Torgan Wine Ch. 55

My thanks to Nthusiastic for her help with editing, beta reading, and making good suggestions!

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"How can she sleep in the carriage?"

Isonei was roused from her sleep by Oberath's grousing, but only barely cracked her eyes open.

"Let my sister sleep. She'll entertain you again when she wakes, she's had a hard journey." Ivorith murmured and adjusted the way she leaned against him slightly.

"She doesn't travel well," Ximesra hissed. "Master Krouth said she needed as much rest as possible on our journey and that I shouldn't allow anyone to wake her unnecessarily. She's delicate and prone to headaches. The journey to Torga was so stressful she took ill and nearly died of a fever."

"My mother gets terrible headaches." Oberath was looking at her with a frown as she opened her eyes wider. "How are you feeling?"

"I don't have a headache, but I'm so tired..."

"Go back to sleep," Ximesra insisted quietly, "Oberath can ride on top of the carriage if he can't-"

"You must have been an excellent servant." The sharp expression on his face as he interrupted her was so much like Andnaeuth's that Isonei sighed.

"How often does your mother accidentally call you by your brother's name? Even with your hair and skin dyed, when you make certain faces you look so much like him..." She curled closer to her brother. "And Ximesra was always more of a friend than a servant, but she performed the duties she was given exceptionally."

"Thank you, Isonei." Ximesra gave Oberath a cutting look. "If he's like his brother you might reconsider seeing this Andnaeuth in Ara."

"I am." Isonei lifted her hand and waved it at Oberath's hurt expression, "Not because I don't like you, I do, and I'm very fond of Andnaeuth, but if he's a close cousin, the son of my mother's sister, it wouldn't be right."

"I think he expected you to know, and because he isn't of our mother's House it wouldn't be looked down on so terribly." Oberath winced as if realizing what her next question would be.

"Why are you of-"

"Don't ask." Ivorith elbowed her.

"No, she's family she can know." Oberath inclined his head slightly. "When I was born my father refused to acknowledge me as his own. My mother was accused of trying to pass off another man's child as the son of the King and banished from Court, the Arrangement was dissolved."

"Why would he do such a thing? You look so much like your brother..."

"My eyes, Isonei. All members of the royal House, House Lunedelis, have eyes the color of my brother's. It's been that way for centuries. My grandfather believed my mother and took us in. He gave me a name since my father refused, it's from an old story House Neriris tells..."

"Obnerath and the Old Woman. I've read it. He was the God of jests and the ringer of bells."

Oberath stared, opening and closing his mouth twice. "Yes, he wanted to be certain there was some joy in my life. I would like to see the book you found it in, is it in Ara?"

"No, it should be traveling with us. The book of Aran myths was a gift from Daga Caeridith, it's priceless and very old. It was a gift from the daughter of Caeridith, who married the Aran King, to her brother Hesh-Caeridith."

He stared in silence again for a long moment, "People give you impressive gifts."

"They do, and I'm immensely grateful." She gave him an impish smile, "If it will keep you from being bored to tears while I sleep you can ask Daga Liadith if the book is somewhere you can get to it easily and read it to entertain yourself. I do have to warn you to be very gentle with it."

"If you hurt the book it will hurt you back," Ximesra added quickly. "It makes me very glad that I didn't drop it when I was reading it to you in Torga, Isonei."

"It has certain protections on it to help preserve it." Isonei inclined her head with a rueful smile. "I wasn't aware of them when I asked you to read it to me, but I trusted you to be careful with a book so valuable."

"I give you my word, I will be careful with it." He pushed the carriage door open and leaned out precariously, "Daga Liadith?"

Isonei closed her eyes and let herself slip back into sleep, ignoring the conversation as her brother stroked her head.

"Are you so tired, daughter of Liadith?" Zenaethe Lothlaerith's gently teasing voice made her open her eyes to the sight of his sitting room.

"I am. How is my father?" She straightened, sitting up next to him instead of embracing him.

"He's being tended to at an inn near the baths. I'm told his fever comes and goes but there are healers that visit and someone is with him at all times."

"He isn't with you?" Isonei looked at him incredulously.

"He's Aran, it wouldn't be-"

"I'm Aran!" Lurching from his sofa she spun and faced him furiously, "He's my father! Why wouldn't you keep him close and take care of him?"

"He wants to take you back to Ara!" Lothlaerith came to his feet with a scowl. "A daughter does not leave Leria. I know you're Aran, but now that you have taken your place as a daughter of Liadith you are to remain!"

It felt as if the air had been forced out of her lungs, and she could see the sudden look of doubt on his face as his green eyes dulled. She sucked in air and let certainty take root, "You... I've just escaped from one man who wanted to keep me from my home and my family, I won't... I won't run to another."

"Isonei, I have waited... you know my name." He reached out to take hold of her but she stepped back. "This-"

"I remember the moment I realized I wasn't what Draeseth wanted, that he wanted me to be someone else. I dismissed it as my imagination. When I look at you now I see it again, Daga Lothlaerith. I give you my word I'll never speak your name without your permission. I will keep my word to you if you require it, my Daga will offer me to you first. But I will never choose to stay with anyone who tries to make me into someone else, or who would refuse to allow me to return home."

The icy look of displeasure she remembered from the first time she met him settled over his face. "Your home is with Liadith."

"It is, but I have two. My home is with Liadith and it's also in Ara. My heart has been split in two and it needs to heal. My Daga understands-"

She woke with a jolt and blearily rubbed her eyes. "I need to speak to my Daga."

"We should be at the inn soon." Ivorith gave her a concerned look. "You were sleeping more deeply than I've ever seen."

Isonei shook her head, "Stop the carriage. I need to speak with him now."

"Oberath?" Ximesra nudged the man seated next to her but he didn't look up from the book he was reading.

"Let him read," Isonei sighed and tried to stand.

"I will tell him." Ivorith gently pulled her back down and pushed open the door. "Stop the carriage. Isonei needs to speak to Daga Liadith, immediately."

The carriage came to a stop and Isonei allowed the baffled-looking driver to help her alight.

"Isonei? Is something wrong?" Daga Liadith encouraged his horse closer.

"May I ride with you? I need to talk to you. It's... it's important."

"Of course." He looked to the driver, "Help her."

The driver gave her a boost and she murmured her thanks as she took the Daga's offered hand, perching sideways in front of him.

"Talk to me, Isonei, what's so urgent that it couldn't wait another hour until we arrive at the inn?"

"The dreams... are they real?"

"Yes. I told Lothlaerith he should wait and speak to you when we arrived. I take it he was impatient?" Daga Liadith gave her a wry smile.

"Yes. We quarreled. I-he-my father..." She stumbled over her words as she tried to voice her jumbled thoughts and let the Daga pull her head against his shoulder.

"Calm yourself and tell me. What happened?"

"He was teasing me about being tired and I asked about my father. I learned he isn't staying with Daga Lothlaerith. I was-was..."

"Upset, because you expected him to treat your father as he would treat you."

"Yes. He said my father wasn't staying with him because he's Aran and because my father wants me to come home to Ara. Daga Lothlaerith said 'a daughter does not leave Leria.' I think he wants to forbid me-" Her panic and anguish came out in her voice even though she was trying to calm herself.

"Shhhh, shhh sweet girl. There is no gate in the south. I am the only one who could insist you stay and I would never do that to you. I know how important it is to you to be able to move between your homes. It would be as if your match refused to allow you to return to Liadith."

She took a deep breath relaxing against him and wrapping her arm around his waist. "I gave him my word I would never speak his name without his permission, and I told him I would keep my word and have you offer me to him first, but I just escaped from one man who wanted to keep me from home and family and I would not choose to stay with another one." There was a long moment's silence. "My Daga? He wants me to be someone else. Draeseth wanted me to be a Torgan woman and I think Daga Lothlaerith wants me to be a Lerian woman."

He exhaled heavily, "He has made disparaging remarks about the way we in the south welcome Arans in the past. They're not fond of foreigners in the north, Lothlaerith especially. They had greeted the Phaethian Prince warmly when he came claiming he wanted to establish trade and friendly relations. That betrayal has colored their view of anyone who isn't Lerian."

"If he can't see the difference between Arans and Phaethians why did he ever want to be my match?"

"You're the daughter of Liadith. That means more than your race does to any of the Dagas."

"I don't... my Daga, I-" Closing her eyes she tried to keep back the tears that were suddenly burning her eyes and swallow the lump in her throat.

"Daga Velarith said you doubted your own judgment."

"Yes. The two men I most wanted were so..."

"I'll help you choose." He kissed her head. "And I'll speak to Daga Lothlaerith. If you both feel the match is wrong I would not have you offered."

"Thank you, my Daga, but I gave him my word and I should keep it unless he releases me from it."

"I understand. When we arrive in Oyeth Lothlaeri tomorrow I will need to see him. Do you wish to come with me?"

"I want to go to my father. He needs me. Even if Daga Lothlaerith still requires me to be offered it won't be now or even soon. I need to go home and I need to heal."

Daga Liadith squeezed her and pressed his cheek to her head. "Agreed." He paused, "How long will you stay in Ara?"

"I don't know, but I give you my word it won't be years before I come home to Liadith again."

"Arissa and I are expecting our first child in the month of Obris. We would like you there."

"My father used to bring me to Leria in the month of Obris." She tilted her head up with a smile, "That's the perfect time, I can come home and help with the baby. Do you have names chosen already?"

"We do, but it would bring ill-luck to speak of them before the birth."

"Perhaps that's what I did wrong." Isonei laid her head against his chest again.

"I need to teach you the old rules. There are some gifts that are very meaningful, and some you never give for that reason. There are also some things you never speak of and some places you never go."

"What places?"

"You never go into the sea, or out on it, and for most of us, we never leave Leria. You always have." He sounded pensive.

"I've waded in the Sea of Glass too, and father took me out on a boat. The water is clear even almost a mile from shore. It didn't look deep at all but they dropped a line down to show me."

The Daga turned her face up to his and she could see the worry in the tightness of his jaw, "Promise me you won't do that again?"

"But, my Daga-"

"Promise me." His eyes cleared and brightened as his face set into a scowl.

"I promise, I won't wade into the sea again and I won't go back out on a boat either." Isonei put on a deliberately meek expression, "But if there's seawater in a pool, could I-"

He sucked his lips against his teeth and pushed her head back, "As long as the pool is separated from the sea. There are stories of Daga's children being drawn down into the water and drowned by an unseen hand."

"Udnerath does that sometimes," she winced, "they say he takes people to keep him company. The stories say he turns them into the dancers. You see them from the shore leaping and playing in the sea. They follow ships and they've been known to rescue sailors."

"Stealing away a Daga's children is too much to bear. I beg you not to take needless risks."

"Yes, my Daga. I like the sea, but I love you. I'll confine my wading to the pools when the tide has gone out."

"Thank you. Do you intend to go to the sea? I thought your father's house was more inland?"

"It is, but I may visit my sister and if father needs to go to Eshho on business I never miss the chance. I wish I had the book my sister sent me, I could show you how beautiful it is."

"The things the Sons of Mun salvaged and brought may still arrive on the last caravan of goods and wealth from Torga. Your father may need a few days to recover enough to travel, they may even arrive before we leave."

"That would be lovely. I'm not sure what was left to salvage. My Aunt Illion's ring that my father gave me, and the book... Draeseth may have let Xagorath bring the glass wreath he made for me."

"I was told they began dividing up your gifts almost immediately."

"Yes. King Orgath was very unhappy with me and he knows what gifts mean to an Aran. He wanted me to be hurt and offended, so I tried to be as gracious as possible."

"The Aran version of spitefulness." His lips twisted in amusement.

"Father would have enjoyed reading the thank you note I wrote to the King. I look forward to telling him about it."

Daga Liadith laughed, "Only an Aran. I've never understood how a thank you could be wielded in spite. You should explain that to me."

"It isn't difficult. If someone has stopped being hospitable the reminder of each kind and expensive thing they've done or given is going to needle them. An angry thank you is painstakingly thorough and if there's anything that you know they wish they had refrained from doing on your behalf you thank them most profusely for that." She gave him an impish look as he grinned broadly. "But the most important part is to close with a wish for them that could be either a blessing or a curse."

"Arans. You are so deceptively sweet!"

"We're not deceptive! We simply value good manners."

Laughing again he hugged her close, "You do, but you are deceptive. You're like shrubs that hide their thorns with masses of sweet-smelling flowers."

The memory of Daga Lothlaerith calling her 'little thorned blossom' made her heart sink for a moment and she fell silent.

After a few moments, the Daga spoke quietly, "The inn we will stay in tonight is one you visited on your way to Oyeth Lothlaeri. I heard nothing but praise for you from the innkeeper when I spoke to him."

"Oh. Master... Gwathe I think was his name? He was very kind. He did the best he could under the circumstances and I enjoyed meeting the children. His breakfast was very nice, I'm very fond of the egg pockets."

The Daga smiled faintly and nodded. "He regrets allowing you to continue with the Torgans. Master Gwathe said he had a feeling he should have separated you from them, not only for the night. Master Tarlethe from the inn closer to home also regretted not defending you. He said when you sent him with his wine to me, you might have been hoping I would command you back at once. What Draeseth said to you was inexcusable."

"He never told me all of what he said, and from the way he explained himself, I thought when he said 'conqueror' he meant 'champion'. I ignored every warning my Daga."

"Love does that, sweet girl. I spoke to the elder Dagas at length. My father teased me for coming to speak to them almost daily. He said I spoke more to him after death than before."

Isonei tried to stifle a laugh, "I miss him. I miss being in the crypts. It was too quiet at first but the more time I spent the more I enjoyed it."

"It was less quiet when you were there. I told father that you wanted your ashes divided, he was adamant that you shouldn't be burned."

Isonei looked up at him incredulously, "He doesn't want me to rest?"

"If you're restless you can become one of the veiled priests. It seems a fair trade, your Aran family has had you to themselves for so long, your Lerian family should have you in death."

"If I agreed to that and took a match, would I end up in a stranger's crypts?"

"He wouldn't be a stranger, sweet girl."

"I might agree to it for your father, but not for anyone else. And my Aran family would be upset if I wasn't going to be put in the mound with everyone else."

"What mound?" Onsh-Velarith piped up moving his horse closer. "I don't understand."

The Daga gave him a sharp look for eavesdropping, but Isonei smiled faintly, "Every House or family has a mound, our ashes go inside it when we die. When it's full a new one is made and the door to the old is sealed but it takes hundreds of years to fill one."

"They're just... dumped?" Onsh's lip curled as he looked at her in horror.

"No! We have special urns. They fit together. Some are carved or gilded, and some are very plain, but they all share a certain shape." She tried to show with her hands how they interlinked. "I got to see them when my grandfather was put inside. It's very beautiful, like a-a wall or a foundation that our family is built on. No two urns were the same."

"That does sound beautiful." Onsh nodded slowly, "Very meaningful."

"It is."

"Your father would not be pleased if I suggested you stay in our crypts when you die." Daga Liadith smiled wistfully.

"No, I would have to be the one to ask, and if it were our crypts I would consider it. When a body is lost at sea they take something that was dear to that person and put it in the urn instead. If my father was given something he could put into the mound he would be comforted." Isonei returned his smile ruefully, "I could rest with your father or with mine, but not with anyone else."

Onsh snorted, "You may feel differently when you're matched and have a new Daga."

"A daughter doesn't change Houses. If I'm ever matched and have to look to a new Daga, it won't change what's most important. I will always be Isonei of House Ernelis, daughter of Liadith and I will return to my family to rest." She leaned to look at Onsh-Velarith pointedly, "Any match would have to understand that. I will not be kept from my home, even in death."

"He means, sweet girl," Daga Liadith tilted her face up, "that your home may change."