Chapter 24
XXIV.
With the summer breeze and the buzz of activity in the air, Rivani almost could not recognize the great hall.
The draperies cleaned, the tapestries unfaded, new rushes spread over the stones, the exposed beams cobweb free, the candles sitting in untarnished sconces, the tables gleaming as if in preparation for a banquet to be laid, her quiet home these many months shone as if awaiting the arrival of royalty.
If this had once been the state of the keep, then indeed it did — it awaited a Varnasian prince of Rivan blood.
The possibility of seeing him, human as he had once been, filled her with panic.
Instead of the keep’s master, a Rivan Woman entered with all the stateliness of a queen.
Her braids wore more silver than black, but the features of Her face were clear and sharp like that of a young girl.
Although shorter than Rivani, the Woman’s figure told of a history of being better fed, and Her slender soft hands with long nails indicated this Woman’s importance.
This Woman would never have to clean hearths or dig fire pits or do washing, never pull Her own vyardin should it get stuck in mud, never do anything but watch Her attendants perform such menial tasks.
Although Her clothing was plain and clean, the garments were new and fine, not the clothing of work, but the garb of ceremony, a gold, twisted cord around Her waist with feathers and carved stones dangling from it, a full leather pouch tied to the cord.
The embroidery of Her skirt shone in jewel-toned sigils with bits of gazing mirror in the brass and silver bangles at Her wrists.
“My honor and gratitude to meet You, Mother.” Rivani inclined her head in politeness. The Woman’s face warmed with the address.
“You have spoken often to Me, child. I could not come until you issued your invitation. Many nights that I have tried, you have not been receptive.”
Rivani remained wary but inclined her head again. “I have long wished for communion with You. I am, again, most grateful that You have come.”
“Dreams are the easiest way for this kind of thing,” the Woman said. “It is Our Other Reality, as real as the waking world, but more open to possibilities.” The Woman smiled and held out Her hand as if asking for Rivani’s. “Come, child, walk with Me so that We may speak.”
Rivani could not remember the last time she had been invited to walk with someone she addressed as “Mother.” It was an honor, always.
Maybe the last time had been the night before her second wedding, where Mother had spoken of drafts to make ale more potent to cause excessive drunkenness and inability to rouse to the occasion,, and other kinds of sleeping potions.
Rivani had blessed that Mother all the days of her life since.
But Rivani had never walked with a sorceress.
She did not think it would be considered polite to refuse the offer, so she gave her hand to the Woman and followed.
“Tell me of your dreams and aspirations, child. Long has it been since I have spoken to one of Us.”
Rivani almost mentioned the fact that Baró bore the blood of their people too, but held her tongue.
Rivani would not have considered Baró one of the Rivani even with the blood ties.
It was his culture to learn about and engage in, but until he did that, Rivani acknowledged that no other Rivan person would refer to him as a Rivani.
“I survive,” she began. “I would like to do more than that — not worry how I will feed myself or how to be self-sufficient for winter or how a town will receive me.” Rivani considered other wants.
“I would like to travel along the coastline again. And I have never been to the mountains. I am not sure that I have the temperament for the desert, although I heard that there are wanderers like Us there too.” Rivani enjoyed contemplating where her travels might take her, but now she derived little pleasure from dreaming of a future because she longed to share that future with Baró. Baró, who could not leave.
Rivani laughed, though, when she realized what the Woman had been asking.
“I have never wanted children.” Rivani blushed from wondering if offspring between her and Baró would be human or hooved demi-gods. “Though I bleed, I cannot have any of my own and I have never felt bereft knowing that.”
The Woman nodded. “Children are blessings, but they are not everything.” They walked the length of the great hall and then out into the bailey, full now of quiet workshops and bales of hay piled on carts with missing horses.
The Woman regarded the area as if expecting more than the bailey walls Rivani had grown to know so well even if the landscape was in better repair than she had ever seen it.
“For one who loves to wander and longs to see so many things, it is odd that you should confine Our conversation to this place. This is the Other Reality. We can walk where you wish. Do you not yet long for your freedom?”
Rivani flushed. “I have my freedom,” she told Mother. “I do not wish to be elsewhere, not yet. I have been happy here. I will be leaving soon enough and it is of this place I wish to speak.”
“Of this place or rather of the monster that prowls its grounds?” the Woman asked. “I have been given to understand that you are familiar with the creature’s evils.”
“Baró has made me aware of his past, his crimes, and his character flaws.”
“He must have had to regale you for weeks on end to inform you of so much,” the Woman dropped Rivani’s hand and walked into the center of the bailey before turning back to look at Rivani.
“He even confessed to an event he owns as his greatest horror,” Rivani added, remaining at the threshold of the great hall. “And yet, that horror, despite being a reason for his confinement and punishment, was not committed by him.”
The Woman waved her hand in the air as if brushing it aside.
“What does it matter to Me if the act was by him or not? The girl suffered and died by the hand of a de Vacca. Someone had to repay the harm inflicted on the Rivani. What matter if this monster did not do it? He is of the line of monsters and satisfied the requirement.”
“He is of their line, but of Our blood.” Rivani burned with indignation.
“Our stories say that when Luca took the throne, he decried Arturo as a Rivan bastard and boasted of the act which condemned his brother. Our tales sing of the Coward King’s betrayal because it was a betrayal of Us, an exploitation of Us, using Us to remove his rival.
That rival was meant to be Our ally. Arturo, for all his faults, represented hope to the Rivani, hope that was destroyed with his punishment.
Must he continue to endure a sentence for a crime he did not commit? ”
The Woman tilted her head and clasped her hands, looking at Rivani without malice.
“Yes, he must. It is almost completed. My sorceress, who could alter his fate, is long dead. I am Magic, cast and set here to serve a function. That function is to enact the punishment decreed. I have no say on that.”
“What was decreed?” Perhaps Rivani could find a loophole in the arrangement.
“He would be given his own kingdom to rule,” the Woman told her, “as a king of monsters, bound to his domain until the end of his days. All within his realm would belong to him and he would have all the Magic of his curse at his side, though he could use none for himself without consequence. For a span of years, he would have the opportunity to fulfill certain requirements that might, if true, free him, but he would continue to alter in form and aspect to dissuade him from attempting to fulfill those requirements.”
Rivani recalled all the wounds and signs of rape on Baró as a consequence of using the Magic. She tried to reconcile the Woman before her with Baró’s Attacker.
“What are the requirements?”
“I cannot say.”
“You say he changes when he attempts to fulfill the requirements.” But Baró resigned himself to remaining bound to the land. She had to be missing something. “He has made no move to leave and still his body continues to warp. If you cannot curtail his suffering, could you not lessen it?”
“I need to see the point at which you will abandon him.”
Rivani bit her lip. His changes were all about her then, if the Magic intended to see what would drive her away. If Rivani left him, the changes would stop. And that meant, if the alterations occurred when he attempted to leave, Rivani was a component of those conditions.
“What if I never abandon him, Mother?”
“Then he will continue to alter in new and terrible ways. With you there beside him to help keep his mind fresh and engaged, he will be aware of the horror he is becoming.” The Woman’s face twisted and her eyes narrowed.
Rivani received a clear view of how this Magic had been responsible for so much pain.
“Tell me, child, is the monster that charming or are you just a slattern for beasts?”
Rivani’s cheeks burned and she could only imagine how much worse it would be if this Woman had power over her. If this was what Baró dealt with when being visited, Rivani could understand Baró’s distraction and melancholy.
“He warned me that You could be cruel. I thought, surely, I could speak with a Rivani, One who knows this situation better than I, and gain some insight without being insulted.”
“He is a monster, child, and he is being punished. You should take heed by his form and go when you are able, grateful that he cannot leave as you so desire. Then he will know peace again.”
Rivani could not be so easily placated, being called a slattern one moment and child the next. It sounded far too much like those of the non-Rivan villages where they wanted her to be both promiscuous and infantile at the same time so they could better rationalize their cruelty and mistreatment.