The Angst and The Analyst II

THE ANGST AND THE ANALYST

From the Journals and Papers of Dr. MorningGlory Gaeston

(Rated PG-13: Adult themes, mild language, mild violence, brief nudity)

CHAPTER II

I arose from my desk as Charona escorted Anomen Delryn into my office.

He was striking. Tall by Faerun standards, he carried himself in a manner that suggested both his military discipline and his noble bearing. Spine perfectly straight, shoulders back, head up. Yes, that military stance would be with him until his dying day. Yet, he was not heavy-of-foot as most soldiers were. As he moved across the room, he exhibited fluid, deliberate movement and it struck me he was actually quite graceful and agile. I mentally recalled his Academy records and his instructors’ observations of his marked agility and dexterity when practicing his weaponry techniques. One had written, “…if there is such a thing as artistry in wielding a mace, young Delryn has achieved it….” Yes, these were natural talents, not conditioned responses provided by the drill instructors. But for all this innate grace, he still maintained this rugged aura about him. This man is an enigma, I thought.

He was dressed in a deep forest green tunic made of fine-gauge heavy velvet trimmed with delicate gold piping. The ornate side sash bearing the colors and a hand-sewn crest of the Noble House of Delryn was conspicuously absent. The ornate, abbreviated coat-of-arms would normally be suspended from his golden corded belt and would communicate to all of Amn his noble heritage and the recognition accorded such. But his was missing.

The only physical characteristic that seemed to belie his noble birth was his close-cropped, dark chestnut brown beard. It covered his strong jaw line and ringed a very sensuous mouth with full lips. Beards were not currently in favor with the gentry of Amn, and with his dark brown, slightly longer, not-quite-curly-but-more-than-wavy hair, he didn’t ascribe to the gentry’s current hairstyles either. For a young man, his forehead was already imprinted with faintly etched lines of worry. Were these a product of his problems over the past few years, or serious contemplation – or both, I silently asked myself. His deep blue-green eyes were perfectly shaped, somewhat recessed, and weighted with thick dark brown lashes.

His body was perfectly muscled and the faint jagged scar lines from long-ago battles were sprinkled on his sun-darkened arms and legs. The true medals garnered in the service of Helm, I thought ironically. As he neared, my attention was drawn to another light, fine line across his sculpted aristocratic nose, undoubtedly the constant reminder of an enemy blade’s near miss of death.

The man standing before me bore the record of bygone battles with the enemies of Helm -- and the Order -- and others he had met along the road there and back. He was a walking testament to what was once his unyielding belief in duty and service. He was no coward and I was duly impressed.

“Anomen Delryn. I am Dr. MorningGlory Gaeston and it is a pleasure to be of service to you and the Great Watcher Helm.” I briefly and reverently bowed my head at the mention of the God’s name.

“And, you, dear Madam, are very kind to extend your divinely-guided assistance to this humble servant of Helm.” And with that, he carefully took my hand and briefly brushed it against his lips. The beard brushed as well and, well, actually tickled. The formal introductions were concluded, tickle and all.

“Won’t you please make yourself comfortable?” I motioned Anomen to the overstuffed chair directly in front of my desk and he sat down. It wasn’t the best chair for sitting upright, back straight, but it wasn’t suppose to be. It was designed to relax the patient. And, Delryn looked incredibly uncomfortable trying to balance himself between his perfect posture and the sloping back of the chair. But in this battle, I was confident the chair would win – eventually.

“Would you care for a beverage before we begin?” I offered.

“No thank you, Madam,” he managed a small polite smile. “It is very kind of you to offer.” He wasn’t ready to avail himself of any hospitality, yet, I thought. He was going to be ‘all business’ here in the beginning and it was going to take a contrived effort on my part to get him to relax. After all, he couldn’t begin to trust me until he relaxed around me. And I couldn’t begin to help him until he trusted me.

“Sometimes these sessions can become drawn-out and a little refreshment is a nice respite. Should you change your mind later, please do let me know. Charona would be happy to get us something.” I returned his polite smile and waved to Charona. She briefly nodded in acknowledgement and shut the door behind her.

“Before we begin,” I started, “I would like to introduce you to Ki. In case you are unfamiliar with Kirani birds, Ki has the ability to--”

“Madam, I am very familiar with Kirani birds,” he interrupted me softly. Someone else would have thought him rude, but I could see the slight anxiety he displayed. He was anxious to get the ‘incidentals’ out of the way. He then realized his unintentional breach of good manners and lowered his head. “We, uh.., a few years ago a few of Helm’s faithful were called to assist in driving back a band of pirates intent upon relieving the Monks of their precious charges. It was a…a… successful campaign, albeit short-lived.” He raised his head and glanced quickly around the remainder of my office. I could see he was ‘evaluating’ the setting from a strategic point of view. Another military discipline he would not be able to shed so easily as time went on.

“Then you are familiar with our practice of recording sessions?”

“Yes, Madam,” he nodded.

I had to always make that disclosure with a new patient. To me, it was awkward beginning our first session by telling them that their innermost thoughts, fears, and, hopefully, healing revelations were going to be recorded, totally scrutinized, and finally dissected. But it was part of the Rules of Ethical Conduct, and I was required to inform them in very plain language so there was no misunderstanding at a future date. It was so cold and clinical --considering the scope of some of the troubles individuals brought into my office. I felt it didn’t exactly inspire an immediate wellspring of trust and rapport on the patient’s part, either.

“May I call you Anomen?” I quickly interjected hoping to get us past this hurdle. “Or, if you prefer—“
He looked up at me.

“No, Madam,” he interrupted me. “’Anomen’ is fine.” His voice trailed off.

“Very well, and please call me Glory,” I paused momentarily and shifted my voice to a softer, less-formal tone. “Madam is much too formal and I am honestly unaccustomed to being called ‘Doctor.’”

His first honest smile. Not a big one, but a start. I took advantage of that tiny inroad.

“Why have the elders of the Church of Helm sent you to see me, Anomen?”

“Because, Glor..,Glory,“ he stumbled over my name, hesitated briefly and then looked straight at me.

“I have a black heart…., I was born with it……, and the High Watchers of Helm refuse to believe it.” He drew out the words and the syllables very clearly and distinctly. He then looked down at his hands in his lap, his choked whisper barely audible, “They believe I can be redeemed.”

His shockingly dark pronouncement caught me completely off guard. For the first time in my four years of practice, I was speechless. I paused, inhaled, then leaned toward him.

“Anomen…..do you believe you can be redeemed?” I asked softly.

The saddest blue-green eyes in all of Faerun answered me with not a spoken word.

No. This fighter, this survivor did not believe himself worthy of any redemption. In his mind, he was a demon from the Abyss who had come forth and committed the most heinous crimes ever recorded in all of Faerun for all time. His eyes told it all.

We had opened our first session.

Our time ran for a full hour over and above the allotted hour originally scheduled. This was not a problem, as my only other patient of the day, Jakell, a fairly prominent merchant from Trademeet, wasn’t scheduled until mid-afternoon. He was a compulsive thief as well as being a very shrewd businessman. It was a deadly combination, however, and the Mayor of Trademeet had insisted he obtain professional counseling for the thieving part of his personality, or go to prison for two years – his choice. As a precaution, I reminded Charona to lock up the Scroll Cabinet and the potion samples. He was making progress, but an overall change in psyche was still in the far off distance. He wasn’t due for a couple of hours so I had time to ponder some of my immediate impressions derived from the session with Delryn while fresh on my mind.

I reviewed my quick notes. It was not necessarily a productive session – most first sessions aren’t. He had stonewalled any further discussion of his ‘black heart’ and ‘status of non-redemption.’ In his mind, these statements were irrefutable facts and there was no need to revisit them. We talked mostly about his years at the Academy. I was regaled with stories of his growing up, some of his boyish pranks, life in general with nothing but a host of Clerics intent on molding young minds and bodies into the service of Helm. Then came the brief litany of conflicts and campaigns fought in the name of Helm – in some cases, complete with hastily sketched battle strategies. He was very animated in recounting his charges into battle, weapon drawn, and the carnage inflicted on the enemy. The bloody recollections had made me queasy but I listened intently. Now I know why I’m not a soldier, I had thought to myself. But whether he was willing to admit it or not, he was a very proud soldier and even now took pride in the re-telling of his personal victories and his contributions of aid to others on the fields of conquest.

I did not ask him any direct questions about his immediate family and he made no reference to his father, mother, or sister. He offered no response to any casual reference I made to family in general. This would all come later, I told myself. I reminded myself of something my professional mentor had told me when I first graduated Academy.

“In removing a thorn, one must not directly ‘poke’ at it thus risking driving it deeper into the flesh – instead, loosen it from the sides in the hope it will become dislodged and then be easily extracted, ” he had said.

‘Silly old man,’ I thought at the time. ‘What does that have to do with me? What in nine-hells does that have to do with me?!’ Over time I learned exactly what he meant and the wisdom of the thorn was never more applicable than it was now to Delryn’s case. Yes, Anomen’s many ‘thorns’ were imbedded deeply within his heart and were slowly poisoning his soul. It was going to take a great deal of ‘loosening’ to get them above the surface where he could recognize them and remove them. One by one, it was going to be excruciatingly painful. By the Gods, this would be the hardest battle this young man had ever faced! I said a silent prayer that he would be victorious because anything less would result in self-destruction.

I put down my quill and rubbed my eyes. For an instant I entertained the idea of a short nap on the lounge across the room against the wall. I quickly dismissed that when I heard voices in the outer office. I caught the scent of baron elk stew wafting in the air as I looked up and saw Hendak standing in the doorway with a covered bowl in his hand. His broad smile instantly warmed my heart.

“My love..,” he began. “It is not good for you to ignore the noon meal, so I decided to bring sustenance to you.” He walked slowly toward me and lowered his voice, “That is, if you will allow your lover and humble servant to join you in this most ordinary repast.”

Without waiting for an answer, he sat the bowl down and rounded my desk. I could see a glint of seduction in his cool gray eyes. We came face to face and his strong arms enfolded me and the sheer power of his nearness radiated a primal energy through me. I instantly melted into him and he pulled me closer. Through the thin silk of my dress I could feel his warm hands deftly seeking out and caressing the small sensitive places in my lower back. I closed my eyes, sublimely content to be momentarily freed from the world and drawn into this man’s liberating passion. I could feel his breathing as his lips brushed my hair and for a moment we stood completely still, completely rapt in our oneness of spirit. He then bent his head and kissed me gently just below my ear.

“My MorningGlory, my life…, my love……,” he whispered.

Then our lips met. He was suddenly wanting, needing, and urgent, and his deep lingering kiss left me breathless. I could say nothing.

“Ah, my love…,”he breathed in my ear. “If Charona were not here, there would be much more to this repast than just food… And, I can promise you, it would not be brief or ordinary…. even by Sune’s standards,” His lips found my earlobe. “But this evening, my love, I will make full amends, I do swear by all that is holy.” He kissed me again. I wished I could think of a very long errand for Charona. Evening seemed an eternity away and far too long to wait for this man. He pulled back gently but reluctantly.

“I love you, Hendak, with-no-last-name,” I smiled, sighed, and resigned myself to the delay of total abandon until evening. But it didn’t stop me from being momentarily absorbed in his closeness. I stared up into his face. There were so many things reflected in those beautiful gray eyes. I could almost see our world together. Not just of physical want, but of loving, of caring, of sharing our life together.

“Charona, plates and utensils, please,” he called,” and if you would please do so, fetch us something cold to drink from the Veils. And one for you, too.”

“Yes, Master,” she replied enthusiastically and within a few moments we had plates and she was out the door on her quest for beverages.

“And do not call me Master!” he shouted after her.

The afternoon went by quickly. We ate, Hendak returned to the Coronet, and Charona had the pouches returned to the Church and the Order. Jakell seemed to be making real progress and our session seemed to be more beneficial than usual. A cursory check of the premises after his departure showed nothing missing.

I was then able to return to my notes on Delryn. He would be returning in two days for another session and I wanted to prepare while his visit was fresh on my mind. Ki was busy reproducing the sounds of a lovely piece of music. I turned in my chair to face him and he stopped.

“Ki, did Delryn even mention his family once?”

“No, Mistress. Not once of his own offering and you did not directly inquire.”

“And what was his overall reaction when I mentioned his family?” I began scribbling.

“When you mentioned the family as a whole, there was a slight, momentary increase in breathing,” said Ki. Yes, Anomen was discomforted at the mention of his family.

“Was there any precipitous changes recorded from any mention of any particular family member?” I continued.

“Yes, Mistress. Inaudible sighs at the mention of the Mother and the Sister, respectively, a total void of muscle control in the face, slight change in posture resulting in minute sagging of the shoulders.” Abject sadness?

“And the Father?”

“Yes Mistress. A clinching of the jaw – barely discernable through that shaggy hair on his face, I might add. I also noted a brief dilation of the pupils, an interruption of eye movement, and a subtle constriction of the muscles in the neck. Breathing controlled but slightly forced, a faint flush of the skin due to elevation in blood pressure.” Accelerated anxiety, intense dislike bordering on possible hatred for the Father? Many ‘thorns,’ I thought.

Ki was patiently silent awaiting more inquiries.

“Thank you, Ki, you may continue your melody. It is quite lovely.”

“Thank you, Mistress.” And with that he resumed conducting his perfectly tuned orchestra, or in this case, ‘one-bird band’.

The evening was everything Hendak had vowed it would be. We had evening meal in our suite specially prepared by Cook. We drank rare sparkling wine from the vineyards in the Cloud Mountains’ foothills, and feasted on choclatl soufflé for dessert. A harpist and a flutist played continuously in the background.

It was not terribly late, but the last of the soufflé was gone and Hendak refilled my crystal glass. He motioned for the musicians to leave and they quietly left the room shutting the door behind. I was comfortably nestled in the silk cushions around our supper table and the wine dancing in my head was replaying the beautiful music of a few moments earlier. We were at last alone together.

Hendak moved next to me and pulled me up to sit beside him and cradled me in his arms. The closeness and the quiet were surreal. He tipped my chin to see my face and gently brushed a wisp of hair from my cheek.

“My love,” he began. ”I want us to forever be as one. I want to pledge my devotion and love to you and I pray you to pledge your love and devotion to me. I want you to be the Mother of our children,” he paused. “MorningGlory, I want you to be my wife, and I will be your husband and your most devoted and humble servant.” He paused again. “Will you marry me?”

I looked up into the most beautiful eyes in Faerun.
“Yes, Hendak, I will be most proud to be your wife, to love you, to be devoted to you, and bear our children,” I answered without hesitation.

He pulled a small box from his tunic and opened it. Inside was the most opulent ring I had ever seen. It was ornately carved gold. Six small pearls were set upon the face of it surrounding a bright, perfectly white diamond. It was breathtaking.

“Will you accept this ring as a token of my pledge of eternal love that we will be together for all of time?” he asked.

“It’s beautiful, Hendak, and yes, I will accept your ring and your pledge.”

He took the ring and slipped it on my finger. It was a perfect fit. But as I stared down at it on my finger, I thought I saw a brief, iridescent glow radiating from it. I blinked. No, no glow, just too much sparkling wine.

“Hendak, wherever did you find such a magnificent ring?” I asked.

“I think it may have been my Mother’s. I have always had it – like the amulet -- and even when the slavers would take it away from me, I would wake up the next morning and it would be back in my possession. They sent many women to try to take it from me, too, and it would char their hand to cinder for their thievery.” He picked up my hand and smiled. “I have always believed it was meant for my love, my wife, and no one else.” He paused. “And seeing that your hand has not erupted in flames, I see I was right,” he laughed.

“Hendak, do you remember your Mother?”

He shook his head. “Only my father and then very little before he was killed and I was taken by the slavers. There was no one else – we lived in the deep forest.” He seemed suddenly very sad at his memories, or lack thereof.

“I’m sorry, my love. I did not mean to make you sad on this our day of betrothal,” I said and kissed him longingly. I wanted him to forget the sadness. I suddenly found all I wanted him to do was to fulfill the balance of his promise earlier in the day. I was suddenly overwhelmed with the most intense, all-consuming, burning desire for him. Desire filled with wanting him, needing him -- more than ever before. There was not a force in all of Faerun to stop me from sating my need born from this man’s passion.

I was too tired not to sleep. All of Amn could have fallen stone by stone around me and it would not have disturbed me. But I awoke in the middle of the night from a deep sound sleep to find Hendak sitting upright in bed. “Lamp on, low,” I mumbled to activate the magical lamp stones into service. A soft, dawn-like light filled the bedchamber. Hendak was covered in a soft sheen of sweat, his hair lightly matted to his forehead.

“Another bad dream, my love?” I asked softly as I sat up beside him. He shook his head.

“No, my love,” he whispered softly. “Not a bad dream.” He paused for a long time. “I dreamed about my Mother.” There was stone silence.

He said no more but laid down and took me in his arms next to him. His damp skin smelled strangely like sweet honey flowers. His heartbeat was steady and strong. I lay waiting and hoping he might provide more explanation. He did not.

“Time to sleep, my love,” he murmured. “Lights out.” The stones switched off and within minutes I could hear his steady regular breathing as he drifted into some distant dreamland of peace and calm. His peace was heavens-sent. There would be time enough later to talk of his dream.

The next morning whirled past me. Luckily I had no patients scheduled for the day. But Charona was in classes all day and wouldn’t be in. Messengers with congratulatory flowers and greetings of best wishes arrived. Father even dropped in my office to convey his relief that I was finally getting married, but he couldn’t keep himself from expressing “concern” about my selection of a future spouse.

“But, an ex-slave, Glory!” he had said three years ago when I told him I was moving into the Copper Coronet. The word ‘ex-slave’ seemed to get caught in his throat. “And the Copper Coronet – that den of thieves and smugglers! I’m glad your Mother is not alive to see this…” I remember him saying. Hendak’s acceptance by my Father was, in all probability, going to take a couple of lifetimes. Any genuine affection would require eternity.

“Now, Father, we have been over this time and time again,” I now reminded him again.

“As long as he makes you deliriously happy, my darling Daughter,” he resigned himself with a sigh, kissed me on the cheek, and whisked out of the room through his dimension door.

It had calmed down by early afternoon and I began to work with Ki transcribing my Anomen Delryn session. It was necessary to do this today as Delryn would be in tomorrow. As Ki recalled the session, I took notes, interjected questions and made cross-references. An interesting profile was emerging. I sat back and looked at my finished outline. Yes, it was here in black and white and tomorrow we were going to start loosening those poisonous gray thorns from this man’s heart. Helping Anomen Delryn regain his soul was going to be my Quest. I tucked the notes into his folder and set it to the side of my desk and turned to look out my window.

I had spent all afternoon working on Delryn. Another hour and dusk would be settling over the Promenade. It was time to lock away the anguish of tortured souls, and resume my own life with my love and now husband-to-be. I stared down at my beautiful ring. I must remember to ask Father to take a closer look at it, I thought in passing.

A small engagement party had been planned at the Coronet and I hoped it did not last until the wee hours. Most of the invitees wouldn’t relish being in the Slums late at night anyway, so I was fairly assured it would be over at a reasonable hour.

I came into the Coronet and headed up the stairs. I had sent word earlier for Donia, my chambermaid, to lay out my palest pink silk dress. Donia was wonderful. Not only was my dress draped over the bed, but fresh slippers and stockings. She had thoughtfully laid out my hairbrushes and combs on the dressing table and had pulled the gold and mithril woven threads from the drawer to be included in the re-braiding of my long black hair. I hastily stripped down and sat down at the dressing table.

“Mistress, are you ready for me to do your hair?” Donia was at the door.

“Would you, Donia?” I was anxious to get dressed and downstairs to greet arriving guests. Pink rouge on the cheeks, a splash of darker pink on the lips. All was done in short order and I was transformed. “Thank you, Donia.” I gave her a quick kiss on the cheek. She looked surprised.

“Yes, uh, Mistress..,” she replied as I sped out the door and down the back stairs. Granted, the Coronet wasn’t exactly what I had in mind as a little girl playing princess bride, with the parties, etc. But Father would throw a formal engagement party that would be fitting of a princess. I would have to admit that a bit of his snobbery ran in my veins as well. This was just a warm-up, I told myself. I took a deep breath, composed myself, and walked through the side door.

A sea of faces and spontaneous applause greeted me. Hendak walked up beside me and slipped his arm around my waist. Bernard clanged on a pot lid with a wooden spoon to render the room quiet that Hendak could be heard. I was totally awed and overwhelmed. I was heady and giddy, and I hardly heard a word Hendak said. I vaguely remember “….the love we share….pledged together for all time…..an unworthy slave such as me……hope for the future…..” I didn’t remember him ever being so verbose!

Finally he was finished and a loud roar arose from the crowd. Whatever he had said, the crowd certainly, and wholeheartedly, supported him and agreed! The music started and the party began.

The guests were jovial and in good spirits and I saw many people I had not seen in many weeks and even months.

It was my Father who, surprisingly, provided the most interesting moments of the evening. Midway through the party, Father approached with a very distinguished gentleman whom I did not know. One thing was certain. He was a Knight of the Order of the Radiant Heart.

“MorningGlory, there is someone I wish for you to meet,” Father said and turned to his guest.

“Sir Ryan Trawl, I would be most pleased to introduce my daughter, Dr. MorningGlory Gaeston. As you know, she is now betrothed to an ex-slave with no known heritage, and she plans to continue her practice in order to supplement their income from the uh.., uh.., Copper Coronet.” His words were slightly slurred from being over served copious amounts of his favorite red wine. Not content with leaving well enough alone, he always dressed it up with an infusion of ‘fizz,’ which usually ended up with a noxious, and obnoxious, effect.

“FATHER!” I was in total disbelief of his churlish manners. I turned to Sir Ryan. “I hope you will forgive my Father’s bad temper which I am sure is brought on by too much wine consumed in such a short period of time. As a wizard, his consumptive tolerance is quite low, I fear.”

Sir Ryan threw back his head and laughed heartily.

“My Lady, your Father and I go far back together. I can assure you that no one knows that better than I.” He then took my hand, kissed it very gently and continued. “But his drunken outburst aside, I would be remiss if I did not wish the lovely bride-to-be my sincerest and best wishes.”

“Thank you Sir Ryan. That is so very kind and understanding of you.” I shot Father ‘the look’. It told him we would speak of this later.

“Darling Daughter,” he interjected sheepishly having some realization of what he had just done, ”would you be so kind to entertain Sir Ryan for a moment until I can secure fresh wine for us? I do believe this glass has no more fizz.”

Without awaiting an answer, he headed in the direction of Bernard.

“Dr. Gaeston—“ Sir Ryan began and I interrupted him.

“Sir Ryan, please call me Glory.”

“Glory. Very well, Glory.” He paused. Again that ‘familiarity’ thing making someone uncomfortable. “I was wondering if I could possibly drop by your office in the next day or two that we might have a chat.” He averted my eyes and busied himself watching the other revellers while awaiting my response.

By the Gods! He knows I have his note about Delryn tucked away in my top desk drawer, I thought. He HAS to know! Why else would he want to see me?!? Why did I act so impetuously and keep the damn thing! It HAD to be that. That DAMN NOTE…that DAMN NOTE….He knows I took it, he wants it back, -- By the Gods, what was I going to do!! Anything but panic, I told myself. I had to tell myself to breath.

“Of course, Sir Ryan,” I smiled sweetly. “Would day after tomorrow be suitable? Say, mid-morning? I could be free for the balance of the morning should you need that much time.”

“I trust this would not be an inconvenience, and I would certainly compensate you for your time. You could treat me as you would, say.., any of your other patients?” He looked at me.

“Sir Ryan, it is not an inconvenience for me and I would be happy to assist you in any way possible.” I was confused and it wasn’t the wine. Was he seeking professional counseling or did he want the damn note back? Damnable note, anyway. He continued.

“I….I…wish to speak to you regarding a former Squire of the Order. He failed his Test of Passage for Knighthood almost three years ago and was ultimately expelled. Even though it is a closed matter as far as the Order is officially concerned, I feel there are still many –shall we say—unresolved issues with regard to the young man.”

I was dumbfounded. Totally dumbfounded. Sir Ryan Trawl wanted to come and see me and talk about Anomen Delryn. But what about? What was it he knew that wasn’t in the official records? Surely the Order – that pristine group of old, impotent duffers—wasn’t concealing anything. They had never been accused of a cover-up before, much less found guilty of one! Their reputation was sterling and beyond reproach.

“I am sure you are aware I am unable to discuss any of my patients, either past or present, with you, Sir Ryan.”

“Oh, yes, My Lady.” He smiled. ”I was not suggesting that your compromise any of your patients’ privileges. I believe in the sanctity of the doctor/patient privilege, and I trust you would hold me in that same regard should I ever become a ‘patient’ of yours.”

“Of course, Sir Ryan. Anything you would ever divulge to me in session would always be protected.”

“Then day after the ‘morrow at mid-morn, shall we say?” he confirmed the appointment.

I saw my Father jaunting back across the room with two fresh glasses of wine.

“Sir Ryan, would you be so kind to hold them and keep them from the neer-do-wells lurking about while I dance with my beautiful daughter?”

“Only if My Lady consents to a turn around the floor with an old man such as myself when you are through, Tabor, old friend.”

“I would be most honoured, Sir Ryan,” I laughed as Father gave him the glasses then led me to the dance floor.

It was a lovely dance with my Father. All my life I will remember that dance. And then, as promised, I danced with Sir Ryan Trawl.

The party ended not early, but not late. I was very tired and very happy when I nestled into bed and curled up against Hendak.

“Ah, my love, it was a lovely party, wasn’t it. And, you know, I think your Father is starting to warm up to me. Yes, I think Tabor and I will end up being steadfast friends with a little more time.”

“Maybe in a 100 years, or so, if you’re lucky,” I chuckled halfway under my breath.

“What did you say, my love?”

“Nothing, Hendak. Go to sleep. I love you, my darling.”

“Hmmm… Lights out.” And we went to sleep.

As with the previous night, I awoke from a restful deep sleep only to again find Hendak silently sitting up in bed.

“Hmmmm…Lights on low,” I mumbled. The lights activated. I sat up and rubbed my eyes.

Just as before, he was covered in a thin sheen of sweat and his hair lightly matted against his forehead. He again smelled of the sweet honey flowers. He stared straight ahead.

“Hendak, is everything alright?”

At first he didn’t answer.

“Hendak?” I was going to panic if I didn’t get an answer and now.

“Yes, my love?” he answered softly still staring straight ahead into the shadows.

“Is everything alright?”

“Yes, my love. I dreamed of my Mother again. She came to me in my dream, Glory.”

“My love, it is not unusual for the dead to appear to us in our dreams. It is the way our hearts stay in touch with them.”

“No, my love,” he paused. “My Mother is not dead.”

“But, Hendak, you said you never knew your mother, so how can you be sure it is not your mind trying to share her presence with you at such a happy time in your life?”

“No, Glory. This is no illusion of my mind.” He paused again. “She came to me last night, and she came to me tonight, in my dreams and explained everything.”

“Hendak, please think about this for a minute.” I paused briefly to carefully choose my words, “Hendak, just how can she do that without the aid of a Great Wizard’s spell or you using a dream potion?”

His beautiful gray eyes turned to me and he picked up my hands from my lap and kissed them tenderly.

“Because, my beloved, MorningGlory, my Mother is a Goddess. And I am her spawn.”



TO BE CONTINUED…….