The God-Stone War

Chapter 19

That evening arrived after a day that had gone on too long. Though I had started the day with every intention of trying to enjoy the festive atmosphere, the underlying reason for the celebration still bothered my conscience. I was looking forward to the wine that would come with the feast. Once we were past the toast itself, I could relax and try to pretend that it was simply another holiday. The alcohol would be a welcome way to take the edge off of my nerves.

The hall itself was full to bursting with people. When we had restored the castle, I had had it built with what seemed to be more than enough room, but on days such as this one, it felt cramped. Penny often told me that this was not such a bad thing. If it were large enough for everyone on big holidays, then it would seem overlarge the rest of the year. She also subscribed to the notion that not being ‘quite’ big enough to hold everyone, made a holiday feel more special. Something about the feeling of being elbow to elbow with everyone.

I was pretty sure she was just plain wrong. The damn place needed to be a bit bigger. As soon as you enlarge it more people will show up and it will be too small again, I thought to myself pessimistically.

The walls were bedecked with flowers and garlands, and the stone floors had been swept and fresh straw and fragrant grasses scattered, to give the hall a pleasant smell. Everything seemed bright and beautiful, which seemed an ironic contrast to the fact that we were, in fact, celebrating an epic slaughter. It’s a good thing I chose the spring to do my butchery. We didn’t have a good holiday for this time of year before that, I thought bitterly to myself.

A hand on my arm broke me from my reverie. Glancing over I saw Penny’s eyes on me. She knew my moods better than anyone. Without a word, her touch and knowing look communicated her sympathy to me, along with a gentle message to ‘snap out of it’. Her empathy had limits; if I continued to sulk she’d give me hell later.

I gave her my best smile and rose from my seat, doing my best to project warmth and cheer to all whose eyes were now fixed firmly upon me. “I would like to thank you all for your efforts to make this a happy occasion,” I said loudly, addressing the entire room. “As you know we have more to worry about this year than we have in years past, but I am confident that if we continue to work together, we will come through this crisis just as we did the event that led to this celebration. Before we begin the feasting and drinking, we will have our traditional first toast, to be given this year by our good Lady Rose, at her request. If the servers will bring in the wine, we can begin!”

The kitchen doors opened, and the staff began circulating through the room, bearing ewers of wine, filling each cup. As they did Penny touched Moira on the shoulder, and my daughter hurried from the room. Matthew watched her go enviously, while Conall hadn’t a clue what was occurring. Little Irene was being kept in the nursery. I glanced at Penny, a question in my eyes.

“She’s fetching your cup for the feast,” she said in answer to my unspoken query.

“Ahh,” I said in sudden understanding. Idly I watched Moira’s progress with my magesight while half listening to Rose’s introductory speech. My daughter was met in the kitchen by Peter, who handed her a small silver tray bearing a bottle of wine and two silver goblets. I could tell by her posture that she was excited by the responsibility, and Peter patted her on the head after carefully passing her the tray. After she left him, I noticed that she stopped behind the door for a moment. That little scamp, she just stole a drink from my cup! I couldn’t help but smile. What child doesn’t want to know what their parent’s drink tastes like? I could sense her face crinkling in disgust after her sip.

As Moira emerged from the kitchen and approached the table, Rose motioned toward her, “As a gesture of peace and goodwill, even as we remember that bloody day, King Nicholas was gracious enough to gift us with a bottle of Dalensan Instritas, one of the finest, and since the war, rarest, vintages from Gododdin. While there isn’t enough for all of us, our good Count and Countess will be using it for the toast tonight in acknowledgement of the peace that now exists between our two nations.”

I had to hand it to her… Rose knew how to manage a crowd. Her skillful speech had put a thoughtful face on most of the crowd, although I did hear one person in the back muttering about ‘damned Gododdin wine’. Moira approached me with a look of serious concentration, determined not to spill the wine on the tray before her.

“I brought your wine, Father,” she said as she set the tray down on the table. With a flourish that must have been rehearsed, she picked up the first cup and handed it to me. “This one is for you, Father… and this one for you, Mother,” she announced as she passed each goblet to us. After we had taken them, she curtsied and moved back to stand in her place beside Penny. My heart swelled with pride to see her so graceful in front of the crowd.

Rose’s voice rose majestically as she spoke, emphasizing her movement as she lifted her goblet, “Raise your cups, for peace and remembrance… for those that sacrificed that we might be here today, for the blood that was shed for us, and the lives that were lost! Raise your cups that we might never forget the price of the peace we now enjoy! Raise your cups for the man that defends us still, and drink in the certain knowledge that we will defend him and his honor to the last! Drink to our most noble lord, the Count di’Cameron, Mordecai Illeniel!”

As her speech rose to a crescendo, her eyes met mine, and I was surprised to see tears in them. Looking past her to Dorian, I noticed his own eyes were wet as well. I felt unworthy to see such devotion in their gazes, but everywhere I turned I saw it echoed… even in my own family’s faces. A deafening roar drowned even my jaded self-doubt, as every man and woman in the hall shouted out their agreement.

A wave of love and affection from the people I had striven so hard to preserve and protect washed over me, and I found myself moved to tears even as I returned their gesture. Turning my cup up, I downed it in one long draught before setting it aside to stare at the noisy crowd of people, my people. “I don’t deserve this, but from my heart I thank you all,” I answered them; though it was doubtful that any beyond the closest could hear me. My throat had become choked with emotion.

Returning to my seat, I waved for everyone to sit down. I studiously ignored the smiles of my friends, as I wiped away my tears and pretended to look for the food. My task was made more difficult, as first Penny and then each of my children insisted upon kissing me on the cheeks. And people wonder why I hate this damn holiday.

Rose leaned across the table to whisper close to my ear, “I meant every word, lest you think I was putting on a show, but I still think you’re an ass for making my husband continue his patrols.”

My eyebrows shot up in surprise at her remark, and for a moment my heart relaxed. For some reason, while all the praise and adulation had made me more anxious, her honest complaint eased my tension. I gave her my most genuine smile of the evening, “That is an unfortunate consequence of the responsibility I have taken as the Count di’Cameron.”

She nodded in understanding. Lady Rose Thornbear might not agree with my decision, but she did understand the position I was in as liege lord. She had been born to such authority after all; she knew it as well as any.

“I think that was the best toast we’ve had since we began these holidays,” Penny told me from where she sat beside me. “Rose certainly has a way with words.”

My lips quirked into a half smile. “When she knows she can use them to embarrass someone, she will go to any length to accomplish that goal,” I replied.

My lovely wife laughed, “I told you she’d find a way to punish you.”

I nodded in agreement, “At least the worst is over. Now we can relax and enjoy some wine. My nerves could certainly use another cup.”

Penny reached for the bottle, and began to fill my goblet, but as I reached for it a wave of mild dizziness washed over me. Placing my hand against the side of the table in an attempt to steady myself, I put my other hand against the side of my head, “Whoa…”

My wife’s brows furrowed, “Are you alright? Do you sense something?”

I waved my hands at her, “No, I’m fine. Just felt dizzy for a moment. That wine may be more potent that I realized.” I took a sip from the goblet in my hand. It didn’t taste particularly strong, but then the best wines generally didn’t.

“You never have been able to hold your drink,” Dorian teased from where he sat beside Rose.

Opening my eyes wide, I responded gleefully, “Oh really? You are going to lecture me on drinking? Perhaps the ladies here would like to hear about your first time with a full tankard of ale in your belly.”

Dorian’s face pinked in a subtle blush. He knew I had him at a disadvantage. “Well now let’s not get ahead of ourselves my friend. There’s no need to go delving into ancient history now.”

Rose had lifted one eyebrow in interest even as Penny chimed in first, “I for one would love to hear this story.” Lady Rose nodded her head in agreement.

“I think we were… what was it Dorian, fourteen perhaps?” I said to my friend, while he tried to look busy refilling his own cup.

“Fifteen,” he corrected.

“So we were,” I agreed happily. “We snuck into the ducal wine cellar. Marc had stolen the keys from the cellar-master, and while we were down there we found a freshly tapped keg of spring ale. For some reason it hadn’t been finished, and they decided to lock it up rather than leave it out.”

“Probably to keep the teenagers from getting into it…” grumbled Dorian.

“In any case,” I continued, “Marc and I concluded that it would ruin if it was left too long, so we convinced Dorian to have some with us. None of us were particularly keen on wine back then, so we were rather glad to be able to drink ale instead.”

“No need to make it sound as if we were regular drinkers.”

I laughed, “Indeed, we were not. While Marc and I had stolen a bit of wine a few times before, our friend, Dorian the Pure, had never tasted a drop of alcohol before that day.”

“What happened?” said Rose, leaning in closely. The story had her complete attention. Dorian groaned.

“We found three large tankards and filled them to the brim,” I explained. “To be honest, they really were large. Each one would hold a full yard of ale, but after we had each drunk ours down, Dorian here was overwhelmed by emotion.” I grinned at my childhood friend.

Rose let out a small laugh, while Penny asked me, “What sort of emotion?”

Looking at the ceiling I sighed dramatically, “The noblest of emotions, love… that is what spoke to Dorian’s sloppy drunken heart that day!”

“You don’t have to be so damned poetic about it,” complained Dorian.

“Marc and I tried to cover the fact that we’d had a bit to drink, but it was no use with Dorian beside us. After we left the cellar, we tried to sneak into the kitchen to steal some of the left over bread. When the cook caught us, he could barely scold us for all of Dorian’s professions of love and affection. From there he forced us to stop every time we met someone so that he could tell them how much he loved them,” I laughed as I recounted the tale, and the lights in the room seemed to dim.

“It wasn’t as bad as all that,” said Dorian sourly.

For some reason it had gotten really quiet, so much so that it made Dorian’s voice seem louder than normal, but when I listened I still heard the same background noise as usual. In fact the room was quite loud with people’s voices. Strange. Shaking my head I responded to my friend’s remark, “Oh, it was bad! You told Benchley that you loved him as well.” Benchley was the valet and chamberlain for James Lancaster, and a figure of stern authority throughout our boyhoods.

“I forgot about that part,” Dorian admitted.

“Hah!” I said in a voice that sounded too loud to my own ears. “You threw up on…,” I paused as the room grew dim. The light was fading rapidly, but no one else seemed to have noticed. An oppressive silence grew around me at the same time.

A feeling of panic gripped my heart, and I stood up suddenly. My friends watched cautiously, unsure if my strange expression was meant to be part of my tale, or something to be concerned about. I felt Penny’s hand on mine as she studied my face. “Is something wrong, Mordecai?”

I was smothered in a darkness so profound, even my magesight could not pierce it, while at the same time my ears seemed to have stopped working. Looking at my wife’s face I spoke, “I’ve gone blind.”

She stared at me curiously. “Don’t be silly, you’re looking directly into my eyes.”

That made no sense, yet she was correct. I could still see her, and everyone else for that matter. The sensation was similar to the first time I had experienced seeing with my magesight alone, an occasion in which I had been in a pitch black room without realizing that there was no light. “Wait, that isn’t right,” I said agreeing with her, as comprehension of my situation dawned upon me. “I can still see… it’s my magesight that’s gone.”

“Now who’s drunk on one cup of wine, eh?” commented Dorian.

I ignored him and stared wildly around me. My sensation, my ‘feeling’ for everything around me was completely absent. Though my eyes still worked, everything looked flat and two dimensional, as if the world had lost all depth and much of its color as well. I couldn’t hear anything either.

It wasn’t ordinary mundane sounds of people talking around me, or the sound of plates and cups as people ate. No… the sounds I was missing were the voices that had been my constant companions for many years now. It had been something so pervasive, so omnipresent I hardly noticed it anymore; the tiny songs and melodies of people’s bodies, of furniture, or the gentle susurrating music of the wind… the deep drum beat of the earth’s heart below. It was all gone, as though the universe itself had gone still, holding its breath in anticipation of some important event.

“He’s not joking, Dorian,” said Rose to her husband, “Something is wrong with Mordecai.”

“What’s wrong with Daddy?” asked Moira, tugging on Penny’s dress.

“Nothing darling, I think he just had too much wine,” said Penny immediately.

I had broken out in a cold sweat, and a faint feeling of nausea swept over me. “I think perhaps I should retire for the evening,” I told them uncertainly.

Penny didn’t waste any time. Reaching out she caught the nearest server by the arm as he was passing by with a tray of meat, “Tell Peter that the Count isn’t feeling well and has decided to retire for the evening.”

The poor fellow was startled and almost attempted to bow with the platter in his hands. “Yes, mi’lady.” Turning he started to continue down the table with his tray.

The countess’ voice caught him before he had gone two steps, “Set the tray down, it can wait. Inform Master Tucker immediately.”

I was already on my feet, so I began heading toward the exit without waiting. Dorian caught up with me in time to prevent me from walking into the door frame; I had looked back to see if Penny had the children in tow. I wasn’t used to navigating without my magesight. Before I could pass through the doorway, a collective gasp echoed through the hall, and looking back I knew immediately why… one of the large enchanted lights in the center of the great hall had turned a vivid blue color.

Complete silence fell over the crowd for a moment that seemed to stretch into eternity, until it was broken by the sounds of the bell tower beginning to ring. We were under attack.