Remembrance

Looking at Talis, it was almost as though sunlight radiated from him. She would have known even if she hadn’t been told that this boy would rather die than betray what he believed in. He was like something out of an ancient story of great deeds and men too good for the world. For just a moment she shivered as she remembered that all those beautiful young men died very young.

“You are not well,” Talis said softly, then put a strong young arm under hers and led her to a chair. When she was seated, he knelt by her and looked deep into her eyes. He looked at her as none of her own family had ever looked at her.

In the next moment he had placed a robe about her knees and had stoked the fire, and when he turned back to her she knew that he knew she was dying. Again, it ran through her that she wished this boy was hers.

She did the best she could to straighten herself. She must not give way to self-pity. In just months she was to meet her Maker, and she had a great deal to atone for. She could not go to God knowing that she had left her children’s lives dependent upon someone who was not her blood relation.

“Come, my son,” she said weakly, “you must sit by me. Let me look at you.”

Instantly, he sat at her feet and she held his face to the light. Perfect skin, perfect teeth, open, honest dark eyes.

She took her hands away from him. “You have asked to marry Callasandra.”

“Yes,” he said. “It is what I most want in the world. Callie is—” He hesitated and blushed, then looked at the fire.

“She is very young,” Alida said sternly.

“Not too young,” he said, smiling.

She could feel his conviction, his feeling that this was something he must have.

“You are the son I always wanted and never had,” she said softly.

Talis frowned at that. “Philip and James are—”

“Yes,” she said quickly. “They are good and kind but no matter how many children a woman has, to lose one leaves a hole in her heart. Do you know that my hair turned white after I thought I had lost you in the fire? Do you know that all of us were demented over the loss? Your father never fully recovered.”

“I had heard,” Talis said softly.

She stroked his hair, so soft, the curls twining about her fingers. There was a time in her life when she was capable of great love. If she had been able to bear her husband a son like this from the first, her life would have been very different.

“And now you wish to leave me so soon after I have found you? To marry and leave me?”

“We will remain here if that is your wish.”

She smiled at him. “If you marry you will give me none of your time. Young men think only of the young wife waiting at home in bed for them.”

At that Talis gave a soft laugh and looked back at the fire. She could see that his mind was full of touching his sweetheart, kissing her, and, seeing this, Alida’s heart was further hardened. Once she had thought of the same things as this boy, but look how her life had turned on her! Kisses did not last; property did.

They were silent a moment, alone in the room, Talis sitting on the floor, Alida leaning back in the chair. The only light in the room was from the fireplace, its glow enclosing them.

“Do you know that I am dying?” she asked softly.

“Yes,” he answered, not looking up at her.

“How do you know?”

“You forget that I did not grow up in this rich place. I have lived on a farm. You learn to look into the eyes of an animal and see when it is in pain.”

“Only three people know: you, my maid, and a soothsayer I consulted. She says I have at the most two years.”

When she said no more, Talis’s hand crept upward and took her small one in his large, dark one.

“Will you help me?” she asked, her voice pleading.

“I will do whatever I can.”

“I have missed all of your life. I missed holding you as a baby, watching you take your first steps. I have been able to spend no time with you as I have with my other children.” She clasped his hand in both of hers. “Oh, Talis, I love my children so much that I am very selfish with all of them. I cannot bear for my daughters to marry and leave me.”