NaNoWriMo 2005: 6837 Words

Pearl had expected Celwyn to send her away after that, but instead she was led up to Celwyn's high chamber, where she now sat in a chair across from the wizard Talwyr, swinging her legs. Celwyn was hovering over the fireplace, preparing something for the weary traveler to eat.

"Now," the wizard spoke, "how old are you, Pearl? Seven years, would it be?"
"Almost eight," she answered shyly.

"Hmm." Talwyr surveyed her critically. "Certainly a bit small to be standing sentry at the Temple gates. But much bigger, nonetheless, than when I saw you last. You were but a babe then, I believe. Though," he smiled as his eyes momentarily rested on Celwyn, "it does not seem so very long ago."

Pearl's mouth fell open. "You know me?" she asked.

"Um, yes," the wizard answered. "Yes, I suppose you might say that I do."

"How?"

Celwyn looked up sharply.

"That's a story for another time, I'm afraid, Pearl," he replied softly. "Another time."

Celwyn went back to stirring over the fire. Pearl, dissatisfied with the answer and frustrated that something was so obviously being kept from her, became bold.

"Are you really a wizard?"

The old man chuckled a little. "Yes, I suppose so."

"You don't look like one," Pearl frowned.

"Oh?" Celwyn raised an eyebrow at her. "And what should a wizard look like, pray?"

"Well..." Pearl thought hard. She didn't want to make this nice old man angry at her by informing him that he ought to be much more clean and majestic and arrogant. She finally settled on, "Your robe ought to be nicer. With pictures on it."

Talwyr's youthful eyes sparkled. "Appearances can be deceiving, Pearl. It's time you learned that, even if you learn nothing else from me."

That seemed like a very wizardly thing to say, Pearl thought. "Can you do magic?" she asked.

He appeared to consider this. "What kind of magic?"

"Any kind!" Pearl said emphatically. "Like... did you make the birds do that, before you came?"

"Do what?" He raised his eyebrows.

"You know! They were... they were dancing!"

The wizard burst out laughing. "Yes, I did do that, now that you mention it. Thought you'd appreciate it."

"I thought so." Pearl sat back with a satisfied smile. "I thought that was you." Talwyr looked like he was about to say something, and then changed his mind as Celwyn set a bowl of fruit and some fresh bread before him and before Pearl. "But I thought there weren't any wizards anymore," the girl continued, hand hovering cautiously over the food until Celwyn nodded, at which point she began to eat eagerly.

Well," Talwyr responded, "It would appear that there is at least one, wouldn't you say?" Pearl giggled.

"Wizards are very rare now, it's true," Celwyn explained, "but they are not completely unheard of. You noticed that Dirnas bowed before him. Don't deny it, I saw you smirking. Wizards like Lord Talwyr don't answer to the priests, although many of them begin as priests themselves. Wizards answer only to the Gods." Celwyn sighed. "You're not even listening, are you child?"

"Nevermind," Talwyr said. "You concentrate on the food, child. Don't mind Celwyn, she just likes to nag."

Celwyn rolled her eyes, still smiling.

Talwyr sat back and looked at Pearl again, and she knew he was taking in every inch of her, every bruise, and making note of it all. She shifted uncomfortably in her chair under the severity of his gaze.

Finally, he asked, "Are you happy in the Temple, Pearl?"

She swallowed, hard, to prevent herself from choking. No one had ever asked her this before. She hardly knew what to say. What did he mean by happy? The Temple was the only home she really knew; she had her place there. But she could remember the feelings of a home she'd had before, and the warmth of a mother's embrace. She thought that, maybe, this was what happiness was like. The Temple was not like these memories at all, not ever. The closest Pearl could come to those half-remembered feelings was when she stood outside the Temple gates. Maybe that was why she sometimes cried at night. Part of her wanted to pour out everything, tell Lord Talwyr all of it. But she couldn't. No, she knew how she ought to answer.

Staring down at her bowl, she answered quietly, "Yes, sir," hoping that he would not believe it.

He didn't.

"Really? You are an odd sort of child if you enjoy being starved and beaten. No one will hurt you if you tell me the truth. I promise you that."

She looked up, looked into his eyes. There was sympathy there.

"Well... oh, Lady Celwyn is very nice to me."

"Yes, I know. Lady Celwyn is good. But everyone else...? Are you happy here?"

Was he saying that the Wise Ones were not good? She couldn't pause to ponder the question. "Well... my room is dark."

"Dark?" he repeated.

"Yes. Very dark, sir, and it's scary."

"I see." He nodded, with a serious demeanor. "I see." Then, half to himself, "Unusual, indeed." He sat back. "You may go now, Pearl."

Quick to obey, Pearl was swiftly on her feet and out the door, with only one backwards glance before it shut. Talwyr and Celwyn's eyes met. Quietly she crossed the room and put her hand in his.

"My lady," he murmered, and stood to embrace her. "You are well?"

"I am, and that's a ridiculous question when you're the one all about the place as though you were still young." She buried her face in his shoulder again for a moment.

"I'm here now," he said soothingly. "And I'm fine."

At last she pulled away.

"That girl," he commented, "is an unusual one."

"Yes. She'd have to be. I do the best I can to protect her, save her from the worst of it, but I cannot watch her all the time."

"I know." He considered for a moment. "I believe I'll take her down the hill today."
"Good. She'll like that. And we haven't much time, after all."

"Her room," he asked skeptically, "is dark?"

"No windows. A closet, really." Celwyn sighed. "It can't be helped. I know she's young, but it's just as well all of this is happening now. She couldn't stay here much longer, anyway."

"I know."

In a split second, the Lady's features grew angry. "How could you have placed her here in the first place? I said then, it's not right. Poor thing. All these years. It can't go on any longer. What they do to her now is bad enough, but... you know what they do-- to the older ones."

"I know," Talwyr said. "I know, and I completely agree. But you know there was no place for her so safe as here back then. You know it as well as I do, that's why you agreed with me."

"Yes," Celwyn admitted. "But that doesn't mean I ever liked it."

"And now... in speaking of the older ones... Fianna...?"

"Yes, she sees it. It grows stronger every day. There will be a Speaking, you know, when the Queen is gone. Then it will come out."

Talwyr let escape a sigh. "I have just come from the Palace. I don't believe she will last the night."

Celwyn shook her head sadly. "A great Queen who has suffered much. May the Gods speed her home."

"And then, a Speaking," Talwyr said thoughtfully. "There will be an uproar."

"It can be handled."

"Soon, then."

"Soon she will tell them."

***
Fianna was twenty-one now. Until she was seventeen, had held Pearl's place in the Temple. There was always a child there, kept and treated like an animal. Worse than an animal, really, because the people in the Kingdom fed their animals and tended to them. The Wise Ones said that keeping the child helped to appease the Gods. Because of the scapegoat child in the Temple, the Kingdom was kept safe. Sometimes it was a boy, and sometimes it was a girl. When the child was little-- perhaps until the age of twelve, although not always that long-- it was only beaten. When it was older, worse things were done. Pearl didn't know about that yet, but Fianna did. For five years, she had endured it. Some said it had driven her mad.

Truthfully, no one, not even Celwyn, knew precisely what had happened in Fianna's mind. Only it seemed that in her misery she had turned to the Gods for solace. In the dark of her tiny room she had prayed to the Gods, asking them why her life was lived in pain, asking them to know their will... and then, one silent night, they had answered.

Some said that something in her had finally broken that night, and that she went mad. Others said that she had been given a gift from the Gods, a reward for her faith. In any case, either the Gods or her madness had saved her. Lady Celwyn had spoken with her alone for a long time, and then had spoken with Lord Maddeg for a long time, and the next day Fianna was put into seclusion in the Temple. She stayed in a light, airy room where she prayed and listened to the Gods, and only Celwyn was allowed to visit her. No one touched her anymore. Even those who believed she was mad were afraid of her.

Once a year and on special occasions she was brought out for a Speaking. Before the Wise Ones and the assembly she would fall into a trance and utter prophecy. If the prophecy was truly from the Gods, the Wise Ones reasoned, that was a remarkable feat. If not, well... the girl put on a good show, impressive enough to suit their purposes and fool those who needed to be fooled.

Soon, Fianna was to speak of the fate of the Royal House and of the Kingdom.


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