20. The Great Healer
Chapter 20
The Great Healer
T hat next morning, they walked together from camp after a light breakfast of cheese and bread. Lord Azure made no motion to break down the camp, so Celestine assumed they would stay here another night.
“Where are we going?” Celestine asked him.
Azure turned to her. “The one who may heal you. He is ahead.”
“And if I don’t want to be healed?” Celestine asked.
“Then you won’t be.” Azure continued walking. The large Lord of Summer didn’t don his armor. He wore a simple tunic, breeches, boots, and belt. Stuck in his waistband was a knife in a leather throng. His knightly trappings were left at camp.
“No helm? No standard for your honor?”
“Not today. My honor knows where I am. It is when men forget where their honor is that calamity occurs.” Azure didn’t turn when he spoke. “My people became knightly. They became creatures of honor, but many return to the plains, leaving their arms behind to spend time beneath the sky. When they first came to this realm, they sought peace. Once they had it, they created a conflict of another kind. Contests of skill and bravado.”
Celestine continued walking after him. Some moments, Lord Azure was a knight of great poise, a being of chivalry and honor incarnate. Here out among the plains, he was a nomad-king, at home with his hawk and the sky.
They walked for another hour. Celestine’s slippers fared well among the long grasses, but her muscles ached.
“Here he is,” Lord Azure said.
Celestine looked up at the top of the hill. The sun rose with the blowing wind, and a splendid horse stood before them. He was multicolored, patches of white, brown, black in a myriad of his skin.
“He is from many realms, many lines, like you.” Lord Azure turned to her. “Men and women bear terrible wounds, and many die. But the greatest failure is not allowing themselves to be healed, because, secretly, they think they deserve their fate. But no being deserves to suffer. Despite what that yellow-crowned fool may have made you believe.”
He doesn’t speak his name because he knows it bothers me. I am ever waiting for him to reveal his own monster within.
“What do they deserve?” Celestine asked.
Azure stared into her eyes. “Freedom.”
Celestine turned, staring at the standing horse. “This is my healer?”
“If you allow it. And you will be his. He is a coarser, in truth, a young colt. But he lost his way. He has been wild for a year now. An impatient hand attempted to train him. Thus, he is here. ”
“I don’t know how to break a mount.”
“None truly do. The colt joins with the rider. It is the illusion of men to think they control that. The same with lovers. Remove your footwear. You need to feel the earth when you get near him. It’s your union to one another.”
What she had hoped for was a great healer. A kind woman, like what she imagined her mother would be, somewhere in these long grasses. Yet she had come this far. Celestine withdrew one boot, then the other, hopping from foot to foot. “And I can leave at any time?”
“You can,” Azure assured her. “I will take you to Calendar or Aidric whenever you wish. He waits.”
“I’m surprised he isn’t here, watching.”
Lord Azure smiled. “What makes you think he isn’t? That one always watches. ”
“I don’t see him.”
“Perhaps because you do not wish to. Your previous suitor’s attentions were a laceration on your soul, Celestine. Go to Garo. Today, all I want you to do is stand close to him. To see him.”
“That is all?” Celestine asked.
“That is all.”
Celestine walked forward, her bare feet flexing on the ground. The grass felt cool, reassuring.
Garo snorted, turning to her.
“Slowly,” Lord Azure said from behind her. “Treat him well. Do not rush him. You wouldn’t touch him before he was ready, would you?”
No, I wouldn’t.
Celestine kept her eyes on Garo, the brown eyes of the beautiful creature, his flesh such an amalgamation of colors.
She walked one step closer, and he startled. For a moment, she thought he would run away.
“I’m sorry,” Celestine whispered. Her voice seemed to draw Garo in, and he snorted, then whinnied, allowing her to draw nearer.
“Try another step, Celestine.”
She kept her hands out, showing she wasn’t a threat. Eyes locked on Garo, she took one small step closer. The young colt tensed.
But he didn’t move away.
“Good,” Lord Azure’s voice was low, gentle. “Just stand there. Let him know you. Look at him, let him look at you.”
Garo stared at her, then broke away and bent low, eating at the grass in the field. Celestine watched him. The muscles on his flank rippled, his hoof padded at the ground, digging up grass for him to chew.
She watched him for a long time. After a while, she felt grounded. Like her body was returning to her. Everything was in this moment.
The smell of horseflesh near her, the soft pad of his strong hoof, the sound of the wind combing the grass. She felt for the first time in forever that she was not floating above the ground but tethered to it. Her toes dug into the black earth.
I am here. I am here right now.
The entrapment she had endured, the boundaries she had felt prodded, pushed, and finally shattered—fell behind her. When Tristien had worn his circlet, all she thought of was the terror of the future.
Right now, all that remained in her world was this horse. Watching him eat, feeling the ground beneath her. The wall encased around her threadbare soul didn’t crumble. It didn’t shift. But for a moment, she felt as if she was being rescued again by James and Lapis, one single brick shifting away.
“Good, very good.” Lord Azure’s voice broke her from her spell.
Celestine looked back, seeing the Lord of the Blue Banner smiling. She turned back to Garo.
“Thank you,” she whispered.
Garo paid her no mind. He continued eating. He was a horse doing what he needed or wanted to do. There was no bridle upon him, no collar.
Slowly he turned away, meandering to another part of the valley to eat. Celestine did the same, sensing their session was at an end.
“Would you like to sit awhile?” Lord Azure asked her.
“Yes,” Celestine spoke.
“May I sit with you?”
“Yes.” Celestine hunched down in the grass, bringing her knees to her chest. Azure sat to her left, and for a long time, they watched Garo eat, then move, then eat again. He whinnied, taken up by his energy, and galloped around. His flesh rippling, his mane as dark as his eyes.
“Beautiful,” Celestine said.
“To look upon, he is another horse. At a glance. But when you stare at them,” Lord Azure spoke and picked at a long strand of grass. “They are magnificent. They sense the earth. There is no other creature so tethered to it.”
They kept watching until he disappeared over the horizon. Celestine sat and watched, and Azure sat as well, not close to her.
But not far.
In the evenings, sometimes they would speak. Sometimes not. Azure seemed to know not just what she wanted, but what she needed.
Azure told her about his land and people. He told her about hunts he had been on and the deeds of knights living here. About wars they had fought, always with sadness in their hearts. They were a martial people, but they did not live for it like the people of the Red Banner. This alternate world was so like, and unlike her own.
Azure put more wood onto their campfire. “The young are encouraged to travel, as are the elders. To see the other banners, the other realms, where allowed. Many return with new tales. We are not traders or merchants, but we love to be seen.”
We love to be seen.
It was an interesting concept. Or idea. Celestine felt as if there was a collar around her voice sometimes.
Celestine had nightmares every evening, and it was always the same.
She was walking back into the realm of the Yellow Banners. No one lined the fields. Nobody guarded the manor.
Celestine would enter Tristien's home and walk to his chambers. When the door opened, he was always standing there.
“You’ve come back to me,” he would say.
She wouldn’t say anything. A box would be in front of him. The same box as her first night.
“A gift for you,” he would whisper.
She would open it with trembling hands. It was empty. Every single time.
“It’s empty,” she would murmur.
Tristien would stare at her, his eyes filled with madness. A wide stare, eager, as if he knew the revelation of a terrible secret.
“Is it?”
Then, she would reach up to her neck. The cruel metal hurt her to touch. It was such an invasion. Such a violation.
“ Is it? ”
Then she would wake.
Azure was there when she woke. Every time. Whether it was with a scream, or a groan, or in choked silence—he was not far. His presence was reassuring. He would always be near the fire, tending to it. He would tilt his head to the side as if he were listening to her dream.
The Lord of the Blue Banner always said the same thing when she woke. “You are here.” Whether it was an assurance or a greeting, it made her feel safe.
Celestine would sit up and stare at the fire. She glanced around the darkness, worrying for some sign of Tristien. But nothing stirred except the horses among the grasses.
In the morning, after they ate, he would take her to Garo. The young colt moved around, but Lord Azure always knew precisely where he was. Each day, she stepped a bit closer to him. Each day she waited, watching him.
As time passed, she felt more and more tethered to the earth. To Azure’s lands. To Garo. She could feel the moment, then several moments. Moments gave way to minutes, and minutes gave way to mornings.
She stopped wearing shoes. It felt right to be barefoot among the plains. Some days, she did not speak at all. The silence of the grasses was enough for her. On the seventh day, she stood close enough to Garo to reach out and touch him.
He was beautiful. Suddenly she yearned to touch him. Celestine reached out, hand grazing his flank.
Garo whinnied loudly, surprised and galloped away.
“Wait!” Celestine yelled. “I’m sorry!”
“He was not ready,” Azure said behind her.
Celestine stared at Garo as he escaped from her.
Why did I do that? I knew he wasn’t ready. I didn’t have his… his permission… I am just like him. Just like him.
Celestine stared as Garo abandoned her. What happened when the healer abandoned the wounded patient? She fell to the ground and wept bitterly. Truly wept. Deep sobs choked her, and the shame and guilt of what she was, what she had done—it rose up. Some depth within her emptied out, and there was no stanching it.
Celestine shook and cried, covering her face. It wasn’t the cry of a woman spurned by a horse. It wasn’t Garo’s denial.
It was weeks within a wall, wondering if she would die there. It was being strung up, her very mind and choices selected for her. It was falling into a craving with a beautiful god who bent and stretched her. It was the bit between your teeth as you died hauling your victimizer behind you.
The wall came loose within her. It did not break, but it shifted further. She felt like she was reaching out again, clawing at the air within the tower. When only her arm could be free and not the rest of her.
I never did that. I never reached out. I didn’t try hard enough.
Azure stepped close behind her. He did not move; he was just there in case she needed him.
I am so alone.
With that thought, Azure, Lord of Summer and the Blue Banner touched her. A kind hand placed itself on her shoulder, and that kindness made her weep even harder. His flesh was warm, and she felt like a corpse under his touch.
I died in that wall. My soul is still there. Screaming without sound. Encarmine came for me, but it was too late.
Yet Azure had come as well. Gentle Azure. Encarmine had been there to save her, to rescue her, just as he had with Vermilion, and his wrath would have put a river of blood through the Yellow Realm.
But Lord Azure, he had come alone. No bannermen with him. Just as he did to her now, touching her shoulder. Only the reassuring presence of someone, like he was trying to remind her of her body. Of where she was.
“I didn’t even call for help,” Celestine choked back a sob. The grass still swirled and blew beyond them. The wind was not indifferent. It simply blew because it had to.
“It is the great lie the abuser weaves within anyone under their care, Celestine. That they are not worthy of aid, and their punishment is justified because they did not beg for release. Shame is their prison. It is the dirt they ply upon those they bury alive within a tomb of abuse.”
“He can’t heal me,” Celestine whispered. “Nothing can. I will die among the Seasons, and my people will follow.”
“Of course he can.” Azure gripped her shoulder. “What happened to you was horrid, and if you continue your courtships, more will come. Worse will come. But also such greater things. Life is wonder and wrath, sometimes in twin ribbons that weave together. Encarmine taught you exertion, strength, and bravery. Solis taught you submission, the lure of the lock and chain, and delicious torment.”
“What are you here to teach me?” Celestine asked.
At that, Azure laughed. His laugh was honest and lovely. Full of life with each hearty chuckle.
Celestine smiled, not quite understanding. Azure knelt beside her, pointing to the hill.
“He comes, look.”
Celestine looked up. Garo was approaching. He walked forward, hoof after hoof, such a proud and noble creature.
Garo came closer, interested. She choked back her sobs, and he continued forward, and after a moment, his wet nose was breathing all over her, inspecting her. He wet her neck and face with his prodding inquisition, snorting loudly until she…
Celestine laughed. Truly laughed between her sobs. Garo dipped his head into her hands and nuzzled upon her lap. She held his beautiful long face, stroking his muzzle. The only sound was the wind on the grass and the snort of the animal, between her laughter.