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Author Topic: Coins of Memory - Chapter 14  (Read 2791 times)

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Offline Laurna

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Coins of Memory - Chapter 14
« on: June 06, 2013, 06:16:10 am »

Previous Chapter: http://www.rhemuthcastle.com/index.php/topic,1084.0.html

Chapter 14  - WIC  11.12.985   4th Coin                 


The sound of a door gently closing stirred Sir Washburn from sleep.  He awoke in the solar of his apartment, lying on the hard bench with his back to the low-burning fire in the hearth.  The stiffness in his back was confirmation enough that he had survived the prior night’s ordeal.  At least his head rested on a pillow.  Wistfully, in the dim fire’s glow, he mused that he should ask the chambermaids to supply him with more cushions.  It had not occurred to him to ask for such an extravagance before now. 

He thought back on the conclusion of the night before. It was with great relief that his head ceased its pounding behind his eyes and his limbs thawed from their icy state.  He had offered to help dissipate the wards, only to get an adamant “No” from all three men.  Artimus made certain Wash’s palm was cleanly bandaged before Muir guided him back to his apartment.  Muir bade his brother to warm himself before the hearth in his solar while he retrieved some items from his already occupied bedroom.  Wash sank down on the bench in a state of complete exhaustion.  In a handful of breaths, he succumbed to sleep.  Muir must have let him be.  Awaking in the dark, Wash mused upon how good it felt just to be warm.

Hunger grumbled in his belly.  What was the hour?  The only light came from the hearth.  It was enough to see the table with a platter of bread and cheese.  It took him mere moments to eat the remnants down.  He followed the bread with a glass of watered wine.  The wine warmed his insides, and he smiled with delight.  The smallest needs of everyday life were too often overlooked.  Just to be warm and to eat gave a sense of joy.

The tall knight in the long black tunic stood and walked over to the south windowed alcove.  He pulled back the heavy curtains and let the dusky new dawn illuminate his body and mind.  There was a feeling of rebirth in the beginnings of this new day.  He opened the paned glass and enjoyed feeling the breeze brush against his face; he relished a deep intake of cool air.  The forest scent was a fresh mix of spruce, pine and honey-sweet hawthorn.  Lord, it was good to be alive!

Stepping back inside, he realized he had time before Robby came to inquire on his needs.  His own morning routine was simple and he could take care of himself.  He stepped up to the bedroom door.  For a moment, his hand hesitated on the latch.  Concern for the injured woman in his room brought him up short.  He had not seen her since the evening before.  What if her illness had worsened in the night?  Had Pernal’s medicine been enough to diminish her pains?  Gathering his courage, he quietly opened the door and glanced inside.  The expected maid was not to be seen.  Deeply concerned that Jessa had been left alone, he walked to the side of the bed and touched her hand.  At the barest touch, the lady opened her swollen eyes and smiled a weak, innocent smile.  Her eyes followed him as he sat in the chair at her side.

“My shining black knight is safe,” Jessa whispered, her voice raspy.  “Last night, Lord Muir told me that you would be well, but no one would let me leave this bed to see you.”  Her brow was creased from strain, her eyes were barely open, and her body quivered with tenseness from the need to endure that which she had not the strength to relieve.

“And well they should not, my lady,” Washburn replied.  His hands covered her eyes and his mind reached out and brushed up against shields that were firmly in place.  For him, she dropped them, and their rapport deepened.  Within moments, the muscles across Jessa’s face eased and her body relaxed as the pain was pushed down to a tolerable level.  Wash’s fingers caressed her face.  He leaned closer and intimately whispered, “Please forgive me for not coming to you sooner.  I, myself, was unwell, but that is resolved.  From this moment forward, I am forever at your service.”  Gently, his lips brushed her forehead with concern. 

She reached out and touched the stubble on his cheek; a smile parted her lips.  “You risked everything for me; I owe you my life,” she whispered into his ear.

“Perhaps when you are healed, we can speak of the balance of debt I still owe you,” Wash replied as he leaned back to take her fully into his view.  “Please, tell me how I can help.  Can you find the focus?  All my energy is at your disposal to use.”

She nodded, looking down at her left hand.  “As a child, I would have died in a fire with my father.  I always thought I should have died in that flame.  From then on, that thought filled me with terror.  On that pyre, I saw my life come to a full circle.  Oddly, in that confused delirium, all I wanted was to live.  When I saw your face over the flames, I wanted nothing so much in the world as to sense your touch.”  Jessa’s hand squeezed his hand tightly.  “You have given that to me.  I should not ask for more, but I will need your balance to give healing a try.”  She looked across at him, meeting his gaze.  “Come, hold me close.  I still have moments of dizziness.”

As Wash climbed up on the bed, he lifted the chain with the silver medal up over his head.  “This saved me when my own strength was not enough.”  He held the medallion between them.  “I cannot even begin to understand the miracle that encompasses Saint Camber, but I will not deny the greater power of his essence.”  He placed the chain around Jessa’s neck and gently helped her pull her hair free.  Easily, he pulled her closer to rest her head against his shoulder and her back against his chest.  Protectively, he enclosed her shoulders in his arms and his hands rested caressingly around her wrists.  In response to his touch, she raised the medallion high for both of them to see, and then gazed into the gleaming silver to center her focus.  His strong mind was with her, supporting her at every level.  With his energy, the center for healing was not near as difficult to reach as Jessa had first imagined.  As she focused her healing gift on her own breathing, the pair became aware of the pale hands that encased both of theirs.  Washburn was enthralled by the Saint’s presence.  An essence of warmth emanated from that spiritual light. 

Lungs mended quickly.  At last, Jessa took in a deep breath.  She then turned her focus to the burns on her face and legs.  She pulled much energy from the Knight Captain, but he seemed amenable to its usage.  He held her closer and willed her to heal.  From the gift of his energy, her healing began and completed.  Saint Camber’s aspect smiled and then faded away.  The man and woman held tight to each other.  Here was pure joy, the kind that life was meant to share.

As her vitality was replenished with her own healing, Jessa unwrapped the bandage about his hand.  She enclosed his hand within both of hers, and a warm tingle caressed his palm.  When she lifted her hands away, his cut was gone.  She kissed his hand and snuggled comfortably in his arms.

Finally free of the devastating effects of fire, Wash wanted Jessa to find freedom from the mental entrapment of her past.  He broached her fear of fire, wanting to rid her of that terror.  At first, she resisted, a frigid fear shutting down her shields.  He did not recoil at the closure.  He encircled her shields with tranquility and protectively waited for her to recover.  In a wave of trust and relief, she reestablished their rapport.  She imparted to him all that had occurred in her childhood: the engulfing fire of her family home, her father’s death from the falling roof, the two murdering peasants that stole her away, and then their deaths in a distant tavern in the mountains.

Sir Washburn let the images and experiences of the whole of it rush over him in full passion and despair.  He held her close, letting her share her fears; then, one by one, he helped her deal with the long delayed grief and swept the fears of the past away.  When they finally came forward to the events of the last day, it was much easier to understand the fears that had touched both their hearts.  Both had felt terror for the loss of the other.

Washburn kissed the tears from Jessa’s soft cheeks.  She leaned into him, her lips up to his.  They kissed; the sheer sensation of joy enveloped both their hearts with desire.  His fingers brushed along her face; his touch passed along the curve of her neck, massaging a knot in her shoulder.  The cool sensation of the silver chain enticed his hand to seek the medallion that had slipped under the neckline of her shift.  His fingers touched the medal and his mind recalled the engraved words placed upon it. 

With a deep, sudden gasp, he realized he had no rights here; they were passing beyond the moral codes of decorum.  “No!  No, this is not the way,” he said with a cry of shame.  He pulled his hands away from her warm curves, leaving the maiden breathless against the pillows.  He left her side and turned away from her, his mind in torment.  It was a long moment before he dared to turn around and face the woman of his dreams.

“My lord, are you all right?  Have I offended you?”  The maiden’s voice quivered.  “I…I love you my lord— I willingly give you all that I am.”  She told him this from the depths of her soul, the soul she would hand to him unconditionally.

“I mean to marry you, my lady,” he said, catching his breath.  “My actions just now are dishonorable and unknightly.  I should not treat you so poorly.”  He stood ten feet away, yet he could not maintain his distance.  Slowly he came back and sat in the chair at her side. 

“I would rather be treated poorly by a kind man, the one kind man that I love, than live a cold existence near those that I know to have cruelty in their hearts.  I beg of you, my lord, please do not send me back to the convent.”  Timidly, she reached out to him, pleading.  “My lord, I am aware of your duties to your family and liege lord.  I would never ask you to break such an allegiance.  That is the best of what makes you who you are.”  She held his gaze for a moment, then looked away, in shame.  “I do not know the why of it, but Lord Muir was insistent that I return to the convent.  Does he object to me because I am a simple orphan girl with no family lands or dowry to give you in marriage?  If he considers me too low born to wed an earl’s son, than I can forgo marriage.”  Regret sounded in her voice.  “Oh please, my lord, if you grant me nothing more than the protection of your house from the intolerance of the outside world, I could live contentedly as a servant in your cellars!  Please do not send me away.”

Wash sucked in his breath, feeling the emotional pain and determination she held within the suggestion of her words.  Only now he knew there was a chance to have what they both truly desired.  “Love of mine, you don’t see it, do you?”  He took her hand and smiled at the knowledge he had gained only minutes before.  “I’m beginning to understand who you are.”

Her look questioned his words, but her response was abandoned as a woman’s voice echoed from the solar in the next room.  Both of them were  brought to attention with a start.  Wash jumped up from the chair and raced to stand at the hearth a good twenty feet from the side of the bed.  Jessa grabbed the bed covers and pulled them to her eyes, feigning the illness she had only just recovered from.

Lady Lisa opened the door and gasped at the sight of Sir Washburn in the room.  “My lord, you should not be in here.  Where is the maid who I left to watch Jessa for the night?”

“That is my very question, as well,” the knight proclaimed.  “I woke   in the front room not very long ago, and when I came to check on Sister Jessa, I found she had been left alone.  This is unfathomable.  Someone needs to be with her at all times.  Is that order not clear to you?”

“Yes, my lord,” the lady stammered and bowed, stating her fervent apologies.  “It will not happen again, my lord.”

“I am certain that you will see that it does not.”  Washburn said more calmly.  The Deryni lord looked back across to the fragile maiden under the covers.  He turned to mind speech before he forced himself to leave the room.  “Sleep now and rest.  When you have recovered from the fatigue, I have many questions to ask you about your father.  Can you tell me his name?”

“My father?  He was Baron Jacuth Keryell.  I don’t understand,” she responded.

Lady Lisa was already at the maiden’s side feeling for the pulse in her wrist.  “Much better than yesterday.  Is the pain easing?”

“I can tolerate it better than I could before,” Jessa whispered, realizing she had to do more to hide her healing.  Wash saw her duck her head fully under the covers.  He held their rapport as she rubbed her eyes beneath the blanket and purposely willed blood to flush her face.

Lisa turned toward Sir Washburn upset.  “My lord, you’re upsetting her, I think you should go.  No woman wants to be seen in this condition.”

“As you say,” he replied to Jessa’s new protector. Privately to Jessa  he said, “Perhaps Father Pernal can help you disguise you’re Healing.  I believe he will understand the necessity.  Get your rest, my love.  I will return soon.”

*******

It was almost with regret that Washburn let Robby shave the stubble off his face, giving him once more the clean look of a neat mustache and goatee.  His thoughts kept wandering to the gentle fingers that stroked his chin.  His heart had soared when she had given him her father’s name.  Her father was a baron.  His suspicions were confirmed that she was of the nobility.  Steward Ohlin kept tax records of Lendour’s noble houses; listing the tariffs collected from each estate.  As a landed nobleman, Baron Keryell should be listed in the tax records of twelve years ago.

Robby was just neatening the black tunic under his white leather belt, when the door to the guest room Wash was using opened.  The page Wash had sent on a quest stepped in the room.  “Father Pernal is here, my lord.”

“Ah, good, you found him?”  Wash turned toward the door dismissing his squire and the page with a nod. 

“He did indeed find me.  If you had come to morning service with the earl and the countess you would have found me, as well,” the Father admonished.

“I promise to attend this afternoon,” Wash replied. “After the last two days, I could use a little penance.  You can take me in task then, I promise.  This morning, I need you here for Jessa’s sake.  I have hope you will help her in her need.”  It took only a small amount of explaining to have Father Pernal agree to help Jessa hide her healing from the castle servants.  The good father fully understood the need to keep her secret safe.

With the physician returning to Jessa’s side, Wash sent the page on another quest to have Steward Ohlin meet him in the earl’s library.  After he meet Ohlin there, they discovered it was somewhat of a chore to find the tax records of twelve years ago.  Apparently, the books had been reviewed before and they had not been replaced to where they belonged.  At least this time Ohlin was up to the challenge in finding the lost records.  When they found them on the wrong shelf for the year 976 instead of 973, Washburn was not surprised.  A red ribbon even marked the page where the Keryell family name of the weapon smiths was listed.  The annual tariff of the crafter’s house was there.  Listed below that were the names of two men of the same surname who had been granted the accolade.  However, both men remained landless knights, and neither had rose to the nobility of baron, nor had either of them the given name of Jacuth

If someone else had done this research before and they had not found the answer, then there was something missing or wrong in the facts that he had.  Once more, he reviewed all the imagery that Jessa had shared with him about her father.  Something familiar nagged at him, but he was at a loss to say why.  Baron Keryell had an estate on the Molling River.  He was thought to be human, but in fact, he hid his Deryni heritage.  Very few Deryni families were lawfully allowed land due to the Statutes of Ramos.  As a child, Jessa recalled being presented to the king.  King Uthyr had praised her father’s healing abilities, proving he knew Jacuth to be Deryni and therefore he had purposely defied the Statutes by giving him choice land.

Sir Washburn had lived many years at the royal court of Rhemuth.  He had been the King’s squire from the age of eleven.  A part of his duties was to know all of the nobility that passed within the castle halls.  So why did he not know a Baron Keryell?  “Ohlin, what are we missing?  Why can I not find this Baron Jacuth Keryell?”  With the name said aloud there was a strange resonance in the sound, a sound almost familiar.  “Baron Jacuth Keryell,” he repeated, listening to the overall sound.  He knew the name, but it was not quite as it should be. 

A sudden recollection highlighted a memory of a man within the delegation from Tralia.  The Hort of Orsal had sent a physician with high recommendations.  In a wave of astonishment, Wash finally knew he had personally met Jessa’s father.  He abandoned the tax book and asked his steward for the book of heraldry of the Kingdom’s noble houses.  Quickly, he turned the pages to the Duchy of Haldane.  His eyes followed his fingers through several pages.  Near the end were the more recent additions of foreign nobles moving into the realm.  Here he found a single entry with a different spelling for the surname of Jessa’s father. 

Victory at last!  Grasping Ohlin on the shoulder, Washburn grinned happily.  “We have it.  I thank you, my good man.  You have helped me in obtaining my future.  I have my proof.”  Wash carried the book out to the main office and placed the book open in the center of the Earl’s desk.  Confidently, he returned to his apartment, anticipating the joy of sharing this knowledge.

Robby met him at his door, instantly warning him about the confrontation going on inside.  It seemed that a nun from the convent had arrived to insist that Sister Jessa be returned to her home.  Lady Lisa was standing firmly at the closed bedroom door, adamant that the novice was too badly injured to be moved.  Silently, Wash applauded the Lady Lisa’s tenacity.  She was not giving in an inch to the old nun standing angrily before her. 

“Lady Lisa, Sister….  I am Lord Washburn Cynfyn, and I must remind you to keep your voices low.  The maiden within is injured, and she should not be disturbed by the irritation of your raised tones.”  Thus admonished, both women ducted their heads low and curtsied.  “Please inform me as to what is the problem.”

Lady Lisa spoke quickly before the nun could respond.  “My lord.  Let me introduce you to Sister Isabel.  She is from the convent of Saint Clair.  She carries a letter from the Reverend Mother insisting that Sister Jessa be returned to the convent.  My Lord Washburn, please inform her that Sister Jessa is in no condition to travel.  Sister Isabel will not hear the words that I am telling her.  She dishonors the integrity of this house, if she distrusts the truth of Jessa’s injuries.”

Wash feigned shock from the insult.  He turned his stern glare toward the nun.  “Sister Isabel, I want to welcome you openly into the House of Cynfyn, but I will not gainsay Lady Lisa’s words.  If you reject them than you do give offense to the lady.  If so, I will not honor the Reverend Mother’s request, even with a reply.  How do you say?”

The nun quelled under his gaze.  “I pray you, my lord, please.  I do not intend offense.  The novice is sorely missed and we all would like to see her returned to her home.  My heart breaks if she is injured, as Lady Lisa has proclaimed.”

Wash nodded, accepting the nun’s ignorance in the matter.  “It grieves my heart to tell you, but you have been informed truthfully.  Two nights ago, there was a bad fire in the castle.  A man died during that fire and Sister Jessa was caught in the flames.  She sustained severe burns.  We would not dare to consider moving her until she has fully recovered from this ordeal.”

The black clad nun in the heavy white wimple creased her eyes at the nobleman.  “My lord Washburn, Sister Jessa is a valued member of the Church.  If her condition is as serious as you have told me, then I must insist that I see her.  I feel the convent should be responsible for her treatment.”

“Indeed, Father Pernal, our infirmarian, has the maiden’s care well in hand. I believe he may yet be within redressing her wounds.  I see no harm in letting you see her.  Come, please, see for yourself that the novice is well attended.”  Washburn pushed the door inward and stepped into the dark room.  The curtains in the room had been drawn closed, the hearth was burning warmly, a chambermaid sat opposite and Father Pernal finished wrapping a linen strip over Jessa’s right ear and cheek. 

“You must desist all that noise,” the priest admonished.  “Can you not see the poor child needs quiet to rest?”  Jessa lay under the covers, just as she had in the predawn hours: her eyes swollen to slits, bandages covering where she had been burned, and her breathing shallow and slow.  If Wash had not known that the maiden had already healed herself, he would truly believe that she was still very ill.

Sister Isabel gasped at the sight of the novice.  She stood at the bedside and said her prayers.  Wash watched the others around the room and realized they all still trusted what they saw.  With Father Pernal’s assistance, Jessa had succeeded in maintaining the belief of her continued injury. 

With calm quiet words, Father Pernal, pulled the nun aside and spent several minutes discussing Jessa’s condition.  When Sister Isabel appeared to settle in for the duration, it was Jessa who weakly took the nun’s hand and thanked her for coming.  In a confused delirium, Jessa called her Sister Vivian, stating that no other could bring her the comfort that their friendship wrought.  In sympathy, the nun retired from the room, stating that she would inform the Reverend Mother and request that Sister Vivian attend Jessa the following day. 

*******

In the calm afternoon, Washburn attended service as he said he would.  Then he returned to the library to seek out more answers.  The hour was very late when he silently returned to his solar unnoticed and unannounced.  He needed to talk with Jessa, and he needed to have that talk in private.  Aware that being here at all would be construed as improper, he stood silently before the closed door.  Using mind speech, he called to the maiden lying in bed on the other side of the door. “Jessa, can you assure me that the lady is asleep?"

“Just a moment, my lord,” echoed a soft voice.  A minute passed and then she stated, “You may enter.”

He opened the door quietly.  In the chair next to the bed sat the chambermaid sleeping.  Jessa held her hand over the woman’s wrist, her eyes unfocused, assuring herself that the woman would stay asleep. Even so, neither of them was willing to trust sound that might filter into her dreams.

“Are you all right with the strain of all this?” he asked.  “I am sorry that you must continue to endure in this manner, but it seems a wise decision to continue feigning your illness.”

“Much can be hidden under bandages, my lord,” Jessa replied with a light smile half hidden behind a dressing of linen on her right cheek.  “Truly, I did not think it would come to this when I hid my healing from Lady Lisa this morning.  Apparently, no one here has yet guessed that I am Deryni.  I did not think I had kept my secret this well” 

Wash came to her side and began to unwrap the linen under her chin.  “The non Deryni residents expect you to be a caregiver from the convent. They think of you as a woman who has gained Lady Melina’s trust and my love.  Few know the truth of your miracles and very few know the real reason Sir Thomas went mad.  Most believe Sir Thomas was seduced by the abbey to poison the Deryni earl and to kill his Deryni brother.  You were just a means for him to challenge me.”

The maiden ducked away in shame.  “Yet, the truth was the opposite; he thought killing me would save you.  I am to blame…”

“No, my lady—” Wash blurted out before he remember to be silent. “Have you lain here all day blaming yourself?  Do not!  The bad choices he made after you saved his life had nothing to do with you.”

In the silence he finished unwrapping the bandage over her face.  “There, much better.”  His fingers touched flawless skin and then he touched the broken bits of burnt hair over her brow and right ear.  “This will grow out in time.”

Hiding the guilt that could not be assuaged so easily, she replied, “At least my hair was plaited at my back and most of it did not catch on the flame.” She began trembling from the memory.
 
He enfolded her in his arms and held her until the trembling eased. “Time to get you out of this bed,” he declared.  “I brought you a gown from Melina’s wardrobe.  If you care to dress and join me in the solar, we can talk more openly there.” He laid a green velvet gown on her lap and a soft white veil beside it.  He left the room before he was tempted to help her dress.  In the main room, he pulled all the curtains closed and then passed his hand over the hearth.  It instantly brightened the space.  He poured two goblets of wine and then waited for only a few minutes more before she entered.  There was a smile on her lips and a swirl of the rich fabric around her perfect bare feet.

“Thank you for this,” she said, fingering the gown.

“Indeed, my beloved.  I can see you have been feeling a bit confined.”  He teased her.  “If you remove all the bandaging, you know we will just have to put them back on later.”

“Yes,” She flirted innocently; dancing a free step and watching the fabric shimmer in the firelight. 

He motioned for her to sit on the bench before the fire.  He passed her the wine as she settled herself beside him.  “Sister Vivian should arrive tomorrow.  I trust you will be able to inform her of the true events, and she will be able to help you with this charade?”
 
“Yes, my lord that is my hope.”  She gave him all her trust as she sipped the fragrant wine.  Relieved that the goblet held nothing but wine, she took a deeper taste and let that memory slip away.

“I would like to talk about your father.  Are you willing?”  He waited for her to nod before he informed her of what he had found.  “I have reviewed the records and gone through my memories.  I now recall the day when your father was first introduced to the Court of Rhemuth.  He came with the Tralian delegation and he was introduced to the King as Baron Jacuth Kyriell.” He pronounced the proper name slowly.  “Do you hear the difference?  Jacuth Kyriell, not Jacuth Keryell.”  Washburn watched Jessa make her own pronunciation of the two names; a shock of recognition shone in her eyes.

Wash’s mind went back to a time of his youth.  “It was my first year as squire to the King.  I was the only known Deryni squired in the midst of the human king’s court, treading the insecure politics of our race.  My father was there that day, and after the pageantry of court, he pulled me aside to impress upon his youngest son the hardships of the High Deryni families of decades past.  He emphasized that we should never forget the price so many others had paid.  He told me a story in secret, one I was never to repeat.  But this secret is also yours, and you should hear it.”  Jessa sat forward, her grey eyes following him with rapt attention. 

“My father disclosed to me that the new physician from Tralia was a Deryni Healer, one of the best in the Eleven Kingdoms.  The king would have nothing less.  King Uthyr had made an accord with the Hort of Orsal, requesting the Healer to come to Gwynedd to stave off the pains from his old war injuries.  Baron Jacuth Kyriell was given lands in Gwynedd in accordance to the agreement.  But before he could come to Gwynedd with his family, he had to hide his Deryni identity and drop the last name of his forefathers.  A name, which was and is still today, outlawed in Gwynedd.  My father told me that name.  Do you recall your father telling you his true surname?” 

She looked up at him confused.  “You just told me it was Kyriell.”

He placed his hand over hers, reassuringly.  “Your father’s birth name was Thuryn, Jacuth Kyriell Thuryn.”  Wash looked away for a moment, remembering.  “If I recall my father’s words correctly, he said that Jacuth was the son of a powerful Healer, named Tieg Thuryn, who had died in the service of King Owain of Gwynedd two decades before. Without the protection of their parents, the Deryni children of Lord Thuryn were separated, with some to be raised beyond Gwynedd’s borders.”  His face lit with victory as his eyes saw recognition in her features.  “Yes, you recognize your grandfather’s name, don’t you?”  The goblet was shaking in her hand, when he gently took it from her fingers.

“A week ago, you asked me to learn more about Sanctus Camberus.  Although the references for him in the prayer books are very different from the stories my mother once told, I found the mention of a second name alongside the name of Camber MacRorie, a name that should not surprise you.  The name was Lord Rhys Thuryn.  If we were in Rhemuth, I know I could research the history of this man, but here in Lendour, I can find very little information.  What I know is that the name of Thuryn is somehow intertwined with Camber.  You are a Thuryn, and somehow Saint Camber is intertwined with you.” 

He lifted the medallion on the chain around her neck.  Mystified, both of them stared at the medal held between them.  Her Saint had always been so close and warm.  What was the connection between herself and Saint Camber’s life-force?  Wash felt her questions and could not immediately answer them.  Instead, he held her hands firmly within his.  “I want to learn as you learn the answers to your questions.  I could never send you back to the convent, no more than I could treat you as a mistress.”  Her trembling increased, only this time it was not from guilt or fear.  “Jessamyn Kyriell Thuryn, there is no obstacle left between us.  We are of equal nobility.  I love you, my lady.  Given this new knowledge, will you still consent to be my wife?”

Tears dampened her cheeks.  She could barely contain her joy.  “Yes, my Lord Washburn, forever yes.”

Lord Washburn laughed at their victory.  He pulled her close, conscious of her warm figure.  “I apologize for my lapse this morning.  I promise I will not bring on scandal with our dreams so close to being fulfilled.  I would not want any family you have remaining to find fault with me now.  If I treated you poorly before, I beg forgiveness.  If I treat you poorly ever again, then your family has every right to take my head from my shoulders and serve it on a platter to my brother.”  Wash half-joked with a smile as he said this, but then that smile twisted and deepened until his visage was filled with concern.

“Oh my!”  His frown deepened.  “I had forgotten about your mother…”

Next chapter: http://www.rhemuthcastle.com/index.php/topic,1089.0.html

« Last Edit: June 08, 2013, 04:47:30 am by Laurna »

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Re: Coins of Memory - Chapter 14
« Reply #1 on: June 06, 2013, 09:33:52 am »
Now let's hope Mama is so elated to find her daughter alive that she'll readily grant consent to her marriage.  Wash is a pretty good catch for a Baron's daughter, after all, even if she's of royal lineage on her mother's side.   :)
"In necessariis unitas, in non-necessariis libertas, in utrisque caritas."

--WARNING!!!--
I have a vocabulary in excess of 75,000 words, and I'm not afraid to use it!

Offline Jerusha

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Re: Coins of Memory - Chapter 14
« Reply #2 on: June 06, 2013, 11:33:59 am »
Well worth waiting for, Laurna!  Though I suspect Washburn should continue to keep Jessa's true surname secret, or there could be more turmoil on the horizon!

Given that there are still the Deryni nuns to rescue, there is probably more turmoil on the horizon anyway.   ;)
From ghoulies and ghosties and long-leggity beasties and things that go bump in the night...good Lord deliver us!

 -- Old English Litany

Offline derynifanatic64

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Re: Coins of Memory - Chapter 14
« Reply #3 on: June 06, 2013, 06:35:49 pm »
Excellent chapter!!
We will never forget the events of 9-11!!  USA!! USA!!

Offline TKnTexas

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Re: Coins of Memory - Chapter 14
« Reply #4 on: June 06, 2013, 09:28:51 pm »
Oh my.. I am so elated to find a new chapter.. and one so full of surprise.
Thomas Hill

Offline Elkhound

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Re: Coins of Memory - Chapter 14
« Reply #5 on: June 06, 2013, 10:07:27 pm »
The only thing I can find any fault with is the phrase "dusky dawn."  What does that mean?  "Dusk" means 'sunset'; "dawn" means 'sunrise.'  "The sunsetty sunrise"?  That's gibberish!

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Re: Coins of Memory - Chapter 14
« Reply #6 on: June 06, 2013, 10:23:29 pm »
There's also dusky in the sense of dark in color or deeply shaded.  Granted, that definition also derives from dusk, but isn't limited to describing it. For instance, Rothana's complexion is described as dusky at least once.  So in that sense, I can imagine the shadowed time at the very cusp of daybreak being a "dusky" dawn, despite that seeming like an oxymoron of sorts.
« Last Edit: June 06, 2013, 10:25:58 pm by Evie »
"In necessariis unitas, in non-necessariis libertas, in utrisque caritas."

--WARNING!!!--
I have a vocabulary in excess of 75,000 words, and I'm not afraid to use it!

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Re: Coins of Memory - Chapter 14
« Reply #7 on: June 07, 2013, 03:43:51 am »
Hi everyone,
It has been a long hard day at work, I had little sleep last night because I did not get this on the web until 5AM.  My eyes are crossing and I want to find my bed to sleep. But I had to check the forum pages just to see if anyone had been here.  I read the comments and nearly fell off my chair laughing.

I know, I know, I have been told many times already, I use too many adjectives. I got a hand slap over this, so I did eliminate a few of them, the more obvious pesky adjectives. But some just could not be parted from the text. I love adjectives, sorry about that, I just do.

 :D Dusky dawn and Sunsetty sunrise ;D  I have to love you Elkhound.  Two days ago, I'm at my computer at 3am in the morning when 'dusky dawn' replaced the words 'dim dawn'.  I had used the word Dim already and I wanted to portray the very earliest moments of light coming from the east. Per my thesaurus Dusky is slight or deficient light, shadow. But I see that this leads to an "oxymoron of sorts" ::)  Maybe I just wanted to wake you from this slow, over dramatic, too many worded chapter.  I know, I know lose more of this pesky adjectives. lol.

By the way.  This chapter is not over.  I will post the rest of this chapter tomorrow as Chapter 15. It was just too long to do in one swoop.  So sorry to keep torturing all of you with this.  But I love you all for reading it.
Good night everyone.
« Last Edit: June 07, 2013, 03:46:19 am by Laurna »

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Re: Coins of Memory - Chapter 14
« Reply #8 on: June 07, 2013, 07:15:54 am »
Don't think you are alone in the enthusiastic use of adjectives!  ;)

*Does happy dance at the thought of a second chapter this week*  :D
From ghoulies and ghosties and long-leggity beasties and things that go bump in the night...good Lord deliver us!

 -- Old English Litany

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Re: Coins of Memory - Chapter 14
« Reply #9 on: June 07, 2013, 09:27:27 am »
Adjectives are great in moderation.  I love them too.  Just remember, there's a fine line between being generous with one's adjectives and inviting them to take over the place and indulge in wild orgies.   ;D

"In necessariis unitas, in non-necessariis libertas, in utrisque caritas."

--WARNING!!!--
I have a vocabulary in excess of 75,000 words, and I'm not afraid to use it!

Offline Elkhound

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Re: Coins of Memory - Chapter 14
« Reply #10 on: June 13, 2013, 09:25:29 pm »
My mother told me that when she was going out for an evening, the last thing she would do was look in the mirror and take off one item of jewelry.  Thus, she would know that she wouldn't be too gaudy.   

Think of adjectives and adverbs like jewelry.  Nouns and verbs are like your clothing.

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Re: Coins of Memory - Chapter 14
« Reply #11 on: June 16, 2013, 04:00:51 pm »
Hi Elkhound,  that is too funny!
In the real world I am a plain Jane. None or very little jewelry or make up;  the jeans and t-shirt type. Hard to ware jewelry around dogs and parrots, the later like to tug at the shiny things. I guess I am letting my personal want for embellishing out in words instead. I am trying to be more conscious of these notions.  I just have to make sure all the cloths are being warn in this rewrite (nouns and verbs) and the jewelry is reduced(adjectives and adverbs) (but not completely "Plain".) It's a time consuming task.
I'm nearly done with chapter 16. I'll have it out this coming week. Then one more after that and all will be done. Fourteen months in the making. Yeppey!

Offline Elkhound

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Re: Coins of Memory - Chapter 14
« Reply #12 on: June 18, 2013, 08:16:32 pm »
My mother was a very elegant lady.  About 5'10", blond hair, brown eyes, high cheekbones, trained in her youth as an opera singer and would walk into a room as though she was stepping onto a stage.  (She sang "Tosca" in a brown wig.  It was before I was born, but I am told that she didn't just stab Scarpia---she gutted him like a prize trout.)

(BTW--has anyone done a Gwyneddian version of "Tosca"?)

 

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