Chapter 14
It was not until late that night that Rhapsody finally awoke from her sleep. At first she was disoriented and confused why she was in her room. Then she remembered all that had happened. Achmed had saved her from lying to all of the Cymrians and so saved her from a break down. The last time she had unintentionally lied it had nearly destroyed her and this would have been on a much larger scale.
She now owed Achmed her sanity and had tried to repay him by healing him. But ultimately, he was forced to save himself. His wounds had been beyond her help and he had to use his own blood lore.
Now she laid alone in the dark, wondering how he was doing and what time it had gotten to be. No doubt she had missed most, if not all, of today's moot, and she was the one who was supposed to have been leading it.
But then awareness came to her that she may not be as alone as she had thought she was. A slight tingle in the air that she recognized crept into her perception. This sensation had been present in her mind since she had awaked, but she was unsure when precisely she had begun to notice it.
She knew that there was no need to worry about this presence because it was Achmed who was in the room with her. She slowly reached over and felt quietly for the bedside lamp. Gently she touched the wick and summoned a spark from her soul to light it. The warm glow chased the shadows of the room away to reveal Achmed sitting in a chair near her bedside, watching her.
He was very pale and, though his shoulder wound was now closed, it appeared wickedly sharp upon his skin. Rhapsody could see that it was still in need of treating even if Achmed had managed to stop the bleeding. If not, it was a risk of infection. That maybe an after effect of the chemical, she thought to herself. There really was no way of knowing what it could do to a wound that had actually been sealed before the death of the individual.
"You're looking much better than the last time I saw you," she said as she sat up in her bed.
"And so are you," he replied.
"I'm sure that I didn't look as bad as you when you dragged yourself up to the moot," she paused, wanting and needing to say more but afraid that he would dismiss her as he would often do when she tried to thank him. "Achmed, I really am very grateful for what you did. I don't know all of what transpired between you and Tristan, but obviously you knew that you had to warn me before I did something I would regret. I appreciate that you understand what a huge deal it is for me to be forced like that to lie to my people and I don't know how to thank you for the position you put yourself in to save me."
Achmed simply sat in his chair and looked at her for a while, not sure how to respond. It was true that he knew he had to save her from that misery and that was what got him to her in time. But how was he to accept her gratitude? He sensed that he must in some way accept it this time instead of dismissing it as he usually would do. But what to say?
"I know you don't know what to say, and you don't have to say anything," Rhapsody started. "It is enough for me that you don't just dismiss me outright."
Achmed nodded sat back in his chair, and watched her for a moment. Rhapsody, feeling that she had communicated her point to him clearly, now felt she had to do something about his ugly wound. She carefully rose from her bed and crossed the room to a cabinet. Reaching in, she withdrew a small bottle of ointment as well as a few strips of linen. As she crossed back over to where Achmed sat, she opened to bottle, filling the room with a sharp pungent smell.
"Witch hazel?" Achmed inquired.
"Yes. I don't like the look of that wound; it may be infected from the chemical. It was never meant to be sealed and this could be an after effect of what happens when it is."
Achmed looked down at his arm and realized that she was right. It didn't look good and should be treated. Knowing that he really had no choice, he watched as she poured out a few drops of the ointment on a strip of linen and pressed it up against his wound.
It stung for a second before it began to ease the pain that he had hardly realized was there until a moment ago. He could hear as she hummed under her breath once again, summoning healing power to his wound. Suddenly he was reminded of the first time that he had allowed her to perform this ritual on him. It felt like an eternity ago when the three of them had been deep under the earth fighting the vermin that lived there.
He had been badly bitten by one of them and Rhapsody insisted that he allow her to treat him. Finally giving in, she did the same thing then as she was now doing and had completely healed his wound.
Grunthor moved closer to watch as she opened a phial with a pungent smell of spice and vinegar. Rhapsody soaked a clean linen handkerchief with the witch-hazel mixture and applied it directly to the wound.
Achmed winced as the spice-soaked bandage began to drench the wound with its vile-smelling liquid, a dismal burning sensation beginning under the skin. "I hope you realize I don't need both hands to kill you, if it was your intent to deprive me of one."
Rhapsody looked up at him and smiled. Her face was bruised and bloody from the fight, but her eyes sparkled in the darkness. She was beginning to take to his sense of humor, and against his will Achmed felt an inner tug. Grunthor was right; she had a powerful smile.
"There, as good as new," Rhapsody declared as she removed the linen to reveal the quickly vanishing wound.
"That trick never ceases to amaze me," he said as he watched the last faint pick retreat from his shoulder. He looked up and cut her off before she was able to say the words that hung on her lips, "Yes, I know it's not a trick. Music is a map through the vibrations that make up the world and there is nothing more powerful than a given thing's name. Trust me, you have taught this to me and I grasp the concepts of it now. But I still don't understand how it all works. So, to me, it is a very powerful trick, or skill if you will, that you have command over."
"I see your point. And Achmed, that really is kind of scary when you already know exactly what I am going to say before I say it."
"That's what happens when two people have been together as long as we have," he said smiling back to her.
She smiled in return before saying, "Now, you are still not completely well. You need to get more rest rather than be in here talking to me. I have a moot that I must get back to myself."
"No, you don't. You have been asleep through out the day. The moot has ended for today and the Cymrians are out there tearing up my lands and guzzling my wine making fools of themselves in their partying."
"Oh no, you mean I have missed the entire day?"
"Lucky you."
"But, what happened? What did Tristan have to say and what did the people decide to do with him? How did they run the election for Lord and who was elected? What else have I missed?"
"Calm down Rhapsody. As you have long said, the people were able to get alone without you; though I wouldn't think that this would be a good thing permanently, they were able to manage for a day.
'I haven't heard all of the details as yet, but from what I was able to gather, Tristan confessed to plotting against both you and Meridion in order to maneuver himself into a better position to become the next Lord. He also revealed that it was not his plan that he was acting on, but rather the plan of a third party that approached him through his assistant, Leah."
"Leah was in on this?"
"Leah was the one who engineered the whole thing."
"Gods. But who was she working for? Who was it that wanted to make Tristan Lord Cymrian?"
"That's just it. This person was smart. Tristan was never told who the girl's master was and because he was being given a plan to get what he wanted, he didn't press the issue. The only person who would know is Leah, and she managed to get herself killed in the fight."
"Damn."
"Yes, I know. But after the Meridion managed to get all the information out of Tristan that he could, the people decided that he should be striped of any and all power that he currently has and to be exiled out of any of the Cymrian allied nations. He was forced to choose between Sorbold or the Northland. He chose Sorbold and will be taken to the border after the moot has ended."
"Well, no one deserves that more that Tristan, but still I feel some pity for his wife and children, not to mention the child that she is currently carrying."
"I don't know what is to be done for her, but knowing how much you have instilled in your people that punishing the innocent is off limits, they should be well taken care of. As for the next Lord of Cymrian, that would be your son, Meridion. He won unanimously."
"Well that is great news to hear. I sincerely doubted that anyone else would be chosen, but the Cymrians have made odd decisions before."
At this, Achmed shifted uncomfortably where he sat. He looked like he wanted to say something, but he was unsure how to broach the subject.
"What is it?" she asked him. "What have my people decided now?"
Achmed uncomfortably cleared his throat a few times before he managed to begin. "It seems that your son went and did something rather rash today. Shortly after we left, Meridion brought forth an issue that I had thought was better left alone, but of course, being your son, he went ahead and brought it up anyway."
"Well, what?"
"Meridion explained to the people about… us."
Rhapsody sat silent for a moment, not sure if she could really believe what she had jus heard. "He didn't," she finally was able to utter.
Slowly, Achmed nodded his head before searching for words to continue. "He… brought up our fears of a marriage and asked the Cymrains if they could accept a union such as ours."
Fearing to ask, Rhapsody whispered, "And they said…"
"They consented."
Silence once again. Well, this was a situation that neither of them had ever dreamed would come about. The Cymrians had somehow gotten over their loathing and fear of the Firbolg seemingly over night. Now how were they to proceed?
"Well, this is unexpected," Rhapsody stammered as she tried to think of what to say for the situation. Luckily for her, Achmed had had a little more time to digest the issue than she and already knew what must be said and done.
Achmed nodded at her last comment as he solemnly stood and reached into his cloak and pulled something small that glittered in the faint light out. Dropping to one knee before her, he presented his small token to her. It was a silver ring with a ruby and a diamond setting.
"I have had this ring for a very long time now," the King began slowly and somewhat uncertainly. "I have never dared to hope that I might one day be able to present it to you, but as I am now able to, I can also ask you the question that I never thought I would be able to ask." He paused, taking a breath to steady his nerves as she sat, staring at him with love and expectance flowing from her eyes. A single tear was welling at the edge of a forest green eye that fluttered in pace with her heart beat.
"Rhapsody, will you marry me?"
"Yes," she whispered. "Yes. Oh, Yes!" She cried with more confidence as he slipped the ring onto her finger and lifted her from the bed. He held her in his arms and allowed himself to actually believe what had just happened, fearing that he would awaken at any moment to discover that all that had just happened was just a dream. A dream sent to torment and tease him with his greatest desire.
But now he felt it to be completely true. He was going to marry her and they were to be bound together as that ruby and diamond had been fused together, placed atop of a circle that never ended. Ether and blood, diamond and ruby.