Page 33 of Elemental Truth (Mysterious Fields #3)

33

MARCH 11TH AT ARUNDEL

“ S igbert.” Thessaly felt like she was repeating herself from just six weeks ago. Less than six weeks. Another death, on top of illness, on top of everything. Here she was, standing in the entry hall of Arundel, Sigbert in the arched door to the Great Hall. “I’m so terribly sorry.”

Now, instead of a bier with Sigbert’s father, it was Sigbert’s mother. This time, Thessaly had received a note in the morning, though apparently Maylis had died the previous afternoon. It had not suggested Thessaly come, but it had not said she shouldn’t. And whatever complexities she might feel about the Fortiers, or for that matter, her own parents, losing both parents inside of six weeks had to be a horror.

Sigbert didn’t move, not in any way Thessaly could see.

“Thessaly.” Then, slowly, he nodded his head once. “I’ll tell Grand-mère you observed the proper forms.” His voice was like nothing she’d heard from him before. It was stone, all the resonance drained out, no echo, no life, near enough.

“Is there anything I can do to help? Any preparations?”

Sigbert shook his head minutely. A negative. “Thank you, no.” His voice made her shiver now, even just three words of it. There was something wrong there, and Thessaly had no idea what to do next. “We have the lists in hand.” He might, a month ago, have managed a moment of dark humour, about having reviewed them recently, knowing where everything was. There was none of that.

“I hope some of the family are here?” Thessaly was thrashing around for anything. She didn’t want to stop, to be here for only a few dozen words. That felt wrong, too.

“Uncle Dagobert and Aunt Laudine and Garin. For the time being, at least. And we expect Aunt Bradamante in an hour or so. We will have enough to keep vigil.”

It would be a rather painfully small number for a vigil. “Let me know if I can be of any help, please.” Thessaly tried to keep the earnestness front and centre in her voice. “At any time.”

Sigbert didn’t soften, not exactly, but he nodded once. “The proper forms.” He repeated it again. Then he glanced over her shoulder. “Aunt Laudine.” A second later, he added, “Uncle Dagobert.”

“Might I have a word, Sigbert?” Dagobert was walking slowly, though perhaps slightly less painfully than sometimes.

Laudine followed it immediately with, “Thessaly, would you walk with me outside for a breath of fresh air? If you have a moment?”

“Of course.” Thessaly ducked her chin. “Sigbert, I’ll be thinking of you, all of you.” Sigbert inclined his head just once, taking a step or two back offering no touch, and waiting for his uncle to cross the hall and join him. Laudine turned for the front door, and Thessaly followed her out. Once they were outside— the day was at least not raining— Laudine turned to follow the paths out to the formal garden. She was visibly pregnant now, and walking more carefully herself. Thessaly let her set the pace and decide about the conversation.

It wasn’t until they were across the formal garden, well away from the house, that Laudine looked around for somewhere to sit, claiming a bench in the sun. “Do you mind?”

“Of course not.” Thessaly was dressed comfortably to be outside for at least a few minutes. “May I ask how you’re doing? Or the others? Sigbert was, ah, terse? Which, of course, I understand, it must be a terrible shock for him.”

“Ah, the question of how we are all doing is not easy to answer, either. It is a shock for Sigbert, I am sure. And Dagobert might be his Heir, but that does not mean they entirely trust each other. One challenge among many. I’d hoped that seeing you might be a little help, but I gather not.”

“He did not tell me in so many words to go away, but he might as well have. Would you write if there is anything I can do?” Thessaly glanced back toward the house. “I was thinking that it must be difficult indeed to lose both parents in such quick succession.”

“There is rather more gossip today about a curse, I gather,” Laudine said. “Father has his sources, and his sources have sources.” She looked Thessaly up and down. “Some of that is about you, as you know.”

Thessaly swallowed hard. She might still have doubts about whether any of Lord Clovis’s fate was due to the duel, but she had not interacted with either Lady Chrodechildis or Lady Maylis other than in the ordinary ways of this kind of family. She had disliked the pressures to marry, and some of how both of them had treated her, but it was an ordinary grumbling frustration, not some far-reaching deadly magic. “I suppose that’s inevitable. So much misfortune, all at once. It’s not been six months since Childeric.” She cleared her throat. “May I ask about Lady Chrodechildis? Would it be a help to have someone sit with her?”

“Ah, no. She’s not able to speak, but she is particular about who she tolerates. That does not include me or Dagobert. One of two maids is with her all the time.” Laudine looked out across the sleeping gardens. “An apoplexy, it was sudden. She stood up, then she fell to the ground, unable to move deliberately. The Healers have advised how to keep her comfortable.” Laudine cleared her throat. “They do not anticipate significant improvement, I’m afraid.”

“Oh. My.” That was something Thessaly had not entirely imagined. “She has always seemed, I mean, older but active and thoroughly engaged and in control of her surroundings. That must be terribly challenging for her.” Honesty made her add, “And for everyone now.”

Laudine visibly appreciated the latter. “Yes. Maylis had just finished overseeing rearranging the Great Chamber, on the ground floor, to be Chrodechildis’s new bedroom and sitting room. We hope that as the weather improves, she might at least come in a wheelchair into the garden on balmy days. That would be impossible from upstairs.”

That implied a rearrangement of the household on all levels. “And you and Dagobert and Garin?”

“A shock to Dagobert. And Garin is confused, I think, but he does not wish to talk about it. By a number of things, the back and forth from the Essex House, about the fact he is to have a younger brother, one so much younger.” Laudine considered. “This pregnancy is also something of a trial, but I cannot complain in the circumstances. Though I wish our rooms were not at the top of two flights of stairs. I can’t bring myself to manage them more than once or twice a day. But it meant I was lurking in the sitting room, and could hear you talking to Sigbert.”

Thessaly nodded, hesitantly. “And Sigbert, still on the first floor?”

“Yes. It may make some sense for him to move into the West Wing in due course, and turn over the first floor for our use. There’s quite a bit of room there, as you’ve seen.” Then Laudine added, “Though, I, at least, would understand if you did not wish to become closer to the family by marriage. Certainly the omens are questionable, if you believe in that sort of thing.”

Thessaly firmly set the question aside for the time being. “Do you believe it is something of the kind, something beyond a run of particularly ill-fortune?”

“That’s an excellent question. You realise that I count the misfortunes from June, not September. Dagobert’s injuries, he is— well. Our Healer, who I trust, I was at school with him, suspects there might be a little further improvement, but not as much as we hoped for.”

“I thought he looked to be moving slightly more easily, today?” Thessaly offered, cautiously, with the idea that an outside perspective might be something.

“Did you?” Laudine considered. “We’ve been discussing whether becoming Heir changed anything. Or perhaps being on this land. It is worth keeping notes on, at least, and seeing what changes when we are here for an extended period.” She glanced down. “I would rather not have this child here, but I suppose we’ll have to figure that out. Certainly, leaving Sigbert largely alone in the house is unkind. He has very little idea how to handle the ordinary household management. The staff are well-trained, but there are always matters that need a competent decision.”

Thessaly nodded once. “I have been learning that. Though in my case, I can at least ask what Aunt Metaia preferred in such cases, and then decide what I want. Here, that might not do. And, of course, not wanting to interfere with his grandmother’s preferences.”

“Just so.” Laudine looked away again. “I admit, the loneliness is a concern. I worry about Sigbert. This is not to pressure you, but he has also not spent time with, oh, friends from school or otherwise. His interests are private, or they were shared with his father.”

“And not his uncle.” Thessaly hesitated. “I gathered, from the source you’d expect, that there was some project they were working on.”

“Just so. If you’d pass on that, well, whatever decisions happen will not be quick. It’s not something Dagobert is involved with, not at this point.” Her voice became tighter, her lips pursed slightly. “And I don’t know the details. May I ask, did Sigbert give any sign, the last month, of his preferences?”

Thessaly swallowed. “I told him I was open to considering negotiations in due course. I suspect that would have been, well, around now, in the ordinary way of things. To begin to put the terms together. As things are?” It was the question of what she told Laudine. “And to be honest, I am not sure he can offer terms I would agree to at this point.” A great deal of that was that Sigbert was not Vitus. That made all the difference in the world. But even if Vitus was not in the picture, she would be wary. “Not because of rumours about a curse, but about what I have seen and heard.”

“I must admit, I could not advise marrying into the family unless you wish a great deal of effort for very little respect.” Laudine said. “Sigbert is— I think if he were in better form, he would want to do well by you. Certainly, I suspect he would do better at asking you, or permitting you to lay out your terms, than Childeric would have. But that is not much for a marriage.”

Thessaly nodded. Hesitantly, she cleared her throat. “May I ask, have you been happy?”

There was, for just a moment, a radiant reaction to that, as if, whatever else was true, yes, it was a good marriage. Laudine suppressed it nearly as quickly, the sun behind the cloak of a cloud, but then she spoke. “I am fortunate to love my husband and to be loved in turn. And the fact that we’re having another child is entirely my request. For a number of reasons, but in case something, if he’d taken a turn for the worse.” Now Laudine looked away. “He is an imperfect man, my husband. And I am, I am certain, flawed in my own ways. People are, I’ve found. But our failures mediate each other, rather than being cumulative, on the whole. I have been fortunate to have his ear, his understanding, his partnership, in almost all things.”

‘Almost’ was a key word there, clearly, but not one Thessaly could ask about. “And you do not think Sigbert would offer that partnership.”

“No. He would let you build your life, at least once things settled. Have your hobbies, your interests, though of course no duelling while you were expecting or intending to be. The limitations of portal travel at such times, that is wearing. There are many worse lives, and many harder ones. But it would not necessarily produce happiness at home. Comfort, cordiality, yes. They are different things.”

“I appreciate your honesty,” Thessaly said finally, choosing her words precisely. “Would it help to know my intentions? So that you and Dagobert can plan accordingly?”

“I cannot promise to keep them entirely secret. If Sigbert asks directly, he is Lord of the Land, there are implications for the family, even if he does not directly call the truth magics. Tell me according to that.” Laudine’s voice was clear now, as if they’d ended up on ground she’d already measured and considered.

“I am open to discussing terms with Sigbert, but I do not expect we will find terms that I would agree to. Even leaving aside, erm, other considerations, other people. My parents are still pressuring me, and that might change the situation. I am glad to share more with you as more becomes apparent. How’s that?” Thessaly watched Laudine carefully through all of that, to be rewarded with a slight nod at the end.

“That is more than fair, and appreciated. I will let you know if there is more I can share. Is a note to Bryn Glas the fastest way to reach you, still?”

“Yes. And the staff are checking three times a day, just in case. A few times, I’ve had messages outside the normal portal schedule for the post.”

“Just so. Ah. Now, would you mind walking back with me? And perhaps your arm? I’m afraid he’s being restless again.” Laudine grimaced. “He is rather more active than Garin was, all elbows and feet, I think.”

“Of course. My arm, how best may I offer you a hand up?” They sorted that out easily enough, though Thessaly felt the time duelling had improved her strength along with her agility. They walked back arm in arm, rather slowly, to find Dagobert waiting to talk to his wife. Thessaly took her leave, after one more repetition of her willingness to help. By the time she opened the portal for Bryn Glas, she hoped they would not ask, while worrying more over what was happening and why.