Fire of the Soul

by Speer, Flora

  “Of course,” Lady Elgida continued, “the ideal solution would be for Garit to travel to Kantia and convince King Dyfrig that he, as a mature man with a strong and honest reputation, ought to be made lord of Kinath, instead of a little boy holding the title. Then, Fenella could take her sons and retire to her dower lands, leaving her husband to join her there, or aim his ambitions elsewhere.”

  “But, Garit said only this evening that he doesn’t want Kinath,” Calia objected. “Besides, if what you suspect of Mallory’s intentions is true, then traveling to Kantia would be dangerous for Garit. If he’s wise, he’ll flee from Mallory, instead of running to confront him.”

  “I have never known an honest man to run from danger,” Lady Elgida said. “One thing I do know; I’ll not allow all three of my grandchildren to remain at risk. Therefore, we cannot tell Garit what we’ve discussed here, because if he learns who Fenella’s husband is, he will go rushing off to confront Mallory and possibly get himself killed, just as you fear. Aside from the fact that I don’t want Garit hurt, his death would not rescue Belai and Kinen from Mallory’s schemes and might even put them into greater danger.

  “So, we need our own plan. Help me to undress, Calia, and then leave me. I want to be alone so I can think serious thoughts. I must find a way to resolve this problem. And, Calia?”

  “Yes, my lady?”

  “You are not to tell Garit who your father was, or who your brother is. Nor will you mention the Power you so skillfully conceal. We will keep those truths to ourselves. It’s possible that a time will come when we will need them as weapons.”

  “I understand.” With her deepest feelings hidden as usual under the guise of quiet obedience, Calia bowed her head.

  Having tucked Lady Elgida into bed with a warm brick at her feet, Calia returned to the hall to make certain the servants had finished clearing away the remains of the evening meal. Of course they had; Lady Elgida’s people were reliable and few of them ever shirked their duties. After seeing that the latch on the mai

  n door was secured, Calia headed for the large fireplace, intending to break the last of the logs apart, so they wouldn’t shoot sparks that could start a fire. Glowing embers would keep the hall sufficiently warm through the night for those servants who slept there.

  “Is my grandmother settled?” Garit rose from the bench that faced the fire.

  “Oh, I didn’t see you in the shadows, Lord Garit.”

  “Plain ‘Garit’ will suffice,” he said with a smile so faint and so quickly gone that it was barely noticeable. “Tell me, how is my grandmother’s health? I was surprised to see her retire so early.”

  “She is very well, though I think a bit tired tonight after the excitement of seeing you again. She speaks of you often. She loves you dearly.”

  “Yes, I know. She has never made a secret of her affection. I should have come to see her sooner. Though it does seem to me that you have taken much of the burden of managing Saumar off her shoulders. I am grateful for that.”

  “I love her, too. I never knew my mother, but Lady Elgida makes up for the lack.”

  “Does she?”

  His blue eyes looked deep into Calia’s own. He raised one hand and she thought – nay, she feared – or was it hope warming her heart? – that he was going to touch her cheek. She wasn’t certain what to expect and his nearness confused her. Then he caught her hand and raised it, bending his head. Calia’s knees quaked at the touch of his warm lips on her fingers. Still holding her hand, he looked directly at her again. They stared at one another for a long time and Garit appeared startled, almost bewildered. At last Calia gently, reluctantly removed her fingers from his grasp.

  “Good night, Lord Garit. I mean, ‘plain Garit.’“ She managed a smile as she offered his own words back to him. “Sleep well.” She turned away and made herself walk toward the steps that led to the solar, though she would have preferred to remain there by the fire, holding his hand and gazing into his eyes.

  “Good night, my lady,” he said, very softly.

  Calia halted in mid step and stood perfectly still, repeating that undeserved title to herself. Then she went on, up the steps, making her way to her own tiny chamber.

  A short while later, when Garit suddenly realized that he was still standing by the fire looking after Calia, he swore a soft but virulent oath. The woman was nothing to him, was possibly using his grandmother to her own advantage. He hadn’t made up his mind yet about her intentions, but until he did he knew he dared not trust her, much less like her.

  Three years ago he had closed his heart against the blandishments of all women, for no one could possibly match his lost and beloved Chantal. He’d taken no solemn vows never to wed or be happy again, but all the same, he did not want a substitute for his one love.

  Yet he was forced to admit to himself that Calia intrigued him and roused his curiosity. In the very moment of their meeting something about her had made him think he recognized her.

  Furthermore, he had learned during his years as an emissary that he’d do well to pay attention whenever a familiar, nagging sense at the back of his mind warned him all was not as it seemed. He suspected Calia of harboring secrets and he feared those same secrets could be detrimental to his grandmother. If only he had time to ride to Talier Beguinage and question his aunt about Calia. But his upcoming mission was too urgent. A few days with his grandmother were all he could spare.

  He refilled his wine cup from the pitcher Anders had left beside him on the bench. Seating himself, he sat gazing into the fire until a soft step sounded behind him.

  “Anders.”

  “Aye, my lord.” Hearing his master’s low tone, the squire moved closer, so Garit would not have to raise his voice.

  “I noticed you talking with that maidservant, Mairne.”

  “She’s not exactly a servant.” Mindful of the household members who were wrapping themselves in blankets or their cloaks preparatory to sleeping on the floor, Anders kept his voice as soft as Garit’s. “Mairne tells me she came to Saumar with Calia, and Lady Elgida allowed her to stay.”

  “But she’s not a mage?”

  “No more than Calia. You know how it is. Dowries are a drain on any father or brother. Families want to rid themselves of unwanted girls and a beguinage seems a respectable place for them. Not all the women in a beguinage possess Power.”

  “True enough.” Garit lapsed into silence and Anders, attuned to his moods after many years together, seemed to follow his thoughts.

  “Since you want to know more about both females, I’ll continue my efforts to become friends with Mairne and I’ll learn whatever I can from her,” Anders said.

  “If she’s a maiden or unwilling, you will not violate her,” Garit instructed.

  “Of course not. I know what you’d do to me if I ever ravished any woman,” Anders responded with a quick grin. “I’ll talk discreetly with the servants as well as with Mairne, and with the grooms in the stable, too.”

  “A good idea. You are dismissed now. I’ll see myself to bed.” Garit waved a hand and Anders slipped away in the direction of the kitchen, presumably to begin his investigations.

  Garit sat by the fire, watching it burn down, frowning as he tried to make sense out of apparently unconnected bits and pieces of information, not all of them having to do with Calia. He’d been worried before coming to Saumar and now his feeling of disquiet increased. The last time he’d felt impending danger so strongly had been the night when Chantal disappeared. He’d been right then, and he very much feared he was right now.

  In addition to his other responsibilities, he was going to have to find a means of keeping his grandmother safe. Knowing her independent nature, that wouldn’t be an easy task.

  Chapter 4

  “Since this is your first visit to Saumar in many years,” Lady Elgida said to Garit as they broke their fast the next morning, “you ought to learn to know again the land that will be yours one day. Let Calia show you the fields and the
forest. Then, tomorrow, she can explain the workings of the household and the barns and stables.”

  Garit swallowed the bread and cheese he was chewing, then took a large swig of ale to wash the food down before he responded. Otherwise, he feared he’d choke on sheer irritation. He wanted to protest that if he knew how his own Castle Auremont was run, and he did, to the last sheaf of wheat and basket of apples and wheel of cheese, and knew all the people of castle and village besides, then certainly he could manage the much smaller manor lands of Saumar without anyone acting as his tutor.

  He noticed how Calia stared at Lady Elgida before firmly closing her mouth. From her expression Garit suspected she was gritting her teeth. Apparently, she didn’t relish his grandmother’s suggestion, either. Except, since they were dealing with Lady Elgida, it wasn’t a suggestion, it was an order. Garit realized it was also an opportunity to become more familiar with Calia, so he could better judge her character and her intentions.

  “Thank you for the offer, Grandmother,” he said, forcing a slight smile to his lips. He didn’t smile often these days and he almost never laughed, but he’d make the effort for the sake of the old lady he loved. “I can be ready whenever it pleases you, Calia.”

  “In an hour, then,” she responded. “I must speak with the cook about the midday meal.”

  “You could take food with you,” Lady Elgida said, “and eat on the riverbank where that little waterfall is.”

  “Not today.” Calia’s refusal was a bit sharp. “It’s cold and foggy, and I do believe we’ll see rain before the afternoon ends.” She softened her stiff explanation with a gentler comment. “I’m sorry, my lady. Please forgive my rudeness.”

  Lady Elgida snorted, her gaze on Garit, who was watching Calia. Garit found himself wondering just how much his grandmother saw, and what she was thinking.

  Through the mist and drizzle they rode over Saumar lands, with Anders and Mairne accompanying them. Garit could hear Anders speaking in an exaggerated Kantian accent, his remarks often followed by Mairne’s low, sultry laugh that grew softer as the pair fell farther and farther behind.

  “Anders will offer no insult,” Garit assured Calia when she swung around in her saddle to check on them. “He knows I’d never allow it.”

  “Do you mean because Mairne is part of your grandmother’s household?” Calia demanded in the same sharp tone she’d used earlier with Lady Elgida, the same tone that plainly told Garit she’d rather be anywhere else than riding with him.

  “I was raised in a castle,” Calia continued, “so I know how squires prey on young women, especially those whom they deem beneath their own rank.”

  “Neither Anders nor I would ever misuse any woman of any rank,” Garit said quietly. “You insult us to say so.”

  “I beg your pardon, my lord.” She spoke with great formality. “I’ve no wish to cast a slur on your honor, or your squire’s, either.”

  “Perhaps you were thinking of other men you’ve known,” he suggested, hoping thus to prompt her to speak of her past.

  “Perhaps I was thinking of my own father!” she snapped. “Were you expecting a confession? You already know that particular truth. I am illegitimate. I told you so last night.”

  “Yes, you did.” Garit was sure she hadn’t told him all of it. Deciding it was time to change the subject, just for a short while, he looked around at the damp fields on either side of the road. “This is where we met yesterday. Where I first saw you. Turnips?” He leaned on the saddle pommel, looking more closely at the green leaves poking above the soil in neat rows.

  “Turnips here and barley sprouted in the field on the other side of the path,” Calia said. “I do like the soft green shade of barley. The Mother Mage, your Aunt Adana as Lady Elgida calls her, taught me that crops should be alternated each year to avoid wearing out the soil and to improve the yields.”

  “Yes, that’s what I do at Auremont. Aunt Adana taught me, too.” Garit glanced at her, surprising a fleeting smile on her lips. Her face softened most attractively when she smiled, until she appeared years younger than he’d first thought her. “Are you happy here, with my grandmother?”

  “I am more content than I ever expected to be in this life. People like me, girls who are unwanted, are seldom as fortunate as Mairne and I have been.” No note of self-pity sounded in her voice, just the straightforward statement of an indisputable fact.

  “Tell me about Mairne,” Garit said. He noticed the surprised look in her eyes that hinted she’d expected him to ask about her own childhood and how she’d been consigned to Talier Beguinage. He did want to investigate her past, as thoroughly as possible, but he thought she’d talk more freely about the other girl. Later he could begin to question Calia about her own past and perhaps she’d reveal why his Aunt Adana had sent her to Saumar. He knew that gathering information was just a matter of patience and diplomatic negotiation, so he was sure his methods would prove effective, even if Calia didn’t understand what he was doing.

  “Mairne is from northern Morenia,” she said. “Her family lands lie just across the Moren River. When her parents died her brother sent her to Talier because he considered her too much trouble. He told her the lady mages would keep her in line with fasting and hard penances.”

  “Is she so difficult?” Garit asked with a frown. “I’ll not allow my grandmother to be troubled by a wayward girl.”

  “She hasn’t been a problem. Lady Elgida enjoys Mairne’s high spirits and her sense of independence, and Mairne loves her. I suspect that her brother kept a mostly male establishment and didn’t relish the prospect of having to defend his sister’s honor over and over as she grew up. So, he decided to be rid of her.”

  “He could have married her off,” Garit remarked.

  “A marriage requires a dowry, even in Morenia. Whereas, a small contribution to a beguinage will buy entrance for a young, healthy girl who isn’t afraid of work.”

  “Is that what happened to you, too?” Garit asked, taking the chance that she’d give him an honest answer.

  “The only entrance fee that I could offer to Mother Mage Adana was my ability to read and write and do numbers,” she said. “My half-brother and I were destitute. He was a landless knight with only his horse and his sword and armor when he left me at Talier and rode off to seek his fortune. I haven’t heard from him since.”

  “I’m sorry for that loss. I have a sister,” Garit said. “She’s silly and giddy, and she made an impetuous marriage that I could not approve. We quarreled about it, but after a time we made our peace. I love her, and I’d never abandon her, never leave her alone in the world.”

  “Is she in Kantia?” Calia asked.

  “No, she lives in Sapaudia now, with her feckless husband and my six-year-old imp of a nephew, whom I fear one day soon I’ll be compelled to take on as my squire.”

  “You love your nephew too,” Calia said. “I can tell by the look on your face when you speak of him. How I wish—”

  “Wish what?” Garit asked, wanting to hear the rest of that oddly plaintive sentence, broken off with a sigh.

  “Only that my family could have been different, kinder, more loving. But few families are as fortunate as yours. Pay no heed to me,” she said, lifting her chin. “It was just an unhappy memory. We all have them, haven’t we? Shall we turn back now? Those clouds look as if they’ll open and drench us at any moment.”

  “Of course. I think I’ve seen most of Saumar, anyway.” Garit wondered if she actually believed he’d think the dampness on her cheeks was from the mist and the first few drops of rain. Calia was seriously troubled about something. He’d have to convince her to confide in him, for his grandmother’s sake. He did not want Lady Elgida troubled.

  The midday meal was a quiet affair. Lady Elgida appeared to be sunk in deep thought. Calia seldom spoke and the remainder of the company, which included Anders, Mairne, and Garit’s men-at-arms, as well as the manor servants, all followed the example of the three at the high table.


  “My lady?” Calia said at the end of the meal, “may I see you to your room? Would you like to rest now?”

  “No, not at all.” Lady Elgida thrust back her chair and stood. “I want to go over the estate accounts. Garit, come with us. You need to be made aware of the condition of Saumar.”

  “Yes, Grandmother.” He caught Calia’s eye. She shrugged and shook her head to indicate she knew no more about this matter than he did. Curious, Garit followed the women up the stairs and past the solar, to a small office where books and scrolls were neatly arranged upon shelves. And there, seated around a trestle table, Lady Elgida and Calia spent the afternoon explaining the workings of Saumar to him.

  Garit listened to the words they spoke, as well as to what he gradually came to believe lay behind those words. By day’s end he understood that Calia honestly cared about his grandmother. The knowledge would have been a relief to him, if only he hadn’t begun to think a dreadful truth was yet to be revealed, a possibility that gripped him with cold fear, for if he was correct no male bravery, no strength with sword or lance, nor even his diplomatic skills would avail against the greatest enemy of all, which was death. This, he decided, must be the secret Calia was hiding. He waited, but no word from either woman alleviated his anxiety. He’d have to find out what he wanted to know on his own.

  Evening brought another subdued meal at which Garit ate almost nothing. After Calia had seen Lady Elgida to her chamber and had returned to the hall, Garit made her sit by the fire with him.

  “I believe I know what your secret is,” he began, forsaking diplomacy because he was so worried.

  “My secret?” She turned so pale that he feared she’d faint and she began twisting her long fingers together in her lap. “My lord, what do you mean?”