Chapter XXVIII #2
She smiled at his assurance and held her arms out to initiate the rite.
She called to the Magic, to the spirits of the earth and sky, to the ancestors, to The Kind and Fair, to the gods.
She asked them to be witness to their rite on the night of Narrapaug Seip, to release all that had come before and begin anew.
She gave thanks to the Fir’Darl for attending and presiding over the rite this year and sang a few lines before she fetched her herb jars.
She tipped a little of the contents of one into her hand and Baró’s with each hope for the future before they gave their palmfuls to the fire and performed the action again.
Rivani went through the traditional items of gratitude and hope — the bounty of the last year and the harvest of the coming one, the ability to find safety and shelter and new hospitable places to discover, the health of the Rivani and the ability to thrive, the friends of long acquaintance and the new ones yet to make, the food that sustained them and the full bellies of the future, the lessons learned and the opportunities to practice what had been learned.
“Fir’Darl,” she said to Baró when her standard list had been fulfilled, “I have many personal things I should like to say, but if you have anything you would like to add, we would all like to hear it.”
“There is much for which I am grateful,” Baró responded, “and many things for which I hope.” He was supposed to speak to the fire as the conveyance of his words for the spirits she called, but he watched her.
His gratitude was not for the gods or the spirits — it was for her alone.
“This year has been the happiest of my long life. In it, I have known compassion, forgiveness, and affection. I have been shown errors in my ways, not through punishment but by the strength of virtue-in-practice. In this Rivan woman, I have found my heart’s companion, my partner in survival, and my dearest friend.
She has been my eyes in blindness, my solace in despair, and my hope in darkness.
She will be leaving me soon, but I am grateful to have had the gift of her time and company.
Though the grief of her departure will destroy me, I wish her to have safe travels.
I want only her happiness and safety. May she find care and company with people who deserve her, and may she never know a day of want. ”
Rivani glanced over at him, her brows furrowed. “You haven’t asked for anything for yourself.”
“You are the greatest blessing I will ever know. How could I desire anything else?”
Rivani’s eyes grew red and she wiped at them before redirecting her gaze to the fire.
“And I am grateful that I was led here, to rest and recover, to find peace and safety, to meet the one who would become my dearest friend and my mate. I ask — beg — that we can, somehow, spend our lives together, away from here. I have not given up hope on that.”
Baró smiled weakly, knowing the impossibility of her request.
“Before you all,” she continued, “I wish to declare my affection and devotion to this being. As a baby, I was told that I was not meant for mankind. I was doomed to be alone, not a fate I dreaded, but now that I face a future without my Baró, I realize that ‘alone’ can be lonely when it means being deprived of the person you care most about. I put to you — I was not meant for mankind. Perhaps instead I am meant for a god, for the Fir’Darl, for there is none other in the world whose spirit matches my own. I am his and will forever be.”
Rivani may not have blushed at his verbalized sentiments, but he blushed with hers.
“Before you all,” he repeated, following Rivani’s demonstrated format, “I affirm and declare that I am hers and shall ever be.” He reached out for Rivani’s hand and squeezed it.
“For all others, I have been a threat, a problem, a monster, and yet in me, she has the ability to see something else, something more. I know that I am unworthy of her affections despite my attempts to be a better creature, but for her, I shall always strive to be worthy. She has caused me to question my beliefs and challenge my traditions, and though I shall never have the opportunity to demonstrate improvement, she has nonetheless inspired the growth and enlightenment of my person.”
Rivani rummaged inside her cloak and pulled a length of trim that she had liberated from her bedroom furniture. She draped the trim over their joined hands and then wrapped it around.
“I am yours, Baró. You own my heart and my affections, and whether I am here or elsewhere, if we shall be parted, I shall tell all that you are my mate.”
“I am yours, Rivani. Sahtiya.” He bent his head down and brought their joined hands to his mouth to kiss the top of hers. “You own my heart and my affections. Whether I am here or elsewhere, when we shall be parted, I shall regard you forever as my mate.”
“Kiss me?” She asked, turning her face up to him. “Seal our promises to each other.”
His face was no longer one that kissed easily or could be easily kissed but he made the motion to indicate his willingness and let her find a way for her to fit her mouth against his. The sensation made him want to lift her in his arms and carry her off to their nest of lovemaking.
“I would seal our promises with other physical expressions too.”
“We shall. After.” She unwrapped their hands and released his to tuck the trim away.
“I have one more thing to settle first. I promised you a story.” She addressed the fire again.
“Baró once recounted an incident of his past, an incident that horrified and disgusted me, one that turned me against him. This incident did not match up with the being I came to know. When Baró told me who he had been, my suspicions were confirmed. Though the truth changes nothing — although it should — I want to correct the story now and have it witnessed by him and the spirits together.”
Baró would have blanched with embarrassment to have this raised again, but he had asked her many times about the comment she made regarding the “staged atrocity.” Each time she had put him off. Until now.
“We Rivani sing of the stories for evening entertainment, to recite our histories and our trials. We sing of the stories King Luca the Coward told when he ascended the throne, the stories of his debaucheries and betrayals, the boasting of his duplicity with his brother, the conspiracy with his father to rid themselves of a prince of Rivan blood. When a crown prince and not yet a king, Luca courted a Rivan woman, gave her promises, a baby in her belly, and the name of his younger brother, Arturo, along with a gift of his brother’s hair.
When the moment arrived, Luca lured Arturo out, plying him with tainted drink.
When the murder and defilement of the Rivan girl had been achieved, Arturo was placed amidst the carnage, covered in her blood, and told afterward of the violence of his actions.
The Rivani, having been given the name ‘Arturo’ as her suitor, obtained the gifted hair to lure him to their judgment, although he had no part.
In the stories told, the Rivani murder the prince, thinking they are meting out punishment, thus giving justification to King Hemnesio’s persecutions.
And yet, the prince was not murdered but punished.
He has lived with his guilt for long years.
I have spoken with the Magic of release to no avail.
I wish, however, for all to know of his innocence.
And,” she glanced at Baró, “as one who cares for him more than words can express, I plead on his behalf. When I leave here, I want him to come with me. And if such a thing cannot be achieved, then please ease his years so that he may not know any greater hardship or torment.”
“I did not harm her.” Baró collapsed on his haunches.
“You never touched her.” She moved to his side and knelt beside him. She kissed his cheek and wrapped her hands around his. “I am sorry that I have no power to change what has been done to you, but I could at least see you absolved.”
He nodded, still halfway lost in his thoughts, still reeling from the revelation. This crime was something he had taken to heart and blamed himself for centuries. He did not know how to extract it from the strange narrative of his life now that it had become such a part of him.
He brought her hand to his mouth and kissed it in appreciation. Then he kissed her wrist and pressed her hand to his cheek again. Rivani was everything to him and she had to leave him. There would be no happy ending for him, no freedom, no future with her.
“Thank you,” he managed at last, “for trying.”
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