Medice Ceres

Chapter 12

Waithe shook his head as they left Woodwald behind. "People fear what they do not understand. There would be no convincing the old man, his mind was set. And you may have been revealed in the attempt."

Her cheeks reddened and she raised her voice. "It is not right! The Taint cannot be spread like a fever. We should be helping those struck down, not shunning them!"

"My caring Ceres, you speak truly. But we would have gained little and risked everything. For now your identity must remain hidden."

A green light appeared above Waithe's head and bounced around him. He pointed up. "See, even Phy agrees with me."

She gritted her teeth and shot Phy a glare, but said no more. Waithe could tell that she was not convinced, not that he much blamed her. Irrational fears would spread along with the Taint, and surely violent unrest after that. And there was no reason to think it would end there. He shuddered at the next logical step, widespread desperation that would lead to the end of the peace hard-won by the Treaty of Lands. Her quest became more urgent each day, but she should not risk it over the ignorance of an old tavern owner.

Signs of the Taint began to appear along the narrow road as they continued. Dark streaked wilt gripped much, but not yet all of the flora. Phy muted her normally energetic antics and hovered close by, matching Ceres' solemn mood. They approached a small village of perhaps three dozen thatch-roofed houses, about half of them appeared to be abandoned.

Waithe whispered, "Ceres, tell Phy to hide lest you be discovered."

Phy did not heed his warning. Instead, she raced about the houses and the wilted gardens behind them, circling back and forth. Waithe sighed and put a palm to his forehead as a small crowd gathered to gaze at the strange green light. Some looked on in wide-eyed wonder, others with suspicious narrowed eyes as they exchanged quiet words. Phy danced above a young dark haired girl with copper-colored skin, perhaps seven or eight years old, with a scar across her forehead. A grin lit up the girl's face at the sight. With no more reason to conceal herself, Ceres pulled back her hood.

A dark-haired woman in a long tattered dress came up to Ceres and bowed. Her hand clutched the hand of the girl, but was barely able to hold on as the girl jumped in glee toward the gyrating Phy. "Welcome, my Lady. What brings you to our humble village?"

"We pass through on our journey. I could not help but notice that the Taint curses this land. How long ago did it begin?"

"Hardly a fortnight, my Lady. And already most have fled."

Ceres turned toward Waithe, who sighed again and gave her a reluctant nod. She dismounted from her horse and faced the woman. "What say you that I purge this foul Taint?"

The woman's face brightened. "Be it possible? We have little to offer you in return."

"This is my purpose true." Ceres turned to the little girl, still mesmerized by the dancing green light. "The Spirit Phy likes to play with you, little one. What is your name?"

The woman answered for her. "It be Eira, my Lady. She be mute. Lost she was, starving and wandering alone, no sign of her family. I took her into my house and gave her a name."

Ceres nodded as she sat down on the ground cross-legged. Phy settled into one of her outstretched hands. She held out the other hand to the little girl. "Well, Eira, would you like to help me? I would also call Dal, the Life Spirit of animals. I think she would like you as well."

Eira nodded enthusiastically, taking Ceres' hand and sitting down before her. Ceres said, "I would have you think happy thoughts to help me with the Magic."

Ceres closed her eyes and began to hum softly as Waithe came up behind and gently put a hand on her shoulder. Many of the villagers gathered around in a large broken circle.

Dal's amber light appeared above her. Phy rose to join her fellow Spirit and they danced about to Eira's continued delight. Ceres smiled, but kept her eyes closed. The shimmer enveloped her and Eira as the Magic came forth. The crowd backed away from the spreading sparkling lights, but it quickly passed them by and covered the land. Dal and Phy raced about in ever-widening circles. Soon the Taint rose from the land as a dark lazy mist.

Waithe smiled, partly at the disappearing Taint but mostly in happy anticipation of a vision. He was not disappointed. His daughter appeared to him in his mind. 

The little blue-gray eyed girl, not yet a year old, sat in her mother's lap and searched for her father, her eyes darting back and forth. "Where did your father go, little Aala?" cooed Fera. He jumped into view from behind a chair, sending Aala into fits of joyful squealing laughter. Again and again, they played this game.

Waithe felt that Ceres shared his vision and joy. But there was another who now also shared it. The little girl? How did she too?

As the dark mists dissipated, wilted plants greened and lifted. The gardens became lush with vegetables and orchards with fruit. Dal and Phy then disappeared. The dark-haired woman put her hands to an open mouth and tears of joy came to her eyes.

Ceres took a deep breath and opened her eyes. "We did it, Eira!"

Waithe helped Ceres to her feet and asked of the dark-haired woman, "Would there be a place where the Lady may rest?"

"Of course. Come to my house. I will bring a chair onto the porch. She may rest in the shade."

As Ceres sat down, Waithe noticed several of the men whispering together, sometimes casting furtive glances their way. An uneasy feeling came over him. Then they disappeared from view. Small arms around his waist distracted him as Eira hugged him. Warm memories again came of his own lost daughter.

The dark-haired woman reached to pull the girl away, but Waithe waved her off. He bent down and hugged her in return. "Well thank you, little Eira. You do an old man's heart good."

Seven men emerged to surround Waithe and Ceres, bearing knives and staffs. Waithe jumped up and put a hand to the long knife at his waist. Twisted expressions expressed malicious intent. Waithe assessed that these men were not skilled fighters, but with so many, his survival in a fight was unlikely.

The dark-haired woman jumped in front of Waithe. "Finn, what be the meaning of this?"

One of the men, brandishing a chipped long knife, stepped forward. "Stand aside, Mary. This Lady has a sizable bounty on her head."

She yelled at him. "She be of the Order! Did you not see the great blessing she gave us? Be you so thankless?"

He pulled her away by the arm. "The reward be enough to restore our town, her crimes must be great for such an amount. Now be gone!"

Waithe drew his shiny long knife and waved it before the men, casting a contemptuous sneer at them. "Who wishes to die first?"

Ceres rose and put her hand on his arm. "No, Waithe. We will find another way."

He took several deep breaths and grit his teeth. In a lightning-quick move he threw the knife and embedded it deeply in a porch post. The man nearest it jumped back with a yelp. The men led Waithe and Ceres away to a shed. The door slammed shut behind them, the sound echoing off the stacked rock walls. A long wooden pole fell across the door, barring it closed. Ceres sat down on the floor and pulled her knees in to her chest. Mary protested loudly outside until one of the men apparently hefted her up and carried her away.

Waithe called out to one of the men who stood guard at the door. "Who would pay such bounty for this Lady?"

The man replied, "Ones clothed in black. But what does it matter as long as the money be good?"

The man's words struck Waithe. The Medice Guards may indeed post a bounty, but they would not be so secretive nor would they wear black uniforms. This must have been the same group that tried to abduct her days earlier in Delta. And, no doubt, soon again would they come back to claim her.