Treatise on the Ethics of Vampires - five

five

I must admit, it took much longer than I care to recall for me to collect my wits after Rowan pressed his lips to mine. After closing my eyes, I lost all sense of time and sensation, other than a fuzzy sort of warmth, peace and languor envelope me. It wasn't a deep kiss-- chaste, really. He had me entranced by some unseen power. To this day, I am not sure if his siren's call would have led me away from Buckfast if my mother yet lived. But the power in that kiss bound me to him, sealed my fate, and there was none that could stand barrier to such a thing.

With a thunk, Grandmother entered, putting the stool and bucket of milk down. She said nothing as she fetched what we needed to attend my mother's body, now lain out upon the oaken table. Grandmother was dressing Mother in the linen tunica she wore upon her wedding day to my father. It was woad blue, with white embroidery upon the cuffs and neckline of vines, flowers, butterflies and bees. It was a gown of celebration.

Attending my mother's body was supposed to give me a sense of closure, according to the teachings of the Church. But it was so surreal as I picked up the pearwood comb my father had carved for her as a Twelfth-Night gift several years back. It too, had vines of ivy entwined with daisies. He polished and oiled it to a luster that made a utilitarian item an object of art and declaration of devotion.

With a trembling hand, I combed out her dark hair. Loose, it made her look younger than her forty years. However, to make wrapping her in the shroud easier, I plaited it in a four-strand braid. Each strand was a word in the mantra I repeated in my mind as I wove the tresses together. Please forgive me, Mother. Again and again, I repeated the words until they seemed to blur into a sting of sounds as my vision hazed with tears. With a scrap of blue ribbon the color of her dress, I bound the braid with a silent plea of understanding.

Both hands free, I wiped my face free of the moisture and looked up to see my grandmother studying me. Now that she had garnered my attention, she quirked an eyebrow and asked, “No news?”

Whenever Grandmother quirked that eyebrow, it meant that she'd do anything to stem the flow of liquid emotion from my eyes. “Rowan wishes for us both to leave Buckfast. Me, with him, as you know. And he wishes you to take the bride price and leave the village. The Abbey is no longer our ally.”

She smiled a wee bit. “I see. When do you leave and do I see you again, my girl?”

My hands began to worry the fabric of my brown tunica and I replied, “He says there are whispers about of witchcraft, and that the Abbey is whispering the same. Have you heard anything?” I wanted to know if I was truly that hated and feared or if he was lying to force me to him.

“He's right. Ellisa was full of it today. Said that with so many dead, there must be a reason, a curse upon the good people of Buckfast. I told her such an affliction has hurt more than this village, that the countryside is afire with it. She then replied that it must be a truly bad curse, for so many to die. That the people will find the source of the curse and rid the town of it. Rather than argue, I nodded and left. D'Morsang tells the truth, my girl, and his offer couldn't come at a better time for you. Heaven sent, it seems.”

I nodded my agreement, For some reason, it didn't feel right to tell her of last night's prayer he intruded. It gave me hope for the future, that maybe God did listen, hear and answer me in His roundabout way. It's as if one tells their secret wish to another, it won't come true... and I wanted to escape Buckfast, my history and bad memories. If Rowan was the way, I wouldn't dare thwart the will of God by sharing my secret hope with her. “I must pack tonight, since the morning brings a burial and wedding.” The magnitude of my statement hit me like a rock to the head, and I swayed in place for a moment.

“Aye, the end of an era and the beginning of a new. Did I not tell you that when one door closes, another opens?” She placed a steadying hand on my shoulder and gently squeezed. “You will take your mother's books. She spent years writing those herbals and they would serve no use in my hands.” Grandmother withdrew her hand, and went to remove a necklace she wore, hidden by her clothing. She lifted it up over her head and looked at it a long moment, before settling it down around my neck.

I lifted the pendant and studied it, for never before had I viewed it. I didn't even know Grandmother wore such a trinket.

“Your father was about twenty winters old when your grandfather died. Neddie ventured from smithing to fine crafts for a time, and somehow learned how to work precious metals. The gold was bought from a Crusader returning home. He made that necklace for me when his father died. Making it gave him a sense of purpose, and the meaning behind it gave me my sense of purpose renewed. 'Tis the most precious thing I have, besides you.” The pendant was circular, with one half in silvered relief, to mimic the surface of the moon. The other half had golden-red wavy rays of sunlight emanating from the rounded side. The top of the pendant had a bail that looked like a star, made of silver. It hung from a chain wrought of tiny silver and gold links. For years, I witnessed my father smiting metal to his will, but never had I seen such delicate work or fine metals attributed to him. Grandmother's voice pierced through my thoughts. “Your father said I was like the sun, moon and stars. Always there, never leaving him, just as the memories of his father would never leave him... or me. I want you to have the memento, my girl. It's only fitting.”

Tears welled up and I hugged Grandmother Bet with all my heart. “I thank you. I will cherish it always.” She returned the hug and spoke.

“I know you will, Lisbet. More so, knowing your father made it with love in his heart for his family. You were given a hard road to walk in this life, my dear girl. But trust that you are strong enough to wander that path, else why where you gifted with it? Trust in yourself.” She held me at arm’s length, and those dark blue eyes devoured my face. “I will miss you fiercely, my dear sweet girl, more than I can say. You look like Berengaria, have her skills, too. But you possess Nedward's spirit. Watching you from childhood to now, I have seen how folk treat you, and yet you tend to them the same as you would tend any. You have honor and integrity, Lisbet, and that counts for more than you can imagine in this world. Make sure Rowan D'Morsang understands just what a gem you are.” Her words touched me, and I realized that I would miss that wonderful old woman as much as I missed my parents. She winked and spoke, “Oh, and I've got a tincture of chasteberry made for you. Put some in his ale, it will cool his heels. Get to know him well before you bear children and complicate things.”

A small smile crept across my face. “Rowan asked a boon of me, to let us acquaint ourselves with each other before consummating our marriage. And he mentioned that he doesn't see any children in his future. I didn't inquire further with him, as that could be a very sensitive topic. Suspect he will tell me when he's ready.”

Grandmother nodded. “He seems a good man, but be wary until you know him better. The bane of man is his propensity to deceive in order to achieve an ulterior goal, usually at the expense of another. The old Abbot once told me that.” Concern was upon her brow like a crown. “I say these things not to fret you, but to prepare you for a life with a stranger. 'Tis true that many wed strangers, but those folk tend to be the wealthy making alliances to preserve their bloodlines and treasures. People of our station in life tend not towards such alliances and ambitions.”

The feeling of being swept out to sea overwhelmed me, and I despaired. What was I doing? Was I truly this mad to leave all I know? Yes, my mind answered without hesitation, I did my best by the village and yet I would never be truly accepted. When the very same lad that pissed upon me from a tree broke his arm a few years later, I upheld my oath to heal him. I set his arm, stitched up a gash on his knee and one on his cheek, and he healed quickly, and there was no thank you, expression of gratitude or the like. Most of the village wouldn't accept my potions or concoctions willingly. When I realized this, I told them all my mother had made them and sent them with me. With her as a filter, I was tolerated. Otherwise, I served my purpose, like hay in a cow byre.

Despite the apprehension I felt twisting my innards into Celtic knot-work, I wondered what life outside Buckfast would be like, and how it would be living as a normal person, free of taint.

The hope I felt growing inside was overshadowed by sorrow, unhappiness and colored with despair. What if I was leaping out of the pot and into the fire? What if Crispin was the lesser of two evils? What is done is done, my mind chimed in. I already agreed to leave with Rowan, escaping from the things I cannot change. My jaw clenched as I tried to not think of the unknown.

Grandmother tapped me on the hand, gaining my attention. “Come now, my girl. Let us finish tending your mother so she may be buried with honor.” She opened the silken package Rowan had thrust into her arms, revealing a person-sized bag made of ten inch wide strips of linen, sewn together. “I have never seen such a shroud made of fabric strips.” A hand wandered down one of the raised seams. The linen was yellowed with age and history.

“Aye, this is the first shroud I've seen not made of a single piece of cloth. He said it had been dipped in holy water from Jerusalem, so it may be from the Holy Land. Perhaps that style of shroud is commonplace there.” Her words seemed too loud in my mind.

A deep breath entered my lungs as Grandmother Bet started slipping the shroud over my mother's head, hiding the face disfigured from pain, and covering her, inch by inch as Grandmother worked it down to Mother's bare feet.

After she was completely covered, Grandmother helped me to bind the shroud, using strips of fabric, tied around first the neck, then the torso, hips, knees and finally the ankles. When that was completed, we then sewed the open end of the shroud shut. Neither Grandmother or I had a dry eye by the time the task was done. She buried her husband, son and now her daughter-in-law. Her world was just as vacant as mine, and soon to be emptier when I left. Until that moment of realization, I dwelt in my own angst, lost in the events that were to shape my future. It saddened me that she would be adrift in life, away from all things familiar and loved. I reminded myself that she wanted me to go, and that helped a little. Of my remaining family, I didn't want to let her go, not now, not after losing my mother so unexpectedly. I turned to my Grandmother and held her in a tight hug that she returned.

“I will miss you, Grandmother. Terribly so.” I tried to keep a calm voice that belied the tears running down my face.

Her words brought me comfort. “I know, and I will miss you as well. Heed my advice, Lisbet. Look to the future, for nothing stays the same. Do not forget the past, but learn from it so your future can shine that much brighter. I love you, my dear girl. After tomorrow, a new life begins for the both of us. Let us rest now. It has been a while since I have had such a tiring day.”

Nighttime crept over Buckfast and purple sky faded into indigo night. I tossed and turned in my bedspace, restless for the morning to come and for my new life to begin.