Chapter 10 #3
Had Arthmael loved her as he loved his sons?
For the first time in her life she considered the question with doubt in her mind.
Memories flooded her thoughts—of her father…
Arthmael hugging her tight as a child, teaching her archery and swordsmanship, and with tears in his eyes when he agreed to her marriage to Oglach, which would send her far away forever. She couldn’t doubt his love.
Then another question leapt into her head. “Does my betrothed know?” Despite her resolve, her voice broke on the question.
Alina slipped her hand under Sorcha’s elbow and led her to the wagon in which they slept.
“Of course not. What purpose would that serve?” her mother answered.
“He wanted an alliance with the king of the Durotriges. He is marrying Arthmael’s acknowledged daughter, whom he loved dearly, so Oglach gains an alliance and a high-born wife. ”
“How will I live this down. I am not who I thought I was.” Humiliation was a wolf crushing her in its jaws. Sorcha wrapped her arms around her middle as her body folded in upon itself.
“There is nothing for which you should be ashamed.”
“My whole life has been a fabrication.” The words burst from her in a harsh whisper. “I was raised as the firstborn child of Arthmael—the eldest of his twelve children—and to the importance of maintaining the family’s honor. But I am nothing.” A painful mass was forming in her stomach.
“Your worth does not come from your father. It comes from within you, Sorcha. I have tried to teach you that.” Alina slipped an arm around Sorcha’s shoulders and pulled her closer.
“Do you remember when you were about twelve years old, you demanded to be given the latest foal from the best horse in the horse-master’s herd, although it was promised to his daughter before it was born?
I told you that the foal belonged to whomever it was promised.
You had not earned it. The horse-master’s daughter had spent long months looking after the welfare of its dam for the reward of the promised foal.
Her actions deserved reward. Your station in life, your innate privilege, did not mean you deserved it. ”
“I remember.” Anger had burned through Sorcha at the time, and her feeling of betrayal had lasted for another year.
At her mother’s insistence that she had to earn the right to the next foal, Sorcha had brought the mare sweet grasses cut with her own hands and had taken responsibility for her care throughout the following year.
When the foal was born, she had been the strongest of all that season’s foals.
Sorcha had been rewarded with its ownership, and she still rode that mare.
Otherwise, Sorcha always received the best of everything, from clothing to food to jewelry.
She was allowed to choose merchandise and to eat before everyone else in the settlement and most of the Durotriges tribe.
All the Durotriges people showed her respect because she was the king’s daughter. Now she knew it was not so.
And every time Garamaros had visited their settlement, Sorcha had been invited to choose whichever adornment she liked before everyone else. She had believed this was because she was the king’s oldest child, his only daughter.
The tall craftsman with his curly brown hair had smiled at her with approval when she had picked the most exquisite of his offerings every time.
He had always seemed happy and proud of her choices—had told her that she had made the wisest decision in selecting the best and most expensive piece.
Now she knew the real reason for her preferment.
Sorcha’s mind was racing and the lump in her stomach was growing more painful, but her body felt limp. She sagged against her mother.
“Garamaros is a great man, my daughter. Kind, strong, clever, brave, and beyond loyal.” She smoothed a loving hand over Sorcha’s hair, “You will come to understand why I love him with my whole heart. We cannot always choose who we love, sometime it just is.”
Alina helped Sorcha onto her sleeping pallet in the wagon and pulled a fur over her.
Her mother took the necklace of amber-colored beads from around her neck.
“There is something that Garamaros and I wish you to have.” Alina detached the largest of the glass beads from the rows of beads attached to the twisted gold necklace.
She untied a leather thong from her wrist and slipped the bead onto it.
“This is the first and largest glass bead Garamaros gave me, shortly after you were born. We want you to have it, as you understand now how much it means to us both, and as a symbol of our love for you. And its strong enchantments will protect you.”
Her mother looped it over Sorcha’s head. It felt warm and comforting on her skin.
Sorcha felt overwhelmed by conflicting emotions—surprise, devastation at the loss of her identity as Arthmael’s daughter, as well as reassurance that she was the product of her mother’s love for Garamaros. She snuffled back tears. It was all too much to take in.
Alina smoothed her hand over Sorcha’s hair as she had done when she was a child needing soothing. “Sleep now. Tomorrow we reach Dun Creg. You will want your betrothed to see you looking your most beautiful.”
Sorcha shuffled lower under the rug. How could she sleep when her entire notion of herself had been overturned?