"Time´s End (Chapter 7)" by Nicoline Badenhorst

Chapter VII

Iand and Robin sat at the fire in companionable silence, enjoying the balmy evening. “I’m not pretending I understand even half of what’s transpired...” Iand began weakly.

Robin’s formerly only thoughtful face had darkened. At last, he sighed. “Well, I guess, sooner or later this would have had to happen... sooner rather than later with this bone-headed priest around... no brains to salvage with him. But I think I owe you an explanation on the princess’ behalf.”

Iand quickly interceded. “I don’t know if I want one. All this... nonsense about magic didn’t belong in my life before I landed here, and I don’t want it in my life now.”

Robin grinned ghoulishly. “You’ve no choice in that matter any longer, I fear. You do seem to be an intelligent man, and as such, you ought to be open-minded about everything and everyone. Anyhow, the moment you decided to go along on this hideously insane trip, you also decided unknowingly for magic.”

“No, I didn’t,” Iand protested.

“Yes, because this whole undertaking is about magic. Either you accept this or you turn back, and turning back couldn’t possibly be an option for you. You want to learn about new things, you want to experience new ways of life, and where better to start than with a quest that’s likely to lead this group over the whole planet?”

Iand shrugged. “What else can I do except to accept your reasoning? Go on then with your tale. Tell me what’s wrong with the princess.”

“There’s nothing wrong with her. She has simply become the victim of her magic at last. It was only to be expected. No other human being before her has ever had so much power to command as she has now, and it is only a matter of time until she loses control over it. Do not take me wrong when I say that it would have been better for her -and the rest of the world- had she never been born... she was an experiment of a foolish mother and a power-hungry father, and we can thank providence every day that she yet holds sway in this fight. As it is, there remains nothing but to stand guard and wait.”

Iand asked: “So what do we do now?”

“Nothing. Wait.” Robin’s voice was flat. “See where the scale of madness is tipping to.” The consequence, Iand could imagine.

In her eternal darkness, but knowing the shadows hid her well, Mae’s breath caught in her throat, painful and bitter. Suddenly, it all made sense- Robin did not value her, neither did he care about Lanouri; he was only there to serve as guardian over royal self-control, and, ultimately, as Lanouri’s executioner. She stifled the tears of betrayal in her blankets until they became the bile of revenge. He had betrayed her in the worst possible way by making her feel valuable, as real human being, not only the freak pet of the princess, the tag-along, doting on the addictive glimpses of the world they tossed at her like morsels to a dog. Everything, a lie, a morbid comedy set up to draw out the inevitable, to postpone the inexorable decay. It was all some game, and everything and everyone she thought valuable in her life nothing but a pawn, to be used and then discarded according to some arbitrary rules of who was worthy and who insignificant.

She stilled the seething hotness in her heart. She’d show them. All of them, especially Lanouri who thought she was the only one who had a hard life. But for the moment, she could do nothing but wait for her moment, and that would come. She lapsed back to listening in on Robin and Iand’s conversation.

“...well, there is a significant difference. At castle Marin, those you call servants are free- should they ever wish to change their profession, they are not only free to do so, but also will be supported by the queen and her council, whereas these servants of the Temples have no say in the matter. They are, as a matter of definition, if not fact, slaves, for they have been commanded by the Master to serve and though they do receive sold, they are not free to leave. They are not even free to do as they please. Day and night, whenever their masters wish for their services, they have to be available.”

“So why have they not yet risen against these masters, being so enslaved?”

“That, my friend is a question that has many answers. Some have been coerced, others threatened. Some have come for money and a warm bed at night, others out of a sense of undue loyalty to tyrants. Some just have never thought that there might be another choice. I do suppose that this life, compared to others in the Confederation, might not be the worst.

“Freedom is a great word, but it is quickly relinquished for food and fire. It nourishes the soul, but can kill the body in many ways, and it is a notion only for those who can afford it. Still, it is a cherished notion, for man cannot live without hope and freedom, and the princess knows this. She tries, as did her ancestors before her, to give her people as much freedom as is possible, even if it means that she has to enslave herself. Freedom probably is most valuable and most desirable to those who can never experience it.”

***

The ride had dried tears uncried, but the emptiness in her soul did not want to vanish. She had almost crossed a line that had been there all her life, like the border of an abyss she had learnt to dance on but never cross. It had shocked her to find how easily it could be crossed and that beyond lay not the terrors she had come to expect but freedom and choice. She felt like a little animal that, finding after years of prison that its captors had left the door open, shied from what it coveted most.

She had looked into the face of her greatest desire and had had to turn back. She felt cheated out of her cherished strength, unable to free herself of her bitter thoughts, giving others the blame for her own weakness, unable to face reality, but seeing it none-the-less. This knowledge made her violent, yearning for a fight to the blood, but knowing that she could only loose.

Trapped! She was trapped, in not only this body and this mind, but also in a life she had never wanted. No sense, she tried to remind herself, -no sense in trying to change the unchangeable, no sense in mourning for unreachable things- but no matter how often she repeated the words, they did not provide the strength she needed. Nothing could, for she had lost the well of her strength and could not find it again.

It had become pitch dark, but she did not care. The heat of the day left the earth in waves so intense she could almost see them. Later on, it would become as scorchingly cold as the day had been hot, but what would it matter?

It was easy to find her way back to the camp, even in the dark. Another of her talents, she reflected bitterly. It wasn’t always the burden others made it out to be. Had she wanted to, the night could have become as light as the sun for her, but today, she preferred the dark, velvety cover that reflected her soul.

Long before she saw the camp with her eyes, she knew that Robin had come. Before he could turn around and greet her, much less help her unsaddle, she said as calmly as she could: “Leave me in peace,” and with some delay: “Please.”

Robin only shrugged. “Good night.”

***

Before they had a chance to talk to her, Lanouri was up and off, leaving it to Iand and Robin to break off camp and follow with the others. Once they were well on the road, Dern rode up to them.

“Don’t begrudge her the time to herself. I’ve seen this behaviour often in young priests. They have to come to terms with themselves- readjust the image they have made of themselves.”

“Don’t you think that twenty-three years is more than enough to ‘come to terms with herself’?” Robin asked, unusually spiteful.

“Not if she only ever perceived her power as something abstract- not really a part of her identity. What if she only realized yesterday what the full impact of her gift is? What if she only ever perceived her gift to be an alien force and now she finds that it belongs to her, makes up an important part of her character?”

Robin shook his head. “I just don’t want to believe that.” He rode off, having enough of the conversation.

“I think you might be right. I have always felt her to be... somehow incomplete in some respects.” Iand murmured, deep in thought.

“As though there were two sides to her?” Dern grinned, which had a surprisingly softening effect on his lined face. “I think she is not so very different to the priestess Tyleen.”

“How do you know all this?”

“I watch first before I talk, and I’ve had a lot of time to watch.”

More and more, Iand found this down-to-earth servant likeable, no, more than that: Dern had the potential of a true friend.