Dragonhearts
Wheresoever you go,
go with all your heart.
-Confucius
Chronology: Tristan is 19. Lancelot is 17. Raja is 9.
The young mother had not lasted long. She had already been a little waif of a thing, a bit lost, a bit dependent. Daisy. Her name represented innocence. She had only been seventeen when she died. Three months after giving birth, her heart just seemed to stop beating – perhaps from weakness, perhaps from being broken by the man she loved. He had wooed her, inveigled by her purity – her innocence. Yes, he had taken her heart, her soul, her virginity, all the things she had offered freely. And though he had never mentioned love, in her naïveté she had assumed that he did. Why else would he have pursued her so adamantly?
Daisy had run away from home a little over a year ago. Her parents ran a farm on a villa, some fifty miles from the fortress. There had been talk of a betrothal, something Daisy did not want. She was young, virile – and she wanted it to remain that way. She had wanted adventure. So away she ran. She had heard of the hustle and bustle of the fortress, the talk of the Knights, undefeated in battle. Befriending a woman named Vanora, she had found work in the tavern, the place where she had first set eyes on the man she had fallen so hopelessly in love with.
Yes, he had taken her heart, but given her a healthy baby girl. The young girl just simply did not have the will to go on. She had never told the father she was with child, so dismissive of her that he was after being a constant lover for near two months. He had tired of her, she had supposed. And with the wilting of his affections, so came the wilting of her will to live.
Daisy was buried in the cemetery that was reserved for the occupants of the fortress. Her child was without a mother and a father, an orphan at three months old. The only people who new of her family was Vanora, Raja, and a kindly old woman that had taken care of her in her convalescence. All they knew was that Daisy’s family ran a villa farm not too far from the fortress.
----
Raja cradled the baby in her arms as she sat in a large rocking chair. She had been a constant presence during Daisy’s pregnancy, having come to know her through Vanora. To her pleasure, Daisy had treated her kindly, and after a time, like a little sister.
Thea sat in the sunny room, smiling at the little girl’s affection towards the orphaned baby. Raja giggled when the baby smiled at her, a gurgle of spittle bubbling in her throat. The little Egyptian blew a raspberry at the baby girl, causing another wide smile from her small companion.
“For someone so young, you’re certainly good with infants, Raja.” Thea grinned at her.
Raja beamed at the compliment, her child eyes sparkling. “My mother was a physician and healer in the Colony we lived in. She delivered many babies at the time.” She nodded her head in the confirmative.
“Has there been any word from Daisy’s family?” Vanora asked.
Raja pursed her lips, suddenly quiet. A letter had been sent out from her Uncle Ardeth three days ago, informing the late mother’s family of the untimely death of their daughter, who had left an infant in her wake.
“No, not yet,” the mother replied. “It’s only been a few days; we may not hear anything for a week or so. And that is only if Daisy’s family is sympathetic to their loss.”
Cautiously, Raja spoke. “Thea? What if her family does not want the baby?”
The woman sighed. “I do not know, child. But something will be done.”
“Hmm.” Raja looked down at the infant. “Well, I’ll take care of her.” I will, Alanis. I will protect you, too. That was Raja’s silent oath.
----
“I want to say goodnight to Alanis,” insisted Raja to her Uncle.
“You have already bid her goodnight, Raja.” Ardeth looked at his niece fondly but remained firm in his decision. “Now, it is off to bed with you.”
Raja was about to protest once more, but her Uncle dipped his slightly, pursing his lips. She knew that it was fruitless; she would simply have to wait until the morning to see the baby again.
Just then, Lancelot came into view, knocking on the softly even though it was already obvious that Ardeth and Raja had seen him. Raja’s eyes lit up at seeing her cousin.
Lancelot cleared his throat. “I uh...just wanted to say goodnight.” And so he had been every evening since Raja had been captured by Woads two months ago. He had promised himself that he would be more attentive, and he was keeping that promise, getting to know his young cousin better in the process as well. Talking to her for a spell at her bed time before going off to the tavern to finish his night.
Ardeth tucked Raja in, giving her a kiss on the forehead before he left. He patted Lancelot on the shoulder as he passed him at the doorway. Lancelot took his usual seat next to Raja’s bed, who already had her little mouse under the bridge of her hands. He scrunched his nose in perplexity.
“Is that the one who nibbled a hole in my boot?”
“No, that was Frick. This is Frack, his brother.” She stroked the mouse’s head softly.
“What happened to...” – it was still odd for him to speak of his cousin’s mouse friends as if they were people – “Frick?”
Raja sighed remorsefully. “He passed away. I told you.”
“Oh. It’s difficult to keep all your uh...friends straight.”
She nodded in understanding. “No worries, Lottie.” She stared at him in apt acuteness, her eyes settling on every one part of his face before moving on to the next.
“Do I have something on my face?” He asked, after a long silence of her observation.
“You have the same nose as my father,” she replied quietly. “The eyes, too. He said that he and your father looked almost like twins, so I suppose that’s why you resemble my own father.”
Lancelot’s eyebrow’s raised, a wrinkle knitting in-between. “My father told me that, too.” He smiled fondly, a bit ruefully. It always gave him a sense of solidarity with his cousin when, even though their families had lived far apart, because of the bond of their fathers, they sometimes mirrored each other. He tended to remember more of his family when he spoke with Raja, memories coming to his mind that had been long buried.
She rubbed her eyes, suddenly looking a bit more tired than when he had walked in. “I’ll let you go to sleep now.”
Raja stifled a yawn. Then she opened her arms, as she always did for a hug. She seemed to hold onto him a bit more tightly this night as he bent to embrace her, and it tugged at his heart. When they let go of each other, she raised Frack up to him.
“I’m not hugging him.” Lancelot shook his head.
“A kiss then.”
He laughed, looking at her almost in disbelief. “Not in a million years.”
Raja snorted. “Fine, fine. But don’t come complaining if you find another hole in your boot.”
“It was you who let Frick bite a hole in my boot?”
“No. You called him vermin. I had no idea what he had done until you started whining.”
He scoffed. “As if he understood what I said.”
“Of course he did. Sometimes your tone is very belligerent.” Raja looked at him in mock reprimand.
He snorted in the same manner as his cousin. “Big words for a little girl. Go to sleep.”
Raja said goodnight to him, snuggling further under the covers. Before Lancelot closed the door, he took once last look at her. Her eyes were already closed, and she seemed so much smaller as she slept. It was a wonder how sometimes she could seem larger than life at her brighter times, but then, at times like these, she appeared so small and vulnerable. He slowly understood why, without even trying, she invoked the need in people to protect her. And then why, it was such a gift to have her take such good care of the people she loved in return.
----
A week turned into two, and there was still no word from Daisy’s family. Ardeth was especially disconcerted for the missive should have reached them by now. There were only three farming villas outside of the fortress walls, and one of them had to harbor Daisy’s family. The Egyptian sent for Flavius, the young soldier whom he had given the letter to, to give to fortress’s courier who went out regularly for such matters.
Flavius entered Ardeth’s office, saluting him. Ardeth nodded his head in return.
“You sent for me, sir?” Flavius stood, back straight, hands down by his sides. He could only hope that Ardeth was not displeased with him.
“Yes. The missive I gave to you. I am making certain that it was put into the hands of the courier.” Ardeth raised his eyebrows in inquiry.
For a moment, Flavius looked confused. “I uh...” – he cleared his throat – “your niece said she would give it to the messenger.”
He looked at the young man through half-slit eyes, tipping his head in speculation. “Elaborate, please.”
Flavius swallowed a large lump in his throat. He did not want to seem as if he was blaming the little girl, but...Ardeth saw the boy’s uncertainty, and put him at ease with a genial grin. “The truth shall suffice.”
He nodded. “I was on my way to give the letter as you commanded. Your niece met me halfway, and said that she was heading in the direction I was going and would take the missive to the courier’s office. She rather, um...took it from my hand before I could reply and assured me that it would be delivered.”
“Ah. I see.” Ardeth’s tone gave away nothing as to his thoughts. “Thank you, Flavius. I can take it from here. But next time I give something for you to complete, make sure that it is you who sees it out, even if it is my young niece who tries to impede you.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Dismiss.”
Flavius saluted again, and left the office.
----
Raja and Vanora sat in the Egyptian’s girl room, Alanis in their company. Raja had been working day and night to finish knitting another pair of tiny socks for the baby – light blue, with yellow at the toes. She sat once again with the baby in her arms by the window. Alanis was already fed from a wet nurse, bathed and changed, now sitting comfortably in the hands of Raja.
Raja was in the middle of reciting a story to the baby, while Vanora listened on, when Ardeth appeared in the doorway, a stern expression on his face.
He nodded his greetings to the young woman. “Vanora, would you excuse us, and take the child along, please? I have words to be spoken with Raja.”
“Of course.” Vanora stood up from the chair and bent to take the baby. Raja reluctantly let go, staring at the two as they departed.
Ardeth shut the door behind him and took the seat across from Raja. The implacable manner in which he held himself confused Raja, for her Uncle was rarely in such a mood with her.
“I had a word with Flavius.” Ardeth looked at her to see if his words invoked any sort of familiarity. When they did not, he continued. “The missive I gave him, he says that you took it from him, assuring that it would be given to the courier.”
Now, the little girl shifted in her chair, her mouth quirking in unease.
“Raja.” He said her name firmly, that one word demanding the truth.
She sighed in defeat and got up from her chair to walk to her small writing desk, pulling out the letter from one of the drawers on the side. She then handed it over, surrendering as if she had been found out as an illegal spy. Raja plopped back on the chair, twiddling her thumbs on her lap.
“Would you like to explain?”
Raja looked up at him, then away, shaking her head.
“No?”
She bit the inside of her lip, raising her head once more so her Uncle could see the conflict in her eyes. Raja seldom opposed him in anything, and it had been the same with her mother and father, she told the truth because she sporadically did things that required a lie. Ardeth sat there in silence, waiting patiently for an explanation.
After a time, the stillness wore down and she spoke quietly. “I want to keep Alanis.”
He acknowledged her revelation with acceptance. “Alanis has a family waiting for her, Raja. You cannot take care of an infant by yourself.”
Raja’s mouth opened in wordless contention.
“Little one,” – he waited to gain her full attention – “I know why you want to keep Alanis, but you must understand that it cannot be done.”
“But I can take good care of her!” Raja insisted.
He continued to be calm, knowing that this subject was a delicate one. “You are but a child yourself. Do you understand?”
Raja expelled a rush of air from her nostrils, contemplating her Uncle’s words. Her face turned solemn, and her eyes lost their static resistance. “I can still love her though. Isn’t that enough?”
He took his time in answering. “Sometimes, little one, love is not always enough. Especially when it comes to caring for people who are incapable of caring for themselves – such as an infant.”
Raja sniffled and bent to pick up Frack who had settled himself by the leg of the chair. She said not a word as she petted her small friend, still trying to wrap her mind around the full importance of her Uncle’s words. When Ardeth saw that she had nothing more to say, he spoke. “I will leave you here to your thoughts while I take this letter the courier’s office to be sent to Alanis’s family.”
With her head down, Raja nodded.
“And tomorrow I would like you to apologize to Flavius for your imposition on his duties.” He was met with another nod. Ardeth stood up, staring down at the small head of his niece. Despite the impetuousness of her actions, he knew why she had done it. He also knew that the prospect of the child staying was also unwise. The baby needed a full family to prosper and grow. And though he had no doubt his niece had an abundance of love to give to the infant, she did not have the means to meet all the other necessities a baby required. So he left her to contemplate, for she still did not fully grasp the depth of his words.
----
Four days later, Daisy’s family received the letter with both sorrow and joy. The mother and father sent the courier back with a reply of acceptance, writing that they would arrive forthrightly to claim their grand-daughter.
When Raja was told, her heart landed on the floor. She had been partly hoping that Alanis’s grandparents would not want to adopt the child, but so they had. Now she would have to come to terms with losing the baby. She couldn’t accept that Alanis would be taken away from her, and as the days grew close to the date when the grandparents would arrive, the little Egyptian became increasingly despondent to everyone but the baby. She spent as much time with her as she could, telling tales of her own Sarmatian kin, even though the infant could not understand her.
Alanis had gone to sleep early the night before she was to depart. Raja had bid her goodnight, and went to settle Odin down. Tristan walked in the stables, not long after Raja had, to see her sitting sadly on a bale of hay as Odin, freshly groomed, drank from a trough of clean water. He had been wondering all this time what had drawn Raja to the baby, as far as he knew, he could not recall a time when she had ever been so interested in babies.
Without raising her head, Raja greeted him wistfully. “Hi, Trissy.”
He pulled up a bale of hay to sit next to her, procuring an apple from his pocket. He held it out to her, asking if she wanted half, but she declined.
Raja cast her eyes on him. “They’re coming to get her tomorrow, you know.”
Tristan, almost in slow-motion, nodded his head. “Why do you care so much?”
“Because...”
One of Tristan’s eyebrows arced, waiting for a complete statement.
“Remember when I shaved Lancelot’s head, and you noticed a red dot on it? I told you I had one, too, and that my father had one and Lancelot’s father had one, and so on. Because it’s only passed down from the fathers.”
“Yeah.”
“Alanis has one.”
Tristan’s eyes snapped to Raja, halting mid-chew on his apple. After a moment, he resumed eating, and swallowed. “Could you be wrong?”
“You don’t believe me.”
He grunted in reluctant denial. “I guess there’s no other reason why you would attach yourself to it.” Tristan expelled an amused breath.
“What?” She couldn’t understand what was funny about the situation.
“Nothing, nothing.” Figured that bastard would sire a bastard sooner or later.
Raja peered at him, ready to pursue his source of cheer, but he stopped her with his own question. “I take it he doesn’t know.”
“No...I thought about telling him. But Daisy said herself that she would rather he didn’t know because he wouldn’t claim the baby anyway.”
“Probably.”
“Nobody else knows?”
“My Uncle.”
“I figured that.”
They sat in quietude for a while, Raja reflecting on Alanis, Tristan reflecting on how Raja would take it when the baby wasn’t there anymore.
“Do you like babies?” she asked.
This night was full of questions that were catching him off guard. “They make me uncomfortable.”
“Me too.”
Tristan snorted. “That other one doesn’t?”
“Alanis did at first.” Raja bit her lip, a distant sheen of contemplation washed over her eyes. “Why do they make you uncomfortable, Trissy?”
He shrugged lazily, a ready answer not at hand. He gave her
a glance that said, What about you?
She didn’t reply at first, but picked at a loose piece of straw. “Because they’re innocent. And I think...it’s a hard task to handle something so delicate. But at the same time,” – she scratched her nose – “you take it on because you can’t help but want to protect someone or something that represents” – this time, she bit her lip, struggling to choose the exact words she wanted – “a piece of yourself that is missing in you.” Raja went over the words she had just said, seeing if they made sense. “Yeah, that’s it.”
Some time later, Ardeth came to take Raja to her room, while Tristan continued to sit in the stables, contemplating the enormity of the words that had been spoken by such a small child. They stuck in his head, repeating themselves like an echo. She wanted to take care of the baby not only because it was her family, but because it represented innocence, something that Raja thought was missing in herself. The belief of that notion of hers hit him directly, because to him, she was exactly what she had mentioned – innocent and delicate. And how or why she would think otherwise not only confused him, but made him feel distressed that she felt that way at all.
----
Garreth and Angelina, Daisy’s parents, arrived at the appointed time, eager to see their granddaughter. Raja had stuck to Alanis like glue the entire morning, holding every second to her tightly. Secretly, Raja had slipped a flat piece of wood in the shape of a dragon’s head, in Alanis’s blanket.
Alanis - Lancelot’s mothers name who was from the Alans
tribe of
Garreth and Angelina spent some time speaking with Ardeth, thanking him for the notice. They left with the baby in mid-afternoon; Raja had not been in the courtyard to see them drive off in the wagon. She was too afraid she might be tempted to run after it, screaming that Alanis was her family and belonged with her. Instead, she sat in her room, curled up in a ball on her bed. Her Uncle had poked his head in to check on her, then closing the door without a word.
Day by day, Raja spoke less. First it was from the loss of her second-cousin, then all her other demons began to oppress her as they usually did. To Raja, Alanis had been some sort of barrier between her and her ghosts, but now that she was gone, the purity that had blinded Raja’s demons, keeping them at bay, were now making up for lost time. She tried to get out bed, but her entire body felt heavy, and her sleep was fraught with night terrors and cold sweats, until her Uncle gave her an herbal medicate so she could sleep.
After a month, the little Egyptian felt strong enough to step outside for a few hours each day. She still did not speak, and sometimes she did not even acknowledge anyone’s presence around her. Her studies were pushed back, as she could concentrate little or not at all on any sort of thing.
Another few weeks went by, and although Raja was up and out every day, she still had not said a word. On a good weathered day, Lancelot went with Raja, riding with Odin and Adonis. He was a bit nervous being in her company, alone, when she was in a silent state. He never knew if she was going to start screaming or crying, for he wouldn’t know what to do if that happened. Tristan and Ardeth seemed to handle it just fine, but Lancelot had yet to be able to witness his cousin in such horrible throes of pain. But Ardeth assured him that she was merely in a contemplative state, and if she showed any signs of increasing unresponsiveness just sit with her for a bit, and if she does not come out of it, Horus would no doubt alert someone.
So now he and his cousin were dismounting in an open copse of greenery, a small creek nearby. Adonis and Odin grazed and drank from the water, as Horus flew in the area. Raja had brought a small basket to collect daisies, and his manly dignity would be completely expunged if anyone saw him carrying the small basket as he walked with Raja while she picked flowers.
“Don’t you think you have enough?” he asked.
She grinned at him, and shrugged. Raja relieved him of the offensively feminine basket and headed back to the clear area near the creek. She plopped herself down and began to make a garland of daisies. She pointed to a sack by the tree, which Lancelot found to hold some fresh bread, a flask of ale and an apple.
“I take it the ale is for me.”
Raja nodded, not looking up from her stem weaving. Lancelot felt the ensuing silence to be rather comfortable, and any misgivings or worries he had about his ability to watch over her went away. Eventually, he dozed off, waking how much later he did not know, but he did know that Raja was no longer in sight.
He scrambled to his feet, looking right and left and all around him for a sign of his cousin, only her shoes and flowers remained. Adonis and Odin were still mulling about.
“Raja!” His first call was clear and tentative, but after walking a bit of ways here and there, each call of her name became more frantic. “Raja!” Eventually his feet took him back to his starting point, and then he heard a voice.
“I’m right here.”
Lancelot turned sharply to see his cousin hanging upside
down from a branch seven feet from the ground. “What the hell do you think
you’re doing? I’ve been calling your name for...Have you been here this whole
time? Didn’t you hear me?” His anger turned to frustration, and then relief
that she was all right. Gods, caring
about someone is a pain in the ass.
“There’s a nest up here,” she said blithely, ignoring his questions.
“So? There are nests everywhere.”
Raja pulled herself up by the legs, gracefully positioning her into a crouch on top of the branch.
“You’re going to break your neck.” Lancelot craned his head to see her.
“Never, Lottie. I’m as good as any monkey in a tree.” With that, she stood up straight, her balance not wavering in the slightest. She walked towards a lower branch, descending the complicated structure of the tree as if it were a ladder. Raja jumped the last four feet, landing on her haunches without injury. “See?”
“You’re talking,” he stated, it having just dawned on him.
She raised and dropped her shoulders as if her voice was nothing miraculous. “There was a bird that had fallen out of the nest. Its wing was funny.”
“You should have left it then. A bird is no good if it can’t fly.” He sat back down on the ground, drinking the rest of his ale, the coolness of it calming the vestiges of his worry.
Raja followed his motions, sitting down by her flowers. “I didn’t say its wing was broken. I said it was funny. But I cupped my hands around it and then it was okay.”
Lancelot looked at her from above the top of the flask. “You can’t heal a bird with your hands.” He shook his head at the impossibility.
“Hmm.” Raja had resumed her garland making. “My mother said that love can heal anything.”
Lancelot’s scoff came so quickly that he didn’t have time to stifle it, not wanting to offend Raja.
“But she wasn’t...” – Raja formed the word carefully – “idealistic. She was a healer, and healers cannot be that. There is a catch.”
“Which is?”
“For a person’s love to be able to heal, the other person has to be willing to receive it.” Before he could reply, she held up the garland in triumph. “Finished.” Raja handed it to him. “Put it on.”
Lancelot laughed. “No.”
“I made it for the size of your head.”
“I’m not putting that on.”
“Please?”
“I am not putting flowers on my head.”
She scrunched up her face. “Fine.”
Odin and Adonis walked over to them, seemingly tired of their idleness. Raja and Lancelot rode back to the fortress and into the stables. She tried to hand him the garland of daisies again, but he refused. She “hmmphed” good naturedly, but left it at that.
It wasn’t until later that evening, as Lancelot was changing before going to the tavern, that he saw a small, single vase with one of the biggest, freshest daisies that had been in his cousin’s basket. He thought about doing away with it, thinking that a flower in his room would surely catch someone’s attention, but the idea was forgotten when he pulled his tunic out of his breeches, and a crushed petals fell to the floor.
“What the-” He looked up at the ceiling, rolling his eyes in exasperation. “That little...” But he couldn’t help but smile.