Chapter 8: A Broken Hedge Between the Realms
The days after the march into the forest were spent quietly at Caer Aldene. Margaret collected herbs with her sister and cousins. They rode their horses, embroidered trousseau items for Margaret and Malva, read aloud to one another, played chess. One evening, Elora had sung in her still-strong voice, the lay about Tamlyn, which she had memorized, having heard it only once. Margaret thought she would explode, that all her heart was written on her face. When the song was over, Elora had looked at Margaret.
"Heavens, child. It is only a song."
Life in Aldene went on as normally as possible. But always they kept a lookout for news, kept gazing toward the silver ribbon of the Briar, wondering, yearning. Many new fenceposts had been erected of late in the village, Margaret had noticed. She knew that there housewives were burying their valuables, just in case...
She had ridden alone, because Rivanone had said she was old enough to come and go as she pleased, especially with the men gone. Rather than head directly back to the castle, she desired to take a longer ride, elated with her new independence.
She had on a wide brimmed straw hat over a narrow, crocheted mourning cap that was no more than a lacy band over her head. It had been agreed that it was unseemly for morale's sake to send the men off to war while already dressed in full mourning; black had been put off for appropriately somber colors. She wore a dark blue dress. The afternoon sun was warm on the side of her face and she turned from it. As she did, her eyes fell on the way down to the knoll over the brook where she had met Tamlyn. There was no reason why she should not now ride down there. As she did so, she was assailed with doubts. "Am I not overstepping decency, to return to a place where I met a man of whom I cannot speak to my own father, or to Rivanone, because they would think me mad, and keep watch over me in my bower…? But he shall not be there, Gareth saw him leaving to join the battle and no one has yet returned from there. I go to a place where I have been in the broad light of day, with my family, many a time." So she chased away the doubts and rode down to the brookside.
She dismounted and tied Star to a tree. She slipped her boots off of her feet, and daubed them in the cold water. She sat at the root of a willow where she and her sisters had often sat and played; the bark was worn smooth. It was soothing and pleasant to be there. She removed the straw hat, and laid it in the grass.
Margaret began to sing softly to herself a song she had heard Burda singing as she scrubbed the floors of the bower in spring; she watched the waters flow by over the rounded stones, the withies trailing in the water.
My truelove has a-gone away
Beneath the sky, beneath the trees
My truelove has a-gone away
Please God, he'll come again to me.
Please God, he'll come again
Beneath my sky, beneath my trees
Please God, he'll come again
A-riding down the lane.
I lifted my eyes, what did I see
Beneath the sky, beneath the trees
I lifted my eyes, what did I see
I saw him, coming back to me.
Star whinnied and shook her head. Margaret sat up and looked about her. Star nickered again, stretching her head in the direction of the opposite bank of the brook, and a horse answered back.
Through a lattice of willow, on the grassy bank, she saw Tamlyn's horse, and him dismounting. She cried out in joy and ran out into the shallow water, and he met her in the midst of the water, lifting and swinging her around in his arms.
But when he put her down, there was a dismay of joy and sorrow on his face. Tears he quickly dashed from his eyes with the thumb and forefinger of one hand, and he smiled, but could not speak for a moment.
"Precious Margaret, you have done well. Briardene has found victory in the Cloud Mountains. Your father is well. Rejoice in this, my love!"
Relief flooded Margaret's face, she sighed and closed her eyes momentarily.
"Margaret, there is so much of which we must now speak, although I wish it were not so, for things can never be the same."
Margaret was alarmed at his words. She felt suddenly chilled, as if she could taste that his words were not going to be pleasant to hear. "Tamlyn, what mean you? What manner of man are you? Who are you, whom I love?"
"Margaret," he began, then led her to the far bank and offered her a seat on the mossy knee of an alder. They were well screened from the other bank by the willows. "I was christened the same as you."
"My father and mother are Lord and Lady Coltyn of Braewode. I was knighted on the warfields of Jonsmoor, when I defended my master, Lord Clewode, Duke of Cynrose, after he had been unhorsed and badly wounded. He rewarded me with a manor that was to be mine when I wed his daughter. So I rode in great joy back to Caer Cynrose, only to find that the daughter was fair to look upon, but my having saved her father was insufficient to win her admiration."
"Lady Coulomb," Margaret murmured, looking to him for affirmation. She found herself wondering jealously for an instant whether he had loved Coulomb. She looked down, hoping her cheeks did not redden. He continued.
"She let it be known that she wished to wed one of higher rank; I was only a low-ranked lord's son. My father kept only a deacon, not a priest; we had no castle, but a manor hall. My father was never a great warrior; he was injured as a boy and bears a withered arm. And it was true that her father's offer had been rashly made in a moment of gratitude, though I did only what I deemed my duty as his squire.
"So I asked to be given leave to ride out again to the wars, thinking that if I advanced my position, I might not find her so averse, and I would not be insulting the Duke, of whom I was and am very affectionate, by abandoning his offer. He had taught me well and was himself, besides a tactician, the bravest of warriors, always pushing himself into the hottest part of the battle, and a venerable man; his own sons, three of them, having squired for him and become knights.
"As I rode out with my new squire and the hot-blooded new war-horse that my lord had outfitted me with, I felt only relief to be away from Coulomb's scorn. I had never questioned accepting her as a bride, but I had never expected to be put in a position of forcing myself on an unwilling maiden, and it had been an oppressive awareness.
"So I rode out somewhat brash on the new horse, but soon had some trouble with him, and had to rein him in considerably. My squire was also of a hot and impatient blood, and he had ridden far ahead of me. It was late in the afternoon when we had started out, thinking to pass through this wood in a couple of hours and lodge at an inn he knew of. Soon it was quite dark. As I rode this skittish beast around a curve in the road, a number of deer burst out of the trees into sight, only a few yards away, and the horse reared suddenly. I was ready, but he continued to rear and then to buck. One of the reins may have snapped, for I thought I had a good grip, but suddenly was plunged down, and knew no more.
"The next I knew, I was awakened by a fearsome noise, and could feel the ground vibrating beneath my head, which jangled the already blinding pain. I lay there in agony and unable to move, Margaret, I was sure my doom was sweeping down upon me, and could only beg God for mercy!
"But instead the noise suddenly ceased, and I heard many lively horses stamping and snorting, and voices speaking in a mellifluous language I knew not. The moon was dark; against the brilliant stars I saw shadows gathering round me. Then one leaned close, and the light grew and lit up a face that peered in to mine-- a face whose beauty and ferocity could not be described. I was captivated and at the same time petrified by the fire within the green eyes that looked into mine.
She spoke to me. "Young son of Adam, fear me not, for you will die; but I may yet be able to save you. But if you choose to receive this healing, you must come with me, and may not return to your world. What do you choose?"
For me, it seemed and easy choice-- death, or life. I knew nothing of the life she was offering, but I wished not at all to die. I could not speak or move, but she un
derstood my faint whisper, and I was given from her own fingers a drop of some liquor from a flask. It burned from my lips down through me, but the fire abated to warmth, and the warmth had a honey sweetness. I was borne away already passing into a delectable sleep.
"When next I woke, I lay on a bed. The air I breathed was cool and sweet with fragrant balsam. Entrancing songs drifted through the walls, which appeared to be entwined branches; later I knew that they were in fact the roots of trees. I knew not how long I had lain there abed, but my fingernails had grown noticeably and needed cutting, but my hair was combed and I felt clean as a child after a hot bath. My clothing had been replaced with this green gossamer and deerskin boots, in place of the heavy wool and hide that had been my own clothing. I never saw my mail again, either. But I soon forgot such things.
"Margaret, near my bed sat a lovely creature. When she saw I was awake, she arose, and smiled. She left, and soon returned, with the Lady who had spoken to me. I rose and bowed, but something stayed me; it felt wrong. Her presence in that room made it seem a cathedral. Her face was like a lioness in nobility, yet the fierceness of the eyes was tempered with a pure fire of compassion. They probed, but did not pierce, my very soul. Finally she spoke.
"'I am Galorian; Queen of Elvenkind. You, Tamlyn of Braewode, have received healing in this place and are well. Remember that you have agreed to my terms, that you are now my subject, and may not return to your own world, for the ransom is costly. Merry met, and we will call you 'Sievan', meaning "foundling” in our tongue!
"'Fear me not, Sievan,' she said, reading my thoughts, for I had begun to wonder what sort of bargain I had struck, and with whom. 'There is much you must come to understand!' she said. And soon indeed did I realize how little we know of those who live under the Mountain. They have been in this land from long, long ago; ere that they came from the East from a land they remember only as Middangeard, and I know that men could sail east of the dawn and west of sundown and never come to this land. Of those that came over the White Sea, but few remain, and these are so caught up in the present, they are not concerned with their provenance, but will only say that it was Time for them to leave Middangeard and come to this place. And a time may come when they must also give over Ardinéa to the sons of Adam; and go on to a realm of which I could learn nothing, but to which all the Elves seemed to look forward as we do to Heaven.
"And Heaven it seemed to me, for I was treated from the start as their dearest brother; never did I hear a cross or demanding word, nor aught of discouragement or disagreement. All persons there were lovely without compare of face and form and of mind and heart as well. All things they did well, from the most menial tasks, which I saw even the Queen perform as if she were dancing with the King. Faces beamed with cheer and health and wisdom, and their tongue-- I would ask them questions on any subject at all, just to hear them discourse in language loftier than the highest poetry of man-- I could not even begin to translate into our halting tongue even the most prosaic line of their hymns of praise to their King...whose seeming absence at first puzzled me, as did many things-- but I get ahead of myself.
"When they arrived here from Middangeard, this was a land devoid of people. I know not how long they were here before us, for their time passes not as ours. But there were apparently creatures in this land that the Elvenfolk subdued, long ere Brendan's folk arrived in ships from over the White Sea. Creatures one believes only to exist in our tales for wee children, but in fact are borne witness to in the Scriptures; which blew fire and smoke; which had leathern wings and fearsome claws. These they slew, planting the barren hills with trees and herbs, they did all this knowing that Man would come someday; and we came. They relinquish the land, not without sorrow, yet having a hope of yet another place to which they go. It was they who seeded the Cloud Mountains with vigorous brambles, discouraging our penetration of their last stronghold on Ardinéa. For they have tasks yet to accomplish. They fight wars of which we suspect nothing..."
Tamlyn trailed off momentarily, looking away. "It is ghastly warfare, Margaret, against ancient things which were better not described; lest it besmirch the fair light of day... horrors we might describe in tales as monsters or behemoths or even dragons. Both males and females don silvery mail-- such as I have on-- see how fine it is, like a fishes' skin, and so light!-- and we would ride furiously, heedlessly into the forest against these beasts, and rarely, but it does happen, one of the Folk would fall under loathsome teeth and claws..." He shuddered visibly, but then shook himself; the shadow passed, his eyes were once again clear. "But usually we return singing to the Mountain Home, all faces around me wild with victory. Even in this way do they pave the wilderness for the inroads that mortal Men must make.
"As I have said, it seemed to me Heaven, and still does. I myself will never age, nor die. I suffer no injustice, malice or even annoyance from any one of them; only acceptance, kindness, and merry smiles. But I differ from them. I am a son of Adam-- a sinner.
"The longer I lived within the sphere of their beauty and goodness, the more acute this awareness came to be to me. It is not their habit to sin, for I believe that they are not under the Curse of Adam, as we are. That is, not directly; but you have perhaps heard it in the Scriptures how that all creation groans with the curse, like a woman in labor, and eagerly awaits liberation. That the Elves have their sorrows and groanings, I did not doubt, nor did I doubt that they were created of God, for His mysterious purposes. There are those who believe that the Elves are from the devil, that they pay him tribute of human lives, that they refuse the sacraments because they are demons. No! They have no need of sacraments, which are only shadows of things which are beyond our comprehension...they comprehended. But such understandings remained beyond my grasp. I began to feel myself and the weight of my impurity like an unbearable burden in their presence."
Margaret was listening closely, oppressed by her own burden.
"Galorian called me before her one day. She said to me, 'You are sick in your soul. I have healed your body. Only the High King can heal this sickness you suffer now. Are you willing to be healed?' I said to her, 'Yes, my Queen. Where may I find the King?' She said, 'He shall come to you. Go you into your chamber and rest.'
"'I went there and laid on my fragrant couch in the darkness. I confess that I gave full vent to my pitiful tears, released by the hope of the healing I might receive. Then He came. But not as I had thought to see Him, for He was no elf, Margaret!...His garments shone like the sun...His face..." Tamlyn was smiling, yet his eyes were growing tearful, but he did not seem aware of it. "If the chamber had seemed as a cathedral when the Queen was there, it seemed the limitless pillars of cloud and sky and stars and light, in the presence of the King.
"I could see as He spread His hands that there were horrible scars on His wrists; I knew without looking that the ankles and His ribs bore also the same marks, and I knew that the wounds were my own wounded soul; that He took my reproach upon Himself, being pierced as I was pierced, yet with wounds that healed...Yes, Margaret; it was that very same Christ whose praises we sing, yet He was real to me, not a carved image hanging on a wall or a face rendered in colored glass! There was no response possible but to fall before Him, for I was undone, but He lifted me up. His embrace took away the isolation and replaced it with lovingkindness, with the knowledge that I was His and He was mine. Suddenly I understood the enchanting madrigals with which the Elves fill the air, night and day, for they live always in a Presence that overshadows all else; they are in love with Him and so they dance through their days laboring for Him, years passing as though in hours.
"But from that day I began to be filled with a longing that my family might know of this King. I missed my parents and brothers and sisters. I began to long in my heart to see the faces of any human being, that I might convey to them in some way the praises of their Redeemer, for the lack of knowing Him and the resulting emptiness in human hearts became keen in my thinking. For of such things the Elves do
themselves at times; if you have ever seen a lovely vista, or heard a nightingale cry, and your heart has been lifted beyond the menial concerns of daily life, and your heart has sung praise, and it has wrought an unexplainable joy in your heart, that causes you to praise the undying Spirit, it may be that you have unknowingly heard the songs of the Elves.
"So I began to go with those who rode out to the borders of the forest nearest to human habitation. The Elves love nothing more than to ride, in bands and processions, in parties and alone. After I came to know the wood, I often rode alone, and I was never questioned. Then I came here to Cloud Brook.
"How I used to love to see you with your sisters and cousins and all the little ones and dogs, splashing and playing among the willows. When first I saw you, you were but a young maiden; I confess that it was Lady Hildreth who first caught my eye; blond and tall and slim as she is, she could nearly pass for an Elf. But it was you, the little one, who captured my heart. In time, I confess, I thought less of conveying to you the presence of the King, and more and more of being in your presence.
"You think, perhaps, that my love is light, for I hardly know you, and were I as other men, you would be right. But my time with the Elves has had some effect on me...perhaps being so long among those whose motives are seldom obscure has cleared my eyes to see into the hearts of these persons I have observed. I know you well, my love, and without knowing or intending to, you have stolen my heart and it is only yours, do with it what you will.
"Your sister has a simple heart, and does good to those she loves, and loves all who move in her sphere, which is defined by the ties of family and station; she has no wish for it to be otherwise. For you, things are more complicated. You probe and question what you see; you wonder upon such amazements as Nature displays before you; you rebel in your heart but obey in your deeds. Yes, my Margaret, I know you well, even that which you would hide from others, and love you all the more. You are a sinner as I am a sinner."
Margaret whispered unknowingly to herself, "a sinner..."
"I came here again and again, watching you grow into a maid. I hoped only to see you once in a while, for I felt bound to you more than all others I watched from the wood. Then I watched as you came here alone, and crossed the brook. I saw you remove your sandals, lift your hem to cross, and go into the apple grove. I could not restrain myself, but approached you, and spoke to you. It was a thing I ought not to have done, for I might have betrayed the Elves; but I reasoned that I knew you by then. I knew that in your questioning mind you could see through such lies as are unwittingly told about the Elves-- should the issue ever come up. And as one in love I denied the possibility, foolish as it might have been to do so, that it would ever be a difficulty.
"Anyway I had never thought to encounter you alone again, yet to my surpassing joy, I saw you returning to me the very next day. Foolishly in my joy, I crossed the brook. This brook was given to me to be understood as a boundary line. Again, I abused the trust of the Elves. My desire for you had begun to cloud my thinking.
"When next I saw you, I had waited for a sight of you. I knew there was death in Caer Aldene, and that if you lived, you must have suffered loss, and my heart heard you crying. And I knew of the attackers over the mountains and my heart languished to see them probing the forest and finding a way into your country. And then you came down again to the brook, so weary and in mourning.
"I would be more honorable if I could say honestly that I am sorry for not restraining myself in a moment when you could not resist my embrace, but the truth is, that save for the moment when the King healed my heart, there is no greater moment of happiness, pure or impure, to which I could refer in my life than that of holding you in my very own arms, Margaret. I wished nothing more than to stay forever locked in that moment with you, and if the truth be told I wanted much more than that.
"But I know that priceless is our purity, that it is a treasure to be given and shared with another who has kept pure for the day in which they are forever united-- a day which I dare not hope for. Please don't misunderstand me, for I know that in Ardinéa, there is much that is winked at between men and women ere they are wed. But I have come to see it as so sacred...Why should I kiss this one, and then that one, taking joy where it does not belong to me, hoping that by having a taste I might find the one whom God has for me to be with?"
Tamlyn stopped, and fell silent for a moment, looking down. "How can I speak of these things, when I am not free to partake of them, but have been conducting myself as though... Margaret, there is no greater desire in me than to make you my bride, but it cannot be," --she went numb and there was a rushing sound in her ears; he forced the words out-- "and I will tell you why. But there is more that you must know ere we can speak of such things."
He took a deep breath, and with an effort, set his face and continued. Margaret's face was against her drawn-up knees now; he resisted the compulsion to hold her. He looked instead at his horse, eating of the rich grass. "Within days, all under the mountain were preparing for battle. I suited up and rode here, for I wished to bid you goodbye, for I knew not if I would see you again in this life. I saw instead a man I had known well when a page, Gareth by name, and I thought, perhaps if he sees me, word of my appearance in battle-array will reach the one I love. He saw me, even cried out my name. Satisfied, as I must be, with that, I flew away to rejoin the Elves."
He became restless and paced about, gesturing. "How can I describe to you the riding in procession of the Elven Folk! A multitude of hammered silver bells hang from their horses' bridles, and the steeds themselves are long-legged palfreys, each having a name known to it, and they are high-spirited and nervy, yet gentle and well-broke; they will not lose their riders if it means their own lives- I had no little appreciation for this trait of theirs. The battle-mail they wear is light and fine, yet impenetrable by sword or claw. Their banners stream long and shimmering, maids and men together riding, headlong and smiling, fierce and bright, singing full-throated.
"We rode against no frightful demons this night. No, instead, our adversary was the very briar hedge that kept the mountains for the Elves alone. The fair roses together with the black thorns fell before our flashing swords, as hay before men scything. The horses' hooves trampled the green leaves and cleared a path into the heart of the mountains. When dawn blushed, we saw what we had done, and rode back to the mountain.
"Parties of a few Elves each went out and surveyed the development of the impending attack. The Elves have no love for any violence of itself, but neither do they hesitate to protect men from what might be worse. And so they so subtly lured the Vallards up the valley into the strait where they would meet the arrows of Briardene's men. And they so subtly sang my lord your father's men to the ledge in the ravine where Briardene could take advantage of the lined-out enemy. And we saw the terrible slaughter of the Vallards in the canyon, the rocks running with their blood, and the smattering who escaped were hounded back to the Sea; enough were left that they might return to Europa and tell of the terror they had at the hand of the Ardinéans. Briardene, thanks be to God, is secure for now.
"But Ardinéa is changed forever. The Wilds of the Cloud Mountains have been penetrated and seen by the sons of Adam, and having seen it, they will not be content to remain west of them any more. The hedge is broken down. The day when the Elves must retreat even further into what few strongholds will be left them is in sight. From now on, they must hide themselves from man's view until they must altogether vanish from this land, unless perhaps to cling to hidden places in the mountain peaks.
"That is what I must now tell you, Margaret." He paused. His face was a study in conflict, and the back of his hand wiped his eyes. "I may come here no more. As long as you live, my heart belongs to you alone. But it was not mine to give you...nor was your love mine to win. Tonight, this very night, the Queen will ride forth on her night-black horse. All her court will follow on earth-brown and I with the elf-knights on cloud-pale mounts. We wi
ll go to slay the last of the bramble hedges in these foothills, and then to the mountains, not to return. In so doing I will be slaying my very own heart, and it may not rise again."
Margaret had risen from her mossy seat while he spoke this last, and put her hand on his arm. "Sievan, is there no way? You say the Elves are full of love and compassion; why then would they not release you?"
"Margaret, I chose this life of my own free will. If I left them, I would live in a half-world where your years pass as if in days for me. I would see you age before my very eyes, and our children and grandchildren; then live on through centuries, utterly without companionship; a monster in the world's eyes, till the end of this world. I must live with the consequences of my decision."
"But you had no idea, when you made that decision, the cost--"
"Does a wife know what the pain of childbirth will be, or the exhaustion of nursing a sick husband or child? When she finds out, is she released from being a wife because it is harder than she imagined? Is she free to go, or would not she be called unfaithful, a deserter of her vows, an abandoner of her children? And her husband, does he know the anguish of watching his bride transform into mother, seeing her body and her very nature change and age, and become something altogether different than the lass he wed? Is he then released, because it is discomforting? If a new soldier goes to the warfields, and finds that slaying human beings and seeing his friends and brothers and enemies alike dying in blood and pain before his eyes is horrifying, is he allowed to flee the battle, or is he who does so considered a coward and a traitor?
"And all these would I be if I left behind those who pitied me and saved my life, and who showed me freedom from my burdens, and who brought me to know the King...Oh, Margaret, I had thought that if you only loved me, I should be able to bear the parting. Now I see that it makes it harder. I am so sorry..." He fell silent, for she had turned her face away, and fought to remain composed. His hands twitched and he forced them not to reach for her. In this way they stood, both at a loss. Minutes passed. Margaret moaned, "You said the ransom was costly. Yet could I, I would pay it; only name it!"
Tamlyn drew a very deep breath and let it out slowly. "There is only one way I can be free to return to the world of men. I will tell you of it, but it is not in me to ask it of you. I have done you enough harm as it is, my lady." Tamlyn spoke quietly, not looking at her directly.
"After the last time that I saw you, I returned to the mountain after riding long enough that I hoped the bloom of passion had passed from my countenance. But when I returned exhausted to the Mountain, Queen Galorian was waiting to see me. One look into those eyes was all that I could do. She said, 'You have set your eyes on her whom you desire.' I felt her eyes looking into me. 'You have caused her to desire you as well. Your heart and hers are bound together. Even for the noblest sentiments, this thing is not to do.'" Tamlyn paused; he did not repeat Galorian's next words. You are Elvish-fair in her eyes. She is a child and her love wants testing. Has she the heart to win you?
He continued, "She said that to be ransomed out of their world, one could lay hold of me, openly, in full view of the Elves, and lay claim to me. Hear me ere you speak, Margaret. There would be some sort of a testing, something fearful. But no matter what happened, the claim would be nullified if you-- if the person were to let go of my body." Such a one as is able to endure the terrors is deemed worthy, and my claim on you is relinquished. Pure, complete, honest love casts out fear. No light love can prove out the trial of terrors! Galorian had said.
All the questions that had run through Margaret's mind and heart in the past weeks formulated themselves suddenly into one, and it was as though she had read his mind and heard Galorian's words. She cried out, "How can a sinner like me have such a courageous love?" Her eyes were suddenly riveted on his, with a vehemence bordering on anger in her face. "Tamlyn, it is my love, not yours, that I consider light; I have questioned my own love for you a hundred times and don't find the answers to be within me. Since Gareth told me that he had seen you, I-- I have desired you, I have thought on you, I have wanted your embrace and your company, I treasure every word that has passed between us. And above all, I live the minute that you held me in the forest, right or wrong, there are no other moments, Sievan, my dear one! But love? What know I of the kind of love that you have for me, that you would allow yourself to be taken away from an unending life surrounded by beauty and goodness, to company with a sinner like myself? That you would dwell among sinners, know suffering and eventually death...for my love? Loving you has never cost me anything yet. I would like to think that I would die to win you, but how can I hope I could pass any sort of test, when I see only my selfishness as against the beauty of your love for me, against which my love looks faint and wounded in my own eyes…"
She fell silent, struggling again for control, her lips pressed together and chin quivering, her eyes no longer flashing, but still regarding Tamlyn's face. Tamlyn listened closely to all she said, wondering. "Margaret, only Jesu, the High King, can heal that wound."
"Jesu..." She let out her breath."But how can I hope to meet Him?"
"Precious one, you are very near to Him already. His eyes have already searched you, nothing in you is secret from him--" Margaret almost gasped-- "And He loves you, with compassion and mercy. You have surely seen the pictures of Him hanging on the cross. He has done this in love, willingly, to win you from the power of sin. He willingly became the Agnus Dei qui tollis peccata mundi, the Lamb of God who takes away the sins of the whole world. Do you believe that, Margaret?"
"All my life I have heard of it in church, but...those eyes- the eyes that see my sin-" she stopped, and looked at Tamlyn. "But it isn't my sin they look at, is it. It's me! And my sin is in the way, and- and the cross- the cross takes it out of the way." Words that she had heard in Church came roiling up in her mind in a fountain of understanding: No man has greater love than this: that he lays down his own life for his companions.
That was His love, and the eyes that smote her conscience wanted to take the guilt away and set her free, yet she had clutched it to herself, thinking to cover it up! "Aye, I always believed it, and now I understand it! He takes away sins...because He loves us."
"Then you have only to call upon Him, Margaret, for He is attending you, and will heal as He has promised." Tamlyn knelt down in the grass, and held his hand out to her, and she knelt beside him. He released her hand and folded his together, closing his eyes.
"Oh High King of Heaven, hear our prayer. We are but your little children and in need of You, oh Father. We are but poor sinners before you, but You have loved us with love that conquers sin and death. See before You Lord, Your child, Margaret. She believes that Your Son Jesu lives, He who died to take away her sins and rose again, and I pray that she might know you, my King. How I thank You, Lord, for all You are...and for bringing to Yourself the one whose love I have selfishly craved for my own." Here he broke off, though Margaret could sense that there was more he was not putting into words. Margaret was reminded of the nun in the sickroom praying in like manner, so conversationally, free from formalities, yet in greatest humility. It was as if the King were before Tamlyn, and could hear every word. Margaret looked down, wishing to speak what was in her heart. She saw again the piercing eyes behind her closed lids, and began to cry out her words.
"You find me in this place, Lord, and it shows that I am willful and follow not what is pure in Your eyes, but my own wantonness. I have enjoyed love's embrace, when it was not mine to receive. I have claimed that I love; when I know not what that means. Oh Jesu, High King of Heaven, there is nothing in me that I might stand approved before You. But I cannot bear to go about a pathetic sinner any longer! Hear my cry, have mercy on me, Oh Lord! I believe that You have, on the cross, paid for my sin. Take from me my sins; my willfulness, my desire and deceitfulness, take from me my loneliness, my confusion, my self-pity, fears and weakness; my longings and my loves, all these things and more, Lord, I place
at Your feet, I lay them down, for they are more than I can bear alone. I thank You, Jesu, for being my own King. Your wounds are my healing. Please, oh God, give me faith, and the strength to follow You." Then her words and tears were spent. And it truly was as though she could see Him, knowing with the eyes of her heart that He was there.
She heard Tamlyn murmur a soft Amen.
There was a sound of horses' hooves, and she felt the softest kiss on her head but was reluctant to look up or let the moment end, wrapped as she was in Heaven's arms. She heard the faintest whisper, "Go with God, Margaret," and replied only,
"Not farewell."
Through the curtain of willow branches trailing in the water, she could see her that brother Aelfred, still in a tunic stained with mail-rust, had reined in near where she had tied Star. "Maggie! Maggie, where are you?"
She was alone, and rose, feeling light, and as if a tight band had been removed from her chest. She was happy to see her brother. She mopped her tearstained face quickly with her kerchief and stuffed it back in her hanging pocket. Aelfred saw her come from behind the willows, and cried out excitedly, "We have returned victorious, Maggie! We have slaughtered our enemies, and lost not one of our own! Come quickly, Mags, everyone is gathering in the Great Hall!" He rode across the stream and pulled her up behind him. "Why are you on this side of the brook? I can't wait to tell you about it. Come!"
They crossed the stream and Margaret jumped down from Aelfred's horse, pulled on her boots and picked up her hat. She led Star beside a rock, and jumped to her back from the rock. She urged Star after Aelfred, who raced up the knoll and along the trail to the road. Her heart was a roil of emotions, fear and happiness and hope and love, and the wind blew back tears from the corners of her eyes, but she smiled, for there was a peace beneath it all that sustained her, like the water-smoothed rocks over which the brook flowed clear.