The Heart of Everything

Chronology: Tristan is 32. Raja is 22. Ardeth is 6.

Ardeth peered into his parents' room where his mother was laying unconscious on the bed. He had been so frightened and confused when his father had told him that she had been taken captive by the Saxons. He remembered his mother telling him that she was going to a village not far away to tend to some ill horses. He had wanted to go, but she said she would not be gone long, and should stay, just in case his father arrived before she came back. And though his father had, it was only because the village in which his mother had gone to was attacked by Saxons.

His father, Lancelot and the rest of the men had gone searching for her, and he was so happy to know his mother was alive, but they hadn't allowed him to see her. Everything was chaos, until he was told that his mother was hurt, and that was all. His father looked tired and worried. Sometimes little Ardeth would hear his mother scream. Though he was young, he could recall times when his mother had woken up screaming in the night. He always asked her what was wrong, but she never fully explained. Then, he had asked his father and he had only looked at him in silence, contemplating something Ardeth knew.

And there had been times when he would find his mother, standing, or sitting, staring into nothing with the saddest expression on her face. He would try to get her attention, but it was as if he weren't even there. So, he would just crawl on her lap and lay his head against her chest. And, like magic, somehow, she would come back, and her arms would wrap around him, and she would kiss him on the head. His father had walked in the bedroom during one of those times, a look on his face that young Ardeth could not decipher.

"She came back, Baba," Ardeth would say. And he would smile up at his mother, and she would smile back.

It was a mystery that the young boy had never figured out, and no one would tell him.

Now, his mother had been screaming in the night, more so than he had ever heard her. And it scared him. He was only allowed to sit with her for minutes at a time, he couldn't disturb her. Her face was bruised, and she was so thin. She almost didn't look like his mother. But he put his small hand on hers, her fingers wrapped in bandages.

"Baba?" he whispered.

Tristan turned around and managed a tiny smile. He got up quietly and lifted his son in his arms walking back out of the room into the antechamber, sitting them in front of the fire.

"I want to see Walida," Ardeth said.

"She's resting," Tristan replied.

"When will she wake up?" he asked. "She's never slept this long, even when she gets really sick." That was one thing he had been told, his mother had poor health, especially in the winter.

"I don't know."

"Why does she scream?"

His son's big, brown eyes stared up at him, pleading for an answer, something to assuage his fears. Tristan struggled with words to explain to his son. He knew Raja wasn't ready to let Ardeth know about what had happened to her in Egypt. All she told him was that her parents had died during a siege on her home when she was six years old.

Tristan cleared his throat and answered as best he could. "The Saxons hurt her."

Ardeth's brow creased. "What, exactly, is a whore?"

His eyes narrowed into slits. "Why?"

"A village boy said it, Lucan heard it, too." He and Lucan had become fast friends since the blond boy was adopted by Dagonet.

"Who did he call a whore?" Tristan asked his son sternly.

Ardeth bit his lip, now hesitant to continue with the conversation. "Walida," he finally said. He cringed at the furious look on his father's face. He hurried on, "He said his mother was saying that Walida was a spy for the Saxons, and that she did things with the Saxons."

Tristan's arms unconsciously wrapped themselves tighter around Ardeth. "Your mother...is not a whore. Everything that boy's mother said is a lie. You understand me?"

Ardeth nodded.

"No, I want you to really understand, Ardeth," his father said. "A whore is a woman who has sex with men for money. Your mother would not do that. The Saxons hurt her, she did not ask for it. Anything anyone says against your mother is a lie. Do you understand me?"

"Yes, Baba." He gazed at his father seriously, utter conviction in his expression.

Tristan swallowed a lump in his throat. He knew his son was probably too young to fully understand the meaning of his words, but he had to know. Raja would die if Ardeth thought so low of her. "What was the boy's name?"

--

A few hours later, he had Lancelot sit with Raja, letting Ardeth stay with his uncle so long as he kept very quiet. He got the information about the boy and located his home. He slammed his fist against the door, and a woman answered.

"You're Sean's mother?"

"Yes," the woman said staunchly, but a quiver of fear was in her voice.

"Are you aware of what your son is saying about my wife?" He pushed his way into the small domicile. The longer he looked at the chubby, haggard face of the women, the angrier he became.

"I bet your pardon, sir! I did not invite you in!" But she stopped when the man stared her down with the ferocious expression of a deadly animal.

"Do you know who my wife is, woman?" His voice cold, colder than the snow that covered the lands.

"I have no idea who you are."

He sneered. "My wife is the woman you accuse of being in league with the Saxons, the woman you accuse of being a whore."

The woman's face went slack.

"You deny it, wench?" Tristan stepped closer, towering over the woman. "Well?"

The woman blubbered, trying to lie as convincingly as possible. "I've no idea what you speak of."

"The hell you don't," Tristan spat. "I will say this once. You keep your son's mouth clean of any words about my wife. And you best keep yours clean as well, woman."

"You dare to threaten me?" she retorted.

"I've never threatened anyone in my life. I have my honor, wench, but I am not above cutting a woman's throat when it comes to my wife."

The woman's face went pale.

"Anyone else you've spoken to about my wife will hear from me. So I suggest you warn them. Nod if you understand."

Slowly, she did what he said and nodded.

"Good," he said, and left the woman's house. But just as he opened the door, a boy stood on the front steps, obviously about to enter. Tristan stared down at him, and the boy cowered instinctively. He turned back to the woman who stood not three feet from him, flicking her eyes to Tristan, and then her son. He gave her the most venomous look she had ever received in her life before walking by her son.

--

The weeks passed, and Raja did get better, slowly but surely. Ardeth would bring her breakfast every morning along with his father, and he told her he was taking good care of Odin and Horus in her stead.

One day, when Ardeth felt calm settling over his family, he got brave enough to ask his mother something he had wanted to for so long. "Baba said the Saxons hurt you really bad."

Her son was lying next to her, his head on her shoulder, her arms around him. In that moment, she was so glad she had not borne a girl. What would she tell a daughter as she got older? If her daughter asked her about men in general, bedding men, topics a child would have to be informed about sooner or later. The inevitable questions would come: How old were you when you first bedded with a man? What would she say? Six? She felt enough shame in front of her son, a daughter would have been worse. At least, this way, Ardeth would go to Tristan for these things. When her son got older, he would learn about the enemies on the island, and the things they rewarded themselves with. What they did to women they came across, the way they used them. And it would dawn on him, and he would know. What would he think of her then?

"Yes, love, they did," she answered quietly. "But I'm all right now."

"But you're still sick," he said.

She smiled a bit. "But I'm mending. Don't I always?"

"Mmm-hmm. You always come back to Baba and me."

"I would do anything in my power to return to you and your father. I love the both of you more than anything."

Ardeth snuggled closer. "I won't let anyone take you away again," he said sternly. He looked up at her, a hard, determined sheen in his eyes. "I won't. Not those filthy Saxons. I'll kill them!"

Raja sucked in a sharp breath at her son's anger. "No, Ardeth," she consoled. "Don't think like that."

"Why not? Baba kills them."

"Yes, that's true. But your father is a grown man and a warrior. That is inevitable when he goes into battle."

He pursed his lips. "Then I will, too, when I am a man. No Saxon will escape me!"

Raja was becoming distressed at her son's words. Oh, she did not want him to have that hate in his heart. She did not want him to think he had to kill to protect her. She was the parent, his mother; it was her duty to protect him, not the other way around. Raja was saved by Tristan walking into the room; she knew he could see the squelched pain on her face.

"Why don't you go see Lucan, son?" Tristan picked Ardeth up off the bed and set him gently on his feet. After a hug and a kiss he was gone. Tristan sat next to her, clasping her frail hands in his. "What's wrong?"

Tears filled her eyes. "You should have heard him, Tristan. The anger on his face."

Tristan stroked her cheek. "What did he say?"

"He said he would kill the Saxons when he got older. He said he hated them."

"He's angry for what they did to you, Raja."

"He doesn't fully understand, Tristan. He cannot know, it would only fuel his hate. He's too young for that. Ardeth thinks he must protect me, but it's me who should be taking care of him. I'm his mother."

He nodded. "He loves you, he doesn't want to see you hurting again."

"I know that," she said shortly. "But it was the way he said it, Tristan! He needs to have a real childhood. We may not always be able to shield him from the ugliness in the world, but he's much too young..." Her voice broke. "What kind of mother am I that my child feels he must protect me?"

Tristan gathered her close in his arms, being careful of her fragile bones. "He knows you can take care of him, Raja. But the boy sees you hurt, and he wants to take care of you, like I do."

"You're a man. And he's six years old, he shouldn't be saying he wants to kill at his age! He should not hate so young!"

Tristan understood what she was saying, but at the same time, he knew it would come around when Ardeth would choose whether to be a warrior or no. He had been surrounded by them since birth, his father was one, the man he had been named after had been one.

"I want him to stop training, Tristan," she blurted. "No more sparring, no more hunting. None."

"Raja.." his voice trailed off.

Tears streamed down her cheeks and she shook her head in despair. She knew that demand was both fruitless and weightless.

"Ardeth is a strong boy. And he has had love surrounding him his whole life. No boy could turn out cruel with you for a mother." He kissed he tears from her face, placing light ones on her lips.

"My mother died trying to protect me. And it was in vain." Her voice became distant, and she looked in the opposite direction, away from her Trissy's concerned face. "She did not want those men to hurt me, she stowed me away in that bureau while they raped and killed her. That is what she did not want to happen to me. But it did, because I burst out from that hiding place. And her death was for nothing, and that is my fault."

"If she had not done what she did, you would have died for sure," he said.

Raja looked back at him with wide, tearful eyes. "But I did die, Tristan. The little girl I was, replaced with something darker." She tapped her heart, "That part which makes me weak, that part...which will always leave me in the darkness."

"That little girl you speak of brought me into the light. That strong girl I met fifteen years ago, who became an even stronger woman. Brave enough to keep going, and not grow bitter and cold, like I did. Only a resilient woman, like you Raja, with all the warmth and love you hold, could have brought me back. The warmth and love that fills Ardeth and gives him hope, and that fills me with your goodness to make me into a decent father and human being. No weak woman could do that."

"I only go on for you and Ardeth."

"As long as you go on, Raja," he said with a kiss. "That's all."

7/27/07