The Angst and The Analyst V

THE ANGST AND THE ANALYST

From the Journals and Papers of Dr. MorningGlory Gaeston

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

CHAPTER V

I took a deep breath.

“Sir Ryan,” I began. “As I explained to you the other evening, the privilege of confidentiality extends to all of my patients, both past and present. I am sure you are aware Anomen Delryn is currently a patient of mine, having been referred by the Church of Helm. I can not divulge any privileged information of our sessions – even to the Watcher himself.”

“Yes, madam, I fully realize this, and I am not asking that you do. But I have knowledge of certain things – empirical knowledge, if you will – that may assist you in your treatment of young Anomen. And, please do not think I am here to interfere with your treatment, but I want you to know the facts as they were so that you might be, shall we say, ‘more informed’ in your overall approach to him.”

“I appreciate your concern, Sir Ryan, and please know that I mean no disrespect, but Lord Cor is his father of record and there is no other evidence of record disputing this. Do you have anything that would corroborate your assertion of his parentage?”

I didn’t need any written evidence. I had only to look into Sir Ryan’s blue/green eyes. Yes, if Anomen shaved his beard, there would be more than just a casual resemblance. The eyes, the jaw line, the chin, were all nearly the same. Only the hair color was a great departure. I recalled Lord Cor from a meeting a few years back. Smallish, dark eyes, -- no recollection of any similarity between Anomen and him. Sir Ryan spoke the truth and I was about to hear the explicit details of it.

“No, madam, there is nothing of record. There is only the failing memories of a few of my dearest and closest life-long friends but for some of them, the mere knowledge of what then occurred could still jeopardize them today,” he smiled sadly. “Perhaps, my Lady, if you would indulge me, I will share my – ‘our’ – story with you that you understand the circumstances.”

“’Our?’” I questioned.

“Yes, my Lady. The Lady Moirala and I.” I saw the same sparkle I had seen in Anomen’s eyes when he first spoke of Riona. There was no doubt, these men were father and son.

“I first met the Lady Moirala shortly after she and Lord Cor were wed. I had just come from the Academy and was assigned to the Church of Helm here in the city. I myself was unwed and had aspirations of someday becoming a Knight in the Order. Moirala’s family, the du Chevalier’s, had arranged for her marriage some years previously. Although Lord Cor was not as young as she, he was already successful in his own right and held even greater promise in the world of commerce. He had already garnered a reputation as a shrewd businessman, however rumors circulated widely regarding his scruples, or, rather, his seeming lack thereof. Darker rumors abounded about his –and, forgive me if I sound ‘indelicate’ – appetites for depravity. Montre duChevalier, my Lady’s father was either never privy to such rumors or chose to disbelieve them. In any case, her family thought Lord Cor was a perfect match for her. Although not handsome, he was thought of as dashing, he was of noble birth, immensely successful, and it seemed the Gods had indeed answered their prayers for their daughter’s husband. Of course, Lord Cor’s father, Lord Maxwell, was very pleased as well. Word among the nobles was it was good he had finally found a willing, decent young woman that would give his son an heir, seeing that the daughters of the nobles would have nothing to do with him, his rumored debauchery made him so despised. Lord Maxwell had also made it financially appealing to Montre duChevalier and his family.

“My Lady was a devout follower of Helm in those days and we constantly ran into each other at the Church. I, with my regular duties, and she, with her works of charity. From these casual meetings and occasional Church projects, we became friends, though not close ones in the beginning.

“It was not too long after I met her that she announced she and Lord Cor were expecting a child. We, at the Church, were, naturally, overjoyed at the news of her blessed event. I sensed, however, a certain note of trepidation in her voice when she told me. There was an air of underlying anxiety that only later would I understand.

“She was a small woman, not particularly possessing a good constitution, and the ensuing months that she carried her child were filled with illness from such burden. We at the Church would dispense healing for her when we could, but carrying the child was most debilitating for her. I did not know at the time that Lord Cor had become – shall we say, ‘disenchanted’ – with his wife in her current condition and had taken to hitting her on occasion. Rumors also abound that while on trips to the South, he was availing himself of the various services offered by the prostitutes in the local taverns.

“It was one day near the end of her term that she stumbled into the Church pale, quite disheveled and in near shock. I and my assistant, a wonderful healer named Michael, happened to be the only ones in residence. She stumbled into my arms and there fainted. I looked down and noticed droplets of blood on the floor that seemed to come from under her torn skirts. She was obviously very hurt. We immediately brought her to quarters in the back and laid her on a small bed. Michael performed a major healing ritual for her but it was too late for her unborn child. Having no other choice in the matter, we proceeded to deliver the stillborn child. When I asked her if we should fetch Lord Cor, she was near hysterical in her opposition. I convinced her that he must be informed and as Moirala slept, I sent a messenger to the Delryn home in the Government District to explain what had happened.

“Lord Cor was not at home. However, Lord Maxwell did arrive about an hour later. He was distraught beyond all measure. ‘My son,’ he cried, shaking his head. ‘My bastardly son did this. His drunken rage has possessed him and made him kill his son.’

“’Father Maxwell,’ Moirala awakened from her slumber and smiled up at her father-in-law. They were very fond of one another.

“’Let me take you home, Moirala,’ he said and then turned to me. ‘I will send someone to gather the little one later for preparation and interment in the family crypt.’ He turned and openly wept. His servants then carefully carried Moirala out to his waiting carriage to take her home.

“I remember my assistant asking, ‘Do you think?..’ and I quickly interrupted him. ‘It is not for us to speculate, Michael. We did what our duty called upon us to do.’

“Many weeks passed before I saw my Lady again. I had attempted to garner some information on her condition, but the Delryns were keeping everything very quiet. I remember looking up from a donated box of goods for the poor and seeing her beautiful smiling face looking back at me.

“’My Lady, how wonderful to see you again!’ I gushed before I had the good presence of mind to contain my enthusiasm. ‘How are you feeling? Are you well?’ She laughed.

“’Oh, yes, Ryan, I am quite fine, thank you. As a matter of fact, so well that I want to resume my work here at the Church.’

“’Oh yes, my Lady. You and your good deeds have been sorely missed by all of us in the service of Helm.’

“We never spoke of the incident again until almost a year later. Lord Maxwell had taken ill, could not be revived and had died suddenly, leaving his family totally unprepared for his demise. Moirala had come to the Church shortly thereafter and again I saw that same look of anxiety etched upon her face as when we first met.

“’My Lady, I hope you will not think me churlish, but is something bothering you that I might be able to assist you with?’ I gently offered hoping she would confide in me. I could not explain it to myself then, but the thought of her being discomforted troubled me greatly.

“Her pale blue eyes looked at me as if she were torn between telling me and not telling me. She finally acquiesced. ‘Are you sure you want to hear this story?’ she asked. I nodded.

“She then began to relate to me how Lord Cor had returned home that fateful day many months ago in a drunken angry rage. He had torn her dress and pushed her from room to room. She had fallen and he kicked her to make her get up from the floor. It was he who was responsible for the stillbirth of their son. When Lord Maxwell brought her home from the Church, he delivered to Cor an ultimatum – As long as he (Lord Maxwell) lived, Lord Cor would never touch Moirala in rage again. If he so much as laid a hand upon her, he would immediately be disinherited and disowned. He would be stripped of his title and his family’s wealth. However, the untimely death of Lord Maxwell had brought an end to the peace Moirala had enjoyed since then and the periodic rages that came in spurts and fits were flaring up again. She was frightened.

“Lord Cor then began traveling more as he attempted to open up new routes to the North and to the East. There was a period of time that he was not home for many months. It was during this time that Moirala and I became close friends. She had no family here as they had moved to Baldur’s Gate after receiving substantial sums from Lord Maxwell prior to his death. She would come to the Church and we would work together on some project or other and simply enjoy the time we were able to spend together.

“Then it came to the occasion of the celebration of the day of my birth. I do not know how she found out when it was, but she invited me for a special dinner that she told me she was going to prepare with her own hands. I was most honored by her invitation and the prospect of seeing her outside the Church’s confines seemed most refreshing.

“I arrived at the appointed time and she greeted me at the door. She had graciously released the servants from their duties for the evening as she wanted to cook this meal for me so as to add her own personal touch.

“I sat and watched her as she moved about her kitchen preparing many delicacies to savor with our wine. We talked and we laughed. We ate dinner. We had more wine. Then she rose to clear the table and I attempted to help. In a moment of misdirection a small plate went flying and Helm placed her perfectly in my arms. I looked down into her upturned face and felt compelled to kiss her. I can still remember the smell of jasmine from her dark chestnut hair and how sweet the wine tasted from her lips.” It was the first time he had paused. He took a breath and continued, his face slightly flushed. “That moment in time, I loved her.”

“I picked her up and carried her to the main bedroom and she did not object when my destination became known and my intention clear. We undressed each other and made love to each other. It was, and still remains, one of the most treasured experiences in my life. And that is the night that Anomen was conceived.

“During the next several weeks I tried to convince her to leave Lord Cor, even before he returned home, that we would go to the North where no one knew us. She would not hear of it, saying it would bring dishonor on her family if she left her home to run off with a poor Cleric from Helm’s Church. It was not a slight against me, it was just that in her mind, she was bound by her father’s pledge many years prior. It was her duty to ‘serve’ Lord Cor just as it was my duty to serve the Great Watcher, Helm. It was a few weeks after that she discovered she was with my child.”

“Lord Cor returned home one ten-day later. In order to perfect a ruse concealing the parentage of her unborn child, she fed him wine and seduced him. She thought that in laying with him she could simply explain an early birth later on. But Lord Cor was no fool. During his absence, he had engaged the services of a nefarious, but adept, spy to keep a record of her comings and her goings, her visitors, and anything else out of the ordinary. The spy did an excellent job. He had recorded precisely my arrival time that fateful night and my departure in the early morn along with the fact there were no servants present. When Lord Cor became suspicious of Anomen’s birth time many months later, he had only to refer to his reports and, counting backward, pinpoint it was I, in all likelihood, who fathered young infant Anomen.

“He came to see me at the Church to confront me. He sneered Moirala’s name and said he knew that I was his infant son’s real father. I knew if I admitted to it he would have me killed, but worse he would kill Moirala with his bare hands for her betrayal. I did not think of, or care for, my own safety. If the authorities wanted to burn me at the stake in front of the prison for our infidelity, so be it. But I could not let Moirala die at the hands of that monster. For the love I felt for her, I had no choice but to deny it.” There was a much longer pause.

“It broke my heart as I stood there looking into the eyes of this vermin and told him my son was his.” Sir Ryan’s face grew stone white in the telling. “I waited for Helm to strike me down. Then came the realization that death was nothing compared to living with the thought that animal was going to be my son’s father.

“My wits returned. ‘I demand proof of what you say,’ I told him. He cited the late night visit as evidenced by his spy. ‘That is not legal proof, Lord Cor. You know the court does not allow evidence of speculation or hearsay. You will be the laughing stock of Athkatla if you bring such charges against a Priest of Helm and one of Helm’s most generous patrons. And, no doubt, it would hurt your business.’ He thought about it for a moment then sneered one final time and left without another word.

“With the guidance of Helm, I had stared him down. But he left knowing young Anomen was not his.” His eyes saddened even more as his slightly sagging shoulders told me even more of the burden he had carried.

“My Lady did not frequent the church as she did before our baby’s arrival. On occasion I was blessed with glimpses of him when she was in attendance. I kept a small journal and noted every time I would be so blessed then realized that my denial of him had become my on-going curse.” There was such fatalistic resignation in his voice. “I had to live with the fact he would never be my son.”

“How did you cope with this, Sir Ryan,” I probed gently.

“I went on with my life. I met a lovely young woman a few years later, and although she was not my Moirala, nor could she ever be, I loved her and we were married. It was then I began to squire for the Order and I still had some obligations for the Church.” His face dropped and his voice lowered. “Then the second part of my curse descended upon me. We discovered we would never have children. Nora, my wife, was barren. Helm had indeed made me atone for my sin in ways much worse than death.” His head hung low for a long moment before he again faced me and continued.

“In a few more years I passed my Test and became a full Knight of the Order. It was a very proud day of celebration. And for a brief, fleeting moment I thought I saw Moirala in the back of the Hall clutching the hand of a small brown-haired boy. I..I had not seen Anomen since he was barely walking, but I blinked and she was gone.

“After attaining my Knighthood, I spent several years on various campaigns for both Helm and the Order. I spent more time away from the city than I did here. But, it was about five years later that I was I was sitting with Sir Keldorn and Sir Fahey at the Order early one evening. We were just chatting as good friends tend to do, when I heard someone quickly approaching. When I looked up, Moirala was standing in front of me, ashen-faced and blood spatters on her dress.

“’Sir Ryan,’ her voice was shaky and faint. ‘My son -- OUR son -- Anomen is in desperate need of your aid.’ I knew without her ever telling me that he was severely injured.

“’Take your carriage to the Church of Helm and I will meet you there,’ I replied without any hesitation. She turned and swept from the room as quickly as she had come. I turned to my two best friends. ‘Gentlemen, if you will excuse me I have some very important business to attend to. Should you have any questions about what you have just heard, I will be happy to explain to you upon my return.’ I raced across the long hall, out the side door and swung upon my horse. I arrived at the Church of Helm minutes before the carriage and raced to find Michael who had, by then, ascended the ranks and was now one of the officiating Priests. ‘My son,’ I told him breathlessly. ‘You need to heal my son. I do not know what is wrong with him, but he will be here momentarily.’

“’Whatever are you babbling about, Sir Ryan?’ he said. ‘You have no children.’ Just then Moriala entered the Church with Anomen and Moira. Recognizing her, Michael looked at me wide-eyed but said nothing. They walked up to us. Anomen was just a little boy, but his shoulder was misshapened and bloody, and his arm hung lifeless at his side. Tears were brimming his eyes and he was valiantly holding back the sobs of the excruciating pain. Michael took him aside as Moirala, the little girl, and I stepped away and out of earshot.

“’What happened, Moirala,’ I asked her through clinched teeth. Then she told me. Before she was even done, my rage almost overcame me. I had to use every bit of discipline I had attained in the service of Helm and the Order not to go to Lord Cor’s house, drive my lance through his black heart, then skewer his head on a pike at his front door for all the world to see.

“’No more, Moirala’ I told her. ‘My son will be abused never again by that animal you call your husband. Your honor or not, he is young and has done nothing to warrant such despicable acts against him. Tomorrow he goes to the Academy where he will at least be safe. And, Moirala, if you dare to defy me in this, the only thing I have ever asked of you since his birth, I will bring the entire Order of the Radiant Heart down on Lord Cor’s vile demon head. And, may the Gods help you if you are nearby.’” His teeth were again clinched in his animated rendition of the happenings.

“The next day I took my wonderful son to the Academy where he was enrolled in the teachings of the Service of Helm. I was so very proud.” He paused to catch his breath and compose himself.

“Sir Ryan, if I may ask, why did you not simply take him home with you?” I asked, taking advantage of the respite. “At his age some explanation of future patronage in the Order could have been used without revealing the truth. People might have thought it odd or peculiar but it would have been accepted with time.”

“I could have not kept the truth from my wife and I was always fearful that she, Nora, would have grown to resent Anomen with the passage of time. During her life, she never came to terms with the fact we were childless. When she died almost a year ago she repeated that was her only regret in this life – that she could not give me a child of my own. I just could not risk hurting her with my secret. I was afraid she would grow to hate me knowing I had a son and not born of her. And there were always the inferred threats from Lord Cor himself. Nora was a gentle, loving soul, and I fear could not have withstood the scandal.” He was deeply ashamed and I could sense he had been carrying this pain with him for the better part of his life. “So, I did what I thought was best for everyone. I forced Moirala to give up Anomen in the hopes he would at least escape that devil Cor. I only wish that I had known sooner.” He slowly shook his head from side to side.

I sat for a moment digesting all of this and then returned to my original question.

“Sir Ryan, what can I possibly do to be of service to you?”

“Madam Glory, I am hoping you can help me find a way to tell Anomen Delryn that he is my son and I love him very much. I know he may never forgive me, but I want him to know the truth.” His tired blue-green eyes welled with tears and his face was filled with years of tired guilt.

Yes, Sir Ryan, Anomen could indeed end up hating you, I thought. It was within the realm of possibility that Anomen could blame you for everything.

Our session ended a few minutes later and I asked him to schedule for early in the next tenday. He rose, delicately kissed my hand in farewell and left my office. He made arrangements with Charona for four days later, the day after I was to see Delryn.

It was already noon and I sat staring out my window thinking through my dilemma with Anomen’s case. I was privy to direct information about him, yet unknown to him, but from another patient whose confidentiality was also held in privilege. Well, this little conundrum was a real kick in the pants. How was I going to justify using any information Sir Ryan confided in me to help young Delryn rid himself of what he believed was an evil soul born of an evil father that was never his father to begin with?? And, I was ethically bound not to disclose to Sir Ryan that it was essentially Anomen’s belief in his ‘inherent darkness’ that was at the root of many of his problems. Yes, this was a real kick in the pants, alright. I softly rocked and mentally examined the ethical arguments until I was interrupted by Charona.

“Mistress, I have strict orders from your future husband to make sure you take a mid-day meal. I thought I should at least give you the choice as to what you would like,” she smiled.

“Charona, that is lovely. Maybe some cheese and some fruit would be nice. Oh, and Charona, before I forget it, would you also give yourself a raise when next you pay the wages for yourself?”

“A raise in coin, Mistress?” her eyes lit up.

“Yes, Charona. Increase it by 25 a week.”

“But, Mistress, that is almost double,” she began to object.

“Yes, Charona, and you are worth ten times that, but 25 a week is all I can cover now,” I laughed.

“Thank you, Mistress Gloria! Thank you! I will run right away and get your cheese and fruit for you.” She was out the door and I could hear her laughing in glee all the way down the Promenade.

My dressmaker arrived right on schedule. She brought her sewing apprentice who had the chore of carrying the cumbersome selections of silks and laces and for the next two-and-a-half hours we looked at bolts of samples, she sketched in her note scroll, she re-sketched, she measured me, she re-measured. We were finally through. My wedding dress was at least on paper and the silks had been selected. She would have to order them and they would be specially made.

The end of the day was nearing and I was anxious to leave my world of other peoples’ problems and go home. I bid Charona to please lock up that I was going home to a world of pleasant peace and quite. As I was standing in the doorway, a messenger ran up to me.

“Are you Dr. Gaeston? Dr. MorningGlory Gaeston?” He was breathless.

“Yes, why?”

“I have this package and note for you. It’s from Anomen Delryn.” He gave me the package then nervously hopped from foot to foot awaiting a stipend for his service.

“Uh, Charona?” She was right behind me with coin in hand.

I opened the note –

“Madam Glory – we have been called to De’Arnise Keep east of the City for a day or so. We should be returning, however, prior to our appointment. I thought you might have an interest in my journal from the period in time we spoke of earlier. I hope it might help to provide some useful insight for you . Sincerely, Anomen Delryn”

I walked back inside to my office and threw my cloak over my chair. I opened the package and inside was a small book with gold leaf edging. I opened it up to the first page.

The Journal of Anomen Delryn, it began and as I flipped each successive page I saw entries for each successive day. Some long, some short. Each entry was remarkably detailed and written in eloquent prose-like language and because each entry was so detailed, the book itself covered a fairly short span of time. It looked like that span of time just prior to becoming aware of his sister, Moira’s death. I checked the dates. Yes, I was right.

I nonchalantly flipped through the pages. A crack in the book’s spine revealed one particular entry with well-worn, dog-earred pages. The condition of this particular entry indicated it had been read, and re-read, many times. It intrigued me and I began to read.


The Journal of Anomen Delryn
Day 23, Month of Kythorn, Year of 1369.

Morningtime -

My desire has taken hold of my senses. I must write my dream of Riona last eve in every detail before it evaporates with the mists of this dewy morn.

I dream she walks across the field and teases me to run and take her down in the tall wild grass of summer. I chase her and fell her as a hungry lion would a deer. She is my passion’s prey and now I will possess her.

As we are hidden in the tall grass, I slowly remove her garments down to her pure alabaster skin. She is not shy and openly shares her body with me and the mid-morning sun. She taunts me with the brush of her hand against my body and bids me to shed my tunic. It falls away with the rest of the needless clothing. The soft warm wind rustles the tall slender threads extending beyond our soft bed of green.

I lie beside her, indulging my senses in her body. I gaze upon her beauty. Her brilliant red hair is fanned out upon the long green ferns beneath her and frames her beautiful face. She says nothing but her eyes look up at me, amber with gold dancing. Her breasts gently heave with a quickened breath as I near her. She moans softly and closes her eyes as I bend my head and kiss her full supple lips.

My need grows greater and more dire.’

I continued to read, totally enchanted with this young man’s dream of love fulfilled. It was eloquent, and because it was so explicit, I felt my cheeks begin to color with embarrassment as I further read his intimate and detailed recollection. It was so beautifully expressed, I felt as though I were reading an erotic piece of poetry as I neared the ending of the passage.

A timeless moment passes. Our breathing and our heart-pounding slowly calm. The sound of the wind returns and the chanting of the cicadae resume. I am luxuriating in the calm and satisfaction of lovers fulfilled. I do not want to move from this heavenly creature so rapt beneath me. Her face is filled with divine contentment and her smile is that of a woman who has been sated by the man she loves.

Finally I attempt to move from her. She stops me. “No, do not awake….,” she whispers gently in my ear. “I want you with me forever.”

And then, I awoke.

Nightfall –

I was not without some embarrassment this morning when Minsc noticed the condition of my bedroll. ‘Visit from a witch deep in the night…Even Boo understands,’ he had said quietly and nodded.

Long journey on a beautiful day. Nothing eventful. The heat between Riona and I continues to grow. And Riona’s eyes cannot lie to me. I can see her want and her passion, just as much as I can feel my own. Oh Gods above, where is this leading?!?


I finally departed my office and left Anomen’s journal in the middle of my desk. I had this feeling I had encroached upon a soulful area that could not, or should not, be shared with an ‘outsider’. Riona was the only one who had a right to read that entry. I would further peruse the journal on the ‘morrow for the information I might glean.
It was another beautiful day, and I decided to walk back to the Coronet. As I travelled through the streets, I reflected on Anomen’s telling of his dream. It was so poetic. I wondered if Hendak ever thought of me in the same way Anomen thought of Riona. There was not a doubt Hendak loved me but I couldn’t help but feel a twinge of envy. To have a warrior poet love you was a very special thing indeed.


TO BE CONTINUED.......