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| Chapter 52. Akestora | |
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t first Isabeau felt odd talking about herself to Peng Ren. His mind focused upon her with an unblinking intensity. At first she painted images of her home near Lion's Arch and the people dearest to her. Through her he could see the expanse of green lawn that flowed beyond her balcony down to the forest and hear the laughter of her nephew at play. She described the tenacity of her father staying to ward their home despite the warnings of her brother. At the thought of Tristan, she recalled the tenderness that had been in his eyes the last time he had looked upon his son. Inexplicably she began to weep as she had not during the lonely weeks she had stayed on the island. “I am sorry," Peng Ren said into her mind, "You should not have to suffer like that." "I'm being silly. I'm sure he's fine, he's always been able to look after himself. I don't know why I fret so." "Because you love him." It was unnerving how quickly she opened herself to him, a perfect stranger. Isabeau remembered the warnings of her mentor, Akestora Lundel. Such mental connections were dangerous, creating instant intimacy that was particularly intoxicating when one was lonely and frightened. Isabeau resisted the urge to lean up against Peng Ren, annoyed with herself for wanting him to hold her like a simpering girl. Yet her tears kept falling, intensifying as his hand tightened over hers and she felt the warmth of his compassion. "I shouldn't trouble you with this," she babbled, annoyed with herself for losing self-control and burning with embarrassment. "I wondered when you would feel as sad as I do about your situation." Isabeau lowered her face, but she could feel him gazing upon her beyond the mask, seeing her in a way that no one save Tristan could. And it was terrible how much it made her miss her brother, how much it made her realize that she longed for his acceptance and understanding. It had been the only thing that had kept her sane during the loss of her child. "I don't know what I'd do without him, he's always been there for me," she thought in a rush, embarrassed that she felt so vulnerable and dependent upon another human being. She was the strong one, wasn't she? She was the one who had made sure her brother got home safely after his drunken binges. Gods, she did not want anyone to know about the child that had died within her, it was too much. She felt Peng Ren withdraw, knowing he had glimpsed what she wished to hide. Embarrassed, she mopped the tears from her eyes and struggled to regain her composure. He must think she was a terrible person, a loose woman who had given of herself too freely outside of the bonds of wedlock. She was a fraud and, no doubt, a disappointment to him. “Why are you ashamed of something that gives you such pain?" he asked her in his simple gentle way. "Can't talk about it," she pleaded, fearing she would come undone. "You alright?" asked Lemony. She had been dozing on the opposite side of Peng Ren, her little body curled against him like a limpet. Now Isabeau understood why everyone showed him so much gentleness and affection. "I'm just... feeling a little sad is all," she said, trying to keep the pain from her voice. "Poor thing," the little monk clucked, "You've been through so much and it must be awful not knowing whether your family is alright or not." Before Isabeau could protest, Lemony scuttled over to sit beside her. "Pen told me you needed a hug," she confided as she wrapped her arms around Isabeau. Micah stirred for a moment then yawned expansively and went back to sleep, untroubled by Isabeau's momentary sorrow. For the first time in weeks she felt the genuine comfort of other human beings. A chuckle escaped from her throat at the little monk's words and she heard the faintest snort of amusement from Peng Ren. "Are you ever going to tell me why you wear that mask?" she thought after a time, her tears gone as she rested in Lemony's embrace. For the first time she felt the bristling of his shame and sorrow. He withdrew, the faintest whisper of his spirit lurking at the edge of her awareness. "I've prattled on about myself for at least three hours," she insisted, "I thought we were going to share." "It is complicated," he replied evenly, "Master Bei requires it of me and I obey him." "It seems an odd thing to require of you," she sighed, annoyed that he was being so evasive when she had just opened up to him, "I guess Canthans do things differently." "Bei does things differently," Peng Ren replied and she sensed his bitterness. "Is he cruel to you?" Isabeau asked, her stomach clenching at the thought of someone being mean to this gentle soul. "If he feels it is necessary." "You're not going to tell me, are you?" she grumbled, "So it seems we are not equals after all." He flinched, shamed by her words but clearly conflicted. She realized then that he was afraid of the consequences of revealing the truth, not just because of her opinion of him but what it would mean if Master Bei discovered he had broken his silence. "Ask me anything else," Peng Ren said with a sigh. Isabeau clasped his hand where it still rested between them. She ran her thumb over the soft kid-leather of his gloves, wondering what else he was required to hide. "Tell me something about you," she said after a time, "Something you are able to share." He was quiet for a time but she was aware of the busyness of his mind as he considered carefully what he wished to reveal. "You could start with where you came from," she prompted, annoyed that he was being so evasive. "Ascalon, south of Rin near Regent Valley," he replied without emotion. "Really? I thought you were Canthan... with a name like Peng Ren." "It is the name Master Bei gave me, thus that is who I am," he replied withdrawing mentally as he spoke, "Everything I reveal will only require more answers that I cannot give you. I apologize, I was dishonest in offering to speak freely." For an instant she heard the faint patter of his mind hardening around an incantation, as if he were centering and using a mantra to grow calm. But it was unlike any mantra she had learned, steady and monotonous as the tide of breath. Then she realized he was counting and she glimpsed the fear and disorder behind its mindlessness. He shut her out, locked now in the procession of numbers against the terror of overwhelming helplessness. "Pen?" she uttered into the dimness, hoping her voice would reach him across the chasm of terror. "What's wrong?" Lemony asked when she heard the fear in Isabeau's voice. By then, Peng Ren had snatched his hand away and had drawn his knees against his breast. He rocked slowly, his breath hissing anxiously between his teeth as he counted his heart beats in silence. Isabeau looked on in horror as Sister Lemony crawled over her and went to Peng Ren's side, stealing his hand and squeezing it tightly as she nearly shouted into his ear. "You're safe, Pen. Do you hear me? Stop this at once!" Micah stirred and began to cry. Disoriented and sensitive to the confusion and fear around him the boy clung to her, his increasingly loud wails only driving Peng Ren to greater heights of madness. "Can't escape," he babbled, his voice childish and rasping as the little monk fought to hold his hands. "Stop!" Lemony cried to the driver up on the bench above them. By now his struggles were becoming too powerful for her to control and the little monk was being jerked around as Peng Ren tried to break free. The wagon rumbled to a halt and Isabeau heard the scramble of people rushing around outside. It was horrible to watch and she feared for Micah's safety in that cramped space. Frantically she held the boy up to the driver, relieved when the man took the squalling boy away. "Let me try something," Isabeau said, eager though she was to join Micah. Her opportunity to be of use was fast slipping away as Peng Ren snarled like a cornered animal when Lemony refused to release him. Lemony did not respond for she was too engrossed in trying to prevent Peng Ren from hurting himself or others in his terror. With trembling hands, she grasped his head, trying as gently as possible to hold him and break through the tumult of madness. "Peng Ren, do you hear me?" she asked, trying to keep her mental voice as level and firm as possible. Her Akestora training had barely prepared her for this and she was afraid her uncertainty and fear would cloud her efforts. Focusing, she thrust past his meager defenses, seeking for a stable piece of him amid the chaos. Nothing, he was lost and she had not the expertise nor experience to probe further. "Please, let me help you," she pleaded with him, her own despair mingling with his. For a moment the raw edge of his terror knifed through her and she bit back a scream. The poor man had been tortured, driven to the very limits of endurance and sanity and her heart was near to breaking with sorrow for him, "This pain is not who you are." "I don't want to live like this!" he howled miserably, "I want it to end, just finish me." He became limp, the fight gone from him as he sobbed like an abandoned child. Isabeau held him now, speaking softly in his ear. "Dying would have been a good thing when you were suffering like that," she said gently, "but that's not true any more." "But I'm broken," he stammered as if he were offering evidence of his failings, "I can't even function without this stupid mask and I'm not even supposed to be talking to you." Lemony chuckled at his words and guided Isabeau's hands to his, encouraging him to take them. "You're better at this than me," the monk giggled, "and don't worry, Pen, I won't tell Zhou you spoke while on duty." "Thanks," he murmured, as his head rested wearily on Isabeau's shoulder. "It's getting late anyhow, might as well make camp and get some food in you," Lemony said as she rose and prepared to climb out of the wagon, "I'll see to Micah." For a while he simply rested in her arms, weeping quietly as she stroked his arm and squeezed his hands to ground him. He was exhausted, but she was relieved to sense that his spirit had returned and he was soon back to his old centered self. "I apologize for what happened," he said into her mind some time later as the busy sounds of his companions drifted into their sheltered space. "No need to apologize," she said, "I am glad I was here to help. I wish I could do more." "Me too," he said after a moment of hesitation and she smiled to sense his fleeting happiness followed by a pang of embarrassment, "but it is not to be. When we have reached our destination, we will be parted. I must trust in the guidance of my master." "I know. Until then, I will do what I can." |
