Anna von Wessen (34 page)

“I only saw it as a sign that I believed rightly, when one day there came an English merchant vessel to the island. They had been driven off their course, but their ship was intact. I was saved!

“I returned with them to England. I wandered long, but came finally across others like myself; and they showed me to the Weld. You know the Weld?”

Anna nodded.

“Well! I lived there for many years. I never forfeited the hope that my daughter had survived; and I dragged myself through each weary day, each sleepless night, knowing in my heart that I would find her again. I had to know this. Otherwise I would have died.

“But one day, one day when I was old and feeble beyond reckoning, word reached my ear – as word will do in the Weld. It seemed King Ephram was returning to England. Returning with his son. Returning with his adopted daughter, Anna von Wessen. I knew right away! I knew from the start. Oh, I knew – even before I heard the story of how he had found her.”

Anna watched him; and was terrified. She nearly cried out, nearly demanded for him to be silent. But the thing had started, now – and she could not stop it.

“I kept watch of you for a long while,” he went on. “Truthfully, I knew nothing of what you would be – nothing of what one does become, in a situation like yours. Only recently the word came to King Xeros, from Vaya Eleria herself. Surely I never thought the two of you should become friends!”

“Doubtless it is a surprise for everyone,” Anna said dryly. She could not bring herself to think too seriously about what Dio was saying; for the thinking would have meant too much. So she held it a little away from her, surveying it at arm’s length. As of now it was only a story. Only a story – and who was to say whether it were true?

“Please continue,” she said.

“Long as I have been at the Weld,” said Dio, “Xeros of course is a great friend of mine. He told me, and no one else, why Vaya Eleria had come to him. In return I told him my own story, and requested his approval of a plot I was forming. He agreed, as an honest fellow like him will do; and the whole thing was set in motion.

“When I learnt of your true condition, I suspected immediately that Wolach would want you. I knew he would find you out eventually. As the best offensive strike I could muster, I took advantage of my old tie to Worgach, to gain Wolach’s trust. But I had to work quickly. The years and the weariness seemed to fall away from me like a heavy cloak; and in my determination, I was almost young again. My efforts were rewarded, too, when I was admitted to the primary guard of Wolach’s ship, along with those others whom you saw last night. This position allowed me to save you. I was mightily surprised, however, when it was Esa who carried you aboard; for our paths had crossed many times at the Weld, and though I did not favour him, neither did I suspect him. I needed take great care, once he arrived; for he would have recognised me immediately, and would have spoilt my secret before the time was right.”

Anna could not speak. She thought very seriously that she might faint.

“Whether you think my account veritable or not,” continued the old Narkul, “I shall end it now and leave you, so that you may search your heart in private. Before I go, however, I should like very much to tell you what you were christened.”

“Wait!” shouted Anna, with one hand waving wildly in the air
(it was the one whose wrist was broken; but in her panic she did not notice), and the other pressed flat to her flushed forehead. “Half a moment, Dio Constantín!”

“Do you not wish to know your name?”

“My – my –”

“Your name, my child. Do you not wish to know it?”

“Then – then my name is not Anna von Wessen?”

Dio laughed. “Ah, no!” he said. “Certainly it isn’t.
What a strange name that would be for a Narkul!”

“Would it?” Anna asked wonderingly.

“It’s no secret that we have no language of our own,” Dio rejoined, “but still, we have traditions. Many of our labels and appellations are rooted in the tongue of the Southern country from which Dain Aerca took the blood of the wolves. As for the name you have known, however – you remember the house I said we went to live in, when we came to Germany? For centuries it was called the house of Wessen, named after a famous Captain of one of Worgach’s ancestors. All of us who came from it used that surname on our papers:
von Wessen.
And ‘Anna,’ well – that was my mother’s name.”

“Still I don’t want to know.”

Dio leant forward, and looked very earnestly into Anna’s face. “Listen,” said he. “I understand very well why you wish to cling to the name you have known, and you have all my sympathy. But you must understand – that the denial of your true name will not change who you are.”

Anna could not manage to speak, so constricted was her throat; but nevertheless she gave a single, curt nod.

“Of course,” said Dio Constantín, “treacherous as was the entire world at that time for the Narken – in truth it is no less so today! – your mother and I were wholly convinced that we would die. Common sense should have told us the same of you – but we could not believe that you would perish, never even to have lived! So we placed our own lives into you, and christened you so that we might live through you, once you had grown. The name we gave you, then, was Mila Constantín.”

“Mila Constantín,” Anna echoed.

Dio nodded. He laughed very merrily; but was quick to cease, and again to adopt his serious, slightly melancholy expression. “Mila,” he said, “I hope you know what it was for me to see you this day. For more than seven decades I have thought of you, day and night – but today my dream came true, and I saw your face.”

Anna felt a sob come to lodge in the midst of her throat, so that she was choked, and could
answer him nothing.

“I’ll leave you now,” he said, rising from his chair. He looked at Anna for a moment; but then leant forward and kissed her cheek. “Sleep now, my child.”

After he left her, Anna lay stunned for long hours. She slept not at all. She only stared at the black porthole, and shivered each time the waves came to crash against the hull.

Episode VI

XXXV:

Exposure

I
n the morning, Dio Constantín came to her again. She was very grateful that he seemed not to intend to renew the subject of yesterday, and did not even resume the seat he had brought into the room, but merely stood in one place the whole time he spoke. He appeared less at ease than he had before, standing stiff and upright just beside the porthole, with the bright light of a new day shining down on his grizzled head.

“Good morning,” he said. “I hope you slept well.”

Anna said nothing.

“Well,” he went on, “I only came to discuss something with you. You’re feeling well enough?”

Anna smiled thinly, and replied with the question, “What is well enough?”

“I suppose it never does matter, does it, what we’re ready for? But we must face it anyway. So we should talk for a few minutes, I think, about what will happen when we get back.”

“All right.”

“We will come this afternoon to a private port. I shall return to the Weld with the others – but what you will do is your decision.”

“I have a choice?”

“The way I see it, yes. But it’s a hard thing. You could come with me, of course, to the Weld. But Ephram is a cunning creature; he will learn soon enough you are there, no matter how I try to hide you. Now – I have no doubt that Wolach will stop at nothing to see you dead. But I don’t think he would go so far as to ask the aid of Ephram. Therefore I see no reason why Ephram should know the truth of what happened. Who can have told him? For that reason, it might be better for you simply to return to Drelho. We are not yet ready to wage war against the castle; and you are not well enough. Your going to Ephram would buy us all valuable time.” He paused, and swallowed thickly. “Of course I would not ask you, would not even go so far as to suggest for you to do so. The choice is entirely your own.”

“Where,” said Anna, with her face twisted in thought, “do you think I would be more likely to find Vaya Eleria?”

Dio looked at her strangely. “I expect,” he said slowly, “that even if she is not present at the place you choose, you could send for her directly.”

Anna nodded, but still was thinking carefully, and did not look at him.

“I’ll give you time to think,” he said, as he turned to go.

But suddenly Anna’s head snapped up; and she realised that she could not let him leave. “Wait,” she said.

He looked back.

“I have another question.”

“Ask anything you like.”

“It’s nothing to do with what we were speaking of.”

“All right.”

“Would you mind terribly sitting down for a moment?”

He came to the chair, and sat. He watched Anna silently.

“Only one question more,” she said.

He nodded.

Anna was quiet for a moment. She looked hard into his face.

“How could you have spent so many years thinking about,” she began, with a catch in her sore throat which she righted quickly; “so many years searching for someone you hardly even knew?”

“Hardly knew!” he exclaimed. “You were my daughter, Mila Constantín. You are my child.”

“And that was enough – enough to sacrifice your entire life?”

He smiled sadly. “For what else would I have lived?”

Without thinking, without meaning to, Anna reached for his hand. Both of her own fit there in his palm; and he clutched them with shining eyes.

“Thank you, Father,” she whispered. “Thank you for saving my life.”

“That I have done it,” he answered, “makes all my years of pain worthwhile.”

They sat silent for a moment, with tear-stained faces. For herself, Anna could think of nothing more to say. But after a little, Dio released her hands, and reached into his pocket.

“I have something for you,” he said. “I’ve carried it with me for seventy-six years – and now it is time to let it go.”

He held a bright silver ring out to Anna. “This was your mother’s wedding band,” he said. “Sometime after I came to the island, I found it in my pocket. As she was sinking, she must have –” He paused a moment, and cleared his throat. “Still I wear my own,” he added, “but I think it fitting that you should have hers.”

He looked into Anna’s face, and smiled. “Usually a father will give the mother’s ring to his son, so that he may bestow it upon his own bride one day. I have no son – but my heart tells me that already there is someone you would mean to give this to.”

Anna tightened her grip on the ring, and looked wonderingly into Dio’s eyes.

“Ah!” he said. “I am nearly one hundred years old, Mila! I never would have thought such a thing possible, outside of the Bible. I am old, yes – and you may be sure that I see more than most. Give this to your Vaya Eleria! It would make me happy.”

Again he touched her hand. His smile was brighter than any smile Anna had ever seen before; and it was fixed all the while upon her face, as he rose from his chair, and walked backwards out of the room. He shut the door. Anna looked in amazement down at the ring; and tried to imagine the hand of the woman who had owned it.

~

They came to port at three o’clock. By the time Dio came to fetch her from her bed, Anna’s head was throbbing with thinking, thinking, thinking. She weighed each option upon three different balances, and looked in bewilderment at the results of her efforts. There was a part of her which thought that to go with Dio Constantín was wisest; but there was another which was not at all ready for the conflict that action would bring. She told herself she would retain Ephram’s trust for as long as she was able, and in so doing would grant the Weld what time it required. This was a sensible conclusion enough, surely, and a cogent argument in itself; but really she simply was not willing to admit that her life needed soon change forever. It is fear, then, which often causes us to make foolish decisions. And it was only Anna’s fear which was to blame for this mistake she was about to make.

Then, perhaps there was yet another part of her – a part which did not believe that Ephram could ever hurt her. Perhaps she even believed that he would defend her. It was a strange and wonderful thing, having met this Dio Constantín who was her true sire; but you must remember that Ephram was the only father she had ever known. She was not thinking of the way he had spurned her so quickly, upon learning that she had had to do with Vaya’s waking; and she was not thinking of what he had done to Vaya herself. She did not think of the way he had behaved so strangely, the morning after her feud with Filipovic. She thought of none of these things – and so was not aware that he already suspected, and was not prepared for the reality of her situation. But you will hear of all that soon enough.

“I will come with you as far as the wood outside Drelho,” Dio said to her. “Then you will shift into the castle, and search for Vaya Eleria. Your success depends on finding her. If she is there, then she will already have given an explanation for your disappearance, and you need only affirm her story. If she isn’t there, it can mean only that she is at the Weld. If she
is
at the Weld, well – Ephram will know already that all is not as it should be, and you won’t be able to stay. If you do not find her, come immediately back to this place! I will wait here all night.”

He looked at her sharply. “Are you sure you want to do this, Mila?”

She hesitated. She could think of no response.

“You don’t have to do this,” said Dio.

“I must try,” Anna answered. But her voice was nearly strangled; and she doubted all the time.

~

She said goodbye to Dio under the trees beyond the castle. But already the turbulent emotions caused by their meeting were ebbing; and she could think of nothing but returning home. He seemed aware of this, and looked very miserable. Yet he did his best to smile.

“Remember,” he said. “If you find yourself in trouble, you need only come back to the ship. I’ll wait till word comes you are safe.”

“Thank you, Dio. I cannot thank you enough.”

“You can – and you have. Now go! And good luck.”

He moved back into the shadows. A moment later, Anna heard the crunching of leaves and the snapping of branches, as he changed his shape and went running through the wood. She stared after him for a little, and even sat down beneath the shade of a great heavy bole to rest herself. It was not till Dio had gone, however, that she realised how wrong she had been. She had not noticed that her heart was pounding, or that drops of perspiration were dripping from her like bullets. Her wounds had healed much over the past two nights, and did not hurt her so much; but the distance she came with Dio had wearied her greatly, and her breath came in painful bursts. How could she even think now of presenting herself to Ephram?

She was, at present, about a mile from the castle. Probably Vaya would hear her thoughts. Would hear them, that was, if she was even there – and if Anna called loudly enough.

She sank against the tree, and closed her eyes.

Vaya.

She waited whole minutes; but nothing came.

Vaya! Come to me.

She was so very tired, and so dizzy from the sudden knowledge of her folly, that she was hardly sure whether it were truly Vaya come to stand before her, in the golden harshness of the fading sun. She knew only that she opened her eyes, and saw Vaya there just beside her, looking down on her with a wretched countenance.

But probably if she were dreaming, Vaya would have looked a good deal happier. Therefore she judged her appearance not as a hallucination, and not as an apparition; but simply as an answer to her call.

“Vaya,” she murmured. “Vaya, I – I have made a terrible mistake, I think, and I don’t . . . won’t you help me . . .?”

Vaya reached down, and eased her slowly to her feet. She held Anna close against her, and seemed to tremble violently.

“When I heard you,” she said softly, “I could scarcely even tell whether it was real! I have heard you so many times, so many times these past days – but every time I came you were not here . . .”

She took Anna’s face in her hands, and looked desperately into her eyes. “It’s you, Anna – isn’t it? You’ve come to me?”

Anna tried to answer, but only coughed, and spattered a little blood from the wound at her throat, onto the white shirt which Vaya was wearing. Her knees went out from under her, and Vaya lowered her carefully back to the ground, where she knelt with Anna’s head on her shoulder.

“You’re hurt,” she muttered angrily, as with one hand she went to searching Anna for wounds. “They’ve hurt you!”

“Not – not so badly,” said Anna, shivering in spite of the warmth of the spilling sun. “But you don’t – you don’t ask how I escaped?”

“I went to Xeros,” Vaya answered. She was hardly paying attention to her words, though; she was distracted by the blood which had begun to seep through the split in Anna’s throat. Dio had removed the bandage before they debarked, and had covered the spot with a thick sort of bismuth powder. But it seemed the skin was not knit back so well as he had thought. “I went to Xeros and – he told me something. But I’m not sure . . .”

“I’ll tell you everything,” Anna gasped, wiping at her throat as she spoke. “But not – not now.”

“You should not be here,” Vaya admonished. “Ephram has returned from Black Manor, and will not tell what his business was there. That can mean nothing good! You should have gone to the Weld. I would have come to you there.”

“I am – beginning to realise . . .”

She fell still farther into Vaya’s arms, and pressed her face into her neck. Her breathing was difficult.

“Shhh,” Vaya whispered. “It’s all right. Everything will be fine – you’ll rest here a minute, and I will take you myself.”

Anna shuddered, and clutched roughly at Vaya’s back. Her tears fell to wet Vaya’s skin, and she shook so that she could hardly speak.

“I didn’t know whether I would see you again,” she sobbed. She hated her weakness, but could not right it. “I thought I might die without you. If I must die, I will – but not so far away from you. I love you. I love you so, Vaya . . .”

She raised her head to catch at Vaya’s lips. She used both arms to pull her nearer, and held her so tightly she might well have killed her, if she had been any less strong than she was. She fell on her back on the ground, and drew Vaya down with her. She stopped her kiss once for breath, and looked wildly into Vaya’s face.

But Vaya only smiled, and dried the tears with her hand. “Hush,” she said. “We’ll sort it out together – just as we’ve done so far. It’s no different. You’ll see.”

Again she brought Anna to stand, and was still for a moment, with her palm pressed fast to Anna’s cheek. There was no world, no air but that which lay between them. They heard nothing, there was no sound but the beating of Anna’s heart. Vaya looked down, put her hand to it, and leant her head to rest against Anna’s.

There is no telling how long they might have stayed like this, before recollecting that they should have been elsewhere. But they suffered, suddenly, a very untimely interruption.