*****
Annatar stayed with us through that long winter and made many friends by his largesse to the magistrates and nobles. I saw much of him over that winter at various court gatherings but he did not venture a visit to our workshop.
The King and royals became more enamored of him as the days passed. He was generous, humorous, and he lent a sympathetic ear or loan to anyone in need. Mother knew I was uneasy around him although I always was polite and courteous to him.
"You do not like him, Mikal, why?" She asked me one late winter evening as we were sitting by the fire after supper. Kendriun had retired to the upper floor of the tower to gaze at the stars through one of his contraptions leaving the two of us downstairs.
I did not answer her for a while for I was not sure what to say. No, I did not particularly care for the man but he had never slighted me or anyone else as far as I knew. Maybe it was because he seemed so likeable that I just couldn't believe his sincerity. Thoughtfully, I scratched Ghost's head as mother continued to sew quietly next to me.
"I don't know, mama," I told her. "He just seems too good to be true sometimes. Giving out the gifts he does to noble and peasant alike as it strikes his fancy. It just seems odd. Not natural. I can't explain it any better than that," I shrugged.
She nodded. "I understand. I, too, have found some of his largesse difficult to grasp but who am I to judge? If he wishes to give his gifts then that is his choice. But I cannot help but wonder . . ." She left the sentence hang unfinished and looked at me with her piercing amber eyes. Her mind was still sharp and her heart perceptive.
"Yes, mama, I have tried to see into his heart," I smiled. She could still read me like a scroll. She hid a smile and waited for me to continue as she sewed.
Ghost hopped off of my lap and went to sit near mother. I stood up and threw another log on the fire, prodding it with an iron and losing my thoughts in the orange flame for several quiet minutes.
I sighed and replaced the iron but did not sit back down. "I cannot see his heart and it frightens me," I confessed.
Mother stopped sewing and looked at me curiously. "Is this unusual?"
"Yes," I admitted. "Usually I can see into men's hearts without much trouble. But with Annatar, I see nothing but emptiness. Not good or bad just nothing. It's quite odd." I paced to the table with my hands behind my back and turned to look at her.
"What do you make of that?" She wondered, continuing with her sewing.
I shook my head and paced back to my chair but I did not sit. "It bothers me. But, as I said before, no one has any complaints against him. Maybe I'm just not as perceptive as I thought I was. I will ask Kendriun what he sees."
She delicately placed her sewing aside and looked directly at me. "Mikal, I do not trust Annatar."
I was shocked. How in the world had she managed to spend so much time in his company? She was the only person who I ever heard utter anything negative about him. My own mother!
"What?" I asked as I went to her side, sitting down on my knees to look at her directly.
"I do not trust him and neither should you," she gently tugged my earlobe as if I were still a child.
"Why? Have you heard something? Seen something? What do you base this on?" I asked anxiously.
She shook her head. "The same thing you base your opinion on. I cannot see into his heart and he seems too good to be true. Understand that he is charming and intelligent and quite handsome but there is something missing. Like when you break open a loaf of bread to find that the inside hasn't risen," she said.
I shivered and got up to stand next to the fire. We watched each other in silence for mother and I did not need words to communicate. We spoke no more of the matter but our hearts were aligned.
It was soon after our conversation that the shadow fell over my heart.
Annatar stayed with us through that long winter and made many friends by his largesse to the magistrates and nobles. I saw much of him over that winter at various court gatherings but he did not venture a visit to our workshop.
The King and royals became more enamored of him as the days passed. He was generous, humorous, and he lent a sympathetic ear or loan to anyone in need. Mother knew I was uneasy around him although I always was polite and courteous to him.
"You do not like him, Mikal, why?" She asked me one late winter evening as we were sitting by the fire after supper. Kendriun had retired to the upper floor of the tower to gaze at the stars through one of his contraptions leaving the two of us downstairs.
I did not answer her for a while for I was not sure what to say. No, I did not particularly care for the man but he had never slighted me or anyone else as far as I knew. Maybe it was because he seemed so likeable that I just couldn't believe his sincerity. Thoughtfully, I scratched Ghost's head as mother continued to sew quietly next to me.
"I don't know, mama," I told her. "He just seems too good to be true sometimes. Giving out the gifts he does to noble and peasant alike as it strikes his fancy. It just seems odd. Not natural. I can't explain it any better than that," I shrugged.
She nodded. "I understand. I, too, have found some of his largesse difficult to grasp but who am I to judge? If he wishes to give his gifts then that is his choice. But I cannot help but wonder . . ." She left the sentence hang unfinished and looked at me with her piercing amber eyes. Her mind was still sharp and her heart perceptive.
"Yes, mama, I have tried to see into his heart," I smiled. She could still read me like a scroll. She hid a smile and waited for me to continue as she sewed.
Ghost hopped off of my lap and went to sit near mother. I stood up and threw another log on the fire, prodding it with an iron and losing my thoughts in the orange flame for several quiet minutes.
I sighed and replaced the iron but did not sit back down. "I cannot see his heart and it frightens me," I confessed.
Mother stopped sewing and looked at me curiously. "Is this unusual?"
"Yes," I admitted. "Usually I can see into men's hearts without much trouble. But with Annatar, I see nothing but emptiness. Not good or bad just nothing. It's quite odd." I paced to the table with my hands behind my back and turned to look at her.
"What do you make of that?" She wondered, continuing with her sewing.
I shook my head and paced back to my chair but I did not sit. "It bothers me. But, as I said before, no one has any complaints against him. Maybe I'm just not as perceptive as I thought I was. I will ask Kendriun what he sees."
She delicately placed her sewing aside and looked directly at me. "Mikal, I do not trust Annatar."
I was shocked. How in the world had she managed to spend so much time in his company? She was the only person who I ever heard utter anything negative about him. My own mother!
"What?" I asked as I went to her side, sitting down on my knees to look at her directly.
"I do not trust him and neither should you," she gently tugged my earlobe as if I were still a child.
"Why? Have you heard something? Seen something? What do you base this on?" I asked anxiously.
She shook her head. "The same thing you base your opinion on. I cannot see into his heart and he seems too good to be true. Understand that he is charming and intelligent and quite handsome but there is something missing. Like when you break open a loaf of bread to find that the inside hasn't risen," she said.
I shivered and got up to stand next to the fire. We watched each other in silence for mother and I did not need words to communicate. We spoke no more of the matter but our hearts were aligned.
It was soon after our conversation that the shadow fell over my heart.