The Azure Rider Ch. 08

In the meantime, Grandmeister Eustace's condition declined steadily, and all of Agatha's herbs, brews and spells could not keep him from flailing about in pain at night. Agatha was unable to leave his bedside when he went into a delirious slumber, and sat nearby, silently shouldering the burden of his pain and terror like any physician devoted to her calling feels impelled to. Towards the end, when he started mistaking her for his mother, Orion laid a gentle hand on her shoulder and asked her if she wanted to leave. Agatha raised her eyes to meet his tired gaze and said that she would see him through the end, and she stuck to her promise, falling asleep on the ground by the foot of his bed, her wrist trapped in Eustace's vice grip. She woke up the next morning to find her cloak wrapped around her shoulders and her hand relinquished by her patient. When she stumbled to a standing position, she found Orion sitting on the other end of the bed.

"He's gone," he mumbled, staring at her with a helplessness that she had never witnessed in his eyes. Agatha walked over to him and seated herself on the armrest of his chair and pulled his head into her chest. Orion clung to her like a lost child, and for a long while, none of them spoke.

Spring arrived with erratic, misty showers and a deluge of colourful arrays of blossoms on the trees lining the outer bailey of the Keep. The snow thawed and the Central Marketplace was suddenly teeming with hawkers and gamblers, pickpockets and fashionably dressed ladies, fortune tellers and pyromancers, all palpably happy to be free of the confines of their homes after a long winter. Agatha was kept busy by a sudden outbreak of cough and cold and runny noses amongst the younglings. Alice Webster gave birth to a beautiful, healthy girl in the maternity wing of the infirmary, and Fred Webster bawled like a little child when he held her in his arms.

Siegel caught up with Agatha as she was hurrying from the kitchen to the infirmary one evening, and asked her if she wanted to accompany him to the spring dance that was to be held that year in the Great Hall. Agatha, who had been aware of such an event but had no plans of attending, declined graciously and continued walking. Meister Erwan was in one of his famously foul moods that morning and she did not want to give him another reason to yell at her.

"I had nearly forgotten how exquisitely breathtaking you look in a dress," Siegel smiled, catching up with her stride and nodding towards the silk gown on her person. "Those breeches make you look like a young Page."

"I am supposed to meet Queen Avelina later this evening for tea," Agatha groaned, a little bit of her exasperation at the meaningless traditions of high society surfacing through her otherwise placid demeanor. Meister Erwan had not been happy when she had asked for the evening off.

"You look very beautiful in this dress, so I cannot complain too much about that," Siegel laughed. "That colour becomes you."

"Thank you," Agatha responded, then revealed, "Jonathan gave this to me a long time ago."

There was a short pause during which Siegel processed this information. "Jonathan? So you mean Orion gave you this?"

"No," Agatha declared, instantly regretting her decision to speak about the origin of her dress. "Orion had nothing to contribute to this."

"I cannot believe that after everything he has done to you, you are still wearing this," Siegel reproached. "Not only this, you also wear the dresses that Archibald Mannering sends you. You should not lead on men like that, Agatha."

Agatha halted in the middle of the hallway and turned to face Siegel. "I am a practical woman, Siegel. If wearing dresses sent by a gratuitous suitor enables me to spend my limited allowance on items that matter to me, then that is what I shall do."

"I am sure Orion or Lord Mannering will not understand that rationale," Siegel persisted. "The woman I knew had too much honour to do this."

"The woman you knew was a child," Agatha snapped, feeling ill tempered.

"Is it really true that he took you against your will or is that a fabrication you conjured to spare my feelings?" Siegel asked suddenly.

"I will leave it to you to decide that. In the meantime, please never talk to me again," Agatha asserted coldly and walked away, vowing never to speak to Siegel again.

***

Agatha received the first indication of Lyla and Sir Blaxton's romantic partnership when the latter paid her an impromptu visit to the infirmary. He talked at length about what an asinine person Sir Alexander was, and how Orion had made a grave mistake by relinquishing the post of Generalship to him, (Orion had meekly started serving in the post of Lieutenant General alongside Sir Blaxton after his return from Regstone.) and how there was virtually no difference between how things were run formerly and now ("I mean, Orion is still doing all of the work and Sir Alexander is still doing all of the talking, only he talks louder than before") and how he could not understand why Orion or men in general often grew lovesick. He ended this effusive monologue with the enquiry: "Pray, have you seen Lyla?"

Agatha informed him that Lyla had gone to her herb garden to secure some of the dried herbs from the shed. Sir Blaxton left the infirmary as far as his legs would carry him. Lyla returned quite late, and her face was flushed and her countenance wildly happy for someone who had simply gathered a few herbs from a garden. This was all the proof Agatha needed, but she stayed silent and did not prod her friend, sincerely believing that Lyla would volunteer the details of their affair when she felt comfortable. She felt exceedingly happy for her, and privately wished her all the happiness in the world.

Agatha wrote to Sira shortly after this, enquiring after her mother's books in the Queen Regent's wing, and when she had nearly given up on a response from her, a carriage drew up in front of the Castle Keep, laden with all the books that Georgina had told her about, with a short but sweet message from Sira, inviting her to visit Regstone whenever she had the opportunity. Agatha was found sitting cross legged on the grass in her garden one afternoon a few days later, with a chunk of graphite in her hand and planks of wood and sheets of glass piled in front of her, squinting furiously at the moth eaten, yellowed pages of one such book.

"You look like that book has offended you personally."

Agatha glanced up, startled by the sudden approach, and found Orion standing by the fenced entrance to her little patch. Agatha scratched her neck, realizing that she would have to ask for his help.

"I am trying to build a glass house for my plants. According to this book, glass houses preserve the temperature and keep plants alive during winter months. I secured the raw materials but unfortunately it seems like there is a page missing from the instructions."

"Mind if I take a look?" Orion raised an eyebrow.

"Of course not," Agatha feigned nonchalance even though she was secretly thrilled.

Over the next few days Orion took charge of her little project, teaching Agatha what she needed to know to help him. He did not talk much, neither did he seem to expect any conversation from her end, and she grew comfortable with the silence, allowing her mind to drift off while she worked. It did not help that her thoughts, as always, increasingly turned towards him, and a few days later, her curiosity got the better of her and she asked him about Lyriel. Orion smiled a little as he hammered a nail into the wood, and Agatha was certain that he would not respond or would tease her dreadfully. To her surprise, he did neither and after a few moments of silence, divulged, "she was my lover during the time I stayed with the Elves. We parted on amicable terms when I left."

"So why did you leave?" Agatha prodded.

"I did not belong there," Orion shrugged. He did not volunteer any more information about Lyriel and Agatha's dignity would not allow her to probe and they continued working in silence after that, a silence that was coloured with a hint of amusement from Orion's side and frustration from Agatha's.

A few days later, when the glass house was nearing its finish, Agatha was found in a foul mood as she hammered nails into wood with uncharacteristic violence.

"I feel sorry for that piece of wood," Orion said mildly.

Agatha eased the intensity of her strikes and grimaced in response.

"What is it?" Orion persisted.

"I sent Kabuta to Central Market to buy me a nightshade sapling from a dealer I had corresponded with beforehand. Nightshade is not easily available in our climes, and I had plans to put it in the glass house. Unfortunately the dealer charged a hefty price and gave him a plant riddled with mealybugs. I would love to go to him and give him a piece of my mind, but his place is close to the brothel and I don't want a reiteration of my last experience there."

"Who are you planning to kill now?" Orion asked suspiciously.

"Nightshade is not just for killing, you know," Agatha said with a touch of asperity. "It is frequently used in sleep potions."

"Are you still having nightmares?" Orion asked with a crease between his brows.

"It's not for me," Agatha mumbled, though that was not entirely true. Despite wearing herself out faithfully with running, horse-riding and sword fighting, she still woke up in cold sweat at times, her heart hammering and her body shivering, her airways choking from an unnamed terror. She tried to count her breaths like Orion had taught her back in the farm house, and that usually helped, but Agatha was becoming tired of waking up in the middle of the night.

The next day, Agatha found three perfectly healthy nightshade plants in terra-cotta pots by the entrance of her garden. She thanked Orion when she saw him next, a strange, unfamiliar emotion seeping its way into her ribs. Her glass house was finished the next day and Orion helped her in moving her plants into it, and transplanting the new saplings into raised beds inside it. Unfortunately the nightshade saplings were still too young to bear fruit, and Agatha was found sitting in the infirmary late at night a few days later, terrified of going to bed only to wake up afterwards.

Meister Erwan found her there when he walked in a little while later, and asked her why she wasn't in bed. Agatha mumbled her predicament to him.

"Well, have you tried valerian?" he demanded.

"Have I tried what?" Agatha asked.

"Valerian, you blithering idiot," he snapped, then padded away to the back of the infirmary, looking for dried valerian roots and muttering things like, "this is what happens when you rely too much on spells", "young people nowadays" and "ignorant imbecile." He set a pot of water to boil and a little while later, offered her a cup of murky tea.

"What you have is a case of excited nerves. Valerian has been used to treat conditions like yours for centuries. Drink this every night before going to bed. Don't you have valerian in your garden?"

"I do," Agatha said, feeling humbled. Valerian grew like weed all around her garden, dying off with the first frost and regenerating themselves every spring. The tea calmed her down almost immediately and a little while later, her eyelids began to droop, the exhaustion of the day finally catching up with her.

"What are you doing here late at night?" she asked.

"I am old, I don't need much sleep. Now off you go," he snapped, shooing her away.

Agatha laid down the empty cup on top of a counter and left. For the first time in half a year, she slept uninterruptedly that night, and when she woke up the next day, she felt more refreshed than she had in a long time.

Summer arrived, bringing an uninterrupted stretch of stunning blue skies and gloriously warm weather. Fauns and pixies started to raid fruit orchards and vegetable gardens across Lohenstraad, and farmers puzzled over how to tackle this entirely new and different type of problem. Agatha spent most of her free time outdoors, riding on horseback or on Elpis, bonding with her Dragon over long flights through the wispy white clouds. She learnt that Elpis was still a baby in Dragon years, and Ice merely an adolescent. It explained why Finthalion's Azure Dragon had been so much larger in stature than Ice, and it also explained why Elpis was still unable to breathe fire.

'Are you sure you will be breathing fire and not ice like the Azure Dragons?' Agatha asked for the hundredth time.

'I am not entirely sure. Father says I might be able to do both, but it will still be half a century before that happens.'

On one such balmy morning, while Agatha was hurrying towards the infirmary after an hour long ride with Elpis, Siegel accosted her in one of the hallways of the Castle Keep. They had been staunchly ignoring each other all this while, choosing to avert eye contact whenever they passed by each other on hallways, but this time he had sought her out to apologise. Agatha listened to him wearily, his fervent apologies beginning to sound all too familiar, and amended, "I will think about it." Unfortunately, Siegel continued to beg, and out of a desire to be rid of him than anything else, Agatha acquiesced to give their friendship another chance.

Lyla opened up to her about her engagement with Sir Blaxton soon afterwards. Agatha, who had known about it for a while, expressed every appearance of joy, and asked them when they were planning to marry. To this, Lyla blushed furiously and declared, "before this winter." Then after a pause, she asked whether Agatha would be her Maid of Honor. Agatha was only too happy to accept.

A few days after this, Agatha received an unpleasant surprise as she woke up in the middle of the night to find Siegel's arms around her.

"What are you doing here?" she hissed, moving the covers and scrambling out of the bed. Siegel tried to hold on to her but she was much stronger than him now.

"I cannot sleep, I miss you so, Agatha," he sighed, sitting up on his haunches.

"How did Kane and Rowan let you in?" Agatha asked suspiciously. Then she rushed out of her bedchamber in her chemise to look for her guards, only to find them sleeping unnaturally soundly by the double doors to her wing.

"What did you do to them?" Agatha demanded, turning towards Siegel, who had followed her all the way from her bedchamber.

"Nothing," he clarified hastily, "just a Sleeping Spell."

"Release them at once," Agatha commanded. Siegel did so dutifully, then left, leaving a general sadness in his wake. Agatha was never a hard-hearted creature and she was almost tempted to call him back on account of pity, but she steeled her heart and reminded herself that she had been with him for the wrong reasons for long enough.

Despite the turmoil in her personal life, Agatha seemed to carry on with all outward appearances of happiness. Ballads were written about the lovely Thistle Rider, whose beauty surpassed that of all women in the nation, and who had gained the favour of both the Elves and the Forgers, and carried their Cloak and Sword respectively as a mark of their favour. (And that was how she had learnt that the cloak Orion had given her was of Elven origin.) Agatha listened to these poems with growing weariness in court and gracefully offered her thanks, her only source of entertainment being an exchange of an exasperated glance afterwards with Orion, who seemed to find the poems and the songs as amusing as she found them annoying. In moving about her day, Agatha noticed that she seemed to cross paths with Siegel more often than before, but she dismissed the thought from her mind. She was too busy preparing for Lyla's wedding, and cared little about ballads or Siegel or for that matter, Orion.

One day, after a particularly unctuous (and inaccurate) song about her beauty, Orion decided to tease Agatha a little after court proceedings were over. They were walking along a hallway, both going towards the Armoury for different reasons.

"Stop," Agatha insisted, trying to rein in a smirk as he quoted a particularly honeyed line from the poem.

"I would, but an Elfling of a frail, delicate disposition with glorious auburn hair seems to have caught my eye," Orion snorted.

"That is a very inaccurate description," Agatha snapped, tucking a lock of her raven hair behind her ear.

"Don't blame him, he probably wrote the song with his own lady love in mind, then put your name in it," Orion explained unhelpfully. "According to one ballad, Penelope could sing like a nightingale. Suffice to say, if she ever attempted to sing, I usually left the chamber."

Agatha laughed at this, then realized that Siegel was walking down the hallway from the opposite direction, fixing the two of them with a baleful glare. He accosted her later in the infirmary, when Lyla was not present.

"I thought you said that you didn't love him?"

"Who?" Agatha asked, momentarily confused by the direction of the conversation as she was trying to measure out dried chamomile into a cup.

"Orion makes you laugh," Siegel stated. "I have never seen you laugh otherwise."

Agatha set the cup down on a counter and turned to Siegel. "That is because he says the most asinine things!" Agatha exclaimed. "And no, I don't love him." On the contrary, this time, talking about Orion did not raise the storm of conflicting emotions in her chest, and Agatha reflected with some happiness that she no longer fixated on him. Her anger with him had dissipated over the last few months, and his betrayal did not rankle anymore, now that she was able to see the effect of acquiring the Disputed Corridor on the society and the economy. Agatha had always been too rational to hold on to prolonged anger, and as her nightmares had eased away with the valerian, so had her bitterness.

"I am simply happy with my own life, Siegel," Agatha asserted quietly. "If you cannot comprehend that, then we have nothing more to discuss." More than happy, she was busy with the infirmary, council duties, potion making, her personal training, and now, Lyla's wedding. Between all of that, she had no inclination to bestow her affections on men she clearly now considered undeserving of it.

Siegel did not seem to understand her rationale, nor did he seem to care, for he turned around and left. The next day, his chambers were empty and he was nowhere to be seen in and around the castle. He had taken most of his personal belongings with him.

Orion was not happy. "Did I just lose my best Wardmaker over a lovers' spat?" he enquired, rubbing his jaw.

"It wasn't exactly that," Agatha clarified, "but I apologize for playing any part in it."

"Not to worry," he reassured her, "I will find another one." Agatha could not help but notice that despite the effort to appear nonchalant, Orion looked distinctly worried.

***

The days leading up to Lyla's wedding passed in a flurry of silks, floral arrangements, menu and venue selection, finalizing the guest list, frustrations over missed deliveries and other obstacles. Agatha barely slept in the week preceding the wedding, haggling with Leowfin Vulfoliac over expenses, determined that her friend have the best of all, and one evening, Lyla walked into the infirmary to find Agatha standing by a countertop and penning down a well worded letter to the wedding band, confirming the date with them for the fifth time and feeling distinctly grumpy about it.

Lyla reached out and laid a hand on her forearm and gently called her name.

"Yes, I'll be done in a minute, can you please give Laurenti his pain medication?" Agatha said distractedly, jerking a thumb behind her shoulder towards the patient in question. Lyla acquiesced but returned to Agatha's side as soon as she was done.

"When was the last time you sat down?" she enquired, laying a hand on her back.