Staring at the blood, Sionna angrily brushed the tears from her eyes. 7 years. 7 years since she had reached childbearing age, and still she was not a mother.
Leaving the outhouse, she stalked past the latest of the men she'd bedded and his queries. The last thing she wanted right now was to see the disgust and disappointment and blame that would follow her failure to conceive.
7 bloody, bloody years... The all-too-familiar knot tightened in her throat and she quickened her pace, turning towards her quarters. Silently she crushed the pain into desperate determination to get inside before she lost control.
"Sionna!" She closed her eyes at the older man's voice. Not now. Not him, not now.She pushed on, pretending she had not heard. "Sionna!" -more insistent now, and no way to ignore the summons. She stopped and turned to face the High Healer.
"No luck then, Sionna," Setanta said. It wasn't a question and she did not acknowledge it except for the daggers behind her eyes. "Next time then."
"There won't BE a next time! It won't ever work!" she screamed. Then he was in her face, his hand pressing hard on her arm, his eyes burning down on her shame.
"You-come with me..." His hand was compelling and she fell into step ahead of him, feeling the stares of Armengar following them across the green into Setanta's quarters. Once inside he thrust her into a seat and turned to stare at her. His face was grim and touched with fury and his words, when they came, were low and quiet, like a rumbling of threatening thunder.
"Sionna-" She shrank into her seat as her mentor spoke her name like a curse. He paused, visibly bringing his emotions under control. "Sionna," softer now, "You are the next High Healer. As such, you cannot be seen to lose contro-"
"How can I not!" she blurted. "The healing hasn't worked. It doesn't work at all!" His hand came up before she could react, and suddenly the tears in her eyes had nothing to do with emotion. Her fingers touched her face, uncomprehending, as she stared at Setanta. In all her years working with him, she had never seen him like this- livid and dangerous.
"You will not say such things again. Ever again. Even in private." His voiced hissed through clenched teeth. "This has been a frustrating time for us both, for all of us healers. I do not know why our healing has not cured you, but never doubt the power. Something else must be wrong." Sionna knew then the anger in his eyes from an as yet unspoken rebuke- his own failure, demonstrated clearly in her continued struggle. And still she could not believe that this man who had nurtured her sense of caring for others had just raised a smarting red weal on her face. The pain inside deepened into a dark resentment.
"You don't understand." Sionna rose to leave.
"Sionna- my little fox..." His voice, soft and caring once more, stopped her at the doorway. "This is not the end of the world. You have served Armengar loyally and honorably since you were first taught to fight. Your service as a healer has been exceptional, and you will be a fine High Healer after I am gone. Do not be so hard on yourself. You have still done your duty to Armengar." She looked back at Setanta, her throat closed over with shame.
"You just don't understand. You never will." Turning on her heel, she fled out into the courtyard to her own quarters. Once inside she shut out the world and flung herself onto the pallet. Head on her arms, she let the sobs rock her body quietly as once again she felt the grief of years. They were quiet sobs, tears that had been shed monthly. It was difficult to remember a time when this pain hadn't existed in her life. What she did remember of it was the happy expectation of being a mother as soon as she was able.
All Sionna had ever wanted was to serve Armengar. She had taken her place on the Wall eagerly. She had been on of the few to realize the lack of healers and to step up to the Wishing Tree to take its sap, and its power, as her own. She had fought the Calebi, she had hunted for food, she had done everything they asked of her! But still, they looked at her with disgust. Because she was... because she was... Say it, damnit.
"Because I'm barren," she cried softly. She lay crying for a time, then rolled over and sat on the edge of the bed. Looking at herself, she saw the black and red of Armengar clothing her body. My weak, broken body...
Suddenly she didn't want to see it anymore- any of it. She didn't want to se the colors, the one of death and the other of her curse. She didn't want to see the children running in the courtyard or working in the fields. She didn't want to see the pregnant girls half her age, delighting in their new motherhood status. She didn't want to see the Tree that stood for healing, yet was a silent reminder to the absence of a cure for her. She didn't to see the many men she'd slept with, each time with a prayer for conception. She didn't want to see the blood that always told her she had failed. But most of all, she didn't want to see the looks of all of Armengar who knew that she could not fulfill her duty to Armengar, that she could not be a mother.
Tears blinded her and she struck out in unbridled rage. She reached out, sweeping the hanging lamp to the ground. Screaming her frustration, she ravished the room, tearing objects apart with her hands, breaking lamps and furniture over her knees. She was havoc, and upon this room she let loose 7 years of impotent rage and bleak desperation.
And then she held her bow above her knees. She blinked, seeing it as if for the first time. Slowly she turned it in her palm, contemplating. She looked up, as if she only now saw the carnage. Shakily, she began to rummage through the shattered, broken, and ruined belongings. Serenely she picked out items from the mess- a pack, quiver, the few unbroken arrows, a cloak, and a few pieces of clothing. Stuffing the pack full, she stepped back to look at what was left of the room. She sighed, and left.
Sionna wasn't an unfamiliar face at the gate. Her hunting trips outside the citadel were frequent and well known. So as she stalked in silence through the Gate, the guards did not question her, or even break in their conversation. She slipped out of the citadel and picked up her pace to a jog. At the edge of the plateau she turned to gaze at the high walls. Then she plunged into Amnor's wilds. She jogged lightly, careless of what might be watching her progress through the trees. She knew her way to the clearing well.
5 years ago, when she had begun to realize that she would never be a mother in Armengar and couldn't bear the stares of its inhabitants, she had wandered to the shore in a fit of misery. An old oak had been split by lightning and its two halves lay side by side pointing to the sea, looking every big as dead as she felt. She had sat on the log near the ocean, oblivious to the rising tide until her feet were gently lifted from the sand.
Startled, she had looked down to find the log she sat on had risen with the tide until it floated. The other half of the tree was rocking gently on top of the waves as well. She looked at the tree halves, out to sea, and then suddenly knew what she should do. Armengar may not have the answer to her barrenness, but perhaps somewhere else did.
So now, she traipsed to the clearing where in the past 2 years, in fits of desperation when hope had fled, she had lashed together fallen tree trunks. She knew the makeshift raft floated and held her weight. An experimental trip into the nearby cove had told her that. It had also convince her that she needed some form of a paddle, and next to the raft now lay a crude plank.
Sionna dropped her pack and began tugging and jerking at the heavy raft. Inching it along, she pulled it into the shallows and splashed out of the water to fetch her gear. Paddle and belongings in hand, she swept the clearing with her eyes and marched to the raft. Belongings deposited, she began to wade into the soft surf, pushing the raft as she went.
She hadn't heard the crackle of twigs and was therefore shocked when her name was called out. Whipping around like a guilty child, she saw her peer, Midir. He stood at the water's edge, cloak billowing, his face full of worry.
"What are you doing, Sionna?" he asked. Her mouth went dry, and she stared dumbly at him. He fidgeted under her gaze and swallowed. "I heard the news. For what it's worth, I'm sorry... Setanta said-"
"Setanta can DIE for all I care!" she cried, immediately regretting the harsh words as the horror crossed his face. "No, I'm sorry. I don't mean it." She sighed and turned to pull the raft back to the beach where it bobbed without pulling away. Sionna climbed out of the waves to stand by the young man.
"I'm sorry," he murmured.
"No, I'm sorry." She reached around him and gave him a reassuring hug. "I shouldn't have said what I don't mean." He looked into her eyes, and nodded. Then he raised his hand to where her face was slowly bruising.
"I could heal that for you," he offered. She grimaced.
"No, I think I'll keep the reminder. But thank you." She looked out at the sea, saw the raft, and bit her lip self-consciously. "I'm going away Midir." She saw him start and reassured him quickly. "It'll only be for a little while. I'll be back so soon it'll be like I never left. I just have to get away from everything. I can't stand it here any longer. I can't take the looks, the..." She sighed, and then perked up. "And who knows, maybe the cure for my curse lays out there somewhere. I'm going to try to find it."
"You're really leaving?" He sounded as if he was in shock. She nodded.
"I have to, Midir." He looked at her, then nodded himself.
"I'll miss you. Come home soon," he said softly.
"I will. And I'll miss you too." Sionna turned to return to her raft, but stopped. Something in her chilled and she looked again at Midir. "Deliver a message to Setanta for me?" He inclined his head. "Tell him that I will return as soon as I have found a cure for myself, and that when I return, I intend to take my rightful place as High Healer." Her voice was harsh, and Midir gulped, but nodded. Then he moved forward and clasped her close.
"Take care, my friend," he murmured in her ear.
"And you." Sionna planted a soft kiss on his cheek and then strode into the ocean's embrace. She pushed out her raft and hopped on, using the paddle to pole herself further out into the sea's currents. She turned back just once, to raise a hand in farewell to her fellow healer. And then she was looking forward as the great expanse of ocean opened up ahead of her and Amnor faded out of her life.
Excitement quivered in her chest as it did on every hunt. She crept forward to stand in the lee of a great tree, searching for quarry. A movement by the tree to her left, and she smiled as she looked at the young man who tensed his muscles as he echoed her movements.
This would be their last hunt for a time, for after tonight, they would be going home. Home. Armengar. Her excitement jumped a notch, and she grinned fiercely. It had been years since she had last seen her homeland, and finally, she would see it once again. She could barely concentrate on the hunt, so great did the expectation fill her breast. A brief flash of memory bubbled up- a raft, a goodbye, and foolish expectations. She laughed silently at herself and her naiveté. She had barely survived when her raft splintered in a violent ocean's storm, washed ashore half-dead, and plucked from the sand by a hermetic healer. She had been lucky to survive, but was consigned to the knowledge that she would never be able to return the same way as she had come.
So she had wandered the world listlessly, searching for a man who could cure her barrenness or magic that could make her conceive. It had been a fruitless search, but she had found Vauban.
The young man moved forward silently, and she watched his movements with a lustful pride. He was her salvation and her cure. His handsome face would grace Armengar beside hers and she was eager to show him the beauty of her home. Vauban had traveled with her for a year and a half now, and she was glad he would be willingly accompanying her to Amnor. She could still remember the moment when they had passed through a Lion establishment and someone had recognized the name Armengar when she had mentioned it. And then the rush of relief and excitement upon learning she could now travel safely home to her people.
It would be so good to return. And with Vauban by her side, she could finally give Armengar another sword, and thus satisfy her last unfulfilled duty to her people. She watched as he hunted their prey, his movements graceful and skilled. She smiled with the intense emotions that filled her. She watched him with a hunter's care, knowing well that she would die before letting him. Emotions that she could not, would not, name flowed, and she stood in the lee of the tree, overcome.
Sionna shook her head, clearing it to refocus on the hunt ahead of her. They were hunting for the ritual of it tonight. They had hunted together and thus survived for so long that she could forget for a time what it was like without him. And so tonight they hunted together to remember the feel of it before they leapt through a circle and were passed to another world, to her home.
She knocked an arrow and crept forward to join Vauban. He glanced her way and smiled. Happiness filled her heart and she smiled broadly back. She was truly going home...