Not knowing what else to do, Adalginza impatiently gestured for the woman with the pleasant, ruddy face to be seated on the wooden stool next to the bed.
"You should be pleased. You have witnessed much to gossip about with the other servants."
"I take no pleasure in such pastimes, lady."
"Good." Adalginza nodded once in approval. "What is your name?"
"Umbrea."
"So, Umbrea. You say you take no pleasure in speaking of private matters. Yet, you are a spy. Telling all you know to Benfaaro."
Umbrea placed two fingers to her lips and glanced around furtively.
"I cannot help who I am. Punish me with your words if you must, but do try to speak softly within these walls."
"You are right. Of course."
Adalginza drew in a deep breath, striving to reach deep inside for strength. And wisdom. And a sense of purpose beyond herself.
If she was someday going to claim her status as one Of The Blood, these petulant outbursts must stop. For one thing, she was no longer a child.
She sat for many moments, gathering together her thoughts and willing her personal anguish to dissolve.
Would she ever see Captain Kalos again? She did not know. But somehow, in the shock of her loss, clarity began to emerge.
She saw that it was possible to fill a larger role. Something beyond being a great leader's obedient sister or the demure wife of an officer of the Crescent knights.
While she continued to grasp at an idea that still eluded her, Umbrea spoke nervously.
"It is most curious. Your captain was convinced Calasta was Benfaaro's child. And yet he spared her."
"Yes."
"This speaks well of him. I understand now why it is that you love him. Though he is — the enemy. But I forget myself. I should not speak of such things without your permission."
Umbrea lowered her head then, as though expecting to be chastened for such frankness from a person of lowly status.
"You may speak freely with me anytime," Adalginza assured her. "Benfaaro knows I love my husband. Report this if you must, but it will come as no surprise to him. What concerns me the most is what you will say about Calasta. Does Benfaaro know?"
"Not as yet." Still looking down, the servant smoothed the crudely woven cloth of her plain uniform. "I did not myself even know the child's name until this very day when I heard it spoken aloud. She has for the most part been largely ignored in the servants' quarters."
"I see," Adalginza said cautiously. "I suppose this is good."
Finally, the servant looked up.
"I thought she had been brought here as your servant. And here I found out she is Benfaaro's heir and one Of The Blood. Why would I suspect such a thing? It was widely reported that Calasta had been killed by a Crescent knight."
"It is very important that Benfaaro not know Calasta is alive and with us."
"But this is heresy." Umbrea eyed Adalginza doubtfully. "Is it not my duty to tell Benfaaro that his child still lives?"
"You must know I am Benfaaro's sister. Need I remind you that I, too, am Of The Blood? You owe loyalty to me as well."
Adalginza was not sure what kind of response she would receive to that bold statement. But the last thing she expected to see was the brightness of hope shining on Umbrea's face.
The servant leaned slowly forward, and dropped her voice.
"Our people know of you now, Lady Adalginza. Benfaaro wants this. He speaks openly about who you are and about the great sacrifices you made."
"I am shocked that he speaks of me at all." Adalginza felt a growing sense of alarm. "To announce my identity so openly seems risky."
If word that she was a spy leaked out to any citizen of the Crescent Houses, she would be immediately executed. Surely her brother was aware of this.
"Benfaaro thinks you are forever lost. In your mind." Umbrea touched a finger to her head, then blushed as she regarded Adalginza. "He has plans to bring you back home. But before that happens, he wants others to know of your malady."
"Why would he want this?"
"So that you are recognized, but disregarded."
"This is beyond my understanding," Adalginza said quietly.
Umbrea lowered her voice still more. "There have been too many whisperings among our people about a woman with indigo eyes, as foretold in The Prophecy. This greatly displeases Benfaaro."
Adalginza felt like an incakit, about to poke its curious nose into the hot flames of a fire. But she could not help herself. She leaned forward and lowered her own voice, sealing the conspiracy between them.
"Here is how it will be," she said authoritatively. "We will share our secrets. We will trust each other. You will help me protect Calasta. She is Of The Blood, and it is your duty."
"But my allegiance is also to Benfaaro," Umbrea said. "Are you asking me to betray your own brother?"
"The danger to Calasta is not from her father, who loves her. The danger is from her mother."
"Bruna?" Umbrea asked, not sounding at all surprised.
"Yes. I believe it was Bruna, not a Crescent knight, who attacked Calasta. Benfaaro would never believe this accusation, though. If he learns Calasta is with me, he will demand that his daughter be returned to him. And to Bruna. Surely you see I am trying to save Calasta's life. She must stay here with me. Do you understand now?"
The truth is always better.
Adalginza could only hope that she was making a wise choice in placing absolute faith in this stranger named Umbrea, who now looked thoroughly frightened.
"But why wouldn't Calasta tell this to her father?"
"Calasta has few memories left of her past," Adalginza explained. "Her mind protects her from the horror of knowing that her own mother tried to murder her."
"I do not understand why Bruna would do such a thing." Umbrea sounded angry. "Calasta is just a little girl."
Adalginza stifled her own fury. Already she was learning that a true leader must rise above emotion. And so she answered calmly.
"She knows that, if her child lives, Calasta would directly inherit power Of The Blood if something happens to Benfaaro. It cannot be transferred to another, whereas mine can — through marriage, and through Benfaaro's decree. Calasta is far too prone to think her own thoughts. Bruna knows she cannot control her."
"So Bruna wants her out of the way."
"Yes."
Umbrea appeared lost in thought. Finally, she spoke again.
"It is well known among the tribal leaders that Bruna thirsts for power. And that she uses her potions to alter Benfaaro's judgment to create chaos and suffering."
"I am glad this is known. It gives me more hope for the future of our people."
Umbrea took a deep breath, and smiled.
"If you say that Bruna would kill her own child, I believe you. Never fear. I will protect Calasta with even my own life."
"And what word of me will you pass along to Benfaaro now?"
Umbrea smiled again. "I am not sure. How is your state of health, Lady Adalginza?"
Adalginza rose to her feet and walked over to the window, where she pulled opened the shutters. She observed the lush greenery of the courtyard below her. Fountains of water spurted in a myriad of patterns that captivated her, almost hypnotizing her.
She breathed deeply of the sweet freshness and felt suddenly homesick for the wildness of the frontier.
She would prefer to go home if she could somehow be free. But she must stay, if for no other reason than Calasta needed to be shielded and kept far away from her mother.
"Benfaaro would expect my return if he knew of my full recovery," Adalginza said at last. "Then he and Bruna would proceed with plans to wed me to Talan. Now that Captain Kalos has gone, I am no longer of much use to him here anyway. From what you have said, he already has a network of well-placed spies."
"This is true. Benfaaro has ships hidden along the coasts, used for transport and conveying messages. You could be taken, even against your will,
at any moment."
Adalginza saw a flash of color in a nearby tree filled with succulent leaves. She briefly mindlinked with a surprised, rainbow-colored bird of the same species as Starla. There was no special bond here, however, and the startled bird quickly flew away.
"I will watch carefully behind my back then," Adalginza said. "And here is what you must do. You must tell Benfaaro's couriers that I am still quite ill. My emotional public display in front of the palace, the one that so distressed Lady Swiala, will confirm that."
"Your brother may still want you home."
Adalginza turned slowly to face Umbrea.
"Then tell him that I will not be here at the palace. Lady Swiala has, in truth, arranged for me to seek healing at the Dome of Archives in Solaria. And I will be inaccessible for an undetermined length of time."
Umbrea stood and bowed in acquiescence. "I will report what you have just told me to Benfaaro. For I know only what I hear."
"I deeply thank you for your faith in me, Umbrea. And you do not need to bow to me."
Umbrea nodded, but did not immediately leave the room. "You should know I also have been instructed to report upon the activities of Captain Kalos. What is it that I should say about him?"
"I am at a loss for words because I do not know my own husband anymore."
Umbrea nodded with understanding.
"Most people think the captain is courting Lady Sagawea, who has known associations with the Eradicators. The captain's influence in Congress grows, as does his power to do great harm. I must report this to maintain my credibility."
Adalginza nodded calmly, trying not to show her pain.
"Do what you must."
Umbrea dared to walk over to Adalginza and place a gentle hand on her shoulder.
"Captain Kalos is at great risk of being assassinated. I believe I see now what was in your heart. You betrayed your husband and his love for you in order to save him."
"It was far more than that. I wanted to save him, yes. And his family. And our people. Instead, I caused many deaths." Adalginza regarded Umbrea sorrowfully. "I wish to ask of you another favor. Something that only you may decide, because I have no right to command."
"And what might that be?"
"When the time is right and Calasta no longer needs our protection and our secrecy, I ask that you also report what you yourself witnessed. Kalos spared Benfaaro's child. He spared one Of The Blood."
"I witnessed this, and I can happily report it."
"Good. And you must also tell the people that the Crescent knight, Luzicos, who was accused of killing Calasta actually saved her life. And for this good deed, he was tortured, defiled, and murdered in a most horrific way. Our people must know of this crime."
Umbrea nodded. "This story shall be told. I will do so when the time is right."
"Very good." Adalginza smiled at Umbrea. "As long as all sides accept at least a portion of the blame for all that has gone wrong, then there is still some small hope for peace."
"Yes, my lady."
"There is one more thing I must tell you before you go."
"Yes?"
"Umbrea, you said you were created only for the reason to serve the purposes of Benfaaro."
"But of course."
"I, too, was told this all my life. But it is a lie."
"Please say no more." Umbrea glanced around furtively, as though too many ears might be listening. "You speak blasphemy."
"You were not created by Benfaaro." Adalginza's firm tone invited no argument. "We were each born into this life, from the wombs of our own mothers, to become who we were meant to be. It matters not if our blood is from a Crescent House or from one of the tribes. Or both. No person is born to be shaped by another."
"I cannot believe such a thing is true."
"It is truth. I am Of The Blood, and I decree it to be so."
It was the first time Adalginza had ever spoken in such a way. She felt the power of her own words electrify her, as though her essence had been converted to the exact same energy produced by a storm's eye-blinding lightning.
Umbrea saw the brief, luminous glow surrounding Adalginza, and this made her eyes grow wide with fear. And profound respect.
"Your existence was foretold by the Ancients. It is my honor to serve you."
But at her words, self-doubt caused Adalginza's light to fade away.
"Serve only if it is your will do so. I do not deserve honor, Umbrea. I have the blood of too many innocents on my hands."
"Then may you find peace — and redemption — when you embark on your journey to Solaria."
***
A pervasive, drizzling rain hung over the austere earthen dome Adalginza spied in the distance. She shifted stiffly in the saddle, grateful that her three-day journey was almost at an end.
The structure blended almost perfectly with its surroundings of tropical ferns and earthen, circular pits lined with smooth, black stones. These served as water catchments for irrigating the marshy fields of grain cultivated in the compound of gnostics who served the House of the Eighth Crescent Moon.
No one toiling in the fields under broad-brimmed hats even glanced up at the arrival of an unaccompanied lady of knights boldly sitting astride a pinto sturmon.
During her stay on the Prime Continent and her "awakening" almost a quarter season ago, Adalginza had discovered that the ladies here already were exploring the comforts of traveling on sturmons in the same way as men.
Many women of the different Houses, though certainly not those of the Fifth House, had adopted the custom. So whisperings that condemned this mode of travel were now confined only to a certain few who decried the loss of tradition and decorum.
Adalginza wore an ornately embroidered, hooded cloak given to her by her grandmother as protection against the frequent, soaking rains that often flooded the Prime Continent.
She had at first found the storms delightful, since their scarcity in the mostly desert regions of the frontier made their infrequent arrival cause for joyous celebrations.
But the omnipresent gray skies here eventually made her yearn for the sun.
In fact, mold accompanying the constant moisture grew everywhere on the Prime Continent. For this reason, Adalginza had developed a deep and chronic chest cough that set back her initial recovery.
Perhaps this, too, was fortunate. Because Umbrea was able to report honestly enough to Benfaaro that Adalginza was still ailing.
Though her condition remained frail, Adalginza defied her grandmother's wishes and insisted on traveling unaccompanied to Solaria, the homeland of the Dome of Archives and of Medosa himself.
Though she had promised Lady Swiala that she would bed down in reputable inns along the way, Adalginza instead had chosen to travel at night and sleep in brushy seclusion during the day.
Strangely, she found that riding in her old familiar way in the darkness and under the crescent moons helped revive her strength. Here, as in the frontier, Adalginza embraced the night as her friend.
During her journey, she had even delighted in sharing mindlinks with the many creatures that used the night to conceal themselves from predators and humans passing by on the many roads crisscrossing the Prime Continent.
As she neared the dome, Adalginza felt a brief impression of the mind that somehow seemed familiar. She pulled up the sturmon and frowned as she peered at the formidable fencing of mud and stone bricks separating a nearby estate from the compound belonging to the gnostics.
But whatever it was she had sensed was now gone.
Then a distant thunder caused her sturmon to dance uneasily beneath her. The noise did not sound like it belonged to the storm, and it created an unexplainable feeling of dread within her.
She then succumbed to a fit of coughing and wheezing, which pulled her thoughts back to the mission at hand. After she recovered herself, Adalginza rode through the main gate where no one challenged her.
Once inside the compound, she dismounted from the sturmon and was met
by a gnostic who wore one of the pure white robes of the House of the Eighth Crescent Moon.
The young man eyed her curiously, as he took charge of the sturmon's rein.
"I am Lady Adalginza," she explained. "I have come to speak with Polyper, who is expecting me."
"He is about to take his meal..." The young man looked thoughtful. "But I know your name. I am sure Polyper will want me to take you directly to him."
The entry corridor of the dome was dark, illumined by candlelight along the way. From the look of the mounds of wax drippings, the lighting had been used — perhaps continuously — for many generations.
The corridor had a dank yet pleasant smell, accentuated by the candles that were scented with some kind of sweet-smelling flower essence.
"Many come here for counsel," the young man explained, his voice echoing hollowly. "We are prepared to receive visitors. Day or night."
"What is your name?" Adalginza asked.
"Ginrel. I am Polyper's apprentice."
"That is interesting. Medosa once told me that Polyper was his apprentice."
The young man's face brightened with interest.
"I had heard that you received schooling from Medosa. He is one of our most revered saints. In fact, a publication about his life has just been released. It is being circulated widely."
"I know," Adalginza said, keeping her tone neutral. "I have heard of it, though I have not read it."
Ginrel cautiously studied her expression.
"There will be other publications bearing Medosa's name. Originating from here. Written by those who knew Medosa personally."
"I am glad."
"As are we. Medosa always said that the teachings were more important than the man. Or the woman. Still, the written words also should be true to the nature of the man who is being celebrated."
"You do not approve of the publication Lady Sagawea has authored?"
"No. And you might find it most enlightening, Lady Adalginza, to learn that Lady Redolo does not, either. She sent word from the frontier that she wanted her own name removed from the pages. This has been done. And she now is working directly with us on her newest research."
Ten Crescent Moons (Moonquest) Page 24
