Chapter 6

A Story, A Gift, And A Clue

Jelena did not feel steady enough to return to the kitchen until well past mid-day. Unable to conceal the ugly bruise that discolored the left side of her face, she endured the stares and whispers of the other drudges in cold silence. Her thoughts were consumed with escape—she would need to plan carefully if she were to succeed—and how best to break the news to Claudia.

Ruby steered clear of her most of the time, and when she did have to pass near, she pointedly refused to even so much as glance at Jelena. Jelena couldn’t tell if the other woman felt motivated by a newfound respect for her former victim or by fear of Jelena’s newly revealed abilities. If Ruby was aware of Jelena’s magic, she gave no direct sign.

The mellow gold light of late afternoon had faded to the purple shadows of evening by the time Claudia came to the kitchen in search of her foster daughter. “Gods preserve us!” she exclaimed in dismay upon seeing the bruise staining Jelena’s face. “What happened, child?”

“Nothing, Heartmother. I fell, that’s all,” Jelena lied, unable to meet Claudia’s discerning stare.

“Don’t lie t’me, child. Tell me what truly happened,” Claudia demanded, taking Jelena’s chin in her hand and turning her face first one way and then the other, as if hunting for clues.

“Please, Heartmother, not here,” Jelena whispered imploringly. “After the evening meal…I’ve something very important to tell you.” Claudia frowned, clearly upset, but she did not press. Jelena gave her a quick hug and hurried off to fetch plates and cups for their supper. 

When the last dish had been put away and the kitchen fires were banked for the night, only then could Jelena return to the small room she shared with Claudia. Her foster mother waited for her, nervous anticipation evident in the way she held her large body, much like a she-bear poised to leap against any danger that might threaten her cub.

Jelena sat down beside Claudia on the edge of her bed and in a soft voice told her all that had happened in the duke’s study that morning. “I can live as a kitchen drudge or a maid… even a stablehand if need be, but I’ll not live as any man’s slave, Heartmother.”

“You’d have a far better life bein’ the concubine of a duke, child, than you’d ever have otherwise,” Claudia responded gently.

“I’d still be a slave!” Jelena cried. “Duke Sebastianus would own me like he owns his horses or his cattle, and he would be free to use or abuse me however he wishes. No. I won’t let my uncle dispose of me like a spare piece of livestock!” Jelena paused, took a deep breath, and forged ahead. “I’ve decided to leave Amsara Castle.”

Claudia’s lower lip began to tremble. The fire hissed and crackled in the grate. The room suddenly felt overheated and stuffy. Jelena edged closer to her foster mother, and waited for the storm to break.

Claudia let out a wail and began to bawl uncontrollably.

“Please, Heartmother, don’t cry!” Jelena begged as she fell into her foster mother’s arms. She tried to hold back her own tears, but she couldn’t—the pain of the moment overwhelmed her. She laid her head on the soft mound of Claudia’s bosom and allowed her foster mother’s grief to wash over her like a rain-swollen river, turbulent and strong at first, but gradually subsiding to a gentle flow, then to stillness.   

Only when the storm had passed and Claudia calmed down enough to listen did Jelena tell her of what had happened during her run-in with Ruby.

Claudia seemed unsurprised at Jelena’s revelation. “If Ruby dares t’ try an’ denounce you, I’ll strangle ‘er with me bare hands,” she said. She sniffled and wiped her eyes on her apron.

“Now do you see why I’ve got to leave here and go north, into the country of the elves?” Jelena brushed a strand of Claudia’s gray hair away from her watering eyes. “I won’t be going alone, though. Magnes has offered to come with me. He’s promised to help me find my father.”

Claudia nodded, as if coming to a decision. Her expression settled into one of quiet resignation as she rose and went to her chest. Lifting the lid, she shoved aside its contents and reached deep within, drawing forth a leather pouch. Wordlessly, she dropped the pouch into Jelena’s cupped hands.

“What is this, Heartmother?” Jelena asked.

“Open it, child. There be somethin’ inside that belongs to you, somethin’ you’ll need on yer search.”  Jelena loosened the thongs holding the pouch shut and upended it onto her palm. A small metal object fell out.

It was a man’s signet ring, crafted of heavy white gold with an inlay of black stone. The figure of a griffin, also wrought in white gold, had been intricately worked into the center of the stone. Jelena held the ring up so that it could catch the light from the lamps. The craftsmanship of the ring was exquisite, and she knew that it could have only graced the hand of a nobleman.

Jelena looked into Claudia’s eyes and saw the truth. “This ring belonged to my father,” she whispered.

“Aye, that it did, my lamb. Yer mother gave it into my keeping on the day you were born. Told me I wasn’t to give it t’you ‘til you were ready. Ay, gods, I knew this day would come!” Claudia lowered her bulk onto a sturdy wooden stool, clutching at her lower back and wincing in pain.

“I’ve a story t’tell ye, child. Yer mother told it t’me whilst I cared for her durin’ her confinement. It seems that, one day yer mother was out walkin’ in th’ woods when she came upon a young man who needed her help.”

As Claudia spoke, Jelena rolled the ring between her fingers, feeling its weight, trying to imagine the man who had worn it. Claudia told the story of how Drucilla, Jelena’s mother, had found a man half out of his mind from pain and thirst, lying at the bottom of a ravine. When she drew closer and saw what he was, she almost fled. All of the stories she had been told, every supposed truth the priests preached about elvenkind warred in her brain with her instinct to aid a fellow living being in dire need.

In the end, she did not flee. She brought the man water instead, holding his head steady so he could drink. It calmed him and brought him back to his senses.

“Yer mam could hardly believe her ears when th’elf spoke to her in Soldaran! He told her that his leg was broke, an’ that he needed her help. Seems he’d been tryin’ t’ get away from a patrol when his horse spooked and throwed him into the dry stream. He’d banged his head on a rock and knocked hisself senseless. Been there for days, in the summer heat, with no water and a busted leg.”

Drucilla knew of a small hut in the woods close by, occasionally used by the gamekeepers when they needed to stay out overnight. She would take the man there—if she could get him to his feet and moving—but in order to do that, his leg would need a splint.

“She had no way at hand t’ make such a thing, but she knew she could get some boards an’ cloth back at th’ castle, so she left him with her waterskin an’ a promise t’ return.” Here, Claudia paused in her narrative.

“Go on, Heartmother,” Jelena urged.

“Patience, my girl. I’m an old woman, an’ all this happened a long time ago. I want t’ get it all straight in the tellin’” Claudia replied. “Now, where was I?”

It took some doing, but Drucilla managed to gather up the things she needed for the splint, as well as some food. She was, after all, the duke’s sister, and no one would dare to question her. Afternoon had turned to dusk by the time she returned, and the man seemed to be either asleep or unconscious.

“Yer mam said she just sat for a bit, starin’ at him. She’d never seen a man so fair… As beautiful as the gods must be. After a while, he woke up and caught her lookin’ at him. He said not a word, just smiled, and my Dru fell in love.”

“Did my mother describe him to you? Did she tell you exactly what he looked like?” Jelena eagerly asked.

“She said he had eyes the color of the sky in winter… her exact words!” Claudia chuckled. “And dark hair shot through with silver, like an aging man’s, ‘cept that his face was that of a young man. That’s all she could say of his looks, other than he was beautiful in a way no human man could be.”

Claudia continued her narrative.

“Well, Drucilla told me she was able t’make a splint from the things she’d taken from the castle.” She found a fallen branch for him to lean on, and with that, and her help, the man could stand, then walk. Many times during the long, slow, journey to the gamekeeper’s hut, the man had to stop and rest. Pain, hunger, and thirst had sapped his strength.

“ By th’ time they reached the hut, the poor man was just about done in, and yer mother could barely hold him up.” Claudia raised her hand to her mouth and coughed. Grimacing, she waved towards a little shelf upon which sat a plain, ceramic jar and two cups. “Bring me some o’ that water, child. My throat is parched of a sudden.” Jelena quickly complied, and after Claudia had taken a drink, she continued her story.

“Well, she got him settled and took a closer look at his leg. There weren’t no bones sticking out through the skin, lucky for him, tho’ it were a bad break just the same.”

The man had fallen unconscious, and Drucilla took the chance to re-do the splint, cutting his boot off with his own knife beforehand.

“The hut was bare, not much but a cot, a table, and a stool. No fuel for a fire, no blankets, no food. She’d have to bring everything the man would need from the castle without anyone, ‘specially her brother, findin’ out. And, she’d have to pray that none of the gamekeepers came along and discovered her elf.”

“Yer mam was very clever and careful,” Claudia continued. “It took her several trips, but she managed to bring everything she’d need to care for the man proper like. He was helpless as a little babe, an’ he didn’t say much those first few days, mainly please and thank you, but as time passed and he grew stronger, she got him to talk to her.”

“He said he was a traveler, out t’ see the world before he had to take up his official duties. What those duties were, he never told. He’d wandered by mistake into our country. As soon as he got his strength back, he said, he would have to leave and get back ‘cross the border into his own land. He seemed very worried ‘bout what might happen to them both should he be found. Dru told him not to fret, that she’d take care of him.”

“Did my mother tell you his name?” Jelena asked.

“She said his name was Zin,” Claudia answered. “Not much to it, but that’s what he told her. Anyways, th’ two of them had a lot of time to talk together. He spoke very good Soldaran, and told Dru many, many interestin’ things about his homeland. There’s just somethin’ about bein’ that close to another person, taking care of ‘em and all. It brings up things… feelings that might not otherwise be brought up, if you catch my meaning.”

Jelena tried to imagine her mother’s thoughts and feelings. The danger and excitement of knowingly breaking one of society’s most important taboos, combined with the powerful physical urges of young womanhood—such a heady potion had obviously proved impossible to resist.

“She must have confessed her feelings to him at some point, otherwise…” Jelena began, barely able to keep her own excitement in check. For the first time in her life, she felt a genuine connection to both of the people who had come together to create her.

“Aye, she did. How could she not? She was so young and trusting. She believed him when he said he loved her, too.”

“Are you saying that you think Zin lied to my mother just to have her?” Jelena asked, a little miffed that Claudia might make such a suggestion. “Why would he do such a thing after all she’d done for him?”

“No, no, child! I’m not sayin’ that at all. We can never know what was in Zin’s heart, not truly. He had a beautiful young girl in love with him. He was a man, after all, even tho’ he weren’t human. I hope he meant what he said. Anyway, the two of them just did what came natural ‘tween a man an’ woman.”

“Not according to the priests and just about everybody else! Haven’t you heard? Elves are supposed to be soulless and unclean,” Jelena retorted sarcastically. “My mother committed an act of abomination when she lay with my father!” Her anger tasted of bitter gall on her tongue.

“I never believed that nonsense, child, an’ the gods know I tried to raise you to not believe it. Yer cousin Magnes, good man that he is, doesn’t believe it, either.” Claudia took another drink from her cup and wiped her mouth on the back of her hand.

“So, what finally became of Zin?” Jelena asked.

“He left, like he said he would. Yer mother knew he couldn’t stay, nor could she go with him, no matter how strong their feelings for one another. He gave her the ring as a keepsake. What he couldn’t know is that he also left her with a child… You.”

Claudia fell silent, lost in the country of remembrance where a young girl she had once loved still lived, laughing and happy. Jelena felt so tightly wound up that she could barely breathe. She knew so much more now than she did this morning. The mere possession of her father’s name, and an object that belonged to him, gave her hope that finding him would not be such an impossible task after all.

“Mother, why didn’t you tell me any of this before now?” Jelena asked. She continued to play with the ring, slipping it on and off her thumb.

“I could tell ye that it was because yer mother didn’t want you to know until you were ready, but that would be a lie. The truth is, I was afraid that if I told you, you’d want to go off and try t’ find him…yer dad, I mean.” Claudia shook her head sadly. A single tear leaked from the corner of her eye and trickled down her lined cheek. “I am a selfish old woman. I didn’t want to lose my baby.”

“You’ll never lose me, Heartmother, not really,” Jelena said. She reached out and placed her hand over Claudia’s. Conflicting emotions stirred her soul. She felt a little angry that Claudia had not told her about her mother and father, but at the same time, she ached for the loss that Claudia would suffer when she left.

“I have to find Zin, Mother. He’s the only one who can tell me what the blue fire means.”

“Ay, gods…I know you do,” Claudia murmured sadly.

Jelena raised the ring up to eye level and stared intently at the white griffin inlaid into its surface.

I will find you, Father... Or I’ll die trying.