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The assembly was a rowdy one, filling the pavilion
in Therenborough's flower gardens. Catcalls and good
wishes floated with equal density on the spring evening
air, until the bride walked through the doorway. Then
a sudden hush fell over the crowd, their beaming faces
conveying their joy. The bride, however, pink to the
tips of her Elven ears, had eyes only for the paladin
standing at the back of the pavilion to one side of
the cleric they'd invited to produce a miracle for them.
Coming to her senses, the blushing Elf floated toward
her groom, conscious of his crystal blue eyes burning
into her though she couldn't seem to lift her gaze from
her feet. As she passed friends and family, a hand stole
out to squeeze hers here and another there to touch
her gown, whispered felicitations marked her progress,
until at last she was there where she belonged, at the
man's side. They both turned to face their friend, the
cleric, but sidelong gazes at each other were difficult
to interrupt long enough to participate in the service.
The cleric, an Elothian, watched the two she was marrying
throughout the ceremony. She thought as she spoke that
of all the couples she had wed in this strange world,
this couple perhaps was most deserving of the happiness
they found in each other. As if they'd been touched
by the gods, the two had gravitated together, and from
the day they met, had each had eyes for no other through
all sorts of tribulation and joy, had fit together like
a strong hand and the supple thin leather glove that
covered it. As she stopped to wait for their vows, she
found herself purring aloud, a most contented sound
that wrought chuckles from the guests.
With release from the semblance of paying attention
to her, the Elf and her human love faced each other,
staring deep into one another's eyes and hearts. She
earnestly murmured her love for him and her promises
to ease his life and bring him joy. Then he, voice ringing
out through the stillness, spoke. "One heart, one
goddess, one life. Thus shall we be through the grace
of our Lady, Tamsine."
~~~~~~~
With her own purr of satisfaction, a stocky plain woman,
beautiful in her simplicity, turned from the reflecting
pool and retreated to her hearth, settling herself at
a spinning wheel. As she picked up the half-spun ball
of cotton and her foot found the treadle, her eyes caught
another woman's mocking gaze. Chuckling, she said, "Give
over, sister. I've touched those two myself." Her
foot began to bob, turning the wheel as she twisted
the cotton strands together.
"We'll see, won't we?" A cackle, and the
dark form of the sister vanished out the door of the
cottage into the gathering evening.
The lady at the spinning wheel never faltered. As she
worked, a peaceful smile stole its way across her face,
and she spun as the last of the sun's light abandoned
the sky and the fire was left alone to illumine her
work.
~~~~~~~~
At the pavilion, loud huzzahs and clamored jibes drowned
the newlyweds in sound as they kissed for the first
time as husband and wife. With a last private smile
into each other's eyes, they turned to face their loved
ones's happiness and share their own. The celebration
had not lasted long when a chill fell over the garden,
heralded by the call of horns and the sound of tramping
feet. The bride's face paled, and her hands and eyes
reached for her husband. He smiled down at her and shook
his head slightly. The damage to the party was done,
however. With frowns and suddenly quiet tongues, the
guests began to take their leave, shifting blades and
bows into readiness and tugging armor back into place.
Finally, the last two in the pavilion, the Elf faced
her paladin. "Must you go, my heart?"
"Not this night, love. This night belongs to you."
He smiled into her eyes and kissed her fingers. "Come.
I've made arrangements at the Inn. We'll be safe there
from whatever passes here tonight."
Immediately she blushed again and began filling her
arms with boxes and baskets, till she stood helplessly
surveying the piles left on the ground. He chuckled
and emptied box after box into his backpack. "Think
they'll note their precious boxes left here, dear one?"
he smiled.
She chuckled and shook her head. "Just put them
on the benches, love. Perhaps another who has need will
find them, and the benches will keep them up out of
the wet." He nodded, and in another moment, they
were winding their way through the dusky gardens to
the gate. Through the town they walked carefully, peering
down streets before taking them, trying to avoid the
growing sounds of discord around them. At an intersection,
they could hear swordplay and people yelling, and they
turned away from it though it took them away from their
destination; there would be a safer direction to take.
Finally they arrived at the Inn, stepping through its
wooden gate and feeling an abrupt change in the atmosphere
as though weight had been lifted from them. Once more
she smiled at him, cheeks engagingly pink, and his eyes
deepened and darkened as he gazed down at her, amazed
at the strength of his feelings. With a wondering shake
of his head, he took her arm and pulled her gently through
the Inn door and up the steps, ignoring the festive
sounds from the common room in favor of being alone.
At the top of the steps, he glanced at her again to
find her eyes on him. He smiled at her and knocked on
the mahogany door. It was supposed to be theirs for
the night, but one never knew. . . He swung the door
open and walked in to dump his burden of gifts on the
floor. Then he returned to his bride on the doorstep.
Gently he reached down to brush his lips across her
mouth, and then he swung her up into his arms. Stepping
through the door and kicking it closed behind him, hearing
the latch fall of its own accord, he set his new wife
on the capacious bed and stepped back to savor the sight
of her, rosy and burning bright as a morning sun in
spite of the tears of joy on her face.
As the years passed, they took great delight in recounting
how their wedding had taken place on the eve of the
Gorbesh invasion. With a lewd wink, the Elf would tell
her daughters, "You thought it was the Gorbesh
rocking the world that night, didn't you?" She
would hum to herself as the girls giggled, and her husband
would chuckle and kiss her on the top of her head.
~~~~~~~
She looked up calmly as her dark sister slammed in
the door, scowling. "I could feel your hand in
that, you know. I haven't forgotten," the sister
groused.
Chuckling, she replied, "I told you I'd touched
those two and to leave them be, didn't I? But it wasn't
me who stopped your plans, you goose. The web you threw
missed them, but not because of anything I did."
She smiled gently at her angry sibling who growled in
the back of her throat as she picked at a ravelling
thread on her sleeve.
"It was 'Breda, then." Harawep scowled even
more deeply. The other sister, Tamsine, smiled at her
as she shrugged, and then she turned back to her cooking,
stirring the big pot hanging over the fire in the open
fireplace.
Harawep, her face glowering under her tousled dark
hair, muttered, "You wait. It's not over yet."
As Tamsine glanced up questioningly, Harawep made a
moue of impatience and stalked into the corner behind
the chimney, a dark and dusty alcove sheltered by layer
upon layer of spidersilk. She stood pondering the webs
for a moment before narrowing her eyes and smiling dangerously
as she began carefully to rearrange her pets' handiwork.
Tamsine shook her head and smiled, calling softly out
the nearby window from which she could see the dovecote
near the gate. "'Breda, come in. Dinner's ready."
Not waiting for an answer, she pulled some bowls and
cups from a shelf and readied the table for their meal.
~~~~~~~~
The years passed, too quickly as it later seemed, with
scarce an ill-spoken word. Well, there had been that
one stretch where the paladin became convinced his wife
was too attentive to his guild-brother. How delighted
Harawep had been at breaking through Tamsine's wards
of safety woven tightly around the couple! And what
a rage she'd been in when she found one of Albreda's
doves feasting among her pets before serious damage
could be wrought to the Elf and her husband! Through
it all, Tamsine merely smiled and went about her work,
confident in the magic she'd wrought. Let Harawep rage,
and let Albreda blithely tend her birds. Tamsine trusted
the bonds she'd fostered through the years since she'd
brought the man to search for the Elf so long ago.
Eventually it seemed Harawep lost interest in the battle
of wills. She withdrew from her sisters, spending more
time in her corner or out of the cottage. Ordinarily
Tamsine, perhaps even Albreda, would have become curious
and concerned about what she was up to, but there were
odd things afoot that called their attention away from
their dark sibling.
For instance, there had been green lightning with acid
rain. Many died under nature's onslaught. True, Albreda
had noticed it only when it was near over -- her favorite
dove was nesting, and 'Breda was providing the tenderest
grains and fattest worms to tempt the the bird's appetite
-- but Tamsine had helped Hodierna and Berengaria with
the work of healing the lands with nary a thought given
to how such an abomination had come about in the first
place. Strange creatures appeared in distant places,
but news travelled slow in the sultry days of summer,
slower still in winter's chill, and Tamsine was engrossed
at the time in weaving a subtle pattern into the tapestry
of some other life. Albreda was spending a great deal
of time in the dovecote, having nearly converted it
into living quarters for herself as well, and could
scarce be bothered with anything save the odd wedding.
Neither made connection between Harawep's growing absence
and the gathering shadows over the lands they all tended.
~~~~~~~~
The Elf, older now by some years and with a streak
of silver running through her curly auburn hair, woke
to a brilliant sunny morning. She yawned luxuriously
and stretched her hand out to her husband -- who was
not there. Blinking, she sat up and looked about the
one-room cabin, her covering falling to her lap. She
frowned and pulled herself from the bed. Quickly she
dressed and peeked out the door. No sign of him. How.
. .odd. She closed the door quietly behind her, the
wrinkles between her eyebrows deepening, until she saw
the folded paper on the table. Snatching it up, she
peered at it closely. She could see the squiggles that
meant her love had signed it, but. . .blast it all!
Where were those pesky girls when she needed them? She
sighed and folded the note again, creasing it carefully
along its original lines, and tucked it into her bodice.
Later, after the chores were done, she could seek out
someone to decipher it for her.
Several hours later, out for a hunt in the fields not
far from home, someone indeed was able to read the note.
However, it said little. "This eve. Arena."
That and her husband's scrawled initial. Sighing, she
tucked the note back away and focussed on the wolves
hiding in the brush around her, an adversary she could
battle and defeat for the most part.
Idly she scuffed her feet across the packed dirt of
the Arena. The night was fine, stars close enough to
touch in the chill air. She'd had a busy day, good luck
in the hunt, and her dearest love was coming to her.
Humming happily under her breath, arms gracefully moving
through the space around her, she began to dance around
the Arena floor. On the second circuit, just as she
was ready for a high kick to send her gauzy skirt flying,
she saw his form standing just inside the gate, his
gaze locked on her. Beaming she ran toward him, arms
outstretched to catch him, but he stepped back as she
neared.
"Love? What is it? What's wrong?" Her voice
was hushed and a bit frightened. He merely shook his
head and then looked up at the sky for a moment.
Quietly, he said, "I go." And suiting his
actions to his words, he turned to leave.
"No!" she cried out frantically. She grabbed
at his arm and pulled herself in front of him to stop
him. "What is this!? Tell me, what's wrong? You
can't do this!" A tear spilled down her cheek as
he stood in front of her, not moving, not saying a word.
"What have I done? What must I do? Tell me, love,
anything! Don't do this to me. . .to us. . ."
He sighed. He shook his head. He glanced around at
the empty Arena. Finally he took her arm and pulled
her into the shadows where he could whisper. Words of
farewell he laid before her, promises of never-dying
love, a growled tale of vows of personal sacrifice made
to benefit a greater good, all drenched in the ache
of their two breaking hearts. The only answer she could
give, she gave. She knelt before him and kissed his
dusty boots, her tears speckling them as she pledged
her heart anew, whether he would have it or nay. Finally,
his own eyes aswim, he pulled himself away and strode
out the gate, where he no longer had to watch his wife's
life destroyed as she lay in the dirt, sobbing.
~~~~~~
Tamsine sat bolt upright in bed, her heart racing.
She frowned. What was it that had woken her? She listened
and could hear nothing untoward. She peeked through
the bedcurtains, but everything she could see was undisturbed.
Troubled, she laid back down and snuggled into her pillow,
her cat purring against her belly. After a moment, she
leaped up and flailed her way out through the curtains.
Cursing under her breath, she hesitated and then ran
into the next room, where she lit a taper at the fire
and quickly crossed to the reflecting pool that stood
ready to catch the moon's image. She set her light on
the floor behind her and moved to where the reflection
filled her vision of the water's surface. There she
stood very still, gazing at it, waiting.
After a time, her face flushed and crumpled, she trailed
her fingers in the water to disturb what she saw. There
was no need to see more. It was very clear whose hands
had been at work, even without the black spidersilk
that overlaid her visions. With a heavy sigh she turned
back to the banked fire and stiffly lowered herself
to a seat in front of it. She hardly took note of the
big orange cat that rubbed against her, though her hand
petted it. Only the fire drew her gaze, the red and
yellow and white carousing through the coals in unending
patterns of color and heat.
~~~~~~~
War grew in the lands the sisters tended. It always
waxed and waned, that had been the way of the world
since time began, but this promised to be a drawn-out
and deadly affair, by far the worst in recent history.
Tamsine said nothing to her sisters, but in solitary
moments, she was drawn to her pool to watch the misery
unfolding elsewhere. She borrowed some doves from Albreda
and sent them winging to some of her friends, Berengaria
and Hodierna, Meraud and Kertigen, even Damaris the
Dark, and in the days following, a smidgeon of hope
grew hither and yon. Quick healing, stronger blades,
stealth and sophisticated combat moves, all helped to
stem the evil tide spreading across the face of the
"civilized" world.
Tamsine did what she could do. Not a wife in the lands
but felt Tamsine's calming hand as they tended the homes
bereft of breadwinners, raised children alone, hunted
and farmed and cooked and kept on holding life together.
Where she could, Tamsine touched the men, too, even
in battle, to remind them of what they fought for, their
children and women and homes. In the heat of combat
or in the mind-dulling drudgery of seemingly endless
toil, the goddess would touch a forehead or a hand,
and peace would shine for a moment from someone's eyes
as if they were suddenly transported to a sweet-smelling,
quiet, happy place. And when the peace faded, its memory
lasted long, healing all manner of wounds that an empath
could never touch.
Harawep. . .well, that sister was in her heyday. She
loved nothing more than setting well-laid plans awry.
Every battle routed, every youth struck down in his
prime, every miserable woman who sought solace in another
man's arms, these filled her with immeasurable joy.
She kept to herself away from her sisters, for even
oblivious Albreda couldn't have helped but see the dark
aura of exultation surrounding her.
However, Albreda wasn't as inattentive as her sisters
thought her. She'd taken note of Tamsine's pet project
set awry by Harawep's love of discord, and she was having
her own thoughts about the origins of the conflicts
that beset the world. When no one was watching, she
sent one of her favorite doves to nest in a tree near
a certain Elf's doorway, and thus she was able to watch
events there unfold, even as Tamsine did. Another followed
a war-weary man as he trudged from one fight to the
next, heavy of heart and turning feral. He, of course,
took no note of it, even when it fluttered down to pick
at his supper crumbs one evening. But Albreda found
it plain that the bonds her older sister had wrought
still held, however tenuously. She said nothing to Tamsine,
thinking it best to let things alone for the time being.
~~~~~~~
"Mai? Mai, where are you?" The call came
from the doorway where a lovely paladin woman stood,
her armor showing the wear of hard use and her face
lined from lack of sleep.
"Here, daughter. . .I was just setting out fresh
linens. Whatever's the matter?" The Elf smoothed
her hair back, studying her daughter's face anxiously,
and then began to lay out cups and a heel of bread and
a wee dish of butter for an afternoon tea. "Come,
sit and tell me what's wrong."
"Oh, Mai," the paladin sighed as she slumped
into a chair at the table. "I've had word from
Da."
The Elf stopped abruptly, her face turning beet red
as she stared into space. Quietly she asked, "Is
he well? I know he's not dead, I've not felt that."
Composing herself, she returned to cutting slices of
bread, pushing the sugar closer to her daughter, pouring
the tea.
Smiling lovingly at her mother, the daughter hesitated.
"Mai, he's back in this part of the world. He asked
for you. Would you see him?"
Her mother gaped at her, mouth open for a moment. Finally
she stammered, "Of course, you goose! How can you
even ask?! Did he say why? When? Where should I find
him? Is he all right? After all these years. . . How
does he look?"
Chuckling, the younger woman held up a hand. "Mai,
please! One at a time!" She grinned at her mother.
"He did not say why, he's fine, he'll meet you
at the beech woods two evenings hence, and he looks
weary, like all of us do."
The blushing Elf wrung her hands in her lap. "Will
he make me weep again? What can he want?" Jumping
up from her chair, she yanked the clean bedding off
the bed and threw it into a basket, tore open the windowsash
and leaned out to scent the wind, snatched up the rug
from in front of the bed and tossed it out the door,
started to clear the tea things from the table.
"Mai! Stop it!" Giggles sounded very strange
coming from a battleworn woman, but they were enough
to make the Elf grin at herself and replace the teapot
within her daughter's reach.
"Tell him I'll be there if you see him, yes?"
She smiled at her daughter, who nodded and tore into
the bread.
"Have any apples left, Mai?"
~~~~~~~~~
Tamsine glanced around, half-expecting to see Harawep's
scowl behind her. That lovely, however, was nowhere
to be seen. Tamsine blew softly on the water's surface
and turned from the pool, humming softly. Just outside
the window, Albreda hesitated on her way to the dovecote.
She turned toward the window, puzzled at the unaccustomed
sound, and then a smile broke across her face and she
continued toward her birds.
~~~~~~~~~
How grim his face had become, the Elf thought to herself
as she spied on her husband through the greenery. Her
heart ached at the sight of him, and her hands reached
for him, even though she willed them to stay in her
pockets. He was standing, still as the beech trees that
sheltered him, wearily gazing into the distance. She
marked the polish on his plate, his hair still wet from
his grooming, his fresh shave and neatly mended sleeve.
Finally, with a tremulous smile, she stepped from her
shelter and walked quietly to where he waited.
Her eyes never left his face as she approached, and
she did not miss the leap of flame in his as he caught
sight of her. It made her heart beat faster and her
breath come quicker, so that it was difficult to do
more than breathe, "My heart..." He smiled
faintly and bowed to her, a stiff and correct bow that
made her stop abruptly in her tracks, ill at ease.
"May we speak?" he asked quietly, and at
her nod, he smiled again and took her hand. Silently
he pulled her after him deeper into the woods. When
they'd gone quite some way, he stopped at the base of
a huge beech tree and gazed up into its branches. He
glanced at his wife and back up into the tree. Taking
the Elf's hands and pulling her arms about his neck,
he began to climb, carrying his wife on his back.
There was a platform built near the top of the tree,
left by some enterprising youth who'd claimed this fortress
as their own in years gone past, and there was a magical
view of the nearby lake. The paladin and his Elf stood
close together and gazed out over the water for a time
before he turned to her, his heart in his eyes as they
bore into hers.
Much of the evening after that moment remained a blur
in her memory for the rest of her life, yet she always
pointed to it as one of the happiest times she'd ever
spent with him. Few details passed between them save
the single important fact that each felt their heart
to reside in the other's breast. And once that was acknowledged
and properly celebrated with many an embrace, there
was quiet and joyful sharing of things that mattered
most to them both. Their family had weathered the wars,
their homes were still standing, and always they returned
to the exquisite happiness of being together once more
in body as well as soul.
~~~~~~~
Tamsine laughed softly as she looked up from her pool
to see her sister's thundrous countenance. "Why,
sister, whatever's the matter?" she asked cheerily.
Harawep glared at her, fists clenching at her sides,
and then with a growl, she pushed at the reflecting
pool, in actuality a huge shallow dish that rested on
a short pedestal. It crashed loudly to the floor, splashing
water across the stone and hissing as some drops landed
in the fire. Tamsine threw back her head and laughed
heartily.
Then she drew herself up and stepped closer to her
sister. "Harawep," she said in a ringing voice.
"I gave you warning that those two were under my
shield. Did that stop you? Nooo. . .you had to keep
meddling, just to spite me." Tamsine's eyes narrowed
and flashed as she stared at her angry sister. Quietly,
with a voice that would cut as quickly as the sharpest
steel, she said, "Do not cross me again, sister
mine. Do not dare."
Harawep's face looked ready to explode, her mouth working
as though unable to spit out the angry words she had
ready. Finally with a shriek, she threw up her arms
and whirled away. Striding to her alcove behind the
chimney, she stopped suddenly. Her face grew ghostly
pale, and she stood stockstill. Albreda's tinkling laughter
came through the open window. "Have you finished
your dinner, my beauties? Come, fly away now. Someone's
marrying soon, and we have work to do." Harawep
brushed helplessly at the empty spiderwebs hanging along
the walls of her corner. Tamsine turned politely away.
"Here, kitty kitty," she called as she stepped
out the door into the evening's caress.
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