by L. M. Roth
They held a council, and it was decided that they could not stand by idly while their fellow brethren suffered. Felicia was the first to stand up.
“I would like Antonius and me to go to Valerium, to speak to his father and see what we can do,” she said.
She held Kyrene’s eyes with her own until the older woman dropped hers.
“And I shall go to Eirinia,” Kyrene announced. “I was there at the time that your fathers drove out the Tuadan, and as there is no seer in the land,” she said this with a bow in Maelys’ direction, “I think it is time they made the acquaintance of one.”
Lucius alone had not volunteered action. In his heart, he was not sure he had the courage. Yet, he could not be the only one to sit idly by and do nothing…
“I shall accompany you and Maelys to Eirinia,” he said with a firm resolve that he did not feel. “I may at least offer you both my protection on the journey, and give it to you on the way back, Aunt Kyrene.”
She smiled approvingly at the young man, and he shot a radiant grin at her, glad that he had volunteered after all.
“Shall we make a pledge of our own?” Kyrene asked.
She turned on them a look of challenge.
“Shall we pledge to come to the aid of those who suffer for the Kingdom, and to defy the government that persecutes our brethren? Who shall stand with me?”
“I!” exclaimed Felicia.
“And I!” Maelys chimed in.
“I am with you,” Antonius agreed.
Lucius paused before making his decision. He knew that once he pledged his word he was bound to keep it, an oath being inviolably sacred, binding the one who made it to fulfill it on pain of death.
He rose to his feet and strode to Kyrene.
“I shall stand with you also.”
Chapter XXVII
Of Bowls and Bewitching
There was a pervasive sense of evil in the air. To Dirk it seemed as though he could almost smell it; a stench of something dead that is already rotting, yet called up from its grave to haunt those who seek its presence.
Around him the hills had lost their emerald glow, that vibrant green so unique to Eirinia. They had taken on a brown tinge that gave him an eerie foreboding of doom to come. Even the streams and rivers, so renowned for their crystal clarity had turned a muddy hue that, in Dirk’s opinion, merely reflected the image of the villagers who raised their voices in rebellion.
The revolt that had first reared its head at Spring Festival was not yet finished in asserting its striving for supremacy, the resurrection of its old gods. Of that much he was certain. In the intervening months his mother had disclosed more to him of the history of their people, the knowledge of which only increased his sense of evil rising around them.
It was said that the Tuadan had once dwelt in the heavens, and had been great and glorious. But they had done what was forbidden, forbidden even to mention, and they had been cast down from their celestial realm, doomed to wander the earth below, to take their abode in the hills and trees. This sentence was to remind them, so Judoc said, of the contrast between their once lofty status as heavenly beings exalted over all, and their diminishment as creatures that were now trod upon by the foot of man as he stepped on those hills and cut down the trees to warm himself with their wood on a fire.
Ever since they had found Brenus near the mound just off the path he had increasingly become aware of a brooding menace, something that seemed to be stalking his family in particular. How much of that was tied in with Spring Festival, he was not sure. Yet he felt that the women of the village were watching his family, as if testing how far they could push the boundaries of their agenda.
And he had an increasingly uncomfortable awareness that his younger sister had somehow become entangled in the web of wickedness that was spreading its threads over the village of Leith to consume it as a spider devours the fly so hapless as to find itself ensnared, trapped, with no hope of escape.
How often lately had he caught her sneaking away after the evening meal, making haste not for Melisande’s hut as he had first thought, but going none knew where, on a mission unknown? How often had he surprised her with the village girls, the center of attention, until his presence was detected, and they dissolved into giggles, exchanging furtive glances, yet betraying nothing of their secret? And how often had she skipped the family morning prayers, pleading excuses that rang hollow with insincerity, causing their mother to purse her lips together angrily, yet doing nothing to discipline her wayward daughter?
He had decided that the time had come to do something. If Judoc would not pull on the reigns and bring Nolwenn back into submission, then he would assume the role of the man of the house with his father and older brother gone and take the matter into his own hand. With that intent in mind, he followed Nolwenn one morning when she sneaked out after the evening meal.
He walked stealthily, careful not to betray his presence by stepping on a twig or crunching one of the October leaves that carpeted the ground. His older brother Cort had taught both him and his younger brother Brand the game called Staerkes that was played by the children of Trekur Lende, a game that was intended to prepare them for the hunt. The object was to step on sticks without breaking any of them, for the sound of a broken stick would betray the hunter to the prey.
Dirk felt much like a hunter now: stalking his sister to free her from the snare of another hunter who would consume her soul...
So silent was he that he had gained on her before she even sensed his presence. Nolwenn had crept down to the small stream that ran just outside the village walls, and she carried a small wooden bowl. She dipped the bowl into the stream and sat down on a boulder to gaze into the bowl. So still was she that Dirk could not determine what her purpose was in such a strange activity; she merely stared downward into the bowl.
He watched her undetected for a quarter of an hour as she stared and murmured words that he could not hear. He was suddenly startled by a rustling noise very close to him and whirled around to face whatever foe had pursued him…
It was Brand. He grinned at Dirk sheepishly and put a finger to his lips. Then he carefully and quietly sat down in the grass and joined him.
“She comes here every night,” Brand whispered. “First she dips the bowl, and then she looks into it and murmurs. It fair gives me a shudder, it does. Like some old woman who casts a spell it seems to me.”
Dirk caught his breath. Of course! Nolwenn was using an old Eirini method he had heard of but had never seen, it being a practice that was banned in the village of Leith. She was consulting the water for visions and attempting to cast spells over what she had seen, in the hopes it would come to pass.
The foolish girl! Why, she should know better than to practice such evil. The very thought enraged him, and it shamed him that his younger brother should have been wise to her before he himself was.
So great was Dirk’s anger that he threw stealth aside and stood up boldly. He strode over to the stream, where Nolwenn’s startled gasp only fueled his ire. He grabbed the bowl from her hand and brought it down on her outstretched hands, flinging the water within it in every direction. She howled in pain and anger, and rose to her feet to struggle with her brother in a vain attempt to recover the bowl.
“How dare you strike me!” she shrieked in a voice so shrill that it sounded like a crow scavenging an autumn cornfield for the remains of the crop. “Give me that bowl; give it to me, I tell you. You will be sorry if you don’t!”
Nolwenn’s lips curled back until her teeth were bared. Her hair had fallen loose in the struggle and to her brother she looked like an old harpy bent on revenge. For a moment a chill came over him before he rebuked himself. She was only his younger sister after all! And in his mind what she needed was a good spanking.
No sooner was the thought born than it gave birth to the deed. Dirk took the bowl in one hand and with the other he turned Nolwenn around until her backside was facing him. He knelt and pushed her down over hi
s knee and administered several hard slaps with the bowl. Brand rushed to assist him, holding the struggling, shrieking Nolwenn in place, making escape impossible.
Nolwenn’s howls of indignant fury brought Judoc running out of the hut. The absence of her entire family and the sound of her daughter’s screams sent her racing to the stream from whence the excitement emanated. She arrived just in time to witness her son administer the last whack with the bowl.
“Give me that!” she ordered her eldest son and snatched it from his hands. “What do you think you are doing, Dirk? It is not up to you to discipline your sister!”
So furious was Dirk that he forgot his customary respect for his mother; he stood up so abruptly that the action sent Nolwenn sprawling to the ground.
“No, it is up to you to do it, woman! But you have been so immersed in your grief over losing Brenus and Cort that you can not even see that you are losing your daughter as well. And she is going to the devil in a hurry, that I’ll warn you and no mistake!”
Dirk soon discovered that he was not the only member of the Adalbart family with a temper. Judoc slapped him across the face with her outstretched hand, then clenched it into a fist which she kept by her side.
“Grief? What do you know of grief? It isn’t you that lost first a husband, then her firstborn, and another son, and has not heard from the one she loves more than life itself in months, months, I tell you! Something is wrong with your father or he would have sent word. Do not presume to lecture me; I’ll give you what you gave your sister and don’t think you are too big for me to do it!”
Judoc threw down the wooden bowl so hard that it broke against the rock where it fell. Nolwenn cried out, but her mother grabbed her ear and pulled her to her feet. Never had she received any but gentle treatment from her mother and so astonished was the girl that she stopped her whimpering and merely stared at Judoc with a mouth so wide open that Dirk was astonished it didn’t touch the ground.
“Into the house, all of you!” Judoc commanded with the air of a general whipping his unruly troops into ranks.
“If I hear one word from any of you before morning I will spank every one of you so hard you won’t be able to sit down to eat your meals for a week.”
Chapter XXVIII
Dirk Takes A Stand
In the morning no one would speak to any one else. They broke their fast in complete silence, and when the time came for morning prayer, they looked at each other furtively, wondering if any would participate.
It was Dirk who finally broke the silence; he rose from the table and inclined his head to the living area.
“Come, let us meet and pray as we always have,” he said, reaching out to give his mother a gentle pat on the shoulder.
She placed a hand over his and patted it in return. Judoc was uncharacteristically quiet this morning, but then, she had not behaved in any manner that was customary to her children last night either.
Dirk just saw out of the corner of his eye the shadow of his sister creeping for the door of the hut. He abruptly left his mother and strode with all haste to intercept Nolwenn. He slammed the door shut just as she had quietly opened it. He snatched her hand and marched her into the living area where the others had congregated.
She cried out again and tried to snatch back her hand, but her brother would have none of it.
“Oh no, you don’t!” he warned her. “You will stay and pray this morning and join us as a family. I do not know what it is you are bowing down to these days, but in this household it is Dominio Who is worshiped and none else! And you will stay for prayer with us until the time you leave this house, either when you are married or if I kill you for sorcery, but you will not leave during prayer, Nolwenn!”
When Dirk first grabbed his sister, Judoc had opened her mouth to protest her son’s actions, but closed it when she saw the ugly look of rage on the face of her youngest daughter. If a demon had spoken out of her mouth it would not have given her a greater shock than she had now at the sight of Nolwenn. And it was evident that Dirk knew more of her activities of late than she herself did; sorcery he had said. And quite suddenly she realized the significance of the wooden bowl they had fought over last night.
“Sorcery?” Judoc screeched. “Is that what you have been up to? Where have you been learning such abominations? Answer me!”
Nolwenn clamped her mouth shut and refused to answer. Dirk decided that stronger measures were needed.
“Never mind where she learned it; any old woman in the village could teach her about it, for they all remember it from the old days. What she needs to do is repent and ask forgiveness of Dominio before His judgment falls on her for practicing what is forbidden and evil.”
Nolwenn’s face abruptly changed from red to white and her breath came in short hard gasps. She flung a look of terror on her brother.
“Do not say such things, Dirk! I will not be judged; I do not even believe in Dominio anymore, so how can He judge me?”
“What nonsense is this?” her mother asked. “Why do you not believe in Dominio anymore? What has happened to you, Nolwenn?”
Nolwenn surprised them all by suddenly bursting into tears, tears that came forth in a torrent of violent sobs that wrenched her slender body, doubling her over as she vainly tried to quench their flow. She clenched her hands into fists and brought them to her mouth, where she wrung them in fury and frustration. She unclenched them and clamped a hand to her mouth in a futile attempt to stifle her sobs.
When she finally regained control she addressed her mother with puffy eyes that made her look far older than she was.
“You said it last night, Mother,” she whispered. “We lost Brenus. Cort left. Father left and has sent no word. Where is the power of Dominio to protect them, and us? We have been visited with nothing but evil, and He has done nothing to stop it.”
She glanced around the table at their faces; all were riveted on her. The room was silent and she heard a hiss as a log from the fire dropped down and settled into the embers.
“I do not even wish to wake in the morning sometimes for fear of what will happen next. Look at Brenus: he just went hunting, something he did every day, and never came back. And where are Father and Cort?”
Dirk spoke at last, compassion for his young sister swamping his heart and drowning his anger. She was little more than a child after all…
“Brenus left the path,” he said earnestly. “Not just the path that the Eirini are warned to stay on for safety from the Tuadan. He left the path of righteousness when he stood with the villagers to honor Eoghan at the Spring Festival. Why would Dominio protect him when he forsook Dominio to give honor to a false god?”
Nolwenn made a small sound that might have been a protest, but Dirk raised a hand to continue.
“Yes, I know that sounds harsh. But it is the truth. I will not lie to you and tell you pretty stories to make you feel better, Nolwenn. Eoghan is a false god, and those who desert Dominio to bow down to another will forfeit all protection. Remember that, little sister, and leave off your dabbling with diviners and spells before it is too late.”
Judoc attempted to protest this statement.
“Now Dirk, I will not permit you to scare your sister,” she began, only to be cut off by Dirk.
“I hope I do scare my sister,” he interjected. “Someone needs to wake her up before she enters eternal slumber as Brenus did.”
He turned to face Nolwenn, who clutched the back of her chair with knuckles that were whitened in spite of her attempt to appear calm.
“And another thing,” he said. “Stay away from Melisande. If ever there was a woman who could be the very personification of a sorceress, it’s that one. She is purely evil, and if you do not cut yourself loose from that web she has entangled you in, you will share in the wrath of God when it falls on her.”
Chapter XXIX
Disclosure
On a day when the last of the leaves drifted down gently and dreamily from the trees and all were prepar
ing for the advent of winter, Cort returned with Siv and Brit.
It was to a family that was greatly changed, and not for the better. He had no sooner returned and opened the door of his mother’s hut when he felt the hidden animosity between Nolwenn and her brothers; and the bewilderment of Judoc astounded him. Always she had been as busy as a beaver building a dam, with a sense of purpose and an efficiency of execution that left others breathless at her industrious nature. Yet now, she was apathetic and exuded a sense of defeat.
And where were Dag and Maelys? Cort felt a wave of guilt wash over him when told that Maelys went in search of him. He chided himself for having so worried his sister. And yet, if he had not gone to Gaudereaux he would not have learned the truth about Melisande and the plots she had conspired against the Adalbart family. He realized that he needed to forgive himself for what, on the surface of it, seemed a lapse of judgment on his part for leaving at a critical time. No; he had been led to Gaudereaux by the hand of Dominio in order to discover the truth that he might protect his family.
And he intended to confront Melisande at the first opportunity.
Cort soon became aware of how Dirk had matured. In the absence of Dag and himself he had become the man of the family. The boldness of his nature was now tempered to a steely resolve, and that resolve was to use it in the service of Dominio. Dirk now conversed with Cort regarding matters of the spirit in a manner that he had not been capable of six months before.
He had taken on a new gravity of countenance as well. Cort realized that all of the tragedies and bewildering events of the past year had sobered the high-spirited lad, turning his thoughts to more serious introspection, and brought him into manhood years before its time. This new maturity pleased Cort: for he would not always live in Eirinia, and Dirk must become to their father what he had always been.
