Chapter IV
Joachim was awakened by cool drops of rain, which fell playfully onto his upturned face. He came awake slowly, and groggily wiped the dampness away with his sleeve. For a moment he did not know where he was, he only knew that he had never felt so relaxed and at ease as he did in that moment. As his senses returned, so too did his memories of the morning, and he sat upright with a sharp gasp, his heart jumping painfully as he looked about frantically for his cane.
"You're awake," he heard Norgard remark. She sat cross-legged on the damp earth, her brown skirts spread neatly about her. Her expression was stone like, fixed into one of sorrow. As he watched in confusion and wonder, she reached out with one hand and cupped a willow tendril in her palm. Before his shocked eyes, Joachim witnessed as the plant wrapped itself lovingly around her fingers. "How?" he breathed, mouth agape.
Norgard slowly turned her head to look at him. "You'll be wanting answers. How did I know to bring you here, how did I know how much you wanted to see your mother's resting place before you left?" She smiled slowly, and her eyes were as green as the beckoning foliage of the deep forest. "I could hear her, Joachim. When the dead don't lie restful, I can hear their cries. She wanted to see you every bit as much as you wanted to visit her."
"But Norgard, how is it that this is even possible?" Joachim asked her. The rational part of his mind was frantically attempting to reject the sight of the willow embracing his friend's hand, but another part of him, the uncompromising child, exulted. Norgard seemed to sense this, and she favored him with a true smile, one which lit her face with an inner radiance. "Those who have left this life are bound to the earth, and long have I, and the women of my family been in harmony with this land." She laughed openly as Joachim stared at her as though she were a mystical beast which had jumped from the pages of one of his beloved stories. "Don't you worry none about it! We've a little bit extra that the good Fathers wouldn't like to be hearing about is all!" She winked and turned to whisper to the tree in a language which sounded like the rustling of leaves in a breeze. Norgard kissed one trembling leaf as the tree slowly unwound from her fingers.
Joachim shook his silvered head and sighed, accepting the strangeness of his situation. It was then that he felt a warmth in the hand which had rested against his mother's grave mound. When he lifted his hand from the grass, he saw two small blue shapes. Curious, he carefully scooped them up and examined them. "Norgard? Do you have any idea as to where these earrings came from?" Now it was she who appeared confused. "Show me." she said, moving closer to him and shaking the dewdrops and leaves from her skirts.
"They're warm," Joachim emphasized, "and I've never seen them before. They would appear to be sapphire, though, from the hue." Norgard crouched next to him and extended her hand. He placed the earrings in her palm, which she brought close to her face. Her nose scrunched slightly before her eyes widened and she whistled appreciatively. "Your mother sends you her love, my friend." Norgard told Joachim solemnly. She cupped his hand in her own before setting the tokens upon his palm and folding his fingers over them. Joachim swallowed past the uncomfortable knot in his throat as she squeezed his hand and looked directly into his eyes.
"Well now, your father is going to be making short work of the both of us if we don't make like flushed hares back to where we came from!" she declared imperiously, and Joachim grinned, for this was the Norgard he had come to know so well. She located his cane and helped him to gain his feet. No sooner had Joachim steadied himself before Norgard had moved to stand directly in front of him. She turned her back to him and brought his arms around her neck. "What are you about?" Joachim yelped, seconds before she grasped his legs and hefted him onto her back. "Never had a piggyback ride?" she teased before she set off at a run. Joachim clung to her for dear life before turning his head to cast a final look at Anna's grave. Farewell, mother.
They made it back to Joachim's chambers with no difficulties, since Norgard was familiar with all of the servants' unobtrusive stairwells and hallways. She had carried the lordling nearly the entire way, and her rosy face was more flushed than usual. The maid collapsed into a chair and fanned herself dramatically. "Ah me! This is what happens when the boys are too lazy to do the heavy work, and it's all left to the womenfolk! We shouldn't have to be so strong…" she muttered breathlessly.
"I must say that I am glad you are!" Joachim told her from his sprawled out position on the bed. He lay still for a moment as he waited for his heart to slow from its frenzied pace, and his face wore an expression of deep thought. "Norgard," he said seriously, "thank you. You have been a true friend, and I could not have managed any of this without you." She looked over at him briefly before waving one hand lazily through the air. "Glad to do it. Now," she clapped her hands and rose to her feet, "About those earrings." As she moved towards the bed, she produced a needle from her collar. Joachim regarded the bit of metal warily. "And what do you propose to do with that?" he queried defensively.
Norgard smiled brightly. "You're wanting to wear them, I've no doubt." Joachim rolled his eyes and took the still warm jewelry from his pocket. "Make it quick," he gritted from between clenched teeth, "I have no use for unnecessary pain." She nodded in sympathy and efficiently pierced each of his ears with her needle before slipping the sapphires through the tiny pinpricks. "Now, don't go taking them out, else the spot will heal shut, and we'll be having to do this all over again." she cautioned. Joachim touched each ear gingerly and shook his head from side to side. The earrings swung gently with his movements, and he smiled, for he would be carrying his mother close, no matter where he was.
He carefully slid off the bed, and impulsively enveloped Norgard in an embrace. Her tresses were soft and emitted the faint scent of apples. Joachim inhaled deeply, wanting to remember her, to keep this memory after he had departed. The futility of their predicament would not leave his mind, but when he felt her arms surround him, his anxieties eased. Neither spoke a word, and they remained together in this way for several long moments. The courtyard was peacefully silent, and the spring songbirds gave voice to their joy in sweet, lilting melodies.
Oh, God. Is it possible for life to be any more cruel than this? To show me a glimmer of true happiness, only to snatch it from my grasp immediately? To find the one person for whom I was created, only to lose her so soon? No, I… I never had a chance, did I? I am a noble, and she is a servant. I grow so weary of this! Why should the circumstances of birth matter at all? Though I have not known her long, I feel as though I have known her for years. Her smile, her eyes, her movements and voice, all so familiar and dear. I will treasure our time together. If this finite moment, this brief embrace, is all the joy that I shall ever receive, then I will cherish it for the rest of my days.
Joachim pulled back and regarded Norgard somberly. When she looked up at him, there were tears on her face, and her emerald eyes were filled with love. She said not a word, but cupped his face in her warm palm. It was not smooth, as a noblewoman's palm would have been, but her touch swamped Joachim with emotion, and he covered her hand with his own before reaching out to cradle her face just as she had cradled his. Norgard drew breath to speak. "Joachim, I…" she paused, and he kissed her. It was that rarest of kisses, the first kiss of a new love which is also a true and destined love. If either of them were to endure life for eons, neither would ever forget the feeling evoked by that one simple contact. Both realized their feelings for what they truly were, and both wept for what they feared they would lose. But for that single moment, it was enough.
When their lips parted, it was with great reluctance. Joachim refused to release his beloved, and he rested his face against her hair as he fought a hopeless battle against his emotions. It was she who finally pulled away, though she did so slowly and stood facing him, her hands clasped against her chest, unshed tears aglimmer in her eyes. He stood like a statue, with his arms still extended to catch her. There was a look of torment on his features, and he trembled violently.
It was Norgard who shattered the silence. "We will remember," she said in the same tone that she had used in the glade, "and in remembering, our souls shall never part." She closed her eyes and stood still for a moment. When she looked at Joachim once more, there was a smile on her face. "We've not known each other but two very short weeks, Joachim, but look at us…" she shook her tawny head, still smiling. "You've probably been taught that love is a rarity, or a myth, and that the likelihood of two people finding a true love, especially under such hurried circumstances, is naught but wishful hoping. But I have seen things, Joachim, as were far stranger than ourselves. Maybe it isn't so odd, wise ones have said that when two souls who were destined to meet finally crossed the other's path, they'd, well… they'd know for sure. And it don't ever happen by chance, Joachim. Nothing in this life does."
Joachim had stood by silently, his arms now clasped about his frail chest, desperate to hold in the warmth she had left behind. He would not look at her, and a fierce pounding had settled within his head. He believed her, believed in her, and in what they shared. But the knowledge of their imminent parting was slowly eating away at him. Joachim was, for the first time in his life, experiencing the pangs of a heartache brought about by love. He was not as strong as his beloved Norgard, and since he had never before felt the joy of mutual love, he was loath to relinquish it now that his desperately questing spirit had been touched by its warmth. He wanted, needed, to be strong for her, but he was unsure of where to begin.
Incensed by his lack of courage and fortitude, Joachim cast aside his misery and stood straight. If he could not feel strong, he would at least play the part, and do it well. I owe her this, and so much more! But it is my wish that we are as equals. She does not love me out of compassionate pity, and to treat her love as such would be an insult. She is right, the men here are idle shirkers who leave the difficult tasks on her shoulders. I know that she is stronger than I, but that does not mean I cannot aspire to be her equal!
Paying no heed to his complaining legs, Joachim crossed the short distance Norgard had placed between them. He brushed the tears from her face with his thumb while he caught one of her hands and respectfully kissed her knuckles, just as any gentleman would when he met a lady of highborn rank. Norgard blushed at this unspoken compliment, but she sensed the gravity of his feelings and did not tease him. Joachim placed her hand over his heart and met her gaze unflinchingly. He had to swallow several times before he was certain his voice would not fail him. He doubted that he possessed the courage to begin once more should his voice have given way!
"Norgard," he began slowly, "I have lived my whole life in this set of chambers, rarely venturing outside, and never speaking at length with anyone who was not my father or a physician. Before I met you, I had never known friendship. I was unaware of love, unaware that I could feel love, and cynical to the point of denial that anyone could ever love me." He smiled gently and pushed her tresses away from her face. Joachim placed one hand on either side of her face and pressed a chaste kiss between her eyes. "Norgard," he continued, "You have given me so much! You have taught me so many things about myself, and about life, that I would have died without ever knowing." She was weeping now, and he was fast losing control of his own tears. Having never been taught that it was unseemly for a man to weep, Joachim had never learned to mask or quell his emotions.
"I…" Joachim shrugged and grinned. "I love you, Norgard." Upon hearing this revelation, the young woman cried out and flung herself against him. The breath was forced from his lungs as she encircled him with her strong arms and crushed him closer to her. Unbalanced and taken aback, Joachim wrapped his slender arms around his beloved's shoulders and regarded the top of her head with alarm, worry creasing his brows and widening his pale lavender eyes. "What in heaven's name did I say! Whatever is wrong, love?"
Her reply was muffled, but no less fierce for being less audible. "Damn it all! Why do all men have to be so daft? How could you tell a woman you loved her and not expect her to cry?" When she looked up at him, her face was puffy, flushed, and the most adorable sight that Joachim had ever seen. His face twisted briefly as he fought the rising urge to laugh, and when Norgard blinked at him in confusion, the laughter burst from his chest and throat uncontrollably. He could not cease, not even when she glared at him. "You… stupid man! You dare laugh at me, now that I've opened my heart to you? It's a wonder I don't stomp your foot and march out, you puffed up blunder head!"
Joachim's laughter came to an abrupt end as a sharp pain lanced through his chest, stealing both his breath and his strength. No! Not now! Norgard, I am so sorry… There was a roaring in his ears, and he heard Norgard cry out in alarm as his knees buckled. He wanted to ease her fears and reassure her, to explain that this had happened to him before. He would black out for a few moments, and then everything would be fine, only, he would need to rest for a short while, that was all.
Norgard supported Joachim's weight when he collapsed. Fear lent fresh strength to her limbs, and she maneuvered him gingerly into a chair. His head lolled to one side, and his face was as stark as a corpse's. Even his lips had lost their color and his breath was so faint that Norgard's heart nearly stopped with the fear that she beheld a lifeless body. She quickly snatched up her skirts and sprinted to his washroom, swiping the mirror from the table. Her hands shook as she held the glass beneath his nose and mouth, and she held her breath until she saw his own create a fog on the mirror's surface.
Norgard gasped a quick prayer of thanks before setting the mirror aside and placing her hand over his heart. Joachim's pulse was faint but steady, a positive sign. She crouched before him and clasped one of his slender hands, chafing his cold skin as she anxiously watched his face. She froze when she heard the first faint whispers. "Warm, and so close to us! Reach out and touch, touch, touch!" The spirits of the dead gathered around the still form of Norgard's beloved, and she hissed in defiance. "You won't have him!" She rose and moved to shield him with her arms, strength, and her fierce desire for life.
Heart pounding, Norgard lifted Joachim into her arms, wincing at how little he weighed as she moved across the bedchamber and into the patch of faint midday sunlight which struggled through the newly gathered clouds and streamed through the window. She leaned against the small table where she had first broken her fast with the young nobleman. The dead moaned in angry disappointment, but they were helpless against Norgard's lively vigor. She was too warm, too full of life for them to touch, and they did not press their offense.
The sun caught the young maid's silhouette, transforming her into a vengeful angel. The moans and whines quickly turned to bloodcurdling screams as Joachim began to stir. The pained cries of a mother grieving for the suffering of her only son were audible amongst the unholy cacophony. Overcome with sorrow, and completely fatigued by the recent assault on her sensitive and untrained mind, Norgard slowly sank to the floor with Joachim in her arms. She did not realize that she had been holding her breath until he hesitantly opened his eyes. Norgard exhaled in a rush and choked down her anguish. "You, what do you mean," she rasped, "by frightening me so?"
Joachim would not look at her face, and his eyes were haunted. The beat of his labored pulse was visible upon the column of his neck, and a sheen of perspiration lay over his ashen face. When he replied, his words were slurred, and his voice was so quiet that Norgard was forced to place her ear against his mouth as he spoke. His dry lips felt like moth's wings as they moved against her flesh. "Dying, dead by autumn… sorry, so sorry… did not want to hurt you…sorry." Joachim's hand rose to stroke her face once, tenderly, before it fell to the floor and he succumbed to exhaustion.
Norgard sat still, unable to accept what she had heard, yet knowing the truth. This, then, was why the dead cried out so eagerly for him. She was lost in her reverie, eyes absently tracing the patterns in the carpet when Baron Armster abruptly threw open the door of his son's chambers. She winced at the crack of oak upon stone, but Joachim did not even open his eyes.
Norgard heard the Baron's sharp intake of breath before he stalked towards them menacingly. "You had best have a damned good explanation for this!" he growled harshly, "Just what in Hell is happening here?" Gathering what little strength and dignity she still retained, Norgard slowly rose from the floor and sank into the chair next to her. Seated there, with her voluminous skirts and long golden hair arrayed about her; the unconscious Joachim still clasped protectively in her embrace, Norgard resembled Michelangelo's masterwork La Pieta, though that image still lay sleeping within marble, not yet unfettered by the artist's hand.
"Milord," Norgard began softly, "your son was about his preparations when he collapsed in a fit. I caught him before he could hurt himself, and I was just readying to call for help when you arrived, milord." Appeased by her meek and subservient demeanor, Karl Armster only grunted in reply before abruptly relieving Norgard of her beloved. She started in a panic, and her hands grasped after his retreating form of their own will before Norgard schooled herself into a semblance of calmness once more. The Baron turned to look at her as he was passing over the threshold. "Be about your work, serf." he stated bluntly, before he departed with his son slung uncaringly over his arms.
Norgard closed her eyes and clasped a work roughened hand over her mouth as she finally relinquished the sorrow she had been withholding. She fisted her other hand in her skirts as she rocked back and forth, the tears streaming hotly over her face and dampening her knuckles. She did not cry out, but instead reduced her sobs to hiccoughing cries, which she muffled with closed lips and fingers. When she opened her eyes, she espied Joachim's cane lying forgotten on the rug. She gasped and dove for it, swiping it up before hurrying out the door and down the corridor. She collided with another member of the manor's staff, who reeled into the wall and cursed her fiercely, but Norgard ignored him and burst through the doorway of the great hall. She gathered her skirts in one hand and slid competently down the banister before flinging open the manor doors and pelting through the courtyard.
The Baron was already astride his mount, and the footman was settling the Baron's son into the coach. Norgard swept the wetness from her eyes and cheeks as she marched up to the footman. "Pardon," she declared boldly, for fear of being ignored, "but the young master forgot his cane, he did." She shouldered past the footman, who regarded her in astonishment, and leapt nimbly into the coach.
Joachim was settled beneath a heavy woolen blanket, and he smiled when he saw her face. "Nearly forgot this, you dolt!" Norgard whispered fiercely, and she pressed the cane into his hand, squeezing his wrist tightly as she did so. He looked dreadful, with his sunken eyes and pallid complexion, and the young maid felt her tears rising once more. He laboriously drew breath to speak, but it was she who continued, hoping to spare him even this small effort. "Listen you, we walk the path we was set on, I love you, I know you love me, and… I'll be waiting for you. No matter what happens, I'll wait. Promise." Norgard leaned forward and kissed him fiercely, and then she was gone, leaving Joachim with nothing but the memory of her fingers and lips on his skin, and the lingering sweetness of apples.
The footman closed the door securely before clambering atop the coach beside the teamster, who cracked his whip and set the horses to moving. As the Baron's procession passed from the courtyard and into the village, the heavens were torn asunder, and a heavy rain fell upon the countryside. A lone figure drew the hood of her cloak forward and stood like a sentinel, watching until the coach and its passenger had passed out of sight.