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Chapter 2. In the House of Melandru |
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ver the spring, the Dunvael had consecrated a piece of ground in the depths of the island's forest and made for themselves a roomy longhouse that served as both dwelling place and meeting hall. A shrine to Melandru had been erected a short distance away beside a shimmering pool and there they had cleansed and annointed their new leader, Brioc, under Swyno's rheumy gaze. The elder was there that morning as well, frail as a sapling and gray as the clouds that ringed the dawn sky. But it was Brioc who sat ensconced upon the great wooden chair, the magnificent antlers arrayed above his head like craggy hands bestowing blessings upon him. Morisedd remarked that already Brioc had assumed the essential mantle of calm and dignity that the clan had always expected of its leaders. He was beloved of them for his even-handed approach, kindness and unflinching resolve. In another time and place, perhaps Morisedd would have been jealous that his rightful place had been usurped by a younger more popular man, and yet he was relieved. Soon he would be cast out and he would go away, never to return. He longed for solitude and freedom. To see others around him laughing and loving while he was bereft of everything was too much to bear. He was clad in a long mantle made from the pelt of a great black bear whose blood had annointed the first of the Dunvael. It was musty and balding and rustled with a trim of raven skulls and tufts of raven feathers. All who were brought into the fold were ceremonially welcomed while wearing it, and similarly, it would be stripped from him now that he had broken his word. He saw his one time guild mates kneeling on the beaten dirt of the lodge floor, their eyes downcast or looking away. Some of their faces were streaked with tears and others were harsh with judgment. His last dozen arrows were clasped upon Brioc's lap. They would be broken and he would never again fletch his arrows with the red of of the Dunvael clan. Oddly that thought caused his throat to ache with grief. All of his life he had known many of these men and women. Even when he had spent those long dusty years chasing after Uriel's freedom he had known that he could always come home to them wherever they dwelt. Swyno had become his father when his own parents had been murdered by bandits. He loved the old man with a fierceness approaching that which he had reserved for Uriel. Uriel, the love of his life, stolen from him and gone forever. And as if to torment him further, the man who had pressaged all of his losses strode into the longhouse and knelt inside the wide doorway as he was ritually cleansed with smoke from the burning resin of Melandru's most sacred tree. It sickened Morisedd that the blessings of the Goddess were offered so freely to such walking filth. He looked away as the two priestesses wafted the fragrant smoke over Pendaran's bowed form before directing him to remove his shoes and stockings that the cool earth that was Melandru's flesh could be felt beneath his feet. Trust Pendaran to come here to witness his final humiliation. He blinked the tears from his eyes as he was overcome with the bile of rage. He had no regrets about anything he had said to the mesmer. He had wished him dead on any number of occasions and that desire was more true now than ever. Everyone else was taken in my the corrupt cockerel's pretense at reform, but Morisedd knew him for what he was. And he was definitely not worth dying for. "Oh Uriel. Why? Why did you insist upon rescuing him from torment? He deserved to rot there. You only postponed the inevitable." As Pendaran moved to sit with the Dunvael, Morisedd regretted all the missed opportunities to kill the man. How easy it would have been to smother him as he lay wounded by the assassin's daggers. For his sister's happiness he had stayed his hand, but now Teleri was a stranger to him and his nephew Mabane regarded him with fear or open hostility. "Master Caradec, why have you come unbidden to this rite?" asked Brioc coldly. Pendaran had almost taken his seat on the other side of the room, but he hesitated and proferred a bow. "I seek to plead on Morisedd's behalf, Lord." Morisedd stiffened, grinding his teeth in horror at those words. What in the name of the Five? Brioc raised a shaggy brow and beckoned him closer. "Come, then, Master Caradec, and make your case before me. The rite has not yet begun." Dread clenched Morisedd's stomach as Pendaran nodded and moved quietly to kneel before Brioc's chair. "Lord of Melandru's House, I make a plea on behalf of Morisedd Dunvael. I know he has wronged me many times in word and deed, but he is a man driven by extremity and grief. I plead that he is granted the gift of mercy for I have forgiven him and have no desire to see him suffer. He is my brother before the Five Gods." "Your words are eloquent, Master Caradec, but his vow was to this clan and in disregarding it, he is disgraced and must face the consequences." "Then I, too, should be exiled, for my disgrace is tenfold his and yet I am honored by your clan. If he has wronged me, then it was just, for I treated his beloved as I might the lowest slattern and endangered them both needlessly with my selfish deeds. I forgive him. Is that not the requirement of his vow?" Morisedd could only look on in mute wretchedness as Swyno lifted his frail head. He was ensconced on a low bench while wrapped in blankets, a healer at his side. "Master Caradec, come here where I might look upon you," the old man rasped, coughing wetly. Pendaran rose obediently and went to kneel before Swyno, lowering his face when the old man placed his hand upon the mesmer's crown. "I doubted you were redeemed," Swyno croaked, "For a long time I watched you, seeking to find the flaws that Morisedd sees all too readily. But you are a changed man, and humble. You have weathered hurts that no mortal should be made to endure, and no mortal could endure without love. I sense you come here not because you love Morisedd, but because you love Teleri and your children." "I do not love Morisedd," Pendaran replied quietly, "but I forgive him. So much was lost in the Searing. My childred will not know their grandparents, at least let them be surrounded by the love of those who remain. He has been a good friend and guide to Mabane and a steady ally to Teleri while I walked in shadow and madness. I would not have him cast out for the legitimate resentments he has with me." Grief caught in Morisedd's throat. Did Pendaran not see how he had turned Teleri and Mabane against him? How could be be so blind. No, he was simply assuaging his own guilt over what he had done. Hatred percolated from the depths of his misery. He did not need Pendaran's pity. It sickened him. "I choose exile," Morisedd said, his voice low with rage. "What man would choose exile over the love of his clan and family?" Pendaran said, "There is no better sign that he is not in his right mind. Do not send him away to perish alone and in bitterness. He is a man in need of healing and solace." Morisedd winced in rage and humiliation at those words. What did Pendaran know about his needs? "Morisedd, your inchoate hatred is a slur upon the abiding love of the gods. I hear your request, Pendaran," Swyno said, saying the mesmer's first name fondly as if he were now speaking to kin. He withdrew his palsied hand and paused for a moment to catch his breath, the mere act of speaking causing weariness as he approached the Mists. Still, Grenth had not come for the old man though his suffering increased daily. It was one more affirmation that the gods cared nothing for any of them. Morisedd bristled as even Swyno fell under the mesmer's enchantment. "You evil, conniving scum," he thought bitterly. "You have been heard, Master Caradec, and now you must abide the wishes of our clan. Go now with Melandru's grace and wisdom." Pendaran rose slowly and bowed to Swyno and Brioc in turn before walking obediently from the hall. He moved past Morisedd with eyes cast down, his pale complexion flushed with emotion. He honestly believed his own pretty lies. What a consumate liar. When he was gone, Brioc rose and sat beside Swyno, the two of them conversing in low whispers punctuated by breathless silences. At last Brioc returned to his ornate antlered throne and his warm voice filled the long hall. "Morisedd Dunvael, in light of Master Caradec's testimony, you shall not be exiled. Instead, you will serve the shrine for a period of one year and a day and will not leave its proximity in that time. You will pray at dawn and dusk for guidance, seeking balance from our matron goddess. You may do nothing on your own behalf that is not also for the good of the community. The council is ended." |
