. I suddenly realized that the servant was quite handsome with dark curly hair, broad shoulders, chocolate-brown eyes, and an olive complexion like the rest of the people I had noticed in Fanarion. His gaze toyed with me for a second before he lowered his head and continued on his duties.

  We paused before entering the Basileykoss Avaylle and were told to wait until we were summoned. I shifted nervously while waiting for the doors to be opened. I had never been in such a formal setting, and I wasn’t sure what to do. I was never taught these things, even though my mother knew I would be going on this trip with her. The doors were opened and the servants presented us saying,

  “May I present the Chief Dame Angharad, her daughter Lunamae, and her relations Keolan, Adelle, and Muirenn of Clan Frys,” the servant said. We walked forward and approached the king and queen of Fanarion. They were both about the same age as my pa
rents by the looks of their faces. Their heads were both adorned with a crown of gold leaves. We were greeted warmly and were invited to sit down nearby.

  The Basileykoss Avaylle was so much different than the hall of duty or the lodge at Moir Awin. It was very much like an open courtyard and if we looked up we could see the sky. There were columns all around supporting the Avaylle, with a rich marble floor at our feet. The walls of the court were richly painted. The artistic style was different than the tapestries we make in Feyris but it was still beautiful. It was also quite soothing being able to hear the birds and the sounds from the Sea of Ayreni. I was unaccustomed to the sound of seagulls. The sound may not be for everyone because of the high pitched screech, but I found it to be unique and thus pleasant. There was incense lit in the Basileykoss Avaylle. I had heard about this incense from one of the merchants, but it always thought it as similar to the smell of the cinnamon in my aunt’s fireplace. It was not at all like I had imagined.

  “I am King Cyrus and this is Queen Eirene,” the king said, his voice lightly accented. The king and queen both had dark, curly hair. From what I assumed, it was one of the traits of Fanarion’s people. They also had darker skin—no doubt as a means of protection against the heat of the south. “We would like you to meet Alexo, our son. We would consider him to be an appropriate choice for Lunamae. This is such a formal setting. Perhaps we could take a walk out to the docks as I’m sure Lunamae would be very eager to see the sea. Perhaps, just you, Angharad, and Lunamae can come in a more private atmosphere. The rest of your family can come and go as they please here. We will see to your rooms.” The king then called out to the servant who had given us something to nibble on outside the court. I found out his name was Theron. I couldn’t understand much because the king was talking to him in the Fanarion language. Theron came back to us and urged us to follow him while the chief dame and Lunamae went with the rulers to the docks. We were led to the area where the royal living quarters were, the entrance to which was a courtyard as well, with seating in the center and opaque white fabric stretched out over the ceiling of sky.