Chapter 38: Rest and Relaxation

Liala, Morane and her troopers started their way homeward after spending three days with the penitents of the Southern Enclave. Morane had asked Liala to send her troops through each room of the temple to secure anything of value they might find.

They found quite a large sum of gold and jewels hidden beneath floorboards and in secret portions of the walls. Each room was thorough destroyed by the time that the troops left but no one cared.

Morane had ridden off to the nearest town to tell the people there that the temple was to be torn down stone by stone. The town could break up the stones to use for an aquifer or a roadway or for a cooking pit if they chose. The undertaking would begin the following week and the church atop the hill would be no more.

“That was different from what you expected,” Liala said as they rode away.

Morane could only nod.

“The men there seemed quite nice,” the duchess continued. “I will confess, my experiences with those who practice your religion had given me a different view.”

“Those you met did not practice my religion,” Morane said. “My religion is practiced by the men you just met and by thousands more just like them. I do not claim to know what religion Drell and his followed practiced but it bore no resemblance to Serrat.”

“I see that now,” Liala told him. “That was what I was trying to say. I’d like to hear more about Serrat and his beliefs.”

“I doubt they are much different from the religion in your country,” Morane said. “The king said something that I’ve found to be correct. Every religion, at its core, is the same. We teach the same philosophies. We urge the strong to be kind to the weak; the wealthy to aid the poor. We teach humility and civility.”

“And obedience,” Liala noted.

“Yes,” Morane admitted.

“That is what always troubled me about religion,” Liala said.

“It is not necessarily obedience to a god or to a government,” Morane explained. “It is obedience to a principle. We expect people to adhere to their beliefs no matter the hardships they face.”

“Like you did,” Liala said.

“To a certain extent but I am not a good example,” Morane told her. “My beliefs wavered many times during my captivity. There are many times I should have stood for someone weaker and I did not. There are many times I should have provided aid or comfort to someone and I did not.”

“I believe your god will forgive you for your lapses,” Liala told the troubled man.

“Will he?” Morane asked. “Perhaps. The bigger question is whether I can forgive my lapses.”

“You forgave the men we just met,” Liala pointed out. “They suffered the same doubts as you. They committed the same sins you claim for yourself. You gave them absolution. If it matters, I absolve you. I have not been in your situation but I know of people that have. The rule is survival. You do what you must do in order to see the next sunrise. That’s what you did. If you had stood for someone weaker, you would have been struck down. If you had given aid or comfort, you would have needed it yourself very quickly. And who would have given it to you? I’ll tell you. No one. There is a member of my mother’s staff that spent seven years in captivity during our last war. Speak to her when we get home. I will introduce you.

“She will tell you the exact thing I just did. She survived because fate or destiny or a god had bigger plans for her. The same is true with you. Morane, Joseph is the king of Azkoval but you are its conscience. You are its spirit. In many ways, you are the embodiment of this country. You have seen the worst of men and yet you manage to somehow find the best in everyone. I am happy that you survived. I am proud to call you a friend and a companion.”

“Your words do me honor,” Morane answered.

“I speak only the truth,” Liala said. “I will not lie to you. I decided to undertake this mission with you because I enjoy your company and I enjoy your outlook on life. I need that. Joseph needs that. He needs a friend like you.”

She gave a chuckle.

“We all need a friend like you,” she amended. “Joseph is not so different from you. He saw life at its worst but he still shields himself from that which might cause him harm.”

Morane turned in his saddle to stare at the young woman beside him.

“King Joseph?” Morane asked rhetorically. “The man that would charge single-handedly against any threat if it saved a man from getting a thorn? Is that the Joseph of which you speak? My dear, I watched that man do things that would leave a normal man quake in his bed if he were to dream about them.”

“I am not saying he lacks courage,” Liala amended. “I have never been into battle with him but I’ve heard the stories. If even a quarter of them are true, he is a legendary warrior.”

“And if all of them are true?” Morane cut in. “For I believe each tale I’ve heard is based upon fact.”

“If all of them are true, he might be the most fearsome warrior ever to walk our world,” Liala said. “We have stories in my clan about a man with no fear that stood up to 300 foes at once. That man pales in comparison to what I’ve heard of Joseph’s prowess. But, again, I do not speak of physical nerve. I speak of his inability to let people know him. My friends and I have done our best to befriend him but, in truth, we know no more about him than someone who sees him from afar. He is never unkind to us but he is also ... closed.”

“His scars go deeper than mine,” Morane said. “For years, he lived with the vision of his parents’ murder in his mind. These are people he viewed as invincible and they were slain by a coward. These powerful, all-knowing people were unable to protect him or themselves. He believes that he should have been able to stop the carnage. Instead, he fled like a thief. He believed that his weakness allowed his beloved Elena to die or be taken captive.”

“He was a child!” Liala exclaimed. “Do not tell me you believe that!”

“No, child,” Morane replied in a soft voice. “I do not believe that. But he believes it. He has spent his entire life protecting those too weak to fight for themselves and dreaming of reclaiming his birthright. Now he has done just that – and at quite a young age. The sad part is that he has achieved his life’s dream before a third of his life is over. Now he doesn’t know what do next. He cannot do what he desires. He cannot take his army and go on the march. He must, instead, sit in his dreary castle and watch other people live. But for all he has accomplished – in Azkoval and before he returned to these shores – he still views himself as a failure because he couldn’t save his parents.”

“You must help him,” Liala insisted.

“I would if I knew how,” Morane told her. “I would gladly take that man’s pain unto myself if it would heal him. But I cannot and I have no idea what to try. We’ve spoken of his life many times. I know Rucar has bared his soul to the king in hopes the king would do the same. We have both met with failure in our efforts.”

“There has to be something,” Liala said. “I ... I care for him greatly.”

“I know you do, child,” Morane said with a soft smile.

“Not in a romantic way,” Liala interrupted.

“If you say so,” Morane replied. “It matters not in which manner you speak of love. We all love him in our own way. He loves us just as much. It is his curse that he can never seem to find a way to show us how much he cares about those closest to him. His love for the faceless masses is evident. Every action he takes is to show his love for the people. It is for those he loves most that he cannot seem to find a way to demonstrate his feelings. All I can suggest is to do what we are already doing. We show our love to him and accept the love he returns in whatever manner it comes. And we continue to try to break down the walls he has built around his heart. Someday, we will succeed. There is too much love in his heart for the walls to stay in place forever.”

Four bare breasts greeted Joseph when he rounded the bend to the pool. Once again, his mind screamed at him that he should be elsewhere. Once again, his legs pushed him forward.

“You brought him!” Octavia said with excitement. Her exuberance caused her pale orbs to bounce on water’s surface. Julia simply laughed at her friend’s antics.

“I will turn my back until you are in the water,” Joseph said turning to his two companions. He found Elizabeth already bare to the waist and Catherine not far behind. The women had put on dresses so removing them was easier than taking off the buckskin trousers and tunics that Julia and Octavia favored.

Joseph spun back around and lost his footing in the mud. Elizabeth, small as she was, caught him beneath his arms and they fell into a heap on the wet ground. His hands found most of Elizabeth Burbridge’s most intimate anatomy as he struggled to rise.

“I apologize most sincerely,” he stammered. Elizabeth was sitting on the ground, mud splattered with handprints on one of her breasts and across her soft nether hair. She was laughing uproariously – as were the other females.

Joseph put his muddy hand across his eyes – and immediately regretted it when they started to burn.

“At least help me to my feet,” Elizabeth said, still laughing. “By the way, I think we are now betrothed.”

“Elizabeth,” Catherine said in a soft voice. Only she could see the look of terror on Joseph’s face. Her friend’s voice caused Elizabeth to look up at the king.

“I am very sorry,” Joseph said. He had managed to smear mud across his face and his stinging eyes had started to leak water from the edges.

“It was an accident,” Elizabeth said consolingly. She tried to get to her feet but slipped in the mud again. It caused her to laugh again. “If you help me stand, we’ll call it even. I’m not angry. It’s funny if you think about it.”

“No, it really isn’t,” Joseph said.

“King Joseph, from my perspective, it is hilarious,” Catherine said. “You are covered head to toe in mud and so is Elizabeth. Well, it seems there are a couple of places where Elizabeth has been cleaned. You’ll simply have to take your clothing to a side of the stream and clean them. They will dry in the sun while we play in the water. I’ll be honest, I enjoyed seeing that. I have always viewed you as ... as an infallible man. It is gratifying to know that you make missteps just like I do. The reason we asked you to join us is because we’ve been told that you are a great deal of fun when you don’t have to be serious. This is one of those times.”

As if to demonstrate her point, she reached down, scooped up some mud and smeared it across her own chest.

“Will someone please help me up?” Elizabeth asked. Her dress was pooled at her feet in a dirty heap. Joseph took in the spectacle in front of him. Elizabeth was normally perfectly turned out whenever she was in public. Even when she wore her buckskins, she ensured they were clean. Now she was a mess.

Joseph burst into laughter. He leaned over to help Elizabeth – and Catherine took the opportunity to push him into the mud again. He managed to avoid landing atop Elizabeth but he landed beside her with a loud splat.

“Catherine!” Elizabeth said, aghast that someone had pushed the king’s face into the mud. For his part, Joseph rolled to his back and stared upward. The sun was on its downward trek and silhouetted Catherine’s shape perfectly. The light dress she wore around her waist hid exactly nothing with the sun behind it. She looked down at him with mirth on her face – until Joseph grabbed her ankles and snatched her legs from beneath her.

She landed on her bottom beside him. For good measure, he picked up a handful of mud and smeared it across her face.

“Oh, you’ll pay for that,” Catherine said. Unmindful of Joseph’s station – and of her situation as a mere maid in the Burbridge household, she scrambled to her knees and attacked. It wasn’t until she was trying to get more mud into her hands that she realized that her boots were the last of the clothing on her body.

“I fear I must aid my king,” Elizabeth said. Before long, Joseph had two naked young women atop him as they wrestled in the mud.

“Hey!” Julia said. “That’s no fair! We saw him first – and he’s supposed to be undressed before you do that.”

The dirty trio stopped and looked to the pool where Octavia and Julia still waited. Joseph realized that he had one hand on Elizabeth’s rump and other only inches from the junction of Catherine’s legs.

He jerked his hands away as though he had touched a flame. Catherine stared at Julia and shook her head.

“Sorry,” Julia said sincerely. “It looks like fun.”

“It was fun,” Elizabeth said, laughing and sitting up. “Right up to the moment I got mud between my thighs.”

“Ooh,” Octavia said.

“And in my eyes,” Catherine added.

“And in my trousers,” Joseph said, shaking his head.

“That was me,” Elizabeth said with a smirk toward the pool.

“I guess we should clean up downstream,” Joseph said. “The pool isn’t the place for mud. I’m not sure how it drains – or if it does. It doesn’t stagnate so it must drain somewhere but I’m not sure where it is.”