Chapter 58. The Garden

eleri followed Geetha out into the sunshine of the garden having spent the morning repairing her armor and picking out a new dress at the suggestion of the servants.  In truth, she was bored.  Unaccustomed to luxury, she had at first jumped at the opportunity to splurge at the expense of her hosts.  After hours of long baths and exploring wardrobe possibilities, she wished that she could just go home.  The garden was beautiful, but it was not the forest.  She missed Mabane.  Sywno would take good care of the boy, of course, but that did little to allay her worry and homesickness.

Of course she missed her friends.  Morisedd, when she thought of him, filled her with dread and anxiety.  She tried not to think about him, for the very notion that he was in trouble made her sick to her stomach.  She missed Nandao and Brigit as well, and wondered how the two of them were faring wherever fortune and happenstance had taken them.  She wished she were with them, fighting at their sides.

As for Pendaran, she saw him rarely now, primarily when he and Zhou met her for the evening meal.  Now that he was no longer her patient, an idea that seemed amusing to her in retrospect, they had forged a pleasant if undemanding friendship. Teleri was not blind.  Pendaran was attracted to her, but she had no illusions about love now.  She surmised that he was merely channeling his gratitude for her nursing him at best.  At worst, she was a lightning rod for his nearly palpable libido.  She was a ranger, after all, not a sophisticated dancer or poet.  Rhys had come from peasant stock, and while he had enjoyed the finer things in life, he had never forgotten his roots.  She doubted she had anything of lasting consequence in common with Pendaran of noble birth.

Still, it was nice to dream and the little bit of attention he could lavish upon her was flattering.  Smiling to herself, she stroked Geetha’s flat brow as she stood gazing down on the rose arbor.  The lynx purred loudly, thrusting its cheek against her thigh.  For such a large animal, the cat was capable of small delicate sounds and mewed softly before trotting on ahead, its rump rising humorously as it rubbed against the base of a trellis.  The lynx’s stubby tail seemed to be beckoning her and she laughed, following the cat through an archway of cascading wisteria blossoms to a patch of chamomile lawn.  The apple scent of the herb filled the air where it had been crushed beneath Pendaran’s sleeping form.  He was curled on his side, his handsome features the image of peace as his face rested lightly upon his folded arms.

Today he was clad in a plain black linen cassock pulled over unbleached pantaloons as if he were masquerading as a monk.   He radiated exhaustion.  Teleri wondered what Zhou was doing to him during the hours they spent sequestered in the guild leader’s study.  Geetha stretched and moved toward the mesmer.  Before she could call the foolish cat back, however, the lynx licked his jaw with her raspy tongue and drew him instantly awake and sputtering.

“I’m sorry!” she cried, “Geetha!”

Blinking tiredly, Pendaran sat up and regarded first Teleri, then Geetha.  This time he did not scramble to escape, only raised his hand and brushed the big cat’s spotted flank.  Geetha rewarded him with a raucous purr and a head-butt to the jaw.

“She’s sort of demonstrative,” Teleri explained awkwardly, covertly apologizing but delighted Pendaran was no longer afraid of the lynx.

“I’ve noticed,” he replied, smiling, “She keeps me company during the day sometimes.”

“Oh.”

“I don’t mind,” Pendaran said to her startled expression, “Once I realized she had no taste for mesmer flesh, we became friends.”

“Mind if I sit with you?”

“By all means,” Pendaran replied, moving a little to make room for her on the small patch of lawn.  Geetha curled up against his thigh and laid her head upon his knee, occasionally throwing her head back to rub against his hand in delight.  A knot of sadness vied with Teleri’s joy as she remembered Rhys cuddling Geetha while she was still just a cub.  The two had been fast friends.  In fact, she often wondered if Rhys had actually tamed the lynx and Geetha had merely tolerated Teleri as a surrogate companion in his absence.

She accidentally brushed against Pendaran’s thigh as she nestled down beside him, blushing when she felt a thrill of heat pass through her being.  He was so incredibly handsome now that his hair was filling in, deep brown with copper highlights, the color of ripe chestnuts.  The gauntness was beginning to fade as well, replaced with weary contentment.  His eyes were the color of sunlight on ocean waves, misty and green.  Lyssa had surely sculpted him with her own hands to be so perfect.

He blushed under her stare and stroked Geetha distractedly.  She noticed his hand was trembling slightly as he focused upon the lynx.  What was the harm, Teleri thought, as she pressed against Pendaran, leaning against his flank and resting her cheek against his shoulder so that she could smell his musk mingled with the apple sweetness of the chamomile?  Teleri sighed as her body trembled with desire, the whole of her aching for the feel of a man once more.  It had been three years since the last time Rhys had lain with her.  Three long miserable years.

So what if Morisedd did not approve?  Scoundrel, he had called Pendaran, but he had not immediately approved of Rhys, either.  Besides, one little fling was none of his business.  Pendaran would go his own way and she would have a little relief.  She closed her eyes and shuddered as he drew his hand softly along her jaw, his very touch telling her she was precious to him.  His fingers traced the line of her throat and she turned toward him, silently praying he would take her into his arms and kiss her.
 
“I can’t, Teleri,” he breathed and she sat quivering with desire as he rose to his feet, his arms wrapped around his chest as if he did not trust his hands, “I’m sorry.”

“Do you find me unattractive?” she protested, embarrassed as the words spilled from her mouth.  Teleri felt foolish and confused, her body betraying her with its sudden appetite.  It was unbecoming, she knew.  She was a mother now.  She had to think about the consequences for her son.  How could she be so selfish and stupid?

“I want nothing so badly right now,” Pendaran croaked and she realized he was aroused, his body tensed with desire.

Teleri flushed with embarrassment.  Watching Pendaran fight to resist her was like pouring oil on a fire.  Her body shuddered with lust and her face flushed yet another shade of red.  She rose and stood before him, her hands trembling as she reached out to grasp his shoulders.  If he was going to play hard to get, she was only too happy to take the initiative.

“No,” he choked miserably, backing away and nearly falling over the bench behind him.  Teleri laughed and dropped her hands.  Pendaran’s expression was at once precious and pathetic, pleading mixed with fear, “We should part now.  I promised Zhou.”

Zhou’s name was like a slap of cold water.  Her flame was immediately doused, replaced by disappointed anger.  Pendaran blushed and stared at the ground, still embracing himself but no longer transfixed by desire.

“I’m sorry,” he rasped again, and this time he was sad in his sincerity, “I should not have touched you like that.  I have wronged you and broken my word.”

Their passions cooled in the awkward silence that followed, neither of them able to look at the other.  Geetha rubbed against her shins as if to soothe her.

“I don’t feel wronged so much as disappointed,” she said at last, realizing that all she wanted from him now was reassurance that they were still friends.  He held out his hand to her and she clasped it gratefully.

“Care to walk a little?” he asked.

“Of course,” she replied and an inexplicable pang of sadness caught in her throat.  She loved him.

Oh gods, no.  Lust she could somehow excuse.  It was a passing thing and soon mastered.  No, this was something deeper.  She would do anything, give anything to bring him happiness.  It was not that he was beautiful, she just felt alive in his presence, more alive than she had felt since Rhys had crossed over into the mists.  She had never thought she would feel that way about anyone else.  Or hoped for it.

Stupid, she chided herself.  She was acting like a foolish girl.  She was infatuated, that was all.  Loneliness had a tendency to do that.  And Pendaran was beautiful.  How could she not feel that way?

“Have you been upstairs?” she asked, at last finding a topic that would avoid any further awkwardness.

“I’m afraid not.  I have mainly seen the inside of Zhou’s study and my room.  He gave me the morning off.”

“What do you do all day?”

“Whatever he tells me to do,” Pendaran replied, “Work, I guess.”

“Is he kind to you?”

“Painfully so.”

Teleri frowned and Pendaran laughed at her.

“He does not harm me,” Pendaran insisted, “but he does not let me shirk.  Having a mind reader for a master has a definite down side.”

“Can you read minds?”

Pendaran shrugged.

“Not so well any more.  Emotions, somewhat.  And even when a mesmer can read minds, it’s not clear.  The more split the target is, the easier it is.”

“Split?”

Pendaran frowned thoughtfully.

“You’re not split, so it’s hard to explain.”

“You were split, though?”

“Into dozens of pieces.  Zhou could read me like a book.”

“Could?”

“Not so much any more,” Pendaran grinned, “but that is by intention on his part.  I was a pretty lousy mesmer by the time I got here.”

Teleri laughed and leaned into him, grateful when he released her hand and gathered her up in a half-embrace, chaste but loving, before he clasped her fingers again and they continued their walk.

“So what is upstairs?” he asked after Teleri had paused to pluck roses from the arbor.  She gazed demurely up at him as she removed the thorns and tucked one into the front of his cassock.

“I want to show you.  It’s a surprise.”

Pendaran blushed in a way that she was finding incredibly endearing, almost childlike.  Then he smiled broadly and gestured back toward the largest of the buildings they both dwelt within.

“Lead the way.  I have to go soon, though.”

“More work?”

“Of course.”

“But I’ll see you at supper?”

“If he lets me eat,” Pendaran teased.

“You’re making Zhou out to be a tyrant.”

Pendaran laughed as if to suggest she did not know the half of it.  Still, he did not appear willing to discuss the nature of his lessons or work, so she drew him along, guiding him through the wide door above the garden and up the polished wooden stair. 

“Close your eyes,” she instructed as they approached the door.

Pendaran obediently did as she asked and she noted how steady he was on his feet now, graceful as she moved past the arrayed chairs of the little hall and guided him to a velvet seat, urging him down.

“Wait there, no peeking.”

She shifted a gilded harp into position and took his hand, placing it gently upon the strings.  Slowly he leaned forward, eyes still closed, both hands perusing the strings as recognition softened his visage.  He pressed his face against the shoulder of the instrument and sat there in silence, his visage streaked with tears.

“I’m sorry, Pen, I didn’t realize…”

“No, it’s alright,” he replied tenderly, “Thank you.  Thank you for this.”

And then he began to play and it was her turn to weep as his hands danced lightly over the strings, filling the chamber with the sweetest, saddest music she had ever heard.  Softly at first, he mouthed the words until at last he began to sing, his voice warm and silky, a stunning tenor that made her throat ache with joy and grief.  Like Rhys, only bearing subtle thorns of longing and pain.

That was what was inside of him, she realized, a beautiful creature alone in the world, and she wanted to lead him away from it all, to shelter him with her love.

Pendaran grew silent and the song drifted away unended.  He had not opened his eyes and now he gazed upon her sweetly, holding his hand out to her so that she clasped it upon his knee.  Then he looked up over her shoulder and nodded in deference to Zhou who stood in the doorway watching, his expression serene but otherwise unreadable.

“I have to go,” Pendaran whispered to her, “Thank you.”

She watched him rise and he squeezed her hand a final time before walking away.  At the doorway, he bowed once to Zhou and left ahead of him.  Smiling to herself, she dried her eyes and sat beside the harp, running her fingers absently over the metal strings, not realizing that Zhou was still there, watching her thoughtfully.

“That was very kind,” he said, “I am glad Pendaran has a friend in you.”

Before she could answer, the man bowed and was gone, leaving her to her reverie.