Epilogue #2
Diamantha shrugged as she carefully refolded the tunics.
“I suppose I feel sad that he never got to see Sophie marry,” she said honestly.
“I am sad that he will never know his grandson, his namesake. But beyond that, I do not miss him if that is what you mean. I know it sounds terrible to say this, but had he not died, I would have never married you, and you and I have had a perfect life together. I have a beautiful family and a wonderful husband… I am very thankful for my life.”
Cortez smiled faintly at her, warmed by her words.
He reached deeper into the saddlebag and pulled out a small dirk, a pair of hose, and a small sewing kit.
He set them all upon the table as Diamantha carefully examined everything.
The last few items in the saddlebags belonged to a writing kit.
He pulled out an inkwell and quill, tightly wrapped in a leather pouch, a sanding phial that still had sand in the bottom of it, and a pouch containing sheets of vellum.
“Robert was keen on writing,” Diamantha said, scrutinizing the sanding phial before opening up the vellum pouch. “In fact, he used to… God’s Bones… Cortez, I think some of this vellum has writing on it.”
Carefully, she pulled it out. There were several sheets of uneven size and width, and three of them had writing on them. As Cortez lit the taper on the desk so they could see more clearly, Diamantha held up the first sheet with dark, somewhat smeared lettering on it.
“Can you read this?” she asked Cortez.
He took the vellum, peering at it in the dim light. His eyesight had never been the greatest and over the years, it had grown steadily worse, so it took him a moment to see what had been written. After reading a few sentences, he grinned.
“It’s a story,” he said. “He has written about a family of rabbits. He must have written it for Sophie.”
Diamantha nodded eagerly. “He loved to write little stories for her,” she said happily. “What a blessing this is – now Sophie can have it for her son.”
Cortez set the vellum down and picked up the next one. He read a couple of sentences. “This seems to be a letter to George,” he said. “I am sorry we did not know it was here. I am sure George would have liked to have seen it.”
Diamantha looked at the letters. Since she did not know how to read, it all looked like scribble to her.
“How sad,” she said with regret. “He never did recover from Robert’s death.
It was one of the last things he said before he passed away last year, do you recall?
He said he was glad to die because he would see his son and wife again. What a terrible thing to be so lonely.”
Cortez nodded in agreement, thinking on George Edlington and how he spent a great deal of time at Sherborne since Robert’s passing.
He did it to be close to Sophie, but he eventually became a grandfather to all of their children.
The end of his life had been very full. As he thought on George, he took a look at the third piece of vellum.
After reading the first few words, he looked at Diamantha.
“This is addressed to Sophie,” he said.
Diamantha eyed the letters on the vellum, some of them smeared and dulled with age. “What does it say?” she asked.
Cortez returned his gaze to the yellowed vellum with the faded writing on it. Quietly, he began to read.
My dearest Sophie;
My days are long and my nights longer. I miss you and your mother fiercely.
I know you are too young to understand why I have gone away, but please know it was not because I wanted to.
It was because my king, and my country, had need of me.
I pray for a swift end to this conflict so that I can return home to you and your mother.
In my dreams, I can see your smile and hear your laughter.
Sometimes, I see rabbits or butterflies all around, and I can imagine that in their beauty, I see a glimpse of you.
You are a breath of wind, the song of a bird, or a flower petal that blows away on a breeze.
You are all these things of beauty to me and if the fates are unkind and I never see your face again, then know that throughout this journey, I have been comforted by the life I see around me.
It reminds me of you. I pray for the day when we will be together again, my little flower, in this life or in the next.
But know that if my life ends today, I will be with you, always.
I will be in the song of a sparrow or in the patter of a gentle rain.
As you are with me now, so will I be with you until the end.
Your loving Papa
Cortez had tears in his eyes as he finished. He couldn’t even see the vellum anymore. He looked up at Diamantha to see tears streaming down her face. Stifling a sob, she wrapped her arms around Cortez’s waist, her head upon his shoulder.
“He loved her so much,” she whispered, wiping at her face.
“Although I am sorry we did not find this letter sooner, just as we did not find George’s letter sooner, I cannot help but be grateful that we found it now.
This will have so much more meaning to her as an adult than it would have as a child.
But I wonder why he never sent it to her? Why did he keep it with him?”
Cortez hugged her tightly, thinking on that day so long ago when Robert Edlington had ended his life on his own terms. He’d never faulted the man his decision. In fact, he had always understood his motives. Let them remember me as I was. Now, they had.
“I do not know,” he said softly. “Mayhap it was something he wrote right before his death and never had time to send it. Or maybe it was a sentiment he wanted to keep with him, something to remind him of his daughter. Whatever the reason, it does not matter, for Sophie will soon have it and she will know how much her father loved her. In fact, he has described how I feel about her, also. It is how I feel about all of my children, but it is particularly how I feel about you. As you are with me now, so will I be with you until the end because my quest, always, has been you.”
He quoted the last of Robert’s letter with his own sentiment on the end of it, a phrase that had been the core of their marriage. Diamantha hugged him tightly.
“It is beautiful,” she whispered. “Truly beautiful.”
They remained in a tight embrace for a few moments longer, lingering on Robert’s adoring letter, until they were forced to pack up the chest, remembering the children waiting for them.
Their children, born from a love that had been forged in sorrow and fire, a love that was stronger than the bonds of earth, and held together by a little Posey ring that Diamantha had never taken off her finger.
It summed up everything they had ever meant to one another, the heart of their very existence, in this life or in any other.
My quest is you.
* THE END *