The Duchess (Montgomery/Taggert 16)
Claire would have said something to Trevelyan, but beside the shelter were two tall men, both with very dark skin, both wearing only loincloths. The men’s bodies were painted with blue stripes and there were feathers in their long hair. One of the men was playing a flute. He was playing that awful tune that Trevelyan had said was a celebration of death.
“What is she doing?” Claire asked. “Who are those men?”
If Claire’s body had not been against Trevelyan’s she would not have known that he reacted to her question, for his face didn’t change. His expression was still hard and unreadable, but she could feel an odd little catch in his chest.
“Nyssa is about to die,” he said softly.
Claire wasn’t sure she heard him correctly. She twisted in his arms. “She’s what?”
“Nyssa is about to die. It is her time.”
Claire could only blink at him in shock. It was a moment before she understood what he was saying. Did he mean that her five years as priestess of the Peshan religion were up and now she was to die? “Let me down,” she said. “I can run faster than you can walk. We’ll be able to stop them.”
Trevelyan looked ahead at Nyssa as he held on to Claire. “We will not stop it.”
Again it took Claire some time to understand him. She stiffened in his arms. “Not stop it? Are you mad? This is Scotland, not one of your heathen countries.”
He stopped walking and glared down at her. “You are not to tell Nyssa that you do not believe her religion to be the true one. She has asked you to come because she cares for you. She wants to say good-bye to you.”
Claire thought perhaps she was asleep and dreaming. Or had Trevelyan gone mad? “This is ridiculous. Put me down!”
They were close enough to Nyssa that Trevelyan could see her face now. Nyssa nodded at him, so he set Claire to the ground.
Claire wanted to run to Nyssa, but she didn’t. She smoothed her gown, straightened the emeralds at her throat, put her shoulders back, and walked forward. She smiled down at Nyssa. “What is this I hear about death?” she asked, smiling. “It’s a lovely day and tomorrow promises to be even lovelier.”
Nyssa smiled up at her. “I wanted to say farewell.”
“Good-bye? How absurd. Tomorrow, why don’t we go to London? I can get Harry to take us. Have you met Harry?”
Nyssa’s laugh rang out. “There will be no more tomorrow for me.”
Claire looked at the two men flanking the enclosure. They were formidable-looking creatures. Claire sat down on a pillow and leaned toward Nyssa and began to whisper. “Scotland is a free country. You’re safe here, but if you don’t feel safe from those two, I’ll see that you get to America. I’ll take care of you as long as I live.”
Nyssa, smiling, bent forward and kissed Claire’s cheek. “You have been kind to me. I will say a word in your favor when I get to the land past death. I will be in great favor there, you know. I will remain beautiful forever.”
/> Claire took Nyssa’s hand in her own. “You will always be beautiful in this land, too, no matter how old you get. Beauty is in a person’s bone structure. Nyssa, this whole charade is really absurd. You must get up from here and come back to the house with me.”
“No,” Nyssa said. “I mean to die here. This is a beautiful spot, is it not?”
Claire looked at Nyssa, then at the two men by the enclosure, then at Trevelyan who was a mere two feet away. “Would you please reason with her?”
Trevelyan, with great sadness in his eyes, looked at Nyssa and shook his head.
It was then that Claire began to think that this death threat of Nyssa’s was real. She clutched Nyssa’s hand tightly. “Nyssa, listen to me. You aren’t in Pesha now. This is a different land and there are laws here. We can call the authorities and these men can be put away. They can be stopped from threatening you.”
“But no one is threatening me,” Nyssa said softly, still smiling. “This is my choice. I made it long ago.”
“Yes, yes,” Claire said impatiently. “But that was when you were in another country. Now you’re in Scotland and—”
“It is all the same, wherever I am. I am still the Pearl of the Moon, and I swore that I would die at the end of five years.”
Claire began to feel hot. She took Nyssa’s other hand. “But you’re not in Pesha now. You no longer have to abide by their hideous, cruel laws. You’re free now to—”
Nyssa removed her hand from Claire’s and stroked her cheek. “You do not know what my country is like. I laughed when Frank told me that you thought these Scots crofters were poor. You do not know what poverty is like. Not real poverty. You have never seen anyone starve to death.”
“Of course not, and in America you’d never have to see such poverty again.”
Nyssa put her fingers to Claire’s lips. “I grew up in such poverty. My mother bore two children and died when she was seventeen. I have already lived two years longer than she did.”