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Offline Evie

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Visionaries--Part Two--Chapter One
« on: November 11, 2011, 09:12:36 am »
Visionaries—Part II

"Then thou scarest me with dreams, and terrifiest me through visions"—Job 7:14


   Chapter One

   Rhemuth Castle, the Duke of Cassan’s chambers
   March 25, 1136


   Easter had come and gone three days past, and Dhugal’s household was making ready for their return trip to Cassan.  But they had rested in their preparations on this evening, setting aside a few hours to spend time together as a whole family before the Duke and Duchess returned north with their younger children.  The ducal heir, six-year-old Duncan Michael, would be remaining behind in Rhemuth with his grandfather Bishop Duncan so that he could complete his beginner-level studies at the Schola and begin training as a junior page in King Kelson’s Court.  Once he’d gained a basic education in both Deryni and courtly skills, he would continue on to his Uncail Mihall’s Court in Llyr to begin his fosterage there, remaining in Llyr for a few more years until it was time for him to return to Gwynedd and begin easing into his responsibilities as Kierney’s earl and the Duke’s eventual heir to Cassan.

   At the moment the lad looked rather anxious about his family’s imminent departure.  The bishop smoothed the boy’s hair with one hand, smiling down at him.  "It won’t be all that much different than the past few months have been for you.  You enjoy your studies, don’t you?"

   Duncan Michael nodded, though the gesture lacked the ready conviction it usually held when he’d been asked that question before.

   "And you get along well with your friends in the boys’ dormitorium?" Duncan asked.

   "Yes, Papa Duncan. It’s not that."

   "What is it, then?" Duncan asked, his voice quiet, soothing.

   Duncan Michael glanced unhappily at his father.  "Can’t Mama Miri stay just a little while longer?" he pleaded.

   Ah, so that was the problem, Duncan mused.  Dhugal’s ducal responsibilities had taken him back to Cassan shortly after Twelfth Night Court earlier in the year, but as his eldest son was still very young to be left alone as a first-time student at the Schola, Duchess Mirjana had agreed to stay in Rhemuth until Dhugal’s return for Easter Court in order to help ease the child into his first months away from his family home.  But of course she could hardly remain apart from her husband indefinitely, and the time had come for her to return to Cassan with the Duke.

   Duke Dhugal shook his head, looking sympathetic yet firm.  "I’m afraid not, son. I need Mama Miri with me.  But you know, your Papa Duncan’s not going anywhere. He lives at the Schola."

   Mirjana gathered the boy into her arms.  "You know we’ll visit as often as we can, and you’ll be allowed holiday visits home as well.  It’s hardly as if we’re not going to see each other anymore."  She kissed the top of his head.  "And you can write now, so I’m expecting a lot of letters from you.  You can tell us about your adventures here in Rhemuth, and I’ll tell you what is happening in Cassan and Kierney.  And also Transha; we’re stopping there first on the way back to Ballymar, aren’t we?"  She glanced at her husband briefly for confirmation before continuing to soothe his son.  "I’m sure we’ll be there long enough for me to send a letter from there as well.  I imagine Ciaran will be glad for letters from his family also."

   Duncan Michael looked a bit more cheerful at the reminder that his boyhood friend would be remaining behind with him, for he too was enrolled in the beginner classes at the Schola.  Aine Rose was also old enough now, but Jass had decided to keep her with the family another year or two longer, reluctant to foster out his baby girl so far from home just yet.  Most of the entry-age students were closer to Ciaran’s age than Duncan Michael’s, at any rate, and Aine Rose was only half a year older than Duncan Michael.  Her Deryni gifts hadn’t manifested quite as early as his, so there was no great rush yet to start her training.

   Feeling a bit more reassured, the lad scampered off to play with his younger siblings. Dhugal reached for his wife's hand, clasping it lightly as he turned to his father with a grin.  "I have both good news and a confession, Father," he told Duncan, a glint of humor in his amber eyes.

   "Oh?  Well, I suppose I'd better hear the good news first," Duncan replied.  "Maybe that will put me in a better frame of mind for your confession."  He glanced at Mirjana, who sat beside his son with her eyes demurely downcast, a charming blush on her cheeks.  "I don't imagine I need to rush back to the Basilica for my purple stole?"

   Dhugal chuckled.  "I hope not."  He glanced at his wife, giving her hand a gentle squeeze.  "We just wanted to let you know before we head back to Cassan that it appears you're going to be a grandfather again."

   Duncan smiled at his rosy daughter-in-law.  "That's definitely good news, then.  I suspected it might be something of the sort."  His eyes crinkled at the corners.  "And now your confession?" he prompted, attempting to sound stern but failing utterly.

   Dhugal's expression radiated unholy mischief.  "I might not have been as fully abstinent as one ought to be during the Lenten season."

   "Dhugal!"  Mirjana's eyes widened with shock as the rosiness of her cheeks deepened into scarlet.  She smacked his arm.

   Duncan roared with laughter.  "Yes, I gathered that much also.  Don't worry, son; if you count the months backwards from your own birth date, you'll discover I didn't keep Lent in that way either.  So, been sneaking early visits back to Rhemuth, have you?  Spending a few stolen moments with your wife after attending Master Janos's weekly Healer classes?"

   Dhugal grinned.  "Before his classes, actually.  Thank God for Transfer Portals!"

#

   Bishop’s Study, St. Hilary’s-Within-The-Walls
   March 26


   "So, what has you in such a fine mood this morning, Father?" Sister Helena asked as she looked up from retuning the late Duchess Catriona’s old clàrsach.

   The bishop smiled at her from his desk.  "It’s springtime for certain now.  The birds are returning to Rhemuth, the trees are putting forth new growth, and apparently so is my daughter-in-law."

   "Oh?"  Helena grinned.  "Sister Therese will be ecstatic to hear that."

   "Yes, I can imagine," Duncan said drily.  In a falsetto voice, he added, "Be fruitful and multiply, and bring forth a new generation of Healers, Your Grace.  Lots and lots of Healers, until your poor Duchess has to beat you upside the head with a quarterstaff to get some rest."

   The magistra laughed heartily at Duncan’s imitation of Sister Therese’s imagined exhortation.  "She’s not that bad!"

   "Is she not?  Then why does she look so grieved every time she asks me if I’m absolutely certain of my vocation, and I have to tell her yes?  I’m half afraid Thomas is going to show up on my doorstep unannounced some morning, waving a letter at me and telling me he’s approved a dispensation of my holy vows."

   "Archbishop Cardiel would do no such thing," Helena denied stoutly, her mouth twitching as she attempted to hold back a grin.  "He’d most certainly pass that task on to Archbishop Bradene, since Bradene has a good excuse to flee Rhemuth after delivering the bad news to you."  She turned back to tuning the harp strings, her shoulders shaking with laughter.  "Don’t take it too personally, Father.  You do know what Tessa’s father did for a living, don’t you?"

   "No, what?"

   A giggle escaped her.  "He was a horse breeder. Therese can’t help assessing you for stud potential; it’s in her blood."

   "Sweet Jesú!"

   "Well, at least your son seems happy enough to do his duty towards the Kingdom," Helena observed with a wry smile.  "This is what, his fourth child? And Duke Alaric’s brood keeps growing as well.  Hopefully at least a few of those children will end up passing on the Healer trait.  We already know about Briony’s gift."  She plucked at the harp’s brass strings.  "This instrument truly has a lovely sound."  Her fingers coaxed a few notes from the long-idle harp, experimentally at first, but with growing confidence as she grew more accustomed to the feel of the instrument in her hands.  "I'll need to check with someone more familiar with this sort of harp to make sure I've tuned it correctly.  Would Sir Corin know, perchance?  Duchess Catriona was his aunt, was she not?"

   Duncan nodded. "She was, and yes, Corin probably would know.  If not, his father would; I've seen Mihall play a clàrsach before.  I'll try to remember to ask him next time I see him."  A head poked through the open doorway, and the bishop turned to greet the newcomer.  "Brother Everard!"  He made a welcoming gesture.  "Come in."

   "Good afternoon, Father."  The sandy-haired man wearing gray Servant robes entered the room, bowing awkwardly towards Sister Helena once he spotted her sitting on the study floor on one of the Bishop's seat cushions, her back leaning against a wall, the small harp which normally occupied that space now cradled in her lap instead.  "And Sister."  He broke into a shy smile at the sight of her.  "You're looking well."

   "Thank you, Brother," she replied graciously.  "So are you."  She bent her head towards the clàrsach again, adjusting a tuning peg.

   "Yes, yes, can't complain."  He looked at a loss for words for a moment, then added, "Fine day, isn't it?"

   Duncan's eyes met Helena's startled gaze, and he stifled a laugh.  A light cadence of rain drumming on the roof belied the man's statement.

   "I suppose it's a fine day indeed, for ducks at least, though personally I prefer my days drier," Helena answered, a hint of amusement gleaming in her eyes.

   Brother Everard's cheeks turned slightly pink.  "Ah, yes, quite so.  What I meant was, it's raining now, to be sure, but there's sunlight shining through the clouds, and when I looked out a short while ago, I saw a rainbow.  It was quite lovely.  Would...ah...if you'd care to see it...?"  He shifted his weight from one foot to the other, looking uncertain.

   Helena paused in her task, appearing to ponder the question.  Duncan sensed she was looking for some polite way to refuse.  He glanced back at Brother Everard.  "How is Princess Rothana coming along with tallying the accounts?" he asked, knowing that the magistra in question had set aside a few hours that morning for going over the month's-end accounts, and that Brother Everard usually assisted her with this task.

   The Schola's scribe looked briefly blank, then a look of dawning remembrance crossed his face.  He gave the Schola’s rector a sheepish smile.  "Actually, now that you remind me, that’s why I’m here.  Sister Rothana has a question about one of the merchant bills for refectory supplies.  Last month she paid in full a bill for a heavy iron kettle, two large tubs and a pair of tongs.  This month she’s received what appears to be an identical bill from the same merchant, for the same items and at the same cost.  She wants to know if this is a duplicate of the bill that has already been paid, or if the Schola really did order the same items twice, as the merchant is insisting?"

   Duncan raised his eyebrows. "This is the first I’ve heard of it.  Have you asked Brother Cook about the order?"

   "I have.  He says he only placed one order, though he could use another pair of tongs if it’s on offer, and another kettle wouldn’t go unused either if he had it.  He’s not got two sets from the merchant, though, only the one."

   "If Cook needs the extra supplies, he has only to ask, but let’s not pay twice for the same goods if there’s no reason to believe we ordered them twice to begin with, especially if we’ve only received them once.  Is the merchant still here?"

   "I think so, yes, Father."

   Duncan stood.  "All right then, I’ll see if Cook can take a moment to join us in Sister Rothana’s counting room.  I’m sure we can get this sorted quickly enough."  He strode briskly from the room.

#

   Brother Everard perched awkwardly on the end of one of the bishop’s benches, watching her.  Helena wished the man wouldn’t hover.  She glanced back up at him briefly with a distracted smile before returning her attention to what she was doing, adjusting the last couple of tuning pegs and giving the brass strings a quick pluck to check their tone.

   "Can you play that instrument?" the scribe asked her.  "That’s the bean-sagart’s old harp, isn’t it?"

   "The bean-sagart?" Helena asked.  "Do you mean Catriona of Llyr?  It used to belong to her."

   "Well, I don’t know if bean-sagart was what she was called among her own people, but that's what we called her at St. Kyriell's.  She was a priest among her own folk, or so I'd heard, so that's why we called her bean-sagart, a woman-priest."

   "Was she?"  Helena filed the information away for further reflection later.  "So, you've heard it played, then?  I don't suppose you could tell me if I've managed to tune it properly?"

   He shook his head.  "I'm afraid not."  He blushed as he realized his statement might be misconstrued.  "That is, I-I'm afraid I wouldn't know," he stammered.  "Not that I'm afraid you've not done it properly."

   She chuckled.  "Quite all right, brother.  I knew what you meant."  Helena plucked at the strings again, this time feeling more satisfied at the notes it produced.  She tested a few chords, more to have something to focus on than because the harp needed more fine-tuning, for Brother Everard's continued attention was beginning to disconcert her.

   At long last he took a deep breath and broke his silence.  "Sister Helena, would you consider...that is....would you like....

   They heard footfalls heading in their direction.  Brother Everard grew silent again as Bishop Duncan reappeared in the doorway.  "I think we've managed to get things settled satisfactorily," he told them.  Glancing at the flustered Brother before him, he smiled apologetically and added, "I'm sorry, Everard; I didn't mean to interrupt your conversation with Sister Helena. What were you saying?"  He took his seat again, taking up the documents he'd been looking over earlier before Brother Everard's arrival.

   The scribe's cheeks turned pink.  "Oh, it was nothing, Father.  I was just wondering if...if Sister would like to have my kittens."  Pink deepened to crimson as Helena turned a startled gaze up at him, then averted her face suddenly, biting her lip to stifle a laugh.  "I mean...they'd be Pouncer's kittens, of course...she’s been...um...well, let’s just say she’s been quite the busy kitty lately, and I suspect she’ll be growing fat with another litter quite soon, if she isn’t already...ah...in the family way, so to speak."

   Only the deepening of a few laugh lines around Duncan's eyes betrayed his amusement.  "Is that so?  Well, good; hopefully her kittens will make equally good mousers."

   Helena hastily composed her expression, looking back up again.  "Thank you, Brother Everard.  If Sister Therese doesn't object to sharing our chamber with a cat, I'll gladly take one of her kittens off your hands once they're weaned.  Just one, though; I'm afraid the entire litter might be a bit much for me to handle, especially if they all end up taking after their mother.  You might ask Lady Sophie also; I believe she said something recently about her daughter asking if she might be allowed to have a kitten sometime."  She paused, trying to think of anyone else who might be in need of a cat or two.  "I wonder if Ædwige might be interested in having a few at her new home?  Mousers would certainly be a safer solution to her vermin problem than mortweed."

   "Quite so...quite so."

   The silence grew awkwardly between them.  At last, Brother Everard inclined his head towards her, saying "I'll get back to my duties, then."  With a glance at Duncan, he added a respectful "Father..." and a bow before backing hastily out of the study.

#

   As soon as the man was fully out of earshot, Helena leaned her head back against the wall and closed her eyes with a heavy sigh.  "Jesú...I don't need this," she said quietly.

   Duncan's eyebrows rose as he looked up from his papers to glance at her again.  "You don't have to take one of the kittens if you don't want to...."

   She laughed, shaking her head and looking self-conscious.  "No, it's not that.  I would like one of Pouncer's kittens, if she has any, it's just...."  She bit her lip, looking uncertain.  "I've been getting the feeling lately that Brother Everard might be working up to trying to court me, and if he is, I don't want to encourage him."  Her face flooding with color, she added in a rush, "He's a very sweet man, and I certainly don't want to hurt his feelings, but...I'm just not interested."

   "Ah."  Was that a twinge of jealousy that shot through him at the thought of Everard—or any man—trying to court Helena?  If so, he had no right to such possessiveness; she wasn't his, nor could she ever be.  He toyed absently with the parchment he held, schooling his voice to betray nothing but mild interest.  "Simply not interested in Brother Everard's suit, or not interested in remarriage at all?  You're young enough yet, after all, and I'm certain Everard will hardly be the last man to think about calling on you in hopes you'll consider a match."

   She shook her head again, looking quite determined.  "I hope not.  I don't intend to marry again.  Once was enough."

   Duncan frowned.  As much as a part of him would rather not think of this woman leaving to become part of another man's life or, perhaps even more painful a thought, remarrying yet remaining at the Schola where he would continue to work with her daily, forced to bury his feelings even more deeply than he was doing already, he also couldn't imagine her spending the rest of her life closing herself off to any possibility of finding the love and happiness he knew she deserved.  "Helena," he ventured, "there are good men and happy marriages to be had...."

   "Oh yes, I know," she assured him swiftly.  "My parents were quite well suited for each other, and I've known several other couples who are quite blessed in their marriages.  But...I just don't think I could go through it again myself."  She set Catriona's clàrsach aside, drawing her knees up to her chest and wrapping her arms around them.  "At any rate, no man would want me once he knows I'm barren."

   Duncan knew at least one man who would certainly be an exception to that general rule, but as that man was vowed to celibacy, he was hardly in a position to volunteer that information.  "Not all potential husbands are in need of heirs, you realize.  A widower with several children from his first marriage might even be relieved not to have to worry about providing lands and dowry for a second family."

   She shook her head again.  "I nearly took the veil in Joux.  I still consider it now and then, only...."  She shrugged.

   He studied her intently.  "Do you have a true vocation?  There's a difference in taking holy vows because you have a genuine calling, and joining a religious order only because you prefer a life that is simple and safe."

   She blushed.  "I know.  In the end, I chose not to because I didn't think I could commit to spending the rest of my life cloistered.  I suppose for those with a true calling, there might be a certain freedom in that, paradoxical as it might seem to most people, but for me, I suspect it would have been simply  trading one sort of prison for another."

   He nodded.  "Yes.  Exactly.  It's the most satisfying life imaginable for those few who are truly called to it, but for those who are simply looking for a refuge from the world, any relief it might have to offer would be merely temporary, though the vows—for better or for worse—are quite permanent."

   "That was the conclusion I came to also, once I thought it through more fully."  She looked up at him.  "I find the Schola to be the best of both worlds, though."

   He smiled.  "It has the sense of order and security that your soul craves, yet it's not wholly separate from the world, is that it?"

   "Yes, you do understand!"  Her expression relaxed, and she returned his smile with a brilliant one of her own.  "Not to mention that you let me read your books, Father.  How could I ever be tempted to leave all this for just one man...." She waved her hand in a sweeping motion that encompassed his study and continued, "Now that you've introduced me to the likes of Orin, Dom Queron, Father Hristopoulos, Ibn Assad...?"  She continued reading the names embossed in the spines of the books on his shelves, making Duncan grin.

   "Books won't keep you warm in the winter, though," he tried one last time.

   "If they don't, you simply haven't piled them around your bed high enough," she countered. "And they never leave their dirty hosen and braies on the floor for a wife to pick up."

   The bishop laughed, shaking his head. "You win," he said. "I can't possibly counter that argument."


Part Two, Chapter Two--http://www.rhemuthcastle.com/index.php?topic=778.0
« Last Edit: November 18, 2011, 09:26:50 am by Evie »
"In necessariis unitas, in non-necessariis libertas, in utrisque caritas."

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Offline AnnieUK

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Re: Visionaries--Part Two--Chapter One
« Reply #1 on: November 11, 2011, 10:22:05 am »
Would she have his kittens?  *sporfle*!  Poor Brother Everard.  :D

Offline Jerusha

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Re: Visionaries--Part Two--Chapter One
« Reply #2 on: November 11, 2011, 03:48:08 pm »
A very entertaining beginning for Part Two.

Now was that Sister Theresa's assessment of Bishop Duncan's potential as a stud, or a subliminal Evie's?   ;D
From ghoulies and ghosties and long-leggity beasties and things that go bump in the night...good Lord deliver us!

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Offline Evie

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Re: Visionaries--Part Two--Chapter One
« Reply #3 on: November 11, 2011, 04:07:42 pm »
LOL!  Oh, that was Sister Therese's assessment ("All those lovely Healer genes going to waste!"), though I'll have to plead the Fifth as to my own.   ;)
"In necessariis unitas, in non-necessariis libertas, in utrisque caritas."

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Offline Rahere

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Re: Visionaries--Part Two--Chapter One
« Reply #4 on: November 11, 2011, 05:54:47 pm »
What is interesting is settling into a real-world top-level Schola, right down to joining what has to be the world's top Scholasticus study group, at the Warburg. I discount the Vatican 'cos there's no way they could have got into the mess they're in if they had such a group. No such games at all, everyone's professionally friendly and cooperative and the groups are about 50:50.
Next Friday fortnight should be interesting...

Offline derynifanatic64

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Re: Visionaries--Part Two--Chapter One
« Reply #5 on: November 11, 2011, 08:10:02 pm »
OOOH! Duncan has a rival!  A very interesting development.  But Helena has decided that Everard is no Duncan.
We will never forget the events of 9-11!!  USA!! USA!!

Offline Evie

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Re: Visionaries--Part Two--Chapter One
« Reply #6 on: November 11, 2011, 08:22:29 pm »
Yeah, Duncan's never asked Helena if she wants his kittens....  ;)
"In necessariis unitas, in non-necessariis libertas, in utrisque caritas."

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Offline Rahere

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Re: Visionaries--Part Two--Chapter One
« Reply #7 on: November 12, 2011, 01:41:27 am »
That's because he simply cannot believe there's not a reference to cats or kittens in the entire Bible, and he's rereading it to check...

Offline Elkhound

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Re: Visionaries--Part Two--Chapter One
« Reply #8 on: November 13, 2011, 06:07:51 am »
That's because he simply cannot believe there's not a reference to cats or kittens in the entire Bible, and he's rereading it to check...

If you mean the Protestant/Jewish Bible, no there isn't.  There is a reference to cats in the Letter of Jerimiah, which is one of the books that was in the Septuagent (and therefore the RC/Orthodox OT), but was omitted from the final canon of the Hebrew Scriptures.

 


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15 16 17 18 19 20 [21]
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29 30

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