Chapter 17. Glory

orning arrived cold and laden with mist.  It glistened upon the rigging and tackle, dripped ponderously from the yard arms that intersected the Swift Wind’s two masts.  They were out of sight of land, adrift upon the empty sea with the wind rattling the damp sails.  Teleri watched the small crew hurriedly unfurl any remaining yards of canvas available to catch the meager wind.  The ship was becalmed.

She had not slept well.  Her berth was tiny with but two bunks.  Mabane, frightened, would not take the upper one.  In her current frail condition, however, the upper bunk had proved difficult with her frequent urges to vomit.  The smirks on the faces of the sailors as she had taken refuge at the prow suggested they were having a laugh at the expense of a seasick landlubber, little knowing she suffered from morning sickness.

In truth, she was worried.  Mabane had not been this difficult.  She had been sick for perhaps a week and no more.  Of course, Rhys had also hired a maid for her while he was out of the country on diplomatic missions and they had lived in relative comfort.  The things that had worried her in those days seemed foolish now.  Hugging the blanket to herself, she turned her back on the scurrying sailors and gazed over the endless horizon.  How might things have been different if the Searing had never happened?

“Mama?”

Mabane’s almost frantic call caused her to turn quickly, her hand slipping on the slick railing as she did so.  He looked so small and alone on the deck, seeking for her with large frightened eyes.

“I’m here, darling.  Come look at the sea.  Maybe we’ll see some porpoises.”

He rushed to her side like a frightened animal, the new sights and sounds putting him on edge.  Teleri was sad for him.  Before her first journey to Cantha he had been self-assured, sometimes nonchalant in his need for her.  Now it seemed he was constantly seeking her touch.  Nightmares and tears stalked his dreams once more and she seemed helpless to console him.  She drew back her blanket, offering him a place to huddle beside her.  He had been weeping for his eyes were red and swollen.

Now he clung to her and she furled the blanket them both, stroking his shoulder gently.  Leaving Murdi had been difficult for him.  He loved his uncle deeply.  Her brother had changed, for good or ill.  So much empty country lay between them now and she had neither the energy nor the desire to cross it.  What little she had left over was now Pendaran’s and he had nothing to offer her in return but more grief.

She needed Pendaran.  Not the sad, sorry, agonized shadow of him, but the one who had filled her hours with hope and happiness.  She wanted the Pendaran who had made her believe in love again.

“Why are you so sad, Mama?” Mabane murmured, holding her.

“I’m feeling very alone right now, sweetheart.”

“I’m here, Mama,” Mabane replied, wounded.

Teleri blinked away unexpected tears and kissed his raven crown.

“So you are, my darling,” she murmured, regretting that her boy had been put in such an awkward position.  He should be playing with other children, not worrying about his mother and a strange man’s pain.

“Are you going to marry Pendaran, Mama?”

“I don’t know, Mabane,” she replied, biting her lip when she realized this was the absolute truth.  She had not bargained on this turn in events, could not have imagined that the man she loved would be ruined like this.  She hated herself for being so shallow.  And yet it was too much.  She had lost the love of her life once already.  She was sick and pregnant and alone with a son who had shared the better part of her traumas and needed her.  And no one was there for her.  No one.

“Good morning, Teleri,” came Kantele’s gentle voice, as if summoned by the yawning chasm of need that dwelt within her.

“Hello,” she replied, smiling sadly.  Mabane huddled closer to her, afraid.

“Mind if I come stand with you?  The light coming through the mist looks so beautiful.”

Teleri nodded and watched as the woman drew beside her and gazed over the rail, watching their shadows trail over the mist as the rising sun struck their backs.

“Can you see it, Mabane?” Kantele asked with laughter in her voice, gesturing to something in the mist, “Look at your shadow.”

He emerged anxiously from the blanket and grasped the rail, gazing at the billows of swirling mist that obscured the water.  Then he laughed with delight, the sweetest sound Teleri had heard for a very long time.

“Mama, look! Rainbows.”

She followed his hand, seeing his shadow dancing over the mist.

“You can only see your own glory, Mabane,” Kantele said, smiling.  Teleri approached the rail and looked down at her shadow, seeing a spray of colors flowing around her shoulders.  The formerly hidden beauty inspired a thrill of childish delight and she smiled, hugging her boy and trying to see if the two of them could share the same aura of rainbow light.

“The sea is strange,” Kantele said, still gazing upon her shadow in the mist, “So much depth and mystery, unknowable and frightening.  And yet beautiful.  Like life.”

“Did you really come with us just to have traveling companions?” Teleri asked.

“I have long wished to travel to Cantha, but in truth, I knew Pendaran growing up.  I hoped he had news of my family for I have had no contact with them since the Searing.  We were never lovers, I hope you do not misunderstand my intentions in that regard.  I am alone in the world now, but I found solace among your family and friends.  I hoped that during this voyage I could repay that gift with friendship.  Your loneliness and pain have been much in my thoughts.”

Teleri was not alarmed by these words as many might have been. Rhys and Pendaran had made it clear that a mesmer could not pry unnoticed in the minds of others.  Most of them could pick up surface emotions, but there was something uncanny about Kantele.  She seemed to know exactly how to remedy a situation, when to use a carefully placed word to diffuse tension or ease emotional pain.  Her presence had been like a balm to Teleri’s shattered nerves and she often found herself wishing the woman were present during her now frequent moments of sadness.

“I would like to be friends,” Teleri said, “I adore Brigit, but I can’t talk to her the way I can with you.”

“She has a good soul and in time she will grow in wisdom.”

“Well said,” Teleri chuckled, “If I ever found myself in a dangerous place, she is exactly who I would want with me.  No offense.”

Kantele chuckled and nodded in agreement.

“Mabane, see if you can find a place on the boat where your glory is brightest.  Be careful now and do not get in the way of the crew,” Kantele said, shrewdly buying them some time alone.

Teleri smiled as her son trotted eagerly along the railing, pausing every few paces to gaze at his shadow, occasionally raising his arms to measure it.

“Was Pen a scoundrel when you knew him?”

“He had some noticeable flaws and was often a source of gossip among the lesser nobility.  All the Caradec men were handsome to a fault, and they knew it.  However, his main failing was a tendency toward sloth and the squandering of his talents.”

“There were more than one of them?” Teleri laughed.

“There was his father, Baron Dylon Caradec, infamous for his raucous hunting parties and penchant for womanizing.  His uncle, Maelon, was a well known singer and performed in the royal opera but I am told he had many dalliances with the leading ladies.  He had an older brother, Owain, but he was slain during the last Guild War in Orr.”

“He never speaks of his family.”

Kantele shrugged.

“He is not fond of the past.  When we met in the market, I could sense that he had a great deal of pain attached to it.  Most Ascalonians do. I thought it nothing extraordinary.”

“Did you know my husband, Rhys Tegerin?”

Kantele tilted her head slightly in thought, her auburn hair falling forward and obscuring her delicate features.

“Black hair, stunning blue eyes?  Creamy complexion?  I see the resemblance in Mabane.  I believe I did meet Rhys in the royal court.  Was he a diplomat?”

“Yes.  I never knew what happened to him.  He sent us away.  He knew something bad was about to happen and somehow convinced Sywno and my brother to pick up and leave Regent Valley before the Searing happened.  He sent me and Mabane away with them and promised he would find us.”

“I had friends in the royal court.  Althea never breathed a word of any impending calamity.  We knew nothing.”

“Did you see my husband during the Searing?  Or after?”

“I was in Ascalon the day it happened.  I recall that many of the diplomats had been sent into foreign lands to seek support for a coming war with the Charr.  It was well known they were gathering in great numbers beyond the wall, but it was also felt we had the luxury of time to muster support from allied kingdoms.”

Teleri sighed, smiling as Kantele clasped her hand upon the railing.  Why was it so hard to let go of Rhys after all this time?

“If we were alive he would have come back to me,” she said, “I know he would.  I have to assume he died.”

“What little I knew of him led me to believe he was a man of honor.  I imagine it has been hard to mourn for him without knowledge of his fate.”

“Very much so.”

“So many died, Teleri, so much chaos and confusion, it is hard to say what his fate might have been.  It is quite possible he was in Ascalon at the time of the Searing and I simply never saw him.  We were still finding bodies in the rubble weeks later and by then most of them had no faces or names.”

“I’m sorry,” Teleri said.

“No need to apologize, my friend.  It was a bitter time for everyone.  I am merely glad we survived.”

Mabane came rushing back to them, excitedly pointing toward the stern and describing the color and dimensions of the rainbow that had wreathed his shadow there.  Teleri hugged him to her side and ruffled his hair, smiling wistfully to herself.  She had lost Rhys, and yet some small joyous part of him lived on in Mabane and she treasured it.

“Mabane, would you mind staying with me while your mother goes below to get some sleep?”

The boy nodded, smiling at the woman brightly.

“I’ll be fine,” Teleri stammered, yet she badly wanted to rest without her son cleaving to her, “I should go sit with Pen for a bit, as well.”

“Xiang Yi has him heavily sedated.  He probably won’t wake up until late this afternoon.  Let me take care of you in the meantime.  There is no need for you to shoulder everyone’s burdens.  Your own are enough.”

Teleri embraced Kantele and thanked her.  She already felt lighter, her despair lifting enough that she could appreciate the simple beauty of her glory arrayed upon the misty sea.