The Last Oracle

by Colvin, Delia

  Again, he attempted a smile.

  Finally, he spoke, but there was a strange tone to his voice. “You didn’t do anything wrong.” He glanced up at her and brushed her face. “Val, I don’t mean to be overly personal…but do you have…” He shook his head. “I mean, have you had…” He looked up in frustration, expecting that she would not force him to finish his question.

  She would have answered if she had any clue of what he was asking. Had she had a flu shot? Or did she have food allergies? She wished they could just ignore this and get back to their honeymoon.

  Something must have been wrong with the eggs they had the morning before. Or perhaps something about scuba diving just disagreed with her—maybe someone who was sick had used her mouthpiece—that thought made her gag, but she managed to push it from her mind.

  “Have I had what?” she asked, as his face reddened and he turned away.

  “Val,” he said with a nervous gulp. “I don’t really know about these things.” His face flushed again.

  “About what?” she said, beginning to feel just a bit frustrated.

  His voice seemed higher than in his normal range when he asked, “Could you be…”

  Sudden understanding flooded her consciousness, and she almost laughed—and then she realized that he was serious.

  “Oh! You’re…asking about my cycle?”

  No one had ever asked her about her menstrual cycles, except the social worker who wanted to ensure that she wasn’t pregnant…yet.

  “Oh!” she said, embarrassed.

  Suddenly, her mind reeled back to the awkward conversation with her caseworker. The woman who Valeria always imagined had been conned one too many times.

  “Listen to me, Valeria. Birth control is your responsibility! Don’t you think for an instant that you can trick some boy into marrying you and giving you a happily-ever-after because you allowed yourself to get knocked-up. I’ve seen that far too often. Do you know what they do, Valeria? They leave you—do you understand me?” she said, waving a small foil-wrapped package.

  That little conference had occurred a month after Valeria had turned fourteen and she had prayed that the woman wouldn’t demonstrate the use of the condom on a banana again. She had seen little boys naked and she couldn’t imagine that they could grow into something that would fit into a condom.

  “Here—take these and remember what I said, Valeria! Birth control is your responsibility!”

  Suddenly, she understood Alex’s question all too clearly.

  “Alex, no…No! I’m not.” She started to laugh when she heard her voice, realizing that she sounded nearly hysterical. This was silly because Alex was her husband and they needed to be able to talk about these things. “I’m sorry, I didn’t even think about,” she gulped, “birth control. But I’m sure I’m not…” She couldn’t even say it. “I haven’t ever had a regular cycle and, last year, after the plague, I haven’t had one at all.”

  Alex wasn’t her first lover. But he was the first man to make love to her. She had been engaged to David and they had slept together, occasionally, for years. And, although she had offered to get some form of birth control, David had preferred to use condoms. It always made her feel as if he felt that she was diseased. He had seen the blood test she’d taken for him, and he knew she had a clean bill of health. But somehow, her background as a foster child lent itself, in David’s warped way of thinking, to promiscuity.

  Somehow, she had believed that the high fever had destroyed her ability to have children. But, frankly, she didn’t believe that oracles had children. None of them did—except Alex’s parents, she remembered. It had been her responsibility to think of these things—Alex would have never thought of it. She again remembered the social workers words and cringed.

  “Men leave when they are trapped.”

  Her stomach was flat. She had gained some weight, but during the honeymoon, that was to be expected. Besides, she wasn’t running like she used to do. Certainly, she would know if she was carrying a child in her belly.

  He patted her leg calmly. “Val, let’s call Mani.”

  She shook her head, embarrassed. “No, Alex! I’m not…I would know if I was. Please don’t call Mani,” she begged.

  “I can call the doctor at the resort, but frankly, I would prefer that Mani examine you,” he said flatly. He was upset, Valeria assessed. She did not want anyone asking her what type of birth control she had used, and was horrified to have to admit that she had failed to plan. They would give her that look—as if she was trying to get something past them. She imagined the patient look of concern on Mani’s face suddenly filled with suspicion when he discovered her error.

  “I’m certain I’m not…but if you are going to insist on this, you can buy tests in a store.”

  “In a store?” Alex asked. She bit her lip and nodded.

  “Alright, I’m going to have them drive me to the store and see if I can find a test. Maybe they have a pharmacist here who can get one for me. I’ll be back within the hour.”

  He sat her on the bed next to him and absently brushed his lips over her forehead. Then she watched as he dressed without showering or shaving—something he never did—and headed out the door without another word to her.

  She glanced at her belly again. For some reason, she never even thought of the possibility of having children, and—by his reaction—she suspected that Alex hadn’t either. Valeria had to admit, there was a piece of her that was excited by the thought; and then she felt ashamed of herself for the seeming deception.

  Shaking her head, she wondered, what was she thinking? She wasn’t pregnant. She was just—it was probably all those gas fumes from yesterday. She lay back down on the bed. Still, what if she was pregnant, and what if Alex wasn’t just stunned? What if he didn’t want children?

  All her fears continued to build until he walked back in the door, looking incredibly solemn, and handed her a brown paper bag. She stared at it for a moment.

  “Val, would you ease my mind and take the test now?”

  Taking in his words, she realized that he wanted her to “ease his mind.” That certainly told her how he felt about it all. He did feel trapped by her irresponsible actions. A wave of insecurity engulfed her and she fought back her tears again.

  At least, in the bathroom, she could hide her tears if they came. Then when she came out, she could reassure Alex that she wasn’t pregnant, that it was just the flu as she suspected. Then they could plan on...birth control. She should have asked him to pick up a box of condoms while he was at the market. Of course the results would be negative, and the sooner she got this test over with, the sooner they could get back to the joy of their honeymoon.

  But now, it would be a while until they enjoyed spontaneous lovemaking without the prerequisite condom—despite the fact that she was still certain she wasn’t able to have children. Perhaps Mani would be able to confirm that on their trip to Puerto Rico.

  Valeria vowed that she would never again do anything that would make Alex feel as though he were tricked into parenthood—even though it was impossible. Something special between them felt as if it had evaporated, and she worried that it was gone forever.

  No, she couldn’t believe that. Things would be normal as soon as she showed him that she wasn’t pregnant. Next week, Mani would confirm that she couldn’t bear children and that would be that. It wasn’t necessarily what she wanted, it was just the way it was.

  She scooted off the bed, feeling wooden as she carried the little brown bag into the bathroom and shut the door without saying a word—not out of anger, but confusion. There had been too many changes in their relationship and expectations in the past hour.

  ∞

  The two red lines on the white stick were clear enough. According to the test she had taken twenty minutes before—and the instructions she had read and re-read five times—that meant she was, indeed, pregnant. Her emotions were a mishmash of excitement buried in the shame of having done this to her husb
and—who clearly did not want children. She couldn’t bring herself to leave the bathroom, instead opting to read the instructions once again, believing that perhaps she had missed something and this was all a mistake. How could she tell him?

  She fidgeted as she heard his footsteps approach the door and linger for a moment. Then he knocked softly.

  “Val? Is everything all right?”

  Unable to trust her voice, she refused to answer him. She knew she couldn’t stay in the bathroom forever. She rose from the edge of the bathtub and walked to the door. By the time she opened it, she was sobbing. She held up the stick that bore the proof of her irresponsibility, and fell into his body to hide her shame. His arms slowly folded around her, as he whispered in her ear, “It’s going to be all right. Everything’s going to be all right.”

  He held her on the bed for an hour while she sobbed and then fell asleep. Alex ran his thumb over the dark circles under her eyes. Then he rose; he couldn’t think about this in the same room. Somehow, he felt that she would sense his thoughts and he didn’t want that now. He walked out the front door and down the green hillside until he could see the Pitons. He dropped to the ground and pulled up his knees as the terrifying memory flooded his vision.

  CHAPTER 11

  Florence, 1573

  “I could never take her youth,” Alex said from the ancient room in the Medici castle that served as their classroom.

  Mani stepped forward and took the book that Alex was staring at.

  “Love Poems,” Mani said, raising his brows as if the book was evidence of Alex’s feelings, and then he dropped it into Alex’s satchel. “Lita tells me that Isabella speaks of you with great affection. You could easily pay her dowry.”

  “She is a child, Mani. I want her to choose me when she has the wisdom to make that decision.”

  “In the state’s eyes, she is a woman. She will be married to this other man unless you step forward.”

  “It’s too late for that now,” Alex muttered, tossing another book in his bag. “Whomever she marries will age while she remains young and beautiful. That’s why you and Melitta must remain here at the palace. When the time is right, you can bring her to me. I will tell her the truth about her mortality, and then—and only then—if she chooses me, we will be together for eternity.”

  ∞

  He intended to be gone before Isabella left the feast, in order to avoid the inevitable goodbye. It was something he simply could not bear to say to his beloved. Isabella had sensed that, and was waiting for him in the stables.

  “Was I such a terrible student that you could not delay your leave until such a time as I might properly wish my dearest tutor well?”

  Alex’s smile was wistful. Even at fifteen, she had a radiant beauty and he knew that he must be cautious with his glances toward her.

  “Hardly!” he said, tossing a bag onto his saddle and then fastening it. Staying busy was his best defense. “I am certain, Isabella, that you have far more on your mind than the comings and goings of your tutor.”

  She brushed her hand along the neck of the horse as Alex continued fastening his saddlebags.

  “Since I first met you, I used to dream that you were a prince who someday might carry me off.”

  Alex’s expression became a subtle cross between a smile and a wince. He stopped his activity and turned to her.

  “And now you are betrothed to a prince—Signore Carrara, isn’t that correct?”

  “Yes, but he isn’t a prince—not a real one. Father says that he is handsome and powerful. He says it will be a good union.”

  “I'm certain your father chose wisely,” he said returning to his activity.

  “Yes. If only a certain tutor saw a match with me as a good union.”

  She did love him! He drew in a deep breath and tried to keep his joy from betraying his feelings.

  “Although that tutor would be quite honored,” he forced himself to breathe out, “your father would never consider that a good union!” He could sense that she was embarrassed. To ease the tension, he smiled softly. “My hope for you, my beautiful Isabella, is a joyful life.”

  The moment had passed and now they were left with the awkwardness of her confession.

  “May I ask, tutor...what will you do now?”

  “Thanks to your father, I have references that will assure me a post with any royal family.” His eyes narrowed. “However, I don't believe that there would be another child so bright as you to hold my interests.”

  “You could stay on. Perhaps in the not-so-distant future you could tutor our children.”

  “Yes,” he said, clipping his response. He wasn’t certain he could watch another man treat her like property again. He wasn’t certain he could bear to watch her love another man. But the reality was that she would not age beyond twenty-seven, only blossom, and it would only be a matter of years until her husband would be dead and gone. Alex would stay here and be a part of her life; and now, knowing that she cared for him, it would be easier to wait for her. Only twenty years—fifty at the most—and he would have his eternity with her, if she still chose him.

  “You will return for my wedding, won’t you?”

  “Unfortunately, I’ve made other arrangements that I do not believe I will be able to reschedule,” he said, a near lie. Seeing the hurt expression on her face, he said, “Remember, Isabella, you may always visit me at my humble estate.”

  “Morgana.”

  “You remembered.” He smiled.

  “Of course! I shall remember everything about you.” Her eyes glowed intently and he knew he had to leave.

  ∞

  The horse seemed to resent the trip back to Morgana and away from Isabella, almost as much as Alex did. His lazy clip-clop was beginning to annoy Alex. Then he realized where his annoyance truly was coming from. It was evening, and Isabella, his Cassandra, was married to another man…again.

  It was right that he left. If he had seen her walking down the aisle, he wasn’t certain he could restrain himself from confessing his love for her—or worse, kidnapping her. As much as Isabella’s father admired Alex, it would be treated as an act of war. And she would feel frightened instead of loved. They would be in hiding, instead of her living the life she was destined for.

  He returned to Morgana and busied himself with the cottage that he had built for the girl—not the princess. The large estate up the hill might be more to her liking. He had to think only of the future—he had to stay busy with preparations of Morgana for the day when she would finally be here with him. He would work on the larger home.

  After weeks of hard work, he received a letter.

  My dearest tutor,

  I received your message and your very generous wedding gift...too generous. Thank you, we shall treasure them always.

  Soon we will be travelling to Venice and then north. My husband was disappointed to not have met the tutor who I ramble on about. As my father insisted that you be retained as a tutor for our children, my husband wishes to meet you in person.

  My dear husband tells me that he is familiar with your “Morgana” and believes that you have a home large enough to accommodate two weary travelers.

  I hope it is not too presumptuous of me to ask. We shall arrive next Thursday at noon. If it is not possible, we shall stay at the nearby inn in Trento.

  Your former pupil, now all grown up,

  Isabella

  Alex stared at the letter as he awaited Isabella’s arrival. His heart pounded and he longed to see her. Secretly, he hoped that her husband was a buffoon, but he knew her father too well. He adored his daughter and would not have permitted a buffoon into the family.

  He heard the carriage and exited the cottage. He would be cordial to her husband and offer them a room in the main house. He would retreat to his cottage where he could dream of his life someday with Isabella.

  The door of the carriage flew open in what was deemed a most unfashionable manner, but Isabella’s exuberance defied the rule
s of the day. The coachman rushed to help her out of the carriage, but Alex beat him to it and lifted her by the waist, lowering her to the ground as he had done many times. This time, her arms squeezed around his neck and her eyes sparkled.

  “You look well, Isabella. Married life agrees with you.”

  “It does!” she said with a spark that took the wind out of Alex. “I am anxious for you to meet my new husband!” she whispered.

  Alex explored the changes on her face. She was flush with excitement and, this time, it was not because of him—it was because of her husband. His heart sank. Still, in fifty years, at the most, this husband would be gone.

  The man stepped out of the carriage and Alex saw him from the corner of his eye; he was stylishly dressed, tall and slim, olive-complexioned, and had jet-black hair. Then, Alex heard the all too familiar voice. “Bella, so I finally meet the man who shall tutor our children.”

  Alex felt his heart sink. He glanced over to confirm his suspicion, barely concealing his surprise or his anger—it was Paolo. Alex wondered how Paolo could have known where Isabella was. Why would he have married the one woman who belonged with Alex? Paolo knew she was Alex’s symbolon.

  The last time he had seen Paolo, 2,000 years before, Alex had refused to fight him in a dual. It was a ridiculous idea—what good was a duel with immortals? Once Paolo and Alex realized that Cassandra reincarnated, and they found her body in the river, Paolo expected that Alex would return to his sister, Kristiana, and again be the dutiful husband.

  Alex, in his deepest grief—having just lost Cassandra again—told Paolo that he could no longer be with Kristiana, that the marriage was a mistake. Paolo had drawn his sword, prepared to run Alex through and defend his sister. When Alex did nothing to defend himself, Paolo opted to release his rage in a more satisfying way—with his fists.