Griffin's Daughter (47 page)

Their lovemaking was fierce, joyous, tender, magical. At the moment of climax, something happened, something near mystical in intensity; later on, when Jelena tried to put it into words, she could find none that were adequate. It felt as if her consciousness and Ashinji’s had merged, and for a time, they shared a co-mingled essence, each aware of the other’s deepest emotions. There were no words, only feelings, illuminated by the brilliant blue fire that burned at the core of Jelena’s being.

When at last the roaring flames of their passion had burned down to warmly glowing embers, they clung to each other, their faces wet with tears and sweat. They didn’t speak—they had no need for words. Their minds were now joined as securely as their bodies had been.

Eventually, they slept.

~~~

Kami and Gendan were married a week later in a solemn ceremony attended by most of the Kerala guard and quite a few of the castle’s general staff. Jelena and Ashinji held pride of place as the guests of honor, and even Lord and Lady Sakehera stopped by during the raucous celebration that followed to offer their congratulations.

Kami, who had nearly regained all of her strength, glowed with happiness. The normally gruff, taciturn Gendan brimmed with good humor, offering one toast after another to his new bride, to his comrades and friends, and to the Sakehera family.

Though outwardly all seemed joyful and festive, Jelena couldn’t help but sense the anxiety that ran beneath the surface of the celebration like a hidden current in the ocean’s depths. Five days hence, Lord Sen and most of the castle guard would leave Kerala to journey to the capital so that the King’s Council could convene. All present knew what would be discussed behind the closed doors of the council chamber.

War loomed like a storm on the horizon, and the elven nation must somehow prepare to battle for its very existence against an enemy with at least three times its strength. Much blood would be spilled in the most desperate fight the elves would face in over a thousand years.

As Captain, Gendan would ride out at the head of the Guard, but Kami would not be accompanying him to Sendai. Her recent illness and advancing pregnancy precluded her taking the long, exhausting journey. She would not even have the comfort of Aneko’s company, for as First Sergeant, Aneko was needed on the march. Jelena felt sorrow for her friend; Kami should not have to go through so much of her pregnancy separated from her husband.

With any luck, however, they would all be back home by winter’s end, and Kami could give birth with Gendan by her side, unless…

Unless the Soldarans decide to press their attack early, before the spring rains end,
Jelena thought. So much uncertainty! No wonder melancholy haunted the smiling faces all around her.

With the celebration still going strong, Ashinji and Jelena at last took their leave later that evening and retired to their tower apartment for some much needed sleep. Over the last few days, Lord Sen had kept Ashinji busy assisting with the logistics of moving the entire household. Jelena spent most of her time studying with Lady Amara, though she did deliver the occasional message.

Lord Sen had informed Jelena that she need not continue to carry messages for him.

“
I have never not worked, and I am not stopping now, just because I married your son, Father!” she announced to a bemused Lord Sen, who wryly gave in and didn’t press the issue.

The days passed quickly, and on the eve of departure, after the family had finished dinner, Sen took Jelena aside. “I’ve got something very important to tell you, my girl, something I should have told you a long time ago,” he said.

Sen wore a troubled look, and Jelena’s heart jumped nervously in her chest. “What is it, Father?” she whispered. “You look so serious. Should I be worried?”

Sen patted her hand reassuringly. “It’s about your father. I think I know who he is.”

Jelena gasped, then frowned. “You think? Then that means you are not sure,” she responded. Eagerly, she searched his face, looking for some clue that her father-in-law did, indeed, have the information she so desperately wanted.

Sen sighed and shook his head. “No…no, I’ll not dance around it. I’m sure, though I wish I’d found a different answer,” he replied. Jelena sat very still, her eyes locked onto his. “You see, my dear,” he continued, “your sire is…well, let’s just say that things will become very complicated for him when your existence is revealed.”

“
My father is of a noble family, then, but one which won’t accept a hikui as one of their own. Am I right?”

“
Partly so, yes. But there is much more to it than that.” Sen leaned in close and the intensity of his expression stopped Jelena’s breath. “Jelena, when my son announced his intentions to marry you, well…you know I was not thrilled, and I feel shame even now when I think back on the things I said. I’m just an old soldier and a farmer, a simple man who’s struggled to rid himself of old notions. But even old dogs can change. I’ve come to love you as if you were my own blood. I want you to always consider me your father, no matter what happens with your own sire.”

“
Now, I am worried, Father,” Jelena murmured.

“
When you showed me your ring, I recognized it immediately, but I couldn’t tell you the truth about it then. I knew nothing about you. You might have been out to deliberately deceive, or you, yourself may have been deceived. I couldn’t take the risk until I had observed you and could find out for myself just what you were about.

“
Then, you proved yourself to me beyond all doubt by bravely risking your life to save mine. Still, I’m ashamed to admit, I held back…not because of you, but because of the difficulties I knew would occur once your father and his family found out about you.”

Jelena bowed her head and clasped her hands tightly together to keep them from shaking.

Why am I so upset? I knew this could happen.

She made a decision. “If knowing of my existence will cause so much trouble, then perhaps it’s best that my real father never find out about me,” she said, raising her head and meeting Sen’s gaze firmly. “I have found everything I have ever wanted right here in Kerala. You are all my family now. I do not need any other.”

“
Jelena, my dear, that might be easiest for everyone, but I’ve given it a great deal of thought. Your sire has a right to know that he has a daughter. He’s unmarried, you see, with no other children.”

“
I know that I cannot inherit any of my father’s titles or lands because I am hikui,” Jelena stated. “I am no threat to the rest of his family, or to any future heirs he might have.”

“
That’s true, under ordinary circumstances, but your father is no ordinary man. He could change the law if it suited him to make you his Heir,” Sen responded.

Jelena’s eyes widened in bewilderment. “Who is this man?” she asked. “Tell me his name!”

Sen paused, as if, even now he were plagued with doubts. Finally, he spoke. “Your father is Keizo Onjara, King of Alasiri.”

In a dusty chamber high atop a semi-abandoned tower, a midwife delivered a baby from its dying mother’s body. She cut the cord and wrapped the newborn girl—wrinkled, red, and capped with a thin shock of dark curls—in an old wool blanket. The old woman who had struggled to save both mother and child held the baby close, tears running in rivulets down her lined cheeks. She had failed.

“
My poor, Dru…my poor little Dru!” the woman sobbed quietly.

The dying woman—barely out of girlhood, really—stirred and cried out weakly. “My baby… Where is my baby?”

“
Here’s yer sweet little babe, my lamb… a beautiful little girl,” the old woman crooned, laying the whimpering infant next to her mother. Weakened from blood loss, the new mother could do little but gaze at her child. It would have been clear to anyone witnessing the sad tableau that her love burned fierce and hot for the daughter she would never know beyond these last few moments of her life.

“
Claudia,” the young woman whispered.

“
Yes, my lamb,” the old woman answered.

“
I want to name her Jelena…I’ve always loved that name.”

“
Jelena…Weren’t that a name of an ancient queen? From one o’ those old stories you an’ yer brother loved so much?”

The dying girl nodded weakly. “Promise you’ll look after her, Claudia, because no one else will. Promise you’ll not let them hurt her because…because of what she is.”

“
I promise,” Claudia sobbed.

“
Promise…you…you’ll keep the ring…safe until…” The girl’s voice trailed off and her eyes fluttered closed.

“
Dru?...Drucilla?” Claudia leaned close and peered into the girl’s waxen face. She could already feel the cold presence of Lady Death, come to gather her precious Drucilla up into her cloak of blackest velvet and carry her away on silent wings to Heaven.

Drucilla stirred and opened her eyes, but they focused now on something beyond the living world.

“
I swear I’ll keep th’ ring what belonged to yer baby’s dad, and give it to her when she’s ready fer it.” Claudia kissed Drucilla’s cold forehead. “Rest now, my lamb. Go to sleep,” she murmured. Gathering the baby up into her arms, she sat in the room’s only chair to wait.

She did not have to wait long, and when it was over, she placed the baby in an old laundry basket and set about the task of preparing the young mother for her grave.

When she had finished, she gathered up all of the soiled linen and picked up the newborn in her basket. She took one last look at the shrouded form upon the bed, then exited the room, pulling the heavy oak door closed behind her. She negotiated the narrow tower stairs with caution, fearful that one misstep could send her and the baby tumbling to serious injury or worse.

At the bottom, Claudia breathed a sigh of relief.
So many things to take care of now
, she thought. The duke must be told, and a wet nurse found for the child. She recalled a kitchen maid who had just lost a baby not more than three days ago.
P’rhaps she can be persuaded.
She set the laundry basket down and rubbed the small of her back in an attempt to ease the pain that plagued her. The baby began to wail.

“
Oh, poor little lamb! Yer hungry, o’course, and with no mam t’feed ye,” she said. “Well, let’s get a move on, then. C’mon Claudia, old girl. You’ve got work t’do!” She hoisted up her burdens and headed for the castle kitchens.

~~~

Later that evening, Claudia lay in bed, the sleeping baby tucked in a makeshift cradle alongside. The duke, not surprisingly, had expressed no desire to have anything to do with the child, commanding Claudia to take it away and keep it with her, in the servants’ hall. Claudia was only too happy to obey. The kitchen maid who had lost her own baby balked at first but eventually allowed herself to be persuaded by the ten copper a week fee—double the usual charge—that Claudia agreed to pay her. Claudia could have used that extra money for other things, but she had no alternative.

She gazed down at the baby, sleeping peacefully on a full stomach. On impulse, she got up and went to open the wooden chest at the foot of her bed. She reached in and removed Drucilla’s ring from its hiding place at the very bottom. She held the ring up to catch the light of the room’s single oil lamp and examined it thoughtfully for a while before returning it to the bottom of the chest.

The baby awoke and began to fuss. Claudia scooped the infant up and cradled her against her large, soft breasts. Instinctively, the child began to suck.

“
You’ll get nothin’ from these old tits, little one,” she said, rocking the baby gently back and forth. She traced the shape of one tiny, pointed ear with a fingertip. A sudden, fierce determination swept through her. “I promised yer mam I’d protect you from folks’ abusin’ you ‘cause of what you are, and by the gods, I’m going t’ do my best. And when yer old enough, I’ll give you yer dad’s ring and maybe, just maybe, you can find him.”

Claudia kissed the baby’s forehead and rocked her until she drifted off to sleep again. 

Leslie Ann Moore has been a storyteller since childhood. A native of Los Angeles, she received a doctorate in Veterinary Medicine from the University of California. She lives and works in Los Angeles, and in her spare time she practices the art of belly dancing. Griffin’s Daughter is her first novel.