Bellona (Part 1.5 of The Saskia Trilogy) (3 page)

Chapter Three

                                          The Beating

The night my mother had taken me back to my room, after I had left Nierra, I was sure I would suffer greatly. But she only left me in my room, with a command for me to get dried and go to bed. The whole night I tossed and turned, waiting for her revenge, but it never came. I spent the next two days with my father, studying history and all about the mortal world; my father was obsessed with knowledge and wanted me to know everything, but I hated being cooped up in the library with him. The more he drank, the more questions he asked, and the more he asked, the more I got wrong. It never took much for his temper to flair and right now I was trembling with fear waiting for the blow. The doors open and my mother walks in. She never took part in my lessons. On seeing her my heart plummets and when she smiles coldly at me, I know that now I will pay the price, now I will be punished. And for what? For being happy.

“Paulus, we need to have a word about Bellona.” I flinch at my name.

“Spit it out, woman,” my father slurs, his temper already rising.

“Mother, please,” I beg quietly as my heart starts to hammer and I fight the tears that threaten to spill.

“She lay with that boy Nierra.”

Color drains from my face as my father swings towards me, his face red with anger and alcohol.

“No. No, I swear.”

“Are you calling me. The queen. A liar?”

I know this is a trick question; either answer would result in the same thing. Tears fall as I shake my head.

“You see,” my mother squeals in triumph.

Ever so quietly my father speaks; his two words that freeze me with terror. “Leave us.”

“Very well.” Those are my mother’s final two words as she leaves me in my father’s hands. The sound of the door closing will stay with me forever. It is the sound of doom, the promise of suffering to come. The first blow sends me to the ground. My ears ring from the impact, no sound, I feel dazed as if my head is filled with cotton wool. Blood surges from my split lip, dripping onto the snow white marble floor. I can see my father’s reflection in the floor as he draws his foot back, his face in a snarl. I close my eyes, bracing myself for the impact, but no matter what I do I could never be ready for the pain that explodes down my spine. I scream in agony, while trying to crawl away as a large foot slams down on my thigh. I hear and feel the break. An animal somewhere is dying, squealing hysterically, the sound is shattering but is soon cut off as my stomach empties onto my hands, it is then I realise that the sound was coming from me. I take blow after blow. My face was one place my father never hit, but today he is too far gone. My jaw caves in and I scream but that causes more pain. “Help me.” My words are unintelligible. Drool pours from my mouth. Even if someone hears me, they would never intervene. But for the first time in my life I know I might die and I welcome it with open arms. It is like waiting to embrace an old friend, but death doesn’t come and neither does darkness, but he finally stops. I lie face down with nearly no vision as blood and drool pour from my mouth, and scarlet tears stream down my swollen and broken face. I can’t move my legs or my left arm, they are broken, and my right is the only functioning one. The fingers twitch with every shooting pain.

“Help me,” I whisper, the words tumbling from my lips, coated in blood, coated in pain.

“More wine,” my father roars and the doors open. The servant pauses. I can barely see him through swollen eyes. My fingers twitch. “Help,” I choke out, but he walks to my father and pours him wine. His steps are steady, but when he reaches the door, he looks at me and nods before the door slams. The longer I lie there, the more pain I am in. The doors open again. My mother stands there with three maidens, and for the first time in my life I see a flicker of guilt, but it flees her eyes as she turns to my father.

“Her face, what have you done to her face?” She sounds angry.

What about the rest of me? I think.

My father shrugs, drinking deeply. “I lost my temper.” That is it, his explanation.

“Take her to her room,” she tells the three maidens and leaves. As they approach, I try to speak to tell them not to move me, I want to beg them to leave me. “No... NO!” No more pain. My words cause more blood to leave my lips. One girl comes into view. Tears stream down her face, her hand gently pats my clotted hair.

“Bring me poppi,” is all she tells one of the maidens that leaves as she continues stroking my hair, swallowing her sobs. “It will be okay, the poppi will take the pain away.” Her friend squeezes her shoulder and she reaches back, patting her friend’s hand. What that must feel like, to have someone to squeeze your shoulder because you are upset. Red tears continue to stream from my eyes.

The maiden is crying and covers her mouth to hold in her sobs. The pity in her eyes makes me close mine, this kindness I can’t accept. I let the pain flood me and take over all of my senses. It is then I realise that I had somehow made my body go numb. But the poppi is soon filling my mouth and darkness fills my mind.

My mother’s humming comes between spells of pain and spells of sleep; she is such a beautiful singer. At that moment I don’t wish for the pain to stop, I only wish she would never stop singing to me.

Chapter Four

              Falling in Love

Two months pass and my body is nearly fully healed. My jaw is the slowest to heal so I find it hard to chew food. I never see my parents. I spend the time locked up in my room, alone. In that time I have discovered my affinity. Telling my parents I have one could lessen their hate for me, as they are ashamed that I have none, as each person is born with an affinity for fire, air, water or earth. I possessed none. My mother hates me for it; I am an embarrassment, something shameful. Yet they keep it quiet. People just assume I have a low level affinity. But what I have learnt is that I do have one. It’s a spirit affinity, one that no one else possesses. When we learn of affinities we know that God gave four away and kept spirit for himself. But now all that has changed, he gave it to me, so God hasn’t forsaken me after all. He has given me a very rare gift, a unique one. I practice on the servants, they are never aware of what I am doing but their confused stares are only brought on by my glee. Bea is a kind soul, she is pure, her light is always shining, always clear. On one of the days that I stretch out towards her, her memories pour into me. They are happy ones, ones of family, friends, her husband. I envy every one of them, my mind wanders back to Nierra and I wonder what he is doing now, is he as excited as I am about the picnic he is taking me on this morning? Bea is cleaning out the remains of the fire from last night. I touch her spirit gently, wanting to feel her happiness. It’s warm, like standing in the perfect spot on the perfect day as the sun’s rays break through the clouds and shine on your face. She shivers and looks around her.
Interesting
, I think. I wonder if she can sense me. I put more force into touching her spirit, giving it a gentle shove and she stumbles, her eyes wide as she looks around the room for the source of her unsteady feet.

“Are you alright?” I ask, keeping my face impassive.

She smiles, her light grows bright. “Yes, just imaging things.”

I smile back, the feeling of power rushes through my body.

                                          ***

The horses are saddled; Nierra stands in the courtyard holding the reigns. He hasn’t noticed my arrival so I take the opportunity to appreciate how handsome he is. A sigh escapes my lips and he looks up at me, a smile growing on his face. I smile back shyly, feeling overwhelmed at how he makes me feel. “Are you ready?” Nierra asks, still smiling. And I wonder am I ready, his question means more to me then he could ever imagine, but I find myself saying yes. His gentle hands help me into the saddle before he climbs up on his own. The day is perfect as we ride away from the castle, from my mother, from all the badness and towards the outskirts of Saskia where the flowers are wild, the grass lush and the trees tall. It’s like another world, one where I can be a better person. That’s how Nierra makes me feel. Around him I want to be a better woman.

“Care to share your thoughts?” I look sideways at Nierra, his emerald green eyes intent on my face.

“I was thinking it’s beautiful here,” I say and mean it.

“That is because you’re here.”

I smile at his compliment and feel bold. “Maybe it’s because we are here together.”

His smile widens. “I think you’re right.”

We fall into a comfortable silence as we reach a clearing. Nierra sets out a blanket and a small picnic. As he does, I find myself drawn to the wild flowers that grow around the large trees that surround us. I gather some flowers while humming. I place only blue and purple flowers into my bunch and smell them, ceasing my humming.

“You have a beautiful voice.” I turn to Nierra, he is stretched out on the blanket watching me and I wonder for how long he has been watching me, the thought is pleasing. “What where you humming?”

Before I answer his question, I sit down close to him, still holding the flowers. “It’s a song my mother sings when I’m… sick.” I think of each time I have nearly died from my father’s beatings, but I don’t let the thoughts seep into my story. “She hummed it to me and I remember wishing she would never stop. It helped me get better.” I smile at Nierra now. “It’s a story about love.”

Nierra slowly entwines our fingers together, making me place the flowers on the blanket. He uses the moment to take one purple flower and place it in my hair. I stay perfectly still but close my eyes as he trails his finger down my cheek. “Tell me the story about love, Bellona.” The way he says my name makes butterflies erupt in my stomach. I open my eyes, his fingers still linger on my cheek and he kisses me gently on the lips, but I want more. This time I kiss him deeply and he doesn’t hesitate. I find myself under him as he hovers over me. When our lips part we are both a little breathless.

“Tell me the story,” he asks, but his eyes are focused on my lips and I wet them.

But I concentrate and speak a little breathlessly. “It’s the story of two lovers, Lauren and Philip. Lauren was cursed into a wingless bird and without the sky she was dying. Philip stayed with her but he could do little to comfort her, as he was human and she, a bird. He owned all the gold in the world, and spent nearly all his wealth trying to break the curse, but it did no good. With his last few coins he orders a witch to turn him into a bird so he can be with his love. The witch did as he asked. But his presence once again gave no comfort to his love as she needed the sky. As each day on the soil she died a little more.” I pause for a breath and Nierra comes closer

“Does he save Lauren?”

“You will find out soon.” I smile “Philip had been influential as a human and his charm and power seemed to still stay with him as a bird, from everywhere they flocked to him wanting to help. So with their help he carried his beloved into the sky supported by six other birds. Her feathers grew thicker, her eyes more alert and her color more white. Philip was so happy until she started to fall, the other six birds losing their feathers, discoloring and their eyes heavy. Philip was so disheartened he had to watch his love fade yet once again. One morning he woke with an idea—he built the longest rope ever and placed several hooks in it, with the help of the others he lodged it into the sky, when the hooks sank in they pulled the sky to the ground and his lover grew healthier but other creatures who were earth bound died and God took the sky back and with it he took Philips life too, for changing what he had created, the other bird died a short time later.” I pause again and Nierra frowns.

“That’s not a love story.”

I can’t help but smile. “I’m not finished yet. One day a beautiful woman walked close to where the bird had died, her arm linked with a very handsome man, her lover, Victor. He turned to his beautiful lover and asked her if she ever missed Philip and she found herself laughing much to Victor’s confusion, she told Victor how she didn’t have the heart to leave Philip so she sent a maid to tell him that she had been cursed and transformed into a wingless creature. Victor laughed and asked Lauren if Philip had actually believed the maid and she smiled saying “Yes, yes he did.” The end.”

Nierra looks more appalled and I can’t help from laughing. “That’s a horrible story,” he declares.

“It’s only a story.”

Nierra’s face softens and he kisses the tip of my nose. “It’s a very long story for the small amount of humming you did.” He is fighting laughter.

“Maybe I added a bit to it… maybe a lot.” I laugh now and so does Nierra, I do wonder why I got so carried away with the story and then I know. I didn’t want Nierra to stop looking at me, like the way he was looking at me now.

“I would pull the sky, moon, sun and stars down for you.” His silly declaration makes me laugh. But his serious expression causes the laughter to die in my throat. “I mean it.” Nierra’s breath brushes my cheek, causing a shiver of pleasure to race through me, I don’t know what to say and words can’t express what he means to me, my lips feel so right on his, we are made for each other, he is mine and I am his.