Chapter 15

Despite her anxiety, Miriam was eager to see her father again. Though they had exchanged letters, correspondence was slow due to the increasing castle security. She had little idea of how her father fared, since he disliked elaborating on his illness in the letters. As she entered the drawing room, she saw her father was talking to Lady Lucia, little Isabel bouncing on his knee.

"Miriam!" Isaac of Rae eased the little girl onto her mother's lap and stood up.

"Papa!" She rushed to her father's open arms. Not only was Isaac's color much improved, his movements were less frail than when she left him. She hugged her father close.

Finally relinquishing his daughter, Isaac took her face in his hands and examined it carefully. She had matured during these past few months, but her eyes were troubled, and she seemed sad. The easy smile that usually graced her mouth was gone, replaced by tension.

"Miriam?" he asked, concerned. "Is everything alright?"

Without preamble, she asked, "Why have you come here, Papa? I told you in the last letter that I am doing well. You need not worry about me."

Frowning in confusion, Isaac drew out a letter from his coat pocket. "Did you not send this, requesting my presence?"

Miriam saw her seal, then opened the letter. The content chilled her heart. Though the writing looked to be hers, she did not write it. The letter asked her father to join her at Pelicana and told accurately of what she had been doing. Unnerved, Miriam cleared her throat and handed the paper to her father.

"Why, yes," she said, her voice unnaturally high. "Yes, I now remember. I must have written it during one of those nights when I couldn't sleep." Aware that everyone in the room was looking at her strangely, Miriam forced a smile. She led him back to the sofa he was sitting on before her arrival. "Tell me, Papa. How was your journey?"

Isaac eyed her dubiously, but did not pursue the question on his mind. "It is rather tiresome for an old man like me to be traveling." Miriam, laughing, clasped his arm and assured him he wasn't old. "Your Uncle Collin would have insisted in coming along. You know how he is. I assured him, however, that it is enough for Ethan to accompany me."

Her eyes shining, Miriam asked, "Ethan's here? Right now?"

Amused, her father pointed to the door, where the handsome young man was waiting patiently for Miriam to notice him. With a squeal, Miriam dashed to him and laughingly leaped into his arms. He, knowing full well what to expect, lifted her off her feet and swung her around in a circle a couple of times.

Heart aching, Adrian stood by and watched the rapture on her face. She was talking animatedly now with the stranger, her face flushed with excitement. He knew then that she had never exhibited such familiarity when he was with her. Reluctant to draw any unwanted attention to himself, he threw a last glance of despair before forcefully turning away. He didn't hear the rustling of fabric, nor see Lucia looking at his disappearing back in concern.

Miriam led her father to the seat in the gazebo overlooking the water. Jordan followed at a respectful distance, far away enough for them to hold a private conversation. Isaac sighed, leaning over the railing. The water lilies were in bloom, their petals opened in welcome to the sun. Blue and red dragonflies kissed the surface of the water, circling around each other.

"You know, what I missed the most all these years is this garden," he said. "There is no place like it."

"You didn't tell me any of it," Miriam replied without heat.

"I didn't tell you a lot of things because I never expected to be back here again."

Miriam nodded. She took her father's veined hands and squeezed for reassurance. After a silent pause, she said, "I'm glad you're here, Papa. All this time I thought I was proficient in the Art, I never realized how much I depended on your support. These few months have been quite challenging."

Her father smiled fondly and patted her hand. "It was time for you to learn to fly on your own, my daughter. Sooner or later, you're going to have to learn to trust yourself." Switching to a serious tone, he asked, "How is the king?"

Miriam shook her head. "I can't say much. Only that this is one of the most complicated cases that I've ever had to deal with."

"Ah, so I see."

"Papa, will you promise me to stay with Ethan at all times when you're here? The political situation has gotten volatile, and I don't want you to get hurt if things happen."

Noticing the urgency in her voice, Isaac frowned. Her plea was almost desperate, and quite alarming. He pulled back, examining her face for any indication of the origin of the problem.

"Is there something you aren't telling me, Miriam?" he asked finally.

She was quiet. "No, Father." When she looked up, her eyes were full of tears. "Please be careful, Papa. You are my whole life, and I don't know what I would do without you." She started to cry.

Her father gathered her up in his arms and ran a comforting hand through her hair, all the while making nonsensical noises of reassurance. His nose smarted with unshed tears as well. She was his little girl, his entire life, his reason to stay alive. Though he kept it from her, he had been worried sick about her well-being during these months of separation. His daughter had never been exposed to the complexities of politics and of the greater world. Though knowledgeable, she was also naive, looking through the world in her childlike innocence. How was she to get on in such a complicated place like Pelicana?

He had pored over every one of her letters, trying to glean from the lines what she was not telling him. He knew how the castle censor systems worked in times of trouble, and he knew what was important was often left out. When she requested his presence, he was ready to set off right away, until Collin talked some sense into him. It pained him to see his daughter so unhappy.

"I won't live forever," Isaac said when her sobs eased somewhat. "But I'll always be with you, my dearest girl."

She tried to smile, but her face was an embarrassing mess. He kindly patted her shoulder and handed her a handkerchief, looking elsewhere until she had cleaned herself up. He waited until she had composed herself before asking, "Now, how is that young man of yours?"

Her face was blank for a moment. "You mean ... Adrian?"

"Why of course, our young chap of a First Counselor," Isaac said, his eyes crinkled in his smile.

Miriam bursted out laughing, as he expected her to. "Oh Papa, he's no young man of mine."

"Pish posh," he scorned. "He's blind and silly if he doesn't appreciate you for the gem you are."

Miriam smiled wistfully. "Papa, you know I can't have any young man without resigning as a Healer. How will I ever pass on all that you've taught me otherwise?" She paused for a while, thinking. A breeze blew through her loose hair, and she caught a whiff of cinnamon spice and smoke. The afternoon gleamed of late summer. Had it really been that long ago when she first arrived at Pelicana? In a few short months, her entire world view had changed.

Although Isaac had quit smoking, he still carried the unused pipe in his coat pocket. His fiddling of the pipe was a familiar gesture to Miriam, a sign that he was about to tell a story.

"As you know, healers were originally priests and priestesses. Needless to say, they were not allowed to marry because of their religious vows. When the division between the two was established, the Elders removed the ban on marriage for Healers. Healers at that time could marry.

"In the early history of Healers, there was a beautiful woman Healer, Lakisha. She had married a brilliant swordsmith, and they were happy together. They had been childhood sweethearts, and their love continued into adulthood. They lived comfortably, though not affluent. The couple's pride and joy was their precocious twin daughters."

"Then one day, Lakisha was summoned by a wealthy family in town to treat their son. He had a severe case of pneumonia, and so Lakisha visited him constantly for several weeks to take care of him. As healers, we deal with the physicality of a person, thus propriety between healer and patient must be respected, regardless of gender. However, as you know, because of the very nature of men and women, it is difficult to keep that propriety. It was no surprise, then, that the rich man's son began to care for the beautiful healer, and she for him. In a reckless moment of passion, she betrayed her marriage vow to her husband."

"Now, from Lakisha's account, we know that she only had a temporary intercourse with this man, but the damage had incurred. Years later, she and her husband began to develop symptoms characteristic of syphilis. Lakisha's husband was puzzled as to how he had contracted this illness, for he had been faithful to his wife. The only possibility, then, was that his wife had not reciprocate his faith. They died miserable deaths, alienated from the person they had pledged their life to, leaving two orphaned children in the lonely world."

"Now, the Elders were concerned about this, for Lakisha's story was not singular. Many women healers, in fact, had followed similar fate into adultery. It is my belief that this was caused by the general prohibition of interaction between the two sexes at that time, and that healing exposed women to such unfamiliar interaction that they knew not what to do. But to prevent the destruction of families, the Elders dismissed all married women healers and forbade women healers to marry. The men can marry, however, because the Elders were assured that men had more control over their natural impulses."

"Men can be just as fallible as women," she said fiercely, angrily pacing the length of the gazebo.

"Yes, I know," her father sighed, running a hand through his gray hair. "But my point is to illustrate the layers of social problems and concerns at the time, which are true even today. During that period, we had a widespread paranoia of venereal diseases entering the home, a supposed place of refuge. Husband and wife were dying together, contracting the disease usually through their unfaithful spouse. At the same time, the very presence of women healers raises questions about women's place in society that we are still not ready to answer today. You see, the ancient feminists of whom you devote so much time were not entirely radical."

Miriam colored, unaware that her father even knew about her secret stash of dangerous feminist books. At her sheepish smile, Isaac laughed. "Yes, I knew all about those mysterious packages that you used to get from the city, Miriam. I may be old, but don't think you could fool me for a bit." He winked at her.

They basked in companionable silence. At last, Miriam asked, "Father, do you think the Council would ever repeal that idiotic rule prohibiting women healer from marriage?"

Looking into the distant shore of the lake, squinting his eyes against the sun, Isaac thought for a moment. "You know, I think this would be the right time for change. If our thinking had not progressed from the age when healers' first emerged, then I would be severely disappointed by the human race." He smiled at her and took her hand. "I, for one, would sure like to see you get married to a fellow you love."

"And you wouldn't mind having grandchildren, I reckon!" Miriam declared.

Laughing so hard that tears dampened the creases around his eyes, Isaac nodded. "Yes, Miriam. I shall like very much to have grandchildren."

She threw herself into his embrace and said, "Oh, Papa. I've missed you so much."

Isaac clasped his daughter close to him. "I've missed you too, Miriam."

It was Miriam's idea for her father and Ethan to visit Glass-smith Marcus. The trio found the man bending over his hot glass, swearing vehemently as always. Shaking his head with an amused smile, Isaac shouted over the roar of the furnace, "Good day to you, my old friend!"

The pontil dropped, the half-formed bubble of glass drooped into amorphism once more. The man's face split into a wide grin. Despite the grime on his clothes, he pulled Isaac into a great clasp.

"Fancy seeing you here again, my friend," Marcus boomed. He thumped Isaac on the arm with his burly fist, to which Isaac responded with a good-natured wince.

"I'll have you know, it's good to see your ugly face again," Isaac responded.

Feigning indignation, he pulled the giggling Miriam to his side. "Never you mind your father," he whispered loudly. "You inherited all your beauty from your mother, I assure you." Gesturing to her father, he declared, "Your father is as ugly as any in Pelicana."

Isaac laughed heartily.

"Well, come in, come in. Have a seat," Marcus urged, swiping items off of his scarred table. It was only then that he noticed Ethan's presence. Marcus froze, sending a hostile glare at the young man.

Scowling, he demanded, "Who is this young chap here?" He pointed to Miriam. "I'll wager he's another one of your suitors." Miriam shook her head violently, but that didn't change Marcus' opinion.

To Isaac, he said, "I tell you, Isaac, you ought to watch your girl carefully. She brings a new man around for me to scare every few weeks. Before you know it, she'll have teams of young men banging down your door, disturbing peace."

Isaac took out mugs from one of Marcus' cupboards, making himself quite at home. He gestured for Marcus to bring the ale. Working his mouth around the foam of the ale, Isaac said, "This is Collin's dear boy, Marcus. Frankly I'm surprised that you haven't noticed the resemblance between them, for young Ethan here looks exactly like Collin when he was younger. Don't you think?"

"I suppose," Marcus grumbled. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. "Still, I tell you, your girl brings too many strangers to visit me. Just the other week, why, yonder First Counselor stopped by, bright and early. Tells me he has his eye on your daughter. What was I supposed to do except scare him off?"

Isaac signaled for another pint of ale, downing that in one gulp as well. "You still grumble as much as ever," he said to his friend. "Don't worry, Marcus. Miriam knows to take care of herself. You'll understand this better if you have a daughter of your own."

Marcus snorted into his mug, sending foam flying everywhere. "As if I want one of those to worry about. No thanks, Isaac. You're not going to fool me."

Seeing that the two men were about to become very, very drunk, Miriam motioned for Ethan to follow her out. Ethan politely took his leave of the two men, but Marcus just grunted before waving him off. The young friends managed to withhold their laughter until they stepped safely out of earshot, where they bursted out their giggles.

Clutching her stomach, Miriam gasped, "Oh Gods."

Ethan slumped against the wall, wiping his eyes of tears. "It is like every new year's eve when your dad and my dad get drunk together, isn't it?"

A little more composed, Miriam finally said, "They drink more than any young men in our village, I reckon."

Slinging his arm around her shoulder, Ethan teased, "Oh, I don't know about that. It's not like you spend enough time with people your own age to know."

Working a frown on her face, Miriam looked at her friend indignantly. "I haven't seen you in months, and yet you waste no time to start teasing me again." She pouted.

"Of course," Ethan replied flippantly. "You're a sister to me, Miriam. I am thus entitled to tease you." Reaching out, he caught Miriam in his arms and rubbed her head with the heel of his palm for good measure.

Miriam was sputtering when she emerged from his grasp, just as he knew she would be. Her eyes narrowed dangerously at him, but he just grinned. Taking off, he shouted to her behind him, "Catch me if you can!"

Hiking her skirts up to an indecent length, Miriam sprinted after him, laughing. As they ran past the soldiers' quarters, she could hear whistles and catcalls behind her, but she didn't care. Ethan ran deftly up the stairs and ducked into the castle, and Miriam redoubled her efforts so as not to lose sight of him. Ethan's hesitation at the maze of corridors was evident. Miriam caught him around his waist as he turned a corner. Her impact threw both of them off-balance, and Ethan hit the stone wall of the corridor, hard. He grunted, but held Miriam tightly so she wouldn't fall.

"Damn, Miriam," he whined after he caught his breath. "Must you run into me that hard?"

Miriam shrugged, examining the bandages around her hand. Her wounds must have opened again during their collision, for some blood was visibly seeping through the fabric. She hissed as she unraveled the bandage to examine the wound. Sighing, Ethan swatted away her fussing hand. Very gently, he used the clean side of the bandage to dab away the rest of the blood.

"I still caught you," Miriam said.

Ethan laughed. "So you did."

"What's your forfeit?" Miriam asked playfully.

In the same spirit, Ethan tugged a strand of her hair. "Forfeit? You'll be lucky if I agree to continue caring for your dear bits of grass in your yard. I had to go over every day this month to water them, don't you know?"

"What's going on here?" Adrian's voice demanded from behind.

Breaking away from Miriam rapidly, Ethan offered his hand. "Ethan Macky."

Adrian saw Miriam flushing, cradling her hand to her, and all jealousy exploded within him, kicking aside his reason. Adrian made no move to take Ethan's hand, dismissing him with a glance. He took Miriam's arm, drawing her away from Ethan. Awkwardly, Ethan withdrew his hand, wiping his palm on the leg of his trousers.

"You should be more careful with that," Adrian said to Miriam, annoyed. "What were you thinking, running around like that?"

"We were just playing," Ethan shouted after them.

Scowling at Adrian, Miriam wrenched her arm away from his grasp. She effectively elbowed her captor, eliciting a groan from Adrian.