The Talons of a Dark Heart Ch. 07

"Hello Talyis," Gareth said to her and tipped his hat to her.

Talyis couldn't help but smile when she saw Gareth. He stepped up behind his Delia and wrapped his strong arms around her plump belly. The stout woman had a grin from ear to ear, her blazing red hair decorated with yellow and white wild flowers. Her flowery dress billowed as she beat the basket she was carrying against her legs. Delia looked quite feminine except for the large brown boots that were covered in mud and her thick stocking socks. Gareth squeezed her to his body, his prize.

"Hello, Gareth, Delia," Talyis smiled.

"What brings you'ere, Pigeon?" Delia chirped loudly.

"I am with the prince and he's... courting."

Delia laughed, "Ain't that a kick, luv?" She reached her hand behind her to touch Gareth's face. "If we waited less a fortnight, you'd keep your place."

Talyis looked at them quizzically.

"I removed myself from the royal line when we returned. Delia and I married this morning," Gareth informed Talyis.

"It ain't official until Novak signs the declaration but it's real to me," Delia added and kissed Gareth squealing with marital bliss.

"How are you?" Gareth asked, concerned. He ignored Delia's hands fluttering playfully about his body.

Talyis kicked the dirt. "I am well."

"I imagine it is not a pleasant change for you, but you will learn. Just think of your green-eyed boy, Talyis."

"Pigeon, come to me pub when you like," Delia piped up, her face always smiling. "I bet a girl like you can be rough and tumble, give 'em a run for their clinks." She smoothed her red hair that just bounced back into its willful disarray. "Come on luv, we got to be going. It is me honeymoon after all." She tickled Gareth eliciting an embarrassed laugh from him. Delia smiled. "Take care, Pige."

The happy couple turned walking away arm in arm. Her feet were moving before she could stop them.. Talyis ran to Gareth tears streaking down her face. Sympathetic strong arms surrounded her, holding her tight.

Gareth whispered, "We will help you as much as we can."

Delia also assured Talyis with a kind nod, before she hugged Gareth to her to walk arm in arm, happily returning to their honeymoon forays.

Encouragement calmed Talyis's spirit, allowing the troubled thoughts her dream had brought her to finally release. She girded herself, ready to let whatever Novak and Calena would throw her way to just fall off her shoulders.

I am the daughter of King Aronich. I am the future ruler of a great and strong empire, she reminded herself.I can crumble these people as chalk in my hands.

Petty thoughts comforted her as she looked around the very small village of people trying to rebuild and restore their family lines.

She laughed arrogantly to herself in attempts to comfort herself.Even their castle is feeble as a child's play of yielded sand and water on the shore. My family's rule had decadence and power that astonished all foreign dignitaries to bend to the will of my Father.

Turning confidently, she picked up the basket and sacs of fruits to return with her head held high, determined to ignore the little voice called humility that had guided peace to her these many years since her mother's murder.

She found Novak and Calena standing near a small ramshackled cottage. Calena was feeding her horse fresh oats from her hand. The Navapa woman was beautiful to say the least, she stood tall and elegant her blonde hair gloss beautifully in sun and her small face exemplified femininity. She was as majestic as her lovely white horse.

"Talyis," Novak greeted her as she walked towards them, "Assist me. I need to visit one of my peasants. Calena, do you mind, I'll only be a moment?" Calena nodded. Novak entered the cottage ducking as he went through the doorway.

Talyis followed Novak into the cottage's small stuffy single room. The smell of Aricin meats and spices wafted through the stilted air from a stove behind a large thick oak table. A small unkempt cot sat against the wall and a colorful line of afghans led from the bed to an old overstuffed chair A small old lady was hunched over in the chair that was bursting from the seams. Her disheveled silver locks hung down into her lap and hid her wrinkled face. Grey eyes looked up from the needlework in her shaky hands and she smiled brightly seeing Novak in her room.

"Oh my dear!" She smiled and she stood on shaky feet to greet Novak. Novak rushed to the old woman's side helping her to stand steady and grabbed her walking stick, firmly placing it in her hands. "You've returned."

"Yes, and I think I may have found our Queen." He smiled weakly knowing this would please her as it would many when the news would break out, but he could not rejoice in it.

"Oh, bless you," She hugged Novak to her, frail arms holding him so tight. "We will finally go on."

Novak sighed deeply, Talyis's presence weighed on him as though she were sitting on his chest looking down on him with her soulful brown almond eyes admonishing him,You are settling against love. "Yes, Umma." He said.

"Is this she?" The old woman looked at Talyis measuring her.

"No, Umma," Novak blushed deeply, "She is outside. You will meet her another time. This is Talyis." The woman looked Talyis over making her feel awkward as she barely could hold the heavy basket in her hands. "Bring that here." Novak snapped and Talyis brought the heavy basket over. Novak took it from her and began to shift through the basket of goods. He pulled out a bottle of strange oils he instructed Talyis to get and rubbed them unto Umma's neck and the thin skin of her collar. "Umma, how are you feeling?"

"Good now that I can die knowing my home has at last been set straight finally," Umma said with glee but then snapped the oils from Novak's hand and continued to medicate herself smelling the oils.

Novak grumbled and threw his hands up in objected surrender. She scoffed his discomfort with her candidness talking about her death and patted him softly on the shoulder. Her body shook as she held herself up with her stick and started to walk around the small cluttered room to her kettle stewing and began to pour bowls of the brown stew.

"Sit down, eat." She barked and a bony finger pointed strictly to the chair at the table.

"Umma, no. You need to eat your food." Novak tried to stop the frail woman but she waved him away his protest insistently.

"I may not have much but I can serve what I have to my majesty, if I wish."

"Here, Umma," Novak tried to bring the woman back to her chair but she moved away busying herself with cutting bread. "I brought you some jams and fresh fruits. Is there anything else I can get you?"

"Yes, sit." She lightly pushed Novak down into the chair and sat the bowl in front of him. She snapped her fingers repeatedly and motioned for Talyis to sit next to Novak placing another large bowl of stew on the table.

Novak sighed and glanced at the pot of stew: it was her last two bowls. He sighed heavily again. "Things will get better, Umma." He took the woman's hands into his own. "But I cannot stay too long. My soon-to-be betrothed is waiting outside."

"Why didn't you bring her in?"

Novak shuffled his foot letting his apprehension only exhibit with the small move. He did not trust Calena to meet the dearest person to him, yet. When he was a boy, he imagined what the day would be like if he had gotten the chance to introduce Talyis to her, looking forward to seeing Umma's delightful smile when he announced her as his betrothed. But that wasn't the circumstances reality presented to him, instead he mumbled, "Soon, Umma."

The old lady turned her attention to Talyis, standing so still in the middle of the room she almost forgot she had another visitor. Her gray eyes squinted inspecting her until she slowly said, "You are not from here?"

"She's Onor, Umma."

"Novak!" Umma's body shook and trembled and she almost lost her grip on her walking stick. Her grey skin turning red with anger. Novak quickly supported her and ushered the woman to her small cot. She sat down, never taking her eyes off of Talyis looking over Novak's protective shoulder. "I love my children, Novak. I tried to hold on to them but they ripped them from me," the woman wept, her cries slicing through the room and straight to a stunned Talyis.

"I know, Umma. I am sorry. I am so sorry, Umma." Novak took the woman into his arms and held her tightly. Her tears soon subsided and she concerned herself with Novak, brushing the obstinate curls from his face. "Please come back to the castle, Umma." He pleaded.

"So you can take care of me? No, I am fine here on my own." She looked at Talyis still frozen in bewilderment and said confidently, "Girl, eat." She pointed to the bowl.

"No thank you, Umma," Talyis declined. Her nose was already scrunching up to the smell of the strange spices that were foreign to her weak stomach.

"My name is Ulie," the old woman snapped vehemently, "You may not call me, Umma, Onor girl."

"Umma, she doesn't understand." Novak tried to reason with her, but her anger began to boil again. He held her to him, hoping to alleviate her pain and comfort her. He worried so much about Umma when he traveled. "Talyis. please help Ulie by taking the things from the basket, leave Calena's items in it."

Talyis busied herself, anxious to avoid causing any more pain to the old woman. Bugs scurried into crevices as the light of the room hit the sparsely filled cupboards. She placed the cheeses and jars on the shelves slowly, eavesdropping on Novak's conversation with the old woman.

She could tell Novak behaved very cautiously around Ulie, not wishing to disturb her delicate balance. Ulie would reject his offers when he insisted on taking care of her but became very vulnerable when she started to drift off to painful memories of her lost children.

Talyis imaged the younger Umma had probably been a spitfire, standing strong, taking care of her family, and obviously loyal to her leaders. She felt guilty looking down on these poor people just to elevate herself. Her attention snapped away from the cabinets to the storm looming in the corner from Novak's distressed pleas.

"Please Umma, please!" Novak begged loudly as he reached for the woman, but she slapped his hand away from her. She stood up as straight as she could and walked to the middle of the room, her bony finger pointed at Talyis.

"Your people killed my husband; you ripped my young children from my hands and murdered them. Your soldiers came into my home and plucked my babes from my arms and killed them. I had a girl, she was three years old, a beautiful baby girl, Ameria had lovely dark hair like my Novak, rosy cheeks and a laugh that set bells to envy. My eldest, Falin, he was four years old; he was the kindest gentlest babe. You tried to kill me, Onor, but I survived. I survived!"

Novak came to the woman's side taking her into his arms again and calming her as he had done with many of his people since his return to the Aricin kingdom. But Umma was special. Umma was his mother's closest friend; she had helped bring him into the world. She was his nurse and raised him side-by-side with his mother. She'd lavish love and attention on him anytime she could. The two friends sang sweetly to him while he was sick and encouraged him to be kind. Umma would have attended him during the days of war if it weren't for his mother insistence on bringing her children to the castle.

But Umma refused. She didn't want her children to worry about the war surrounding them by relocating them to the castle. Instead she stayed in her home in the village while her husband fought at the strongholds. No one ever thought that the Onor warlords would enter the villages and murder innocent, unarmed people.

Novak watched as Umma retreated to her chair and continued her needlework, humming the tune that both his mother and she had sung to him when he was young. Umma broke his heart. He could not refuse her requests but he wished she'd allow him to care for her as she deserved. Umma was ailing.

"Novak, do you think your mother would like this in her rooms?" Ulie held up the beginnings of a beautiful tapestry and smiled proudly. He could only nod, caressing her soft wrinkled hands with his own.

***

Talyis curled up in a ball on Novak's settee in his bedchamber, watching the fire dance shadows across the stone walls. Relieved, she had been left alone since they had returned from the village. Novak occupied his time with Calena; Talyis seemed to disappear from his attention. He busied himself entertaining Calena with games and magic tricks in the adjacent room.

The night was growing late. Her jaw ached and her muscles were stiff, Talyis was annoyed with herself; she had been grinding her teeth while listening to Calena's giggles leak through the walls. She thought of Novak's vulnerabilities with the old woman that afternoon were so endearing. And she questioned his motive to "co-exist" with her and giving her freedom to roam the castle- a prisoner but not fully. His diplomacy reminded her of her green-eyed boy's reasoning to do what was best for everyone, caring and always so sweet.

She kicked her feet in front of her, teasing herself, "It's only a coincidence, Talyis, that he has dark hair and green eyes, nothing more. Stop it. You cannot let this man flood your mind so much- not in this way."

In all the years since her mother's death, her feelings and reservations had not been considered by her Father. Yet this man who had hurt her in the most horrendous way imaginable, had consideration for her diet, her "freedom" and even tried to ease the guilt she felt by changing subjects while in the old woman's home. She even caught him staring at her. But his stare only perplexed her all the more as his contenance was conflicted with conviction as if he realized how he ruined her.

Laughter bounced of the walls into the bedchamber followed by the muffled words of Novak's enchanting deep voice. Rolling her eyes, she rose and flexed her jaw and paced the room, trying to ignore Novak's chuckles and Calena's harmonious chimes. His laugh was brilliant and heart-warming when it wasn't filled with the sarcasm and contempt that she always received.

The couple's earlier intellectual conversations of the day had given way to sweet nothings and errant flirtations. Talyis begrudged the simple fact that Novak kept his distance from the princess, honoring Calena instead. Fury rose within her and she walked over to one of the most elegant of vases sitting on a pedestal. She pitched it at the door of the adjoining room.

Abruptly the voices silenced and she was glad for those moments of peace she had just before the heavy door swung open. Novak marched into the room, surveying the million little ceramic pieces crackling under his feet. With an eyebrow raised, he looked at Talyis and then turned, slamming the door behind him and returning to Calena.

Talyis roared in frustration. She plopped onto the bed, completely bored. As she had done for the past three hours, she once more memorized the room. Painting, hearth, settee, bathtub, curtain, stacks of books; she crawled from the bed onto the cool ground and over to the stacks of books.

She opened a book, a folktale written in Aricin, another ancient history tale she had loved as a girl in her Onor language. She skimmed through the books, not really interested, but thankful for something to occupy her attention from the budding love in the adjacent room. She opened a book written in an unfamiliar language. She surveyed the words and noticed a few phrases that looked similar to Aricin. Paging to the beginning of the book, she began to dissect the words for meaning. She clutched the book in her hand when she figured out the first word of the ancient Aricin text. Liberation never felt so close, if she could master the ancient Aricin lexicon, Novak couldn't hide behind his almost dead language.

"Do you know what you are reading?" A strong voice from behind her startled her. She turned to see Novak kneeling behind her, looking over her shoulder at the book. A carefree grin stretched across his face under his twinkling serene eyes. Baffled, she stared at him, feeling as though she'd been caught red-handed but not discerning danger. He took the book from her hands and sat next to her, like an older sibling reading to the younger. Just as sibilings do, he put the book in his lap and paged through looking for more interesting parts.

"She had me steal from her mother today," he read then showed her the text, and she leaned over to take a quick peek, his finger pressed to the page under lining, "even though she continues to mock and challenge." Again he tipped the book to let her follow along. "I cannot deny the fact that I feel so happy around her-" the book slapped closed as he suddenly stopped reading. His free hand stretched towards the stacks of books to pull out another. "Read this, it's in ancient Aricin as well as and much more interesting than the drivel of a silly old dead man's diary."

Novak stretched and yawned loudly, pulling his exhausted body from the floor. Talyis sat transfixed by the book, desperately trying to learn as much as she could before he would take it back.

He tucked his diary away, hiding it from her. The book was heavy with memories and just handling it made him eager to put it aside. Eager to forget the many days of his youth where the young princess made him steal things her parents didn't allow, the days she'd emasculate him in front of the other servant boys because he bested her in class, or the days she teased the way he looked: his fair skin, tall lanky body, green eyes, and his curly raven hair were all very alien to her land. He remembered the many lashings he received by doing her bidding just to see her happy, he was so enthralled by her.

The moment Talyis offered her life for her people had neutralized his acid stained heart. The scornful words King Aronich spoke the night of the raid in regards to his daughter rang in his ears; this wasn't the woman he had expected to enslave. This woman was different, changed; and spending the entire day with Calena made Talyis all the more intruiging.

He growled at himself; he did not want to fall for this woman and be at her mercies again. His heart and mind struggled, clashing with each other trying to overthrow the other. Pragmatism prevailed. He had raped her, branded her and enslaved her. His rage ruined his life dreams; bitterness flowed like rapids through his veins when he laid his eyes upon her, killing his chances to fight for true love. He deeply repented his actions since that night he lay in the dust when the vengeance cleared from his mind. He could not change what was done, and to show his love for her would only weaken him and make him vulnerable to be used by her as he was in his boyhood. Yes, he had to be pragmatic, Talyis would never forgive him and he never expected her to, to be lovers was eternally star-crossed. He pained to show, but apologies couldn't convince her of the secret seed of love he had for her and that it continued to bud all the more.

This was not one of the Aricin romantic tales his mother would read to him, where the beautiful, perfect princess was in peril and the strong, faultless prince would save her from unspeakable dangers. These stories led to false hopes and did not exist outside of pages of ancient books. If they were to be true, his people would not have been nearly erased from the face of the earth only for time to bury them as an afterthought. He never would have lost his parents, and he would have never met Talyis.

He patted her shoulder. "It is time for bed." Talyis frowned and closed the book, holding it out to him. "Keep it, read it."