Lords of Darkness and Shadow (142 page)

“Where all Valkyries go,” she murmured. “Walhalla. It is where all of the great warriors go when it is time for them to move on to another life. When it is time to die.”

Arabel thought on that a moment. “Will I go there, too, when I die? I thought I would go to heaven. That is what the priests say.”

Louisa could feel her life draining from her. Her arms and legs were growing very cold and she instinctively knew she was not long for this world. God had given her just enough time to reconcile with her child and now that it was done, there was no longer any reason for her to remain. It was time for her to go.

“Wherever you go, I shall see you there,” she murmured. “But for now, you must stay and continue to protect your father. That is what you were meant for.”

She closed her eyes and faded off as Arabel, Tevin and Cantia watched. The hut grew excessively quiet, for not even the sounds of Louisa’s heavy breathing filled the stale air.  It was Cantia who finally went over to the woman and felt her pulse, realizing she was gone. She looked at Tevin with big eyes, implying the worst, and he took the hint. As he turned to leave, Arabel stopped him.

“Is she dead?”

Tevin nodded faintly. “She is, sweetheart.”

He started to move again but she balked. “Please,” she begged her father, “I… I just want to touch her. Can I please touch her?”

Tevin realized he was fighting off tears. He wasn’t sure why, but he was. Perhaps it was because Louisa had done what he had asked and given Arabel a true sense of worth.  Perhaps it was all fantasy; perhaps not. In any case, Arabel would forever remember the last words of her mother and cherish them. Louisa may have wronged both Tevin and Arabel once, but in the last few moments of her life, she made up for it. She gave Arabel the right to dream.

Silently, he took her over to her mother’s body. Arabel wanted to be put down but there was no place to sit her, so he ended up putting her on her spindly knees as she sat next to the bed. When Cantia tried to move close again, he held out a hand to her and had her keep her distance.  In fact, he moved back as well, going to stand with Cantia by the door as Arabel sat beside her mother’s bed.

Arabel gazed at the face of the woman who gave birth to her, seeing her own features in the weathered reflection.  Lifting a weak arm, she gently touched Louisa’s hand, her wrist, feeling her still-warm flesh beneath her touch. Then, she reached up and pulled the blanket off the woman’s head, revealing hair that had mostly fallen out. Louisa was almost completely bald.  But Arabel gazed at the woman with some pity, some warmth, and stroked the sparse hair anyway. She was sad, but not terribly so. In fact, she felt rather comforted.

“If you are not in heaven when I get there, I will demand they take me to Walhalla,” she whispered. “I will tell them I am a Valkyrie and they will have to let me go. But until that time, I promise I will continue to protect my father. Thank you for leaving me behind to protect him. I am glad you did.”

Bending over, she kissed the woman’s wrist and covered her head back up with the blanket. Then she turned to Tevin, who was standing near the door with Cantia in his arms and tears in his eyes. Cantia had her head turned but Arabel could see that the woman was crying. She smiled at the emotional pair, having no real idea why they were so weepy.

“Do not be sad,” she said. “Look at her face; there is a smile on it. Do you think she was happy to have met me?”

Tevin blinked back his tears. “Of course she was,” he said hoarsely. “She was very honored.”

Arabel looked at the woman, somehow beautiful in death as she had not been in life.  Her skinny fingers lingered on the woman’s hand. “Will we bury her in the cathedral now?” she asked. “She is your wife, after all. That makes her a countess.”

Tevin looked at Cantia, who was wiping the tears off her face. It was Cantia who answered.

“She will be buried with the greatest of honors, as the wife of the Earl of East Anglia,” she said softly. “But, more importantly, she was your mother. That affords her the greatest and most honorable funeral of all. Would you like that, sweetheart?”

Arabel nodded, lifting her arms to her father, who scooped her up off the floor. Thin arms wrapped around her father’s neck, she gazed at Cantia.

“Did you know your mother, Cantia?” she asked.

Cantia’s gaze moved to the dead woman, her attention lingering there for a moment.  Thoughts of her own past hovered in her mind. “Nay,” she looked away. “She died when I was very young. I do not remember her at all.  In that respect, I think you were very fortunate to have met your mother. I wish I had.”

Arabel reached out a bony hand to Cantia, who took it snuggly. “I think I was fortunate, too,” she said, squeezing Cantia’s hand. “She said that I am meant to protect my father. I think I shall protect you, too.”

Cantia smiled gratefully as they moved to the doorway, opening the panel to reveal the brilliant sunset beyond.  Streamers of orange and yellow brushed across the sky and they all paused, gazing up into the coming night because it was so beautiful.

“Soft strokes of the colors of sunset that appear vibrant against the deep blue sky,” Arabel uttered softly, repeating the words her mother had spoken to her as she looked up at the brilliant night. “Father, do you think she meant to leave this sunset for us?”

Tevin followed his daughter’s gaze. Then he kissed her cheek and managed to stroke Cantia’s shoulder affectionately. He couldn’t remember ever feeling so satisfied or so free.

“I do not think she meant it for all of us,” he said softly. “I think she only meant it for you. It is the last gift she could give you.”

Arabel liked that thought. As she looked up into the glistening clouds, somewhere, someway, she could see Louisa winking at her.

She winked back.

EPILOGUE

July 1156 A.D.

“Mother,” the young man was very serious. “I am quite capable with a sword. You must not worry.”

Cantia was seated in the solar of Thunderbey Castle, gazing up at Talus and wondering when her little boy had grown up.  At sixteen years of age, he was already as tall as his father although he lacked Tevin’s bulk. That would come with time, she knew, but it was difficult for her to separate the young man from her little boy. She had already been forced to do that with Hunt before she was ready, as he was now the powerful Steward of Rochester at the young age of twenty one years.  He had Brac’s good looks and sensibilities but Tevin’s heart and soul.  It was a wonderful combination. 

Now, Talus was her second oldest, an extremely handsome young man with her lavender eyes and Tevin’s features.  He even had his father’s long, copper colored hair. But she wasn’t sure she was ready for him to grow up completely.

“Mother?” Talus said impatiently. “Did you hear me?”

Snapped from her day dreams, Cantia sighed heavily. “I heard you,” she said. “Where is your father? What does he have to say to all of this?”

“He sent me here to tell you.”

Cantia’s eyes narrowed. “He did?” She set aside her sewing and stood up. “Where is he?”

Before Talus could reply, there was much chatter and laughter descending from the upper floors. The small solar was tucked back in the big, box-shaped keep of Thunderbey underneath the stairs, so any movement up and down the stairwell always tended to sound like a herd of cattle running about. Noise echoed. 

Eleanor du Reims, the image of her gorgeous mother at fifteen years of age, was the first down the stairs with her siblings close behind. She held on to the youngest child, Kinnon, who was only four years of age, but Tarran, Tristen and Elizabetha were clustered in behind her, antagonizing each other. As children verging on young adulthood, they tended to be confrontational with each other. As Cantia listened to Tarran harass his younger sister, she called out to them.

“Tarran,” she said in a threatening mother-tone. “Stop pestering your sister. All of you; come in here, please.”

The gaggle of children wandered into the solar, Kinnon running to his mother and lifting his arms to her.  Cantia picked up her youngest, a blond little boy who looked a great deal like Hunt had at that age. She looked at the group around her.

“Talus,” she addressed her son. “Your father is taking an army to Wales and I am quite sure he did not ask you to join as a full-fledged warrior. I believe he is taking you and your brothers as squires.”

Talus was grossly unhappy as Tarran and Tristen beamed; at thirteen and nine years of age, respectively, they had recently been called home from fostering at Pontefract Castle because it had been heavily besieged by the Scots twice in the past two years, and Cantia was frantic to bring her children home. Begrudgingly, Tevin had ridden north to bring the boys home, who weren’t quite so sure what their mother was all worked up about. Their father said it was something about the irrational Scots. Now, with the prospect of accompanying their father to the Welsh border on behalf of King Henry I, they were thrilled.  But Talus was jealous because his younger brothers had seen more war action than he had.

“But I have my own sword,” Talus argued. “Father will not allow me to use it because he knows how upset you become. He….”

Talus’ argument was cut off when the door to the keep entered and the grating of mail could be heard.  Tevin made an appearance in the solar entry as Elizabetha and Tristen ran to him, both of them trying to talk to him at the same time.  Tevin threw up his hands.

“I cannot understand more than one conversation at a time,” he said, bending over to kiss Elizabetha on the forehead and putting a fatherly hand on Tristen’s shoulder.  “What is all the fuss about?”

“What it is ever about?” Cantia sighed. She went to her husband, kissing him.  “Talus has informed me that he will be accompanying you as a warrior and not a squire to the Welsh marches. Is there truth in this?”

Tevin looked at his tall son, wriggling his eyebrows at the lad. “I told him he could bring his weapon,” he admitted as he looked at his wife. “Lord Marmion swore to me that Talus is already a very good warrior, and I must concur. I have seen Talus in practice and the lad has no equal.”

Cantia lifted an impatient brow. “I realize he was the shining hero of Tamworth Castle when he fostered, but I also know that he is only sixteen years of age. I am not entirely sure he should be fighting Henry’s wars.  He is not even a full-fledged knight yet.”

Tevin’s gaze was a mixture of warmth and disappointment. “Do you not trust my judgment any more than that?”

Cantia sighed heavily and set Kinnon down, who was beginning to squirm. “Of course I do,” she said, more gently. “But you are also a proud father and… Eleanor, why don’t you take the children into the hall?  The nooning meal should be ready.”

Eleanor took Kinnon and Elizabetha, but the older boys seemed inclined to hang around until Tevin gave them a threatening glare and pointed to the door.  Only then did Tristen and Tarran move, however slowly, with the other children. Talus, however, didn’t seem to think the request pertained to him until Tevin literally grabbed the boy by the shoulder and pushed him towards the door. Unhappy, Talus followed the rest.

When they were finally alone in the solar, Tevin looked at his wife.  Outside in the ward, he could hear the shouts of sentries, alerting the castle to an incoming rider, but he ignored the cries as he focused on his wife.

“I know you are unhappy about my going to the marches,” he said softly yet sternly. “You have made that clear, and I have made it equally clear that I must go.  I am too important to the king’s arsenal and he is determined to unite England and Wales, so I must do this. It is important.”

Cantia didn’t have a logical reply for him because she knew he was right, so she frowned verily and he put his arms around her, pulling her close.

“You are too old to be fighting,” she protested weakly. “You must leave it to the younger men. You have already put in your time, Tevin. You fought for Stephen for years and now Henry. I do not want you on the front lines any longer. I want my husband home.”

“And I
am
home,” he chided gently. “You wanted Talus home, so I brought him home.  Then you wanted Tristen and Tarran home because you were afraid for them, so I brought them home as well.  Eleanor came home from Kenilworth when she was twelve because you could not bear to be away from her, and Elizabetha and Kinnon have yet to even foster and I am not entirely sure they ever will.  We are all home with you, Cantia, and if it were up to you, we would be all bottled up safety in the bosom of Thunderbey for the rest of our lives.”

Cantia was deeply frowning by now. “There is nothing wrong with wanting to have my children and husband safe and home.  We have seen enough fighting and battles, you and I.”

He kissed her forehead. “I know, sweetheart,” he murmured. “But England is only safe so long as the next generation is prepared to defend and preserve her. Talus is ready to do that, as are Tarran and Tristen.  You must let them grow up, and I must show them how. Will you please let me do that?”

Cantia tried not to let depression overwhelm her. So she simply hugged him, knowing she couldn’t adequately voice her protests to the point where he would understand her. Not this time. He was right and they both knew it.

“Life seemed much simpler during the days of Rochester,” she muttered. “When did it become so complicated?”

Tevin laughed softly. “You mean the days of Charles and Gillywiss?”

Cantia smiled in spite of herself as she remembered the outlaw, from so long ago, who had changed the course of her life.

“I miss him,” she muttered. “I miss his eccentric ways. Do you remember when he came to our wedding dressed as a woman? I would not have known it was him except he was wearing one of my old surcoats.”

Tevin snorted. “I remember that Simon flirted with him and then nearly killed him when he found out he was a man.”

That brought soft laughter from Cantia. “And Arabel,” she murmured. “She was oddly attached to him after that.”

“She knew he had brought her mother to her. It endeared her to him.”

“It endeared him to us all.”

“She told me that he had visited her at the abbey a few times. Did she mention that to you?”

Tevin nodded as he thought on his frail, intelligent daughter who had, at age eighteen, decided to pledge herself to holy servitude. It had seemed to be the right decision for her, but he missed her tremendously. What was it he had told Cantia?
You must let them grow up.
It was easier said than done.

Tevin sighed, his cheek against the top of Cantia’s head. “Times did seem simpler back then but I know they were not. Time has a way of easing memories until all you can recall is the good.”

Cantia was forced to agree but she was prevented from replying when Talus suddenly burst back into the room, holding something aloft in his hand.

“Father,” he sounded eager. “A messenger just came from Lohrham Forest!”

Tevin looked startled for a moment, glancing at his wife. “Myles,” he muttered, moving to his excited son and collecting the missive the young man held. He stared at it a moment before breaking the seal. “It must be about….”

Cantia was beside him, literally twitching with excitement and apprehension. “Oh, it
must
be,” she said anxiously. “Hurry and read it. What does it say?”

Tevin had the missive unrolled. By this time, the other children had wandered back into the solar because they, too, had seen the messenger from their position in the great hall. Knowing they had all be awaiting news from Lohrham Forest, the small castle where Myles and Val had lived for many years, they were anxious as their parents were to hear the contents of the missive.  Tevin could see his brood in his periphery but his gaze was fixed on the carefully scripted letters.

“I have prayed daily for them,” he muttered, trying to bring the message in to focus.  His eyes weren’t what they used to be. “Two stillborn children in the past sixteen years and now….”

Cantia was beside herself. “Now
what
?”

Tevin read slowly.  He didn’t want to get ahead of himself.  Then, as Cantia watched his face, a smile gradually spread across his lips.  She swore she saw the glint of tears in his eyes as he began to read aloud.

“My sister gave birth to a healthy boy four weeks ago,” he announced.  “They christened the child Christopher and he is doing very well.  Myles says he has never seen a child eat so eagerly.”

Cantia closed her eyes. “Thank God,” she breathed, hugging her husband tightly. “Oh, thank God. They have waited for this child for so very long. Finally, a healthy son.”

Tevin was beyond words at the moment. He was so thankful on behalf of his sister and of Myles that he was nearly weak with it. All he could do was wrap his arms around Cantia and thank God for his own blessings. He had been given so many that it was difficult to count them all. He knew, without a doubt, that he was the most fortunate man alive.

Tevin, Talus, Tarran and Tristen went to the Welsh marches after all to assist Henry I of England in his quest to unite England and Wales. Although the battles, for the most part, were not successful, all four survived and the three young men, sons of the great Earl of East Anglia, went on to fight for Henry for many years while their father retired to Thunderbey Castle to live out the remainder of his life with his wife by his side.

Three years after the birth of Christopher, David de Lohr was born to Myles and Val. Christopher and David grew up to serve Richard the Lion Heart in The Levant, and eventually became two of the more powerful noblemen in the High Middle Ages.  Christopher was granted the title Earl of Hereford and Worcester by King Richard, while David was eventually granted the title Earl of Canterbury when he married the heiress. Both men were strong supporters of the crown and major players in the annals of history.

Beautiful Eleanor Britton du Reims married the Earl of Newark, Geoffrey Hage, at seventeen years of age and gave birth to the first of four sons, Kieran, the very next year. Kieran Hage went on to become one of the more powerful knights in the arsenal of King Richard, serving in The Levant with his cousins Christopher and David de Lohr. He also ended up marrying a rather strange Irish heiress and returned to her homeland with her, forsaking the family honor and relinquishing the title of Earl of Newark to his younger brother, Sean. At least, that was how the Hage family recorded the event, but some scholars disputed that finding.

Finally, Huntington Penden became a powerful warlord in his own right as Steward of Rochester Castle and his own son, Brac, assumed the title upon the passing of his father.  Arabel du Reims eventually became Mother Superior at Yaxley Nene Abbey in Leicestershire, devoting her life to the contemplation of heaven versus Walhalla and trying to find her answers within the word of God. She was relentless in her search for the truth and developed a reputation within the ecclesiastical community as a whip-smart scholar, a fair superior, and a strict task master.

When she finally discovered the verity to the great question that had driven her most of her life, her mother, indeed, was waiting for her.