Rain and Roses , Part 4

Roses and Rain, Part IV
by Merriandra Eldaronde

“Do`mannen told me that they had arrested him for plotting against the King, that they had proof of his treachery but that they needed more. I was his friend, after all.” Renna bit her lip, hard, disgusted with herself. The baby kicked again, a butterfly, a tickle, indigestion. She shifted.

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“You don’t have to…” Wil began, concerned.

She interrupted. “Yes, I do. I have to tell you. I need this. I’m the traitor, Wil, don’t you see?”

She closed her eyes, the palms of her hands flattened and tensed on the surface of the table. She could feel the wood biting into her tender skin, and she was glad for that little bit of pain, that little dose of harsh reality. “I told you that they mocked me and beat me, you saw my clothes torn and my face bloodied. You have been both employer and friend, sheltering and hiding me at no small risk to yourself, and yet I have never told you that this child was fathered in love, not hate.” Her hands lifted, shifted to her belly, soothed. Her eyes opened, unfocused, looking at the past, not the present. The next would be the hardest, the actual telling. Now it was just a disconnected narrative, as if she were still in the army and giving a report on the day’s work. He noticed that her speech didn’t slip into the patterns of her home. No, instead her words were without accent or dialect.

“I have never told you that I did disobey them. The warrant said insubordination, and that was the truth. I had the very best reasons to fight them, Wil. I have never told you that I broke when they tortured him. Not at first. Later, toward dawn. They let me go then, just opened the door and watched me run, laughing.” She wanted to move, to stand, to take a drink. “I broke, and I am still broken. I lied because they demanded it. I failed.”

A tear began to trickle down one cheek. Wil offered her the cloth he’d hooked to his belt: it was still wet and it smelled like soap, but it was clean enough to swipe at her eyes. She nodded thanks. Wil waited, understanding that she was just getting started. After all, there were an amazing number of twists and turns in her story. Still, he had no fear that she had truly done anything wrong: Renna Rynior was possibly the most honorable woman, no, strike that, the most honorable human being he had ever met.

Then, like a flash of light the idea came to him. He was on his feet without hesitation. He didn’t know why it hadn’t occurred to him before. “Wren,” he interrupted, “Can I, I mean, would you mind if I wrote this down? If you don’t mind, I just thought we might send it up to the castle, anonymously of course, so that those who really did wrong might be punished. I’ll change the names, if you want.” He paused, watching for her answer as intently as he listened. She turned her head, stared toward the open doorway, and made him wait. It didn’t take her long, though.

When she squared her shoulders and met his eyes without flinching, Wil thought it was a good sign. She nodded. “Yes Wil, please fetch your quill and parchment. No need to change the names. They know I’m somewhere in the city, after all, since their brothers are guarding the gates and the tunnels.”

It took him a little while, then, to get ready to scribe her story. He gathered his writing instruments and paper, but he also closed the windows, and built a fire to ward off the chill. He didn’t want any interruptions once they started, at least not until their guests returned from market or her tale was finished, whichever came first.

He settled at the bench across from her. “I’m ready, Wren.” Then he watched her expression change as she began the journey back in time and allowed herself to open the door to memories.

“They outranked me, all of them, and all of them had tried to get my attention, but I was a stickler for the rules. No fraternizing. No relationships between soldiers, particularly not a superior and a subordinate. That’s not to say that the seven of them weren’t friendly and handsome and generous. I knew what they wanted, though. Do`mannen sometimes waited outside the library for me, to walk me home. Jorath brought me hot cider when I stood silently at my post during the winter festivals. Anokis tried to give me little jewels, little trinkets that he bought in the market, but I never took them. The others, they all followed me like lost puppies when I took my infrequent liberty and wandered through the city. I liked to walk alone: I was, and I still am, awed by the grandeur of the buildings, but they were more concerned with the pursuit of me, probably because I said no. I always said no.”

“They outranked me, so when Do`mannen stood there that night, waiting, I didn’t realize how far they would go, or how many rules, no, laws they might break, to have my attention.”

In case you missed the previous episodes:

Part I Part II Part III