She rubbed her forehead with her fingers. She felt a headache coming on. She was just thinking too much, she told herself. Wearily, she picked up the book nearest her on the table. She sighed, and then began to read.
Four years passed in that manner. Isabel and Valen and their daily routines. Nole and Kie caring for the horses. They'd built an addition to the stables, for their sleeping quarters, fireplace and all. Zenie grew into a woman, quietly and gracefully. She grew less timid, though she still spoke only when spoken to and didn't say much when she did speak.
The war moved away from them farther to the south and eventually across the sea, so far they hardly knew of it anymore. Isabel thought little of Devon—at least she tried. Though she noticed not a day went by when he didn't come up in her thoughts, however casually.
The passionate spirit that Isabel had once had had mellowed with the fine tuning of her daily routine. Breakfast with Valen, a morning spent in the library reading or playing chess. Valen's time in battle had turned him into a less talkative man and as she and he spent most of their time together, neither had anything new to tell the other. So they went on in a kind of quiet companionship. The kind that accompanies old marriages.
Kie had never again tried to romance her, perhaps seeing the futility of it. Her mind was set. He knew her stubbornness from the past. And yet, he was stubborn too. He had refused to leave this time, refused to give up on her completely. They spoke politely and that was better than nothing, he told himself. And he lived on that.
Nole and Zenie had developed a friendship over the years. No one knew when or how it had started. They were both so quiet. But they were seen often walking a polite distance from each other, chatting softly, laughing lightly now and then. Zenie had a tinkling laugh, like bells, and Isabel could not remember hearing it anywhere but in response to things Nole said.
Their relationship could account for Zenie's calmness. She had been so anxious before and it had all melted away over the years. She and Nole would work in the garden together and had a collection of dried herbs, labeled carefully in the big shed that held the gardener's tools.
They spent quite a bit of time together and as a result Isabel rarely had a moment with either of them. Kie seemed to spend most of his time alone now, wandering a little restlessly over the castle grounds.
He had been patient for so long, he often thought to himself. And one could be patient only if one believed the thing waited for would actually come to pass. He had seriously been doubting for a long time now that anything would ever change.
It had all begun when Nole confided in him about Zenie. About his love for her and his desire to make her his wife. Things were progressing nicely for them, he observed. Nole was only waiting 'til he could find a place for them before he would ask her. Kie alone knew this secret, though it would be obvious to anyone who saw the two together that they would soon be married.
He saw how love and friendship had grown between them steadily and in contrast how he and Isabel had grown more distant, more cordial and polite. He had even begun to call her by her adopted name of "Isabel" instead of her childhood name. And with the name "Mandra" seemed to go any spark of the lively girl he had once known so many years ago. She truly was a different person now. And he longed for the girl she had been, the familiar laughing eyes. Now her eyes were empty, like stone. She had taken to wearing spectacles to read, and read so much that she sometimes left them on, sloppily settled on her nose, making her look more like an old spinster than a young woman of 25.
It had gone on too long like this, he decided. He had thought that being patient would be enough. He saw now that he was wrong. He should take action of some sort, probably should've done it long ago. But it wasn't too late.
It took him a while to decide what to do. But once he had it seemed so perfect it surprised him he had not thought of it before.
He would find Devon. Yes, it was brilliant! Unless, of course, he actually found Devon alive and well and desperate to return to Isabel. He could be trapped in a dungeon or camp somewhere. He knew this was possible. He did not deny it. But what drove him on was the idea that he could find proof. Proof that Devon had died years ago and that Isabel was freed from her vow to him.
Sad as this would be to her, it seemed sadder to Kie that she should go on the way she was, determined to live out her days alone, in reverence for a disappeared lover who would never return.
And, he knew that if he left, the little building next to the stable could be fixed up. Perhaps become a home for a newly married couple. He discussed his plan with Nole a few days before his departure.
"So you really want to do this?" Nole asked seriously.
"It's the only way," Kie answered. He was anxious to start, to do anything. "She'll never marry anyone else unless she knows the truth," Kie said and began pacing the small room.
"Kie," Nole said gently, "you may not find anything."
"I know," Kie said, exasperated with the endless possibilities. "I know," he repeated, "but I might find something." He pleaded his case. "If I could in some way prove it to her, then..." he searched for words, "she'd have to—"
"I know," Nole said. "It's a big undertaking," he added solemnly. "Are you prepared for that?"
"Yes!" he answered quickly. "I mean, in my head, I am. I know it'll be hard and maybe if I knew how hard, I wouldn't go. But I must." He looked imploringly at Nole. "I just can't stay here any longer!" He paced slowly. "It'll just kill me to see it all go on like this... forever." He looked at Nole. "Tell me you understand," he said. "Am I a lunatic?"
"I understand," Nole said simply. "You're not a lunatic." He smiled.
Kie smiled halfheartedly back at him. "Then I'll go," he said with finality. He sighed. "I'll just... go." He waved his hand in the air.
Nole said nothing.
Chapter 20
Isabel's life had become very predictable. It followed a certain routine, but she was not unhappy. Though not a day passed when she didn't think of Devon, it no longer made her sad. She began to feel lucky to have known him at all, to ever have felt that kind of love for anyone. A part of her still held onto the belief that he would one day return, but she had given up looking for him stepping over the southern horizon. She had become used to the disappointment of him not returning. It had become a way of life. She had done it so long, she didn't even realize anymore that she was still waiting for him. She thought of him as a cherished part of her past. And it would not be sad to her if she never felt that again. She had felt it once.
Over time she had begun to see Devon as perfect. The absence of a good person tends to erase their faults so that they seem flawless in memory. When he was with her, she had often felt he was too good to be true, and apparently he had been.
She had watched Nole and Zenie effortlessly grow closer and felt a pang of jealousy. In her heart she had truly believed that real love could never really last, but here it was in front of her in the form of two of her closest friends. They were happy. And God was allowing them to go on this way.
It was at this time she started to see the flaw in her theory. Love could go on. Two people could be happy. Then why couldn't she? Why was she kept from it? Where was Devon? Where was the happy life they had promised each other? These thoughts made her too sad and she usually pushed them aside. But every time she saw Nole and Zenie together, her eyes would cloud over involuntarily.
She knew Kie had once wanted her and she was not oblivious to the longing looks he gave her when he thought she wasn't paying attention. Something always kept her from giving in and letting him love her. She always turned away when he looked at her like that, and put it in the back of her mind. A strange sense of honor and obligation kept her tied to a man who had long ago disappeared, and built a wall between her and someone who loved her in the present.
She lived in her own little world now. Of books and stories of other people's lives. Of imaginary wars played out on the chess board. She rarely ro
de anymore because the physical alertness it caused snapped her back into a reality she'd rather not experience anymore. So she ate, she slept, she read, she walked, and her days had turned into years that way.
She did not even know of Kie's absence 'til he had been gone nearly a week.
Isabel walked her usual walk on this late spring day. Up over the hills, near the woods and around in a loop. She passed the stables and saw Nole busily brushing a brown mare. They had not spoken in a while, so she wandered over to see him.
She leaned quietly against the door frame and watched him brush, oblivious to her presence. Finally he did turn around to put the brush down and saw her. He immediately smiled.
"Isabel," he said, walking to her. He gave her a big hug. "How've you been?" he asked.
"All right," she answered. "I finished that book you loaned me. This morning."
She sighed.
"What?" he asked her seriously.
"Nothing."
"Is it because Kie left?" he asked.
She looked up suddenly. "What?"
"I thought you knew, Isabel."
"Where did he go?" She was suddenly alert.
"Kargid," Nole said gravely. "I'm sorry."
"No, no, no." She covered her face with her hands. "No, not again... He's wanted there, you know. For something they hang men for." A look came over her face then. Of anguish, but what made it worse was the tiny bit of acceptance mingled in with it. As if she had long ago realized her life would be filled with pain and this were merely the latest blow.
"He didn't even speak to me," she said quietly. "We haven't spoken in so long... it's about Devon isn't it?" she almost whispered. "To see where he is."
Nole nodded.
"Oh God... I can't lose him too..." She shook her head and wandered out of the stable. Nole followed her, of course. All the way down to the lake. She sat on the log and stared out at the blue water.
"He'll be careful, you know," Nole said from behind her.
"You think Devon's dead," Isabel said to him after a pause.
He didn't answer.
"It's all right," she assured him. "Everybody does."
She turned around and looked at him then. "Sometimes even I do," she said. She turned back to the lake. "Sometimes I wish he was dead."
Nole sat down quietly beside her.
"I think if he were dead I wouldn't have to wonder... but that's not true. He could be dead. Sometimes I think I don't care one way or another as long as I know which one it is. But I guess I don't get to know," she said.
"Maybe you will," he said. But it was not really comforting. They both knew what he meant.
It rained a lot that spring. Nole had decided that the shed next to the stable would never be fitting for a wife and family. So, with Valen's permission, he had begun to build a little cottage for himself and Zenie near the edge of the woods.
It was hard working with wood for the cottage in the rain, and tending the horses too. Zenie and he hardly saw each other except when she'd run out to bring him food or a drink of water. She always made him sit and rest with her for a while. He was not the kind to overwork himself, but that was just her way. Extra careful with other people, and strict with herself. Nole had that same quality, Isabel noticed. It was clear they were a good match.
A good match. She had once been part of such a couple. Or had that been only a dream? Sometimes she believed it was. But if it was a dream, it was better than anything in real life. It was better to think it had really happened, here in this enchanted place. To know that it was at least possible.
But it was only a flash of time. Her time with Devon had been too short. It was meant to go on and on and never end. It was wrong that they were apart. She consoled herself with the idea that she had been younger then. Everyone should be happy when they're young, she decided.
She'd had her share of happiness and the memories to prove it to herself. But now was not the time for that. That time had passed. Life would just BE from now on. It could never soar as it once had.
She took pleasure in the little things now. In a good book, the way air entered her lungs when she went for a walk. These things gave her happiness now. Not as extreme as the happiness she'd had with Devon, but it was nice in its own way.
And the rain beat on into early summer. She worried about Kie constantly. She knew what news he would bring of Devon. She did not dare to hope it would be good. She didn't bother to think of that aspect of Kie's journey at all. She only thought of Kie. And how foolish it was for him to go. Why should he worry her like this? Why should he put himself in danger over her? She only hoped he'd live through this latest crazy scheme and come back safely. She prayed and she waited. It was all she could do.
She gave up praying around mid summer. Her stomach had begun to twist into knots every time she begged God for Kie's safety. As if she were merely lying to herself to think he would return. Or even be well. She braced herself for the inevitable. Braced herself against the possibility of another unresolved mystery. Another disappearing man who would not return to ease her spirit or her mind.
She became bitter and more of a recluse. There were days when she did not leave her room. Though that was a nasty habit and she knew it, she couldn't help herself. She curled up in the seat near her window and stared out over the southern hills, resting her head against the cool glass.
She did this in the daytime and sometimes at night. At times she would merely stop in the middle of reading a book or tending the fire as if the window had called to her. She would wander over to it obediently and sit down once more, to keep watch.
Late summer came and went. Days grew shorter. Zenie visited her in the evenings and sometimes Valen would insist that she at least take a short walk around the grounds with him. She did this, willingly, and enjoyed it too, but never would've bothered to make herself do it, without him.
Fall came quietly, casting a shadow over the land. A chill hung in the air and cut deep if one stood outside in it long enough. It suited her, this cold weather, she thought. It fit her mood nicely. The crispness of the harsh air, the twirling dead leaves spiraling down from their summer perches. The wind eddying them around. The crackle of them under her feet as she walked. She ventured out alone again, and often.
Valen watched her with pity, but there was nothing he could do. Nothing anyone could do. He let her go off alone and tried not to worry about her.
Nole did the same. The cottage needed only finishing touches now, and Zenie helped him with that. They were happy, but neither could forget how forlorn Isabel looked each time they saw her. They discussed asking her to do things with them, but decided that their happiness would be irritating to her, so they let her be.
They were right too. In spite of herself, Isabel found them irritating. She was happy for them, but she could only stand to spend a certain amount of time with them before she felt like screaming. It was so unfair, she thought. That they should be happy and she should not. She wished them well in her heart, but tried to avoid being around them when they were together. It made her too sad. Especially now, with Kie gone too. Why did life have to be this way for her?
She came in one evening late, after a long walk. In the parlor she took off her wraps and pulled a leaf out of her windblown hair. A fire was already going nicely, so she sat down lazily in the chair nearest it, and stared at the flames. She fiddled absentmindedly with her hair.
The wind howled outside. It was a dark night, with no moon.
She had sat there for at least half an hour when she heard someone step into the doorway. The hall was dark, but she could see by the white hair that it was Valen standing there. He stepped into the light.
"You look tired," he said gently and sat across from her in the other chair. He reached over and pulled another stray leaf from her hair that she had missed.
She looked at him with empty eyes as he did this. "Oh, thank you," she said, watching him throw the leaf into the fire
. "I'm not tired," she told him and smiled to reassure him.
Still she did look worn out. Maybe not even physically, he thought. Maybe it was just her spirit. Her face had a look of exhaustion on it. Perhaps from thinking, not walking as he had originally thought.
"You won't sit here all night, will you?" he asked. Her gaze had drifted back to the fire.
"Oh, no..." she said. "I promise." She smiled again kindly and looked at him. "You don't have to watch me," she said quietly, "or worry."
He looked a bit relieved and glanced at his hands. "I suppose you're right, of course," he said. He rose to his feet then and took the hand she held out to him. "You often are." He smiled, then he squeezed her hand and left the room. He gave her one last look at the door, and then forced himself to leave her. He was worried about her, but she would never appreciate him admitting it or showing it to her. He went back to his room to retire for the night.
An hour or so later it began to rain heavily. Isabel didn't really know how long it had been because she woke with a start to hear tapping on the window. The fire was low and the room nearly completely dark. She rose with stiffened muscles and stretched herself before fixing up the fire again. She may be sleepy, she thought, but she couldn't go up to bed yet. She'd just listen to the rain for a while. Stare at the fire. Think of nothing. Think of days gone by, but mostly think of nothing if she could help it.
In the quiet stillness of the room, with only the steady tap of rain or crackling of the fire, the outer door slamming made a huge racket. It startled her so much she actually jumped. She had been standing at the window, staring into the blackness and watching the rain streak down the glass.
Now she started walking towards the doorway, thinking the wind must have blown open the outer door. She only got halfway across the room when a figure appeared in the doorway, blond hair wet and messy, serious look on his face.
She stopped in her tracks and laughed happily. "Kie!" she cried. She started to run to him, but he held up his hand and then walked slowly towards her.
He looked so serious, she was afraid of what he would say. "Kie, what..." she began, but he shook his head and looked at his feet.