Ten Crescent Moons (Moonquest) (37 page)

"I see."

"She
works closely with us, helping to maintain our archives."

 Adalginza
forced herself to assume a look of dignity.

"I'm
sure Kalos wished to complete his research. That is explanation enough for his
presence at Lady Sagawea's abode."

"Most
certainly." Ginrel gave her a pitying look.

Adalginza
was distracted and troubled as she then followed Ginrel up the stairs.

She realized
now that the fleeting, familiar impression she had received while riding
through the gate had been a brief mindlink with the Golden.

And this
meant the animal was pastured on Lady Sagawea's land. Kalos and Lady Sagawea
were spending much time together, and this deeply disturbed her.

When they
entered Polyper's living quarters the second time, the table had been cleared.
All evidence of food was removed. And Polyper had a look of immense
contentment.

He gestured
for Lady Adalginza to take a chair.

"You
may go, Ginrel," Polyper said. "I trust you have been entertaining
the lady in my absence."

"He has
been most helpful," Adalginza said.

They
exchanged looks, and Ginrel left.

Adalginza
took a seat at the table, and Polyper moved into a chair beside her.

He had a
slightly disheveled look, with unruly thatched hair that had the appearance of
having never seen a comb. He brushed off a few crumbs of food from his robes,
then folded his hands together in front of him.

"Now
then. How may I help you?" As Adalginza coughed, he frowned. "You are
ill again. Do you need a potion?"

"No,
no. The cough is nothing, except evidence that the damp climate here does not
agree with me. I am here because of a personal matter." Adalginza
hesitated. "A matter of the soul, if you will. I would not have come here
at all, except I remember your name from when Medosa spoke of you. I was only a
child then."

"Yes?"

"And he
said that, if ever I had such a need, I was to come to you. That you could be
trusted."

And then she
fell silent.

This was
much harder than she ever thought possible. Adalginza glanced around
uncomfortably. The surroundings were so austere, almost foreboding.

Besides, who
knew who might be listening? It was even possible that Benfaaro had spies
planted even here.

"Is it
possible to speak elsewhere?" she asked.

"Why
don't we walk the grounds where it is more private?" Polyper suggested.
"They are quite beautiful at this season. And the rain has passed for the
moment."

And so it
was that they walked for all of that afternoon. And talked. Nothing of great
importance was said during that time, except the building of trust.

Adalginza
spoke of her love for the Place of the Circles. Of her special bond with
animals, absent of course the revelation that she could actually mindlink with
them. Of the teachings of Medosa. But she never mentioned Benfaaro.

Nor did she
intend to.

Finally, as
the sun began to dip low in the horizon, they finally stopped on the crest of a
hill overlooking a meandering river. Gentle rains came and went, softly misting
their skin.

The only
activity below them was the low, swooping flight of predatory birds looking for
a last meal before it was time to seek a roosting place.

A series of
dormitory style buildings extended throughout the valley below them.

"Perhaps
we should move on." Polyper suggested uneasily. "Back toward the
dome."

"No,"
Adalginza said. "We are alone. And it is time now to ask you my questions."

"Regardless
of what Medosa told you, I may be the man he thought I was. I may not have the
answers."

"The
questions still need asking. I cannot tell you the reasons for them."

"The
questions themselves will very likely reveal the reasons."

Adalginza
took a deep, shuddering breath.

"Then
tell me. What is the worst possible act that one human can commit against
another? Is it murder? Or is it betrayal?"

Polyper
gazed down into the peaceful valley below. He sighed.

"Medosa
was betrayed. And he was murdered. He was much loved here. So these are
questions close to my own heart as well."

"Yes. I
loved him, too."

"Wherever
he is now, I know there is still love in his heart. Even toward the man he foretold
would take his own life. Benfaaro."

At Adalginza's
alarmed look, Polyper smiled sadly.

"Medosa
knew what his fate would ultimately be. Yet, he was very fond of Benfaaro. He
saw within him — greatness."

Adalginza
felt the pain of a certain loss, and realized how much she missed the brother of
her childhood.

 "Medosa
was a gentle man. He demonstrated in every way that he had no intention of harm
toward anyone." A tear trickled down Adalginza's cheek. "And here you
tell me that he forgave and still loved the man he knew would kill him even
before the deed was done?"

"Yes."
Polyper took Adalginza's arm. "But we must be very clear about something,
dear lady. Loving the person is not the same as loving what they do. And loving
another person does not mean that we must do what they ask of us if such a deed
betrays our own heart.
Do you understand
?"

Adalginza
nodded. "At one time, no. But perhaps I do now."

Polyper
smiled gently. "Then Medosa's teachings were not lost on you."

"Medosa
would be ashamed of me." Adalginza dropped her head. "For I have
betrayed my own heart. I have betrayed others. Many times."

"You have
placed yourself in hell?" Polyper asked gently.

"Yes."

"And
you are asking me to release you."

"Yes."

"Through
forgiveness."

"Yes."

"I
cannot."

Adalginza
looked up at him through eyes now flooded with tears. "But why can you not
do this for me?"

"Because
I have nothing to forgive." Polyper dropped his hand from her arm. "Lady
Adalginza, for what has happened in the past, those you have wronged must
forgive you to escape their own hell. The choice is theirs alone. Beyond that,
it is more important that you forgive yourself."

"How?"
Adalginza whispered.

"Betray
your heart no longer, even though it may take you where you do not want to go.
But in those places, you may be led to actions that can help undo past sins."

"Why
should I bother to redeem myself?" Adalginza asked despondently. "Is
not death the final escape anyway?"

Polyper
contemplated the question only briefly.

"No.
You can never escape wrongdoing. Not even in death. People who take their own
lives think this is so. But they are wrong."

"But it
must be a way to escape. It has to be."

Adalginza
heard the anguish in her own voice, for she was so counting on death for the eventual
release of her own sorrow.

"Death is
only a continuation of a life we do not yet understand. And in that new life,
you still must be held accountable. Whatever you seek to escape from here, Lady
Adalginza, will only be waiting for you on the other side."

"No,"
Adalginza whispered. "It cannot be like that."

"Life
is your gift for Eternity. You cannot escape it, and you must make of it what
you will."

"I wish
only peace. For myself. And for others."

"Wishing
and acting upon a wish are two different things entirely." Polyper gave
her a crooked smile. "I understand your turmoil, dear lady. For something
has been placed in my own heart that gives me much pain. I, too, must atone for
a serious act of wrongdoing. It requires of me the sacrifice of comfort. And I
so dearly love my comforts."

"I
don't understand. What is it you must do?"

"I must
go to the frontier to take the place of Medosa among the savages."

"Oh,
Polyper. No. I cannot imagine anything more dangerous. You would be better off
to place a knife to your own throat now, and save those you would teach the
bother."

"Indeed.
I am in a place of safety here." Polyper spread his arms to indicate the
sweet harmony around him. "And love. Why would I feel so compelled to
leave?"

"Ask me
not. I do not understand mystics and their calling. Or why their numbers are so
many in the House of the Eighth Crescent Moon."

"The
calling is everywhere. For all people. They need only listen."

At that
moment, Adalginza caught her breath. She saw in the valley below the familiar,
muscular outline of Kalos. And with him was the tall, willowy figure of a
woman, who was equally familiar.

Adalginza
stood, stunned, as she watched her husband strolling, his head bent in a pose
of intense listening. Then Lady Sagawea reached out, took his hand, and placed
it over the slight swelling of her belly.

She was clearly
with child. His child?

"I am
sorry, Lady Adalginza," Polyper whispered. "Quickly. Let us leave,
before we are seen."

Polyper took
her arm and urged her to step back, as they both dropped over the crest of the
hill toward the dome.

"Polyper,
I have a question for you." Adalginza's voice trembled with sorrow. "We
talked of forgiveness. We talked of redemption. But never did we talk of
punishment. Is this my punishment then? That another woman should bear my
husband's child?"

"Perhaps
your eyes betray your heart."

"What
else am I to think?"

Adalginza
had thought herself incapable of more pain. Yet, the anguish she felt now tore
at her very soul. The moon gods were surely angry with her to show her such a
thing.

She gagged
slightly, feeling faint, as Polyper took her arm to steady her. He pointed to a
path in front of them, leading to the valley below.

"You
can walk this path, straight to the valley. To your husband. And Lady Sagawea.
Find the truth for yourself. The choice is yours."

Adalginza
shook off his hand.

"No,"
she said. "I cannot bear the pain of it."

"The
truth is sometimes painful. But always it frees us."

"No. No
more. I have had enough. In truth, I wish I had never come here."

Adalginza
took the opposite path, leading back to the dome of the gnostics where her
sturmon was now stabled.

Whatever delusional
notions she had entertained of following her heart to a greater destiny had abruptly
vanished.

She wanted
only to escape. To somehow free herself of this newest pain.

Polyper
followed behind her. He walked slowly, breathing hard, as though a heavy weight
burdened his steps.

"Where
will you go now?" he asked.

"Back
to my grandmother's abode."

"What
will you do there?"

"Whatever
she asks of me. You already told me there is no escape in death."

Adalginza stopped,
and waited for Polyper to catch up to her. Her eyes pleaded with him for
understanding.

"My
grandmother offers me sanctuary. She offers me security."

"She
tells you what to do."

"At
least she gives me purpose. I no longer know what my own heart says, for it is
badly in need of mending."

Polyper
looked as though he were about to say something, then stopped himself. Finally,
he nodded gravely.

"The
choice is yours alone."

***

As a child
growing up in the Place of the Circles, Adalginza once owned a doll Medosa had
fabricated for her from coarsely woven cloth stuffed with straw.

She had
treasured the doll, adorning it with colorful clothing that Lady Donzala
sometimes fashioned from scraps of discarded material.

The doll's
hair had been shaped from the cuttings of Adalginza's own hair. Its eyes were
made of precious stones, green and clear. They stared, lifeless, always in the
same direction.

As a child in
happier days, Adalginza delighted in braiding the hair of the doll, dressing
her, and pretending that the lifeless object instead was a lady of fashion in a
royal court in a faraway land of her own imaginings.

Adalginza
was now that doll.

With her
health fully recovered and her husband lost to another woman, Adalginza
complacently allowed Lady Swiala to do as she wished with her long-lost
granddaughter.

Even the
cough she once had disappeared, as though too much effort was required to
indulge the illness.

Besides,
Swiala insisted on perfection in all things. Even health.