Child of the Kindred, page 73
part #2 of The Rienfield Chronicles Series
Eavan paused for a moment wiping the tears from her eyes, taking in all that had just been revealed to her, then leaning over, she embraced Queen Alana warmly.
“Thank you, Mother. Thank you and dear Laurel for giving my heart the peace I have yearned for. Yes, I wish Cahir and me to lay our child to rest,” Eavan smiled, with trembling lips.
The Queen only nodding and placing her hand on the side of Eavan’s face.
The warm first rays of the sun seemed to breathe life into everything it touched, ice no longer hanging from the tree branches in the back garden. The warm earthy scent of the rich soil filled the air, as the gardener gently covered the small box holding its precious contents. Cahir and Eavan smiled lovingly at each other through their tears, as they said goodbye to their child, under the protective boughs of the plum tree in the Great Lodge garden.
The terrified group was led further down the mine on the narrow path, the air becoming staler and harder to breathe. The shackles cutting mercilessly into their ankles. Hungry, exhausted, their throats parched from thirst, they finally reached a small cavern, lit by large crystals that were hung by iron holders along the wall. One of the shackled men collapsed, causing the others to lose their footing and fall as well. The slaver leading the group walked over and began beating the first man with a short whip, cursing and berating him.
“Stop! You must stop!” a small, shrill and strangely inhuman voice called out, echoing through the chamber.
The slaver stopped his attack looking over to where the voice came from, as a strange rapid scraping sound could be heard, the group of men crying out in terror at what they beheld. The large ant-like figure stopped moving and stood up, just short of where the group sat huddled together on the ground. It stood not much taller than a child of twelve seasons, roughly the height and size of a Kedesh male, its huge black eyes almost covering its oval head, its mouth a sharp jagged bill. It held up four thin but powerful looking arms, standing on two thicker sturdier legs. Its body reflected the soft glow of the crystals, almost as if it wore armour.
“You must stop. They will not last the night if you continue to abuse them,” the creature spoke in a calmer more persuasive voice.
“Fine, digger. Just take care of them and make sure you keep the chain locked. Anymore escape, it will be your head,” the slaver growled at the creature, throwing it a set of keys which it caught in one of its clawed hands.
The slaver then turned and left the chamber, the group of men now looking more curious than afraid, staring at the strange being, who for a moment, looked back at them blinking several times. Then turning its head, made a soft buzzing sound and instantly, three more of them scurried into the chamber. The men yelled out in fear once more, causing the first creature to move forward, placing its arms up again.
“No harm! We mean no harm. We are no more than slaves, just as you are. Please, take a drink, we will not hurt you. My name is Kaveh. Our people are called the Golan. I am one of the few amongst us that speak common. Please, drink and take a piece of bread, you must replenish yourselves,” Kaveh gestured with his arms to the other Golans that walked over to the group, offering drinks of water from a bucket which held a ladle, and large round, dense cakes.
The men hesitated, the older man in the group was the first to take a drink from the offered bucket. He then looked over and nodded to the Golan, quietly and patiently standing still while he drank.
“Go on lads, take a drink, the bread tastes a bit strange, but it is still food. Thank you, Kaveh. My name is Nigel, and we are from the village of York, on the far eastern borders of Gwenlais. We have been walking for over a fortnight with little food or water, and not much rest. Please, tell us, where are we?” Nigel asked, his voice hoarse and weary.
“You are in the hidden valley of Shuppim. The home of where the Golan began ageless times ago. The slavers only know of one way in and out. We, Golan, have several others. We tried to warn your people, but they fear us, our appearance frightens them. Several of our hatchlings died at their hands when we sent them to warn of what was happening. Your people are very frail and are not meant to live here underground, forced to take the riches of the earth. We will help you as much as we can, we will help some of you to escape, but please, you must promise, you must take one of us with you, to tell others of our plight. To inform the great King of the West how our peoples suffer,” Kaveh entreated as he leant down and uttered softly to Nigel.
Nigel looked over at the others from his village, several of them nodding in acknowledgement.
“Help the two youngest amongst us to escape, and they will tell of our plight. They will inform the King,” Nigel replied, his voice filled with conviction.
Kaveh looked at his companions, and they spoke quietly in their shrill rapid speech, then looked back over at the group.
“We will help the ones you choose to escape as soon as it is possible. You must be ready when we say before you become too weak. They will move you further down the mine, and there is little hope after that. You will get too sick, just as the others have,” Kaveh explained, blinking his large eyes slowly.
“What others?” Nigel asked, and as if on cue, two Golans entered the chamber carrying the body of a captured villager out of the mine.
“Many others,” Kaveh answered sadly.
13: SAYING GOODBYE
The Kingdom of Heathwin was in grateful anticipation for the arrival of the early Planting Season. Most of the snow had melted down leaving muddy areas or left wet bare patches along the roadways and gardens. As he had promised, Caleb did bring the children back to visit the Rabkin Homestead. Aiden had offered to accompany them, his curiosity turning to fascination and respect, after seeing more of the Rabkins home life. The Homestead of Elder Dyfri was gracious and hospitable, offering them a midday meal. It consisted of soft round cakes made from acorn flour, and soup made of wild tubers, fresh new greens and fiddleheads. As a gift, they gave Caleb a small basket of the delicate young ferns when Caleb told them of Laurel’s fondness of fiddleheads. Oriel had brought a bracelet she had made for Aures of woven blue ribbons and matching coloured blue beads. Aures was overjoyed at seeing the children once again, as they all chatted together with Jamison acting as translator. All of the Rabkins were still amazed that Jamison could communicate with them on a basic level. Dyfri’s mate Addiena, handed Caleb a small pouch of herbal tea, instructing that Laurel has a cup every day, that it would strengthen the muscles she would use for birth. After the relaxing and enjoyable visit, they returned to the Lodge.
The children had fully recovered from their illness and were now becoming increasingly restless. The school classes would still not resume for another two months. They were not able to play in the back or side gardens as often, as the melting snow had left the gardens muddy and saturated, and they would frequently lose their boots. After several days of what seemed non-stop bickering, name calling, and shoving, Caleb finally came to the end of his patience. After breakfast, where the name calling had escalated into the children shoving each other off their chairs, Caleb stood up and brought them downstairs. Taking them into the kitchen, Caleb handed Jamison a broom.
“You will stay in here, and sweep this floor until I am satisfied with how it looks. No one is to help him either,” Caleb ordered sternly, the staff all voicing their acknowledgement at once. “You come with me,” he said to Oriel scoldingly, taking her hand and leading her to the Hall.
“Where are we going, Daidi?” Oriel asked, with obvious concern.
“You are going to the stables. You have so much energy to fight and shove your brother to the floor, then you will muck out Lorcan’s stall,” Caleb answered firmly, going over to a nearby closet where they kept coats and boots.
“But…but this is not my usual day to go the stables. Ardal will not be there! I am not dressed for it!” Oriel began to protest tearfully, struggling to put on her boots.
“You should have thought of that before you started all the raucous this morning. How many times have I told you not to act that way at the table? Now stop your fussing and button your coat. Tears are not going to change my mind,” Caleb replied, putting Oriel’s hat over her head.
“But…I will get my dress dirty,” she whimpered back pitifully.
“Then it will be washed. Put on your mittens and come with me,” Caleb stated, still annoyed with the morning’s goings on.
Taking Oriel’s hand once again and leading her out of the Lodge, Caleb ignored the wry grins of the Sentries as he walked past them to the stables. When they reached the stables, the hands looked over curiously with hearing Oriel still whining tearfully.
“You are not sorry. I told you several times at the table to stop your nonsense, and you did not listen. Now grab the broom, and come here,” Caleb directed, opening the wide door into Lorcan’s stall.
Caleb and Oriel walked in, Lorcan nickering softly at seeing his master approach, talking to him softly and caressing the length of Lorcan’s face. Caleb looked around the stall seeing it had been cleaned out recently, then looked over at Oriel with a slight grin.
“You are very fortunate mo daor, that you have so little to clean. Sweep up what is left then grab a brush, Lorcan is looking a bit dusty,” Caleb instructed further, with Oriel pouting and giving him a grumpy dejected expression.
After sweeping up the floor, accompanied by much-exaggerated sighing, Oriel picked up one of the brushes from the shelf and walked over to begin brushing Lorcan with Caleb. Lorcan turned his head, playfully nudging the little girl as she frowned at him pushing his nose away. The stallion did this twice more, Caleb smiling and shaking his head at Oriel’s obvious irritation at the stallion’s teasing her. Turning his head once more, Lorcan rumbled softly and nipped her backside playfully.
“Ouch! Lorcan stop it! Daidi, Lorcan is getting rude and irritating,” Oriel complained loudly, rubbing the spot where Lorcan had just nipped her.
“Well, maybe it is because he can sense your very grumpy mood. Now come over here, and brush his mane, and tell him what is bothering you. It will make you both feel better,” Caleb remarked, handing her a long metal comb.
“He will not understand what I am saying,” Oriel replied, still pouting grumpily.
“He understands more than you think. He listens to your tone, and he watches your expressions. I tell him my troubles all the time, and it always makes me feel better. Do I not, old man?” Caleb asked the magnificent stallion, gently caressing his neck. Lorcan answering back with a soft nicker, calmly blinking and pushing his head against Caleb’s.
Caleb looked over and smiled at Oriel, slowly brushing Lorcan’s luxuriant long mane, and listening to her quietly tell Lorcan why she found her brother and sister irritating at times.
King Fergus walked into the private chambers quietly, smiling at his wife who was standing in front of the windows looking out onto the back garden. Locking the door, he walked up behind her, placing his arms around her waist, and kissing her neck. Queen Alana smiled, putting her hand up to King Fergus’s face.
“So, mo stor. What would you say to going on a little holiday?” King Fergus asked softly, kissing the side of her face.
“A holiday? What sort of holiday?” Queen Alana asked with a curious smile as she turned to face him.
“This has been a most extraordinary winter, to say the least. I feel an early trip to Ardara is in order. We will have the house, for the most part, all to ourselves. Not having to bother with speaking common, only old speak. Just you and I, taking our meals in the Library if we wish, eating breakfast in bed, making love all morning. Would that not be delightful?” King Fergus asked in a seductive whisper, kissing Queen Alana softly while placing his hands on her waist.
“Yes, mo chroi, it certainly would be. But do you feel we should go now while the rest of the family is still adjusting to everything?” Queen Alana questioned, smiling at him lovingly.
“My love, we have helped them all as much as we have been able to. You saw Caleb’s face when you almost intervened during the children’s little shouting match this morning. They must journey through all these new things themselves. You have worked so very hard all winter to be supportive and helpful. Now, I wish to spend some time alone, with only you. Our only concerns would be what books to read and what to eat for dinner,” he countered back with a charming smile.
“It is most tempting, mo ghra. I shall give it serious thought and tell you when I have made up my mind,” she smiled back, reaching over and caressing his cheek.
“Hmm, I think you just need a bit more convincing,” King Fergus murmured, as he kissed her once again.
Marina sat in her room holding a book but not reading it. Her mind was rushing with thoughts and doubts she did not wish to deal with, but could not silence. It had been nearly two months since she had helped Aiden with his bout of illness. He had not been sick for more than a few days, but she had thought it would bring them closer. In many ways it had, as they spent quite a bit of time together, he also took her to more gatherings. Marina still found it difficult to relate to some of Aiden’s friends and acquaintances. The family, of course, she adored and found very loving and supportive, as well as those who were Sentinels and the wives or betrothed of Sentinels. The exception being, Murtagh’s young wife, Shannon. Shannon was not friendly like the others, being more akin to the young women at Ainsley’s party. Marina viewed her as antagonistic, saying snide remarks or asking personal questions out of hearing of everyone else. “Everyone is aware that Aiden never recovered from the loss of Corinn. You have simply taken her place. I suppose that is all one could really hope for,” Shannon had said to Marina at a gathering only a week ago. The most difficult thing Marina had dealt with, however, was Aiden had still not acknowledged his love to her personally. Though Laurel had told her that Aiden had said to everyone in the sitting room, that he was in love. “I know he loves you, Marina. Perhaps you just need to say it first,” Laurel had said, trying to be reassuring. Marina’s insecurities simply would not allow her to make that declaration to him, as she began to feel more and more that the words of Shannon and her companions were real. That maybe Aiden did only love her out of pity and obligation, that his heart would forever mourn Corinn. The entire week she found herself more anxious and short-tempered, becoming easily irritated with her brother and sister, and not wishing to spend the evening in Aiden’s room. When he asked her why, she could only answer that she just felt more comfortable in her own room if he wished to spend the night with her. He was still very loving and affectionate but would become ill at ease, whenever she would ask questions concerning Corinn. “Dearest, I have told you, my relationship with Corinn has nothing to do with my feelings for you. That is in the past, and I only wish to let the past go,” he had said to her a few nights ago. This time he was more impatient in tone, telling her to go to sleep and that he did not wish to discuss it again. She cried herself to sleep that night, Aiden was left feeling confused and saddened at her demeanour, holding her closer but unable to comfort her. The last few days seemed strained, everyone feeling a bit of restlessness and uneasiness over Marina’s frail moods and temper, as well as the children’s bickering. She walked over to her dressing table and opened the small chest which held treasured mementoes. Marina soon became frustrated and alarmed that she was not able to find what she was looking for, and began to search anxiously about her room.
Meanwhile, downstairs in the Grand Hall, frustration of another sort was unfolding.
Caleb and Oriel had just entered the Lodge, returning from the stable. Aiden walked out of the kitchen to meet them, wearing a very irritated look on his face.
“It appears the youngest child became very bored with sweeping the floor, and brought in another squirrel through the kitchen garden door,” Aiden informed Caleb, both looking over towards the kitchen when a scream and the sound of a pot falling, could be heard.
“By the Maker. Where is the little beast?” Caleb asked in frustration, raking his hand through his hair.
“The child or the squirrel?” Aiden asked, rolling his eyes at hearing more chaos coming from the kitchen, while Oriel covered her mouth trying to stop from laughing.
“The child,” Caleb answered with a weary sigh.
“He is hiding somewhere in the kitchen. I have no doubt he heard me say, after we catch the foolish rodent now running amok I was going to give him a good paddling,” Aiden replied, as he and Caleb made their way to the kitchen.
Oriel giggled as she walked over to the staircase where Edin sat happily humming and grinning. When Caleb and Aiden walked into the kitchen, the chaos had just increased. Now, three young maids were on top of either stools or chairs, screaming. The frantic, little red squirrel ran and climbed everywhere to avoid the cook’s furious attempts at flattening it with a broom. Cahir and King Fergus entered the room, shutting the door quickly behind them, standing back, grinning and chuckling at Caleb and Aiden’s attempts at helping the staff catch the squirrel. Aiden ended up tripping, knocking into a stool causing the maid standing on it to jump on his back, wrapping her arms around his neck while still screaming. Caleb grabbing the broom away from the cook, as she almost hit him in the face for the second time.
“Give me that you mad wench!” Caleb scolded, taking the broom away from her, causing Cahir and King Fergus to laugh raucously. “Are you two going to just stand there and laugh like idjits, or will you be making yourself useful?” Caleb asked with a scowl, only causing them to laugh more.
“You are doing an excellent job, my boy, we will only get in the way,” King Fergus gleefully replied, as Cahir continued laughing, hitting King Fergus on the arm.
After helping the maid to another stool, Aiden cursed and walked over to the door.
