Sisters

Amala finally makes it to King's Reach and finds comfort with her family.

11.

Sisters

 

 

It was lightly raining when the airship gently floated down until it was parallel with the docking platform in King’s Reach.   The city was extremely full - apparently the Queen had sent the fleet of airships to retrieve the other noble families throughout the Kingdom.  

It occurred to her suddenly that Eioldth had not sent an airship to retrieve her son; instead she’d sent a message to Westmark to send a coach for him, which would take much longer.   It struck her as very odd, but she was too nervous about the upcoming events to give it any deep thought.   Having no luggage to retrieve, she rushed off the airship as soon as the gang plank was lowered.

 

Amala stopped halfway across, very surprised to see the forms of her older sisters Sirya and Aranthi standing on the waiting platform, with their baby sister Aidan held snugly in Sirya’s arms.  

 

The two older sisters were equally surprised to see their strong-willed, tom-boy sister look so hollow eyed and anxious as she ran across the gang-plank and hugged them fiercely, crying as if she had not seen them for years.

“Amala…?”  Sirya asked, maneuvering the baby to keep her from being crushed by her sister’s bear-hug.

“I’m so glad to see you!”  She sobbed, her head buried in Aranthi’s shoulder.  

The two older sisters looked at each other with great concern, for Amala was never one to show much emotion, especially like this.

“Are you alright?”   Aranthi asked, patting her back as she sobbed. 

Amala said something, but the words were lost in her weeping.

“Amala, what has happened?” Sirya demanded, but her sister just shook her head and kept crying.

 

They took her off the platform and into the sheltered waiting area.   Aranthi gently sat her on a bench and continued to pat her back, giving Sirya very anxious looks as Amala’s emotional outburst continued.

Still balancing her baby sister against her shoulder, Sirya knelt in front of her distraught sister and lifted her chin so she looked her in the eye.

“Amala, tell me.”

“I-I-I c-can’t!”  She managed to get out and at once resumed weeping.   Sirya glanced up at Aranthi, “Go get father.”

 

Amala’s head popped up, “No!  No, I’m alright, really.   I just went through some… terrible things.”

“Amala, you look like death reanimated.”   Sirya countered, “You need some rest.”

“I can’t, Sirya… not yet.   I have to report to the Queen.”

“Why?”

“It’s… it’s about t-the prince.”

“Prince Edwarren?”  

From her response, Amala knew that the news about Edwarren’s death had not been made public yet.

“Amala, what happened?”  Sirya demanded.

“He’s dead, Sirya.   Prince Edwarren is dead.”

“Yesh preserve us!”  Sirya exclaimed and Aranthi brought her hands to her face in shock.

“What happened, Amala, you’ve got to tell us!”   Aranthi pleaded.

 

Amala just swallowed hard and wiped her eyes with a deep sigh, “I have to speak to Queen Eioldth first, Ara.  That was her command.   Is the funeral going on right now?”

“Yes, they are making the procession to the Cathedral of Yesh the Merciful and the streets are overflowing with mourners.   All the nobles are walking behind the Queen and the bier.   That’s why we’re here; Mom and Dad are in the procession, with Snoe and Gamel.   Mom didn’t want Aidan to get fussy or wet if it rained, so I told her I’d take her with us.   I’d hoped to see the service.”

“It hasn’t begun yet?”

“No, but you’re in no state to sit through that!”

 

Amala smiled at her older sister’s instinctual mothering.   She’d never appreciated it until today.

“Both of you go on… leave Aidan with me, we’ll go sit in the Queen’s park.”

“Amala, I don’t know…”  Sirya hesitated, worried about her sister’s emotional state.

“It’s alright, Sirya, I need quiet and the park will be very quiet with everyone at the funeral.   Besides, I think cuddling baby Aidan would cheer me up.   I’ve not been much of a big sister to her… I’d like to change that.”

 

Sirya again shot Aranthi a look and she shrugged.

“Are you sure you are alright?”   Aranthi asked gently.

 

Amala smiled as she blinked back more tears, “I am now that I’m with my sisters.   Go ahead, I feel better now.   I’ll tell you all about it later.”

“You’re sure?”  Sirya asked, hesitant to hand the baby to her sister.

“Yes; I’m not dressed for a funeral anyway, and I’ve seen far too much death recently.”  She smiled down at her baby sister, who looked questioningly up at her with her lovely large orange-red eyes.   “I need some time with our little doll here.”

“Well, okay… the service may take a while.”

“That’s okay, I won’t leave the park.”

“Alright.”  Sirya handed Aidan to her after she had leaned over and kissed her baby sister on the forehead.

“We’ll see you in a little while.”   Sirya assured her and they began to walk away.

“Sirya?   Aranthi?” She called and the two lovely Drow girls turned, “I love you both.   I’m so glad you came to find me.”

“We love you too.”  Sirya responded, nearly speechless at the radical difference in Amala.

“You’d better hurry; don’t worry, Aidan and I will be just fine.”

 

Her sisters nodded and hurried down the stairs from the waiting platform, wondering what had happened to their younger sibling.

 

***

 

The streets were full of people from all over the Kingdom and elsewhere, all grieving the loss of the long reigning King.   The light rain had ended, and Amala wove slowly through the crowds, gently rocking Aidan as she walked.   

 

She wasn’t aware of the many curious glances given to her as she passed; seeing an armor clad Drow woman with twin swords strapped on each side, carrying a tiny baby in the middle of King’s Reach was certainly unusual.  

But Amala didn’t care, for she was totally focused on clearing her mind of the horrible events she’d experienced and instead was soaking up the sweet innocence of tiny Aidan.   

 

She had not spent much time with the baby since her birth last year, and it surprised her to find now that she deeply regretted it.    Aidan’s smile seemed like snow in the early winter - it blanketed the harshness around her.  

 

Amala found herself softly singing an old Faesidhe lullaby that her father had sang to all of his children when they were babies.   Aidan’s eyes sparkled with recognition as she heard her sister sing the song in the Elven tongue. 

 

Taking a bench seat in the park, Amala kept singing the song to her sister, who watched her transfixed.   But the baby wasn’t the only one fascinated with the singing.  

 

A short distance away, a pair of young Elven men, both wearing Elven chainmail under tunics of deep green, turned away from watching the slow moving funeral procession that wound its way down the main street.  

 

Both men recognized the lullaby from their own childhoods, and the beautiful voice singing in Faesidhe pulled at their attention so they looked around until they found her.   For a long moment they were taken back by what they saw.   

 

A very lovely dark Elf woman, very young but wearing a chainmail shirt very much like those they wore under their armor, sat in the park singing to a little Drow baby.   The two looked at each other in amazement and discussed what they saw for a few moments, and then purposely walked up to her.

“Do you know what you are singing?”   One of the two asked her in Faesidhe.

“Yes,” she replied back in their tongue, “It’s a lullaby called ‘Silver the moon shines’.”

“How do you know it so well?”  The other Elf asked, and she looked up at them with a somewhat sad expression on her dark face.

“My father sang it to me when I was a baby.”

“Now you sing it to your child?”

“Not exactly -she’s my baby sister.”

 

The two Elven men again looked at each other in surprise.

Finally one of them asked, “How did your father learn the tongue of the Faesidhe?”

“My mother is a Drow; my father is half Drow and half Faesidhe.   His mother sang it to him while they were slaves of the Drow.”

 

Once more the two Elven men glanced at each other and then one asked, “Are you one of the daughters of the Duke and Duchess of Westmark and Dullerm?”

 

Amala smiled at them and nodded, “I’m Amala, their fourth child - this is Aidan, their youngest.”

 

The two elves bowed before her, “Lady Amala, I apologize for our coarseness.   It surprised us to hear a song in our native tongue being sung, though somehow your beautiful voice seemed fitting in singing a lullaby that also almost fits as a lament for the late King.”

“ I am Linel Demmet and this is my brother Bieo; we are sons of governor Demmet of the Great Forest and the subjects of your parents after the Faesidhe Kingdom became part of the Duchy of Westmark as a result of the war.    Your good parents placed my father as governor and we are here today to pay homage to our king.”

 

Amala was somewhat surprised, as the conquest of the Faesidhe had been very bitter for the race, and though her parents - who were given the territory by the King- were very fair to their new subjects, the fact that their rulers were Drow had created deep resentment among the Faesidhe.

 

“I’m sorry I was speaking in your language.” She said to them in common, “I meant no disrespect - the lullaby does not translate into other tongues easily.”

“Lady Amala, we were not offended - you sang beautifully and you obviously have mastered our language.”

“Yes, my father taught all of us, but he also told me not to speak it in public as your people believe that only Faesidhe may speak the holy language.”

“True, but you are a quarter Faesidhe, are you not?   You have the right to speak it, at least in my eyes.”

“Thank you, sir; that is very gracious of you.   I certainly don’t want to offend any of your people.   My parents greatly desire your people to not resent us ruling over you.”

“Lady Amala, there have been 20 years since our Kingdom fell and in that time as part of the Duchy of Westmark, we have seen nothing but graciousness and respect for our customs and ways.   I know at first there was bitterness, but you would be greatly surprised to learn that the younger generations are far less resentful and the majority are quite impressed with their lords and their wisdom in administrating our forest.”

“Sir, that is very good to know. I’ll pass that along to my parents.”

“Thank you, lady Amala.   We must be going, I fear, but it was very nice to meet you… and your sister.”

 

She returned the sentiment and they walked away, leaving her wondering what would happen to the relationship with the Faesidhe Elves if the next ruler of Westmark had a different policy.

***

 

As Amala was pondering this, in another part of the city, her two older sisters had joined up with their parents and siblings just outside of the Cathedral.  The two girls told their parents of their concerns about Amala and immediately they wanted to find her, alarmed by what they were told.

“Stay here - for the Queen; I’ll go find her.”  The Duke told his wife, and he had a tough time convincing her to stay, but finally she agreed.   Reluctantly the Duchess was led into the Cathedral by her daughters, but she would not be focused on the ceremony as her thoughts and prayers were with her middle child.

 

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[Elina]

"...her head buried on Aranthi’s shoulder." It may sound better with "in," rather than "on." ?