Shamed (1/2)

Writers: Estelle
Date Posted: 22nd August 2005

Characters: Enriline
Description: Enriline recalls the circumstances surrounding the death of her first husband
Location: Amber Hills Hold
Date: month 7, day 11 of Turn 3

Enriline sat on the window-seat in her private sitting room, wrapped in a fur-lined cloak, and looked out at the snow. The evening air was chilly against her skin, despite the warmth of the fire behind her, and she knew that soon she would have to close the shutters. It would not do for her husband to come back after his day's work and find their rooms cold.

She did like to watch the snow falling, though. It was strange to her, for snow never fell in Emerald Falls - at least, not in the warm lowlands by the river where rich men, like her father, had their holdings. Only the very peaks of the mountains were ever white-capped, and the mountains were unsuited to Ladies, haunted as they were by bandits and the wretched inhabitants of prison-mines.

Her thoughts turned idly to Gevina, protected by the deep snows from the grasping man who had forced her to flee her home with her infant daughter. A bastard son, born of a shameless mother, brought up with no proper father - stranded between the respectable background of a holder and the low birth of some drudge or servant. How could such a person be anything other than jealous of his true-born siblings? How could he be trusted?

***

Thirty turns ago, another woman - Enriline, Lady only by courtesy then - watched from another window as a man on runnerback approached the hold. He was grey-haired, dressed in plain brown and dusty from the road, but slung over his back was an oddly-shaped wooden case that would contain a gitar.

The harper had been expected, since they'd sent word of the death to Lord Ziadriel a sevenday before. He dismounted in the yard and glanced out at the field to the west. It had been days ago, but there was still an ash-darkened patch on the dry earth where the funeral fire had burned.

Since a craftsman was to be respected, no matter what his birth, Enriline left her bedchamber and came downstairs, greeting the man in the porch. He looked to be in his forties, a true journeying man, weathered and tanned by his Turns on the road.

"Milady." He inclined his head, receiving the same gesture of greeting from her.

"Harper Theolan. Please, come in and take some refreshment." Enriline knew him well. He journeyed endlessly between the minor holds, farms and cots in this small area of Emerald Falls, staying with them for a sevenday at a time to teach the children their Ballads and their letters. For the rest of the time, Enriline had taught the littlest ones and tried not to wonder if she would ever have one of her own. Now, it seemed she never would.

"I was truly sorry to hear of your loss, Lady Enriline," Theolan said quietly as she ushered him indoors and drew up a chair at the long wooden dining table. "Holder Faymar was a good man."

"Yes, he was." She did honestly miss him. "But he was very ill, ever since his fall. At least he's in no more pain."

Theolan watched her as she turned, asking one of the drudges who'd appeared to stare at the visitor to fetch juice and cakes. She was dressed in dark clothing, as was proper, and there was sadness in her eyes, but not the agony and exhaustion of someone who grieved for the loss of a soulmate. Her husband had been a good deal older than her, of course, and it was unlikely to have been a love match.

In the Turns he had visited this hold, the Turns had barely left their mark on her. She was no longer the girlish bride she had been, but her bearing was still graceful, her face unlined, her hair as dark and her figure as slender as ever. In her simple contentment, there had been no great joys or sorrows in her life to mark her.

They exchanged news of the surrounding holds, Theolan making sure that he kept his mouth shut on the more scurrilous rumours which were unsuitable for a Lady's ears. By this time, the light was beginning to fail, and the men started to return from the fields. One, a young fair-haired man clothed, like Enriline, in subdued colours, joined them at the table.

"Falren, this is Journeyman Theolan, the Hold's visiting harper," Enriline said, gesturing for the young man to sit. "Journeyman, this is Falren, my late husband's cousin, and named as his Heir."

"Greetings, Holder. My sympathies for your loss." Only now that a man was present did Theolan take up the leather satchel, still dusty from his ride, open it and draw out the documents inside. "I bring better news, however. Lord Ziadriel has confirmed you as your cousin's successor and the new Holder of Cathoran Hold, and I bring you all the necessary documents."

Falren grinned, though he'd not expected otherwise. "Thank you, Harper. You're welcome to stay as long as you wish, of course."

"My thanks." The harper bowed. "I expect the children of the hold are due their lesson, so I'll take you up on that offer if I may. Now, I understand your letter mentioned a will?"

"Yes, Journeyman. Faymar mentioned it to me after he had it drawn up at the Harper Hall several Turns ago. It's been kept untouched in his study," Falren explained. "I think it contains a few small legacies - something for his Steward and Headwoman, for other family members, and of course, for Lady Enriline. We asked for a harper to read it as is proper - not that I foresee any problems. I intend to keep my cousin's Steward and Headwoman in their posts, and this Hold will always be a home to you, milady," he said, inclining his head respectfully towards Enriline.

Enriline murmured her thanks. She was probably too old to marry again, barren as she seemed to be, and there was little to draw her back to her father's hold. A peaceful retirement at Cathoran Hold might not be all she had dreamed of, but it would be pleasant enough.

"Well, I suggest we have a good dinner and then read the will afterwards, with the holders as witnesses," Theolan suggested cheerfully. A thin man, he had an appetite to match that of the hungriest fieldhand after a long day's work.

***

Faymar had left his wife all of her personal possessions - clothing, jewellery, and marks enough for a decent dowry should she ever marry again. Though Enriline trusted in Falren's honour, she was grateful for the bequest. Under the new laws created by Lord Ziadriel, a wife could hold no property - it all belonged to her husband. If not for the will, she would have been at risk of being left with nothing.

As Theolan read the rest of the will, she was hard pressed to maintain her dignified expression and not give in to tears. She might not have loved Faymar as a husband, but she was touched by his thoughtfulness. While alive, he'd been kind but distant, and she'd wondered if he cared much about her at all. This surely proved that he had.

"And I confirm my dear friend and companion Havra..."

Theolan's voice, usually pleasantly smooth as befitted a trained harper, faltered slightly. At first Enriline thought he'd lost his place, but when she looked up she met his gaze for a moment before he looked away. It was almost as if he was embarrassed to look at her...

"Ah...he confirms her in the ownership of the cot she has lived in for nineteen Turns since the death of her husband." There was silence for a moment, before the harper managed to recover his composure. "That's all, apart from the signatures of the late holder and his witnesses. Does anyone here have any objections to the terms of the will?"

No-one spoke, but Enriline was puzzled to find that many of the holders were looking at her - some with sympathy, and some openly curious or even amused. Who was Havra? She'd never heard Faymar speak of any such person. How could she not have heard of a woman her husband held in enough esteem to leave a cothold to in his will?

Last updated on the August 27th 2005

Welcome to Triad Weyrs!

Shamed (1/2)