Chapter 20

A quick note from Rachel: 

I know that it has been a long time since I last posted (or worked on Daelia at all, to be honest), so I don't expect that most of you will remember what came before this chapter.  I can't make any promises about when you can expect to see the next chapter, but my heart is still in finishing this story.  So, while I am staying pretty busy teaching full-time and taking online classes, I will try to spend a little time here and there working toward that goal.  It's hard to believe that the first chapter of this story was posted more than 6 years ago; thank you all for sticking with me!

_______________________________

The next morning, Daelia walked into the washroom, her arms laden with soiled bedding from the recently departed guests. The day was chilly, but the air in the room was hot; tables overflowed with laundry yet to be washed, while several large basins were filled with the work-in-progress. In the midst of the steamy jumble, she dropped the bedding atop one of the piles. Briden stood bent over a large tub, furiously scrubbing a tablecloth. Sweat ran down her forehead from exertion and the heat of the fire. 

“Cook has nothing more for me to help with at the moment, so she sent me to help you,” Daelia told her, sidestepping mounds to get closer to the washtub. There was no reply, but as she neared, the tears on Briden's face became apparent. "Briden, what's wrong? Why are you crying?"

As Daelia's hand touched her arm, the girl burst into sobs, letting the wet linen fall unheeded into the tub. Seeing that Briden was beside herself, Daelia guided her to the bench under the window so she could sit down. After a few moments the tears subsided enough for her to talk, though the trembling words were interrupted frequently so she could catch her breath. "They took them...just this morning...my parents...and Bren as well!

"Who took them and where?

"The soldiers! Our neighbors came just...a little while ago...to tell me. We were behind on our taxes...but I didn't know."

"And they took Bren too? But how did they find him when he was here?"

Briden shook her head and wiped her cheeks on her apron, "He was home, just for the night. I sent him yesterday to take some food and a little money to our parents. Father hasn't been able to work much since he injured his back last year, so I've been sending as much of my earnings as I can, but I guess it just wasn't enough."

Daelia stood beside her, unsure of what to say. Kneeling on the floor, she took her friend's hand, "I'm sorry, Briden, truly. I wish there was something I could do to help you, and them."

"You could take the bow you keep hidden under your bed, put it to good use, and rid us of that horrible governor," Briden replied bitterly.

"I can't say the thought hasn't crossed my mind, especially after walking through the streets of the Southern District. But...I don't think that eliminating one man would repair the damage being done to the city, or help all of the people he has enslaved."

"So get rid of the son too."

Daelia laughed mirthlessly, "He probably deserves it, but no--there's something else going on beneath the surface. I feel that this isn't simply a matter of bad government."

Briden had calmed considerably as they talked, and now she peered curiously at her friend, "How do you know this?"

"Like I said, I just feel it." She was unsure of how much she ought to reveal. "I have also heard of an advisor--he is said to be evil," she prompted, hoping Briden may know something about it.

Briden shrugged, "My father, and others in the group, believe that it is the governor acting on behalf of the High One that has brought about the troubles. Severus is either a puppet or an instigator, but whichever it may be, he is a vile and corrupt tyrant."

"Who is the High One?"

"The advisor you mentioned."

"Yes, but who is he? What is he?

"Father says he is a demon from below – but his official position is that of court priest."

"What kind of priest could he possibly be if he is in agreement with the governor?" Probably not the sort who led services in the bordering villages at home.

"The only kind that has been welcome in Parsaena for a very long time: a druid."

At those words, Daelia's blood turned icy. Her demenor must have changed too because Briden glanced at her curiously, "Are you well? Your face looks like you've seen a ghost!"

Daelia only half-heard the inquiry. She was seeing a ghost – a ghost from her past, another druid, and the Romany's guardian. The Devil himself had followed her to Parsaena.
After a few minutes of silence, something else struck Daelia, “You mentioned your father and others in the group – what is 'the group'?”

For a moment Briden looked panicked. “I don't – that is, I shouldn't have...” shaking her head, “It's just a few of my parent's friends, people they know.”

It was obvious that Briden was omitting something. “I'm not trying to pry into your family’s affairs, but there’s something important that you're not telling me. What does this group do? ”

The young woman twisted her apron nervously and stared at her lap for another moment, but then she turned to look at Daelia, her frightened eyes pleading, “You must swear to never tell another living soul. The truth could bring very serious trouble upon me, my parents, Bren, and many other people. I'm not speaking of prison – it would be far worse than that.”

Daelia wanted to know, but hesitated. The secrets were piling up and each one held its own dangers. With Rouen's continued captivity already a heavy weight upon her shoulders, the knowledge of a secret which could destroy Briden's family was not a responsibility she wanted.

But what about her own safety? What about finding a way back to Braedoch and her brothers and sisters? She needed to know more about this druid who ruled through the governor. Information. Information was vital and hard to come by in the constricted world of Castle Caerlock. It was the thought of getting information that might aid her in returning home which prompted her, “I promise not to say anything without your permission.”

Briden rose from the bench and returned to the washtub, taking back up the soiled cloth to scrub, “I'll only tell you because you are an outsider, unconnected to the various lines of loyalty which run through our society, whether political or religious. But, I also think you understand the dire conditions of the city.”

“What do mean by 'political or religious'? I've hear no mention of any religion being practiced here – at least not now,” she was recalled her conversations with Rouen on the subject.

“There are,” Briden spoke slowly and carefully, but continued working, “those in the city who hold to the old beliefs...the traditional religion of Parsaena.”

“How many?”

“Not a great number, neither an insignificant one...though it seems the number continues to shrink with every year. They are forced to practice in secret since the governors have, for several generations now, allowed no recognition of any authority higher than their own. Those who do so openly are quickly silenced.”

“Silenced?”

“In the beginning there were a fair number of executions, usually on charges of theft of murder—the governor wanted to avoid creating martyrs. But now, out of fear, the group has gone so deep into hiding that there are very few arrests anymore. Everyone just waits and prays, thinking that one day there might be a miraculous change in government,” her tone was briefly sarcastic, “But judging by what I hear of this governor's son, they are likely to be waiting a while longer.”

Excitement rose in Daelia as she continued to recall Rouen's stories about Parsaesa's history. “Briden,” she took a breath and then continued, “if I were to mention the Deus or the Béata, would those words mean anything to you?”

Briden's eyes widened and she stared at her friend for a moment, the washing in her hands forgotten. “How do you know about the Béata? How do you even know that name? You're not from here – you cannot possibly know about our—the beliefs of the founders.”

“You're one of them and so is your father.” It wasn't a question – the truth was obvious.

Briden glanced nervously towards the door and answered quietly, but with defiance, “Yes, but you swore never to tell anyone about this conversation. I'm tired of living in the shadows, but to reveal myself or anyone else would be disastrous.”

“I said I wouldn't reveal your secret and I won't.”

“But you never answered my question. How do you know about our people?”

It was too late to back out of an explanation, but she wasn't sure how much she could safely reveal about Rouen. Briden had entrusted her with dangerous information, though; perhaps she deserved to know the truth. An ally – especially one of the Béata – could prove an asset.

The other girl listened in rapt amazement as Daelia revealed to Briden that she too was a follower of Deus. She also explained her childhood in Braedoch, the death of her parents, and her journey to Parsaena. She did not, however, speak of Duard, her reasons for leaving Braedoch, or the fact that her family was now scattered to the four corners of the land; that was another story for another time. The parts most difficult for her to explain involved the vision that had led her to choose servitude and the young man imprisoned in the old chapel. “He is the one who explained to me the history of the Béata and the city. He no longer believes in Deus himself, but he would fight for a return to the old ways if he could.” She had not yet mentioned Rouen's true identity. Briden was understandably shocked to learn of Rouen, though not for the reasons Daelia first thought.

“Daelia, do you know what this means? I’ve heard the stories but…is it really him?”

Suddenly confused, Daelia replied, “Who? Rouen? I know who he is, but who do you think he is?”

The door to the laundry room opened at that moment, and one of the servants came through carrying more soiled linens to add to the pile. Daelia busied herself folding a basket of clean hose and tunics while Briden went back to scrubbing and rinsing.

“Ayrasen Vitalis,” Briden said in a low voice as soon as the servant left the room. “Everyone in the kingdom knows who he is. He was the eldest son, but he disappeared years ago. Right after the ‘incident’.”

“Incident?”