Time and Again
Conclusion and a commentary
Part 3
The ride home should have been quicker, Tobias’ impatience told him so. Instead, the cliffs seemed to hold him back, as if the universe itself refused to let him leave. Could it be the gods were pleading for him to overturn his decision? Or was his conscience weighing him down? This was not the time to soften. Tobias understood men. That’s why his kingdom thrived. Throughout the years he kept a working relationship with the emperor and his intuition was the reason Casdamia never attacked Potamia. Men respected him as he had a reputation of playing his rook at the most opportune time.
And Moshere would demand vengeance, track them down, and kill everyone in his way.
Tobias’ stomach sickened at the thought of what had happened, and what might happen. He didn’t know why anyone would kill the emperor and run except, though Bahldi had a reputation for brutality against his own. Still, no matter the empire’s problems, Tobias refused to get involved.
When they reached the forest where the air grew cold and the shadows dark, his woeful thoughts intensified. Over the years, as a warrior, he walked away from battlefields with the weight of the souls he had slaughtered on his shoulders. Eventually he grew callous to death. If he hadn’t, he’d never be able to fight again. But this was different. This time Tobias cast women and children into a forsaken land. He could only plead to his gods to watch over them, and so as he rode up the mountain, his lips moved in prayer, and his breath whispered goodwill for them.
He’d been all day and night in the saddle, with only the short time at the eastern gate for reprieve, so when the company reached the highlands, before the long stretch to the castle, he reined his horse in. Hardly fair to his men, Tobias had been driving them as hard as he’d driven himself. Was there no end to his thoughtlessness? The party dismounted near a stand of juniper, and under the shade of a rock overhang where they built a campfire. One soldier pulled out venison jerky and passed it around for everyone to take a bite, while another emptied his canteen into a small pot and stuck it on the coals for an infusion of mint and nettle. No one talked much, and so the king started the conversation.
“We should arrive home by dawn, you think?” he asked.
“If we rest for an hour, Vasil, we should be home by dawn.”
Tobias leaned back against the rock and closed his eyes. Within moments, he fell asleep.
Someone shaking his shoulder awakened him.
“Vasil, it’s time to ride,” Blakely whispered. Tobias joined the men, feeling less rested than when he had fallen asleep. But thoughts of a comfortable bed, a warm fire, and his lovely wife filled his mind. There would be a new family member waiting for him, and the excitement of seeing his new child got him into his saddle. They cantered the rest of the way. The eastern gate to the fortress appeared just as the sun rose, and when they rode to the stables, Tobias jumped off his horse as a groom took his reins.
Without saying a word to anyone, he hurried to the castle entrance, met there by a nobleman, Lord Marlowe, a dear friend of his, standing in the doorway. Surprised and delighted to see him, he greeted him with open arms.
“Tobias!” Lord Marlowe met his embrace, but there was no smile on his face.
“What brings you to the palace, my dear man? Have you come to welcome my son into the world?” Before Lord Marlowe could answer, Tobias stepped back and shook the dust from his cloak. “Pardon my appearance. I was on a long ride to the eastern gate and….” When their eyes met, Tobias realized Lord Marlowe, speechless though he was, had tears in his eyes.
“What ails you?”
Lord Marlowe shook his head, and it was then that Tobias realized how silent his home was. There were servants moving about, but they bowed their heads, and one of them wept. He reeled to his friend, whose lips trembled.
“I did not want to be the one to tell you…” the man started.
“Then don’t,” Tobias cried. His head spun. He refused to hear what Lord Marlowe had to say. No, he’d get the news from his wife directly. Something must have happened to the baby? He raced through the hall, passing by the marble statues, the deities he had asked to keep the Casdamian children safe. Why hadn’t he prayed for his own child? His boot heels echoed through the empty hall, the clapping sound as loud and furious as the racing of his heart. Doors were closed, shutters drawn, and as he hurried up the stairs, two at a time, he heard another sound. The wailing of a woman in distress.
Oh Diantha, what have I done? Why wasn’t I with you when you needed me?
Already his throat swelled with tears. His heart pounded in panic the closer he came to his bedchamber, and when he burst into the room he froze.
The wailing was not Diantha; it was Sylvia sobbing. Diantha lay on the bed quietly. When he blinked, the moisture from his eyes, and focused on the morning sun seeping into the room, filtering through the burgundy curtains, the light cast a red hue onto the sheets.
Or was that —?
Tobias moved slowly toward Sylvia and stopped at the foot of his bed—at the foot of his dear sweet wife, who lay motionless, pale, and soaked in a bed of blood.
“No.” he whispered. “No, it can’t be.”
Sylvia looked up and wiped her eyes with her hands but still the tears streamed down her cheeks. She stood and curtsied in respect, but then collapsed onto her stool again.
“We tried to save her,” she said. “We tried everything. The midwives came, they did what they could. Last night…” She choked
His shoulders sank, and the tears leaked out of him like raindrops. He would drown in them if he could. He sat on the bed at Diantha’s feet and covered his eyes.
“The soldiers are coming with a stretcher so we can clean up.” Sylvia stuttered in between her moans, her hands trembled when she touched the sheets laid over the body. “The girls are in their room, still asleep.”
“Father?”
Tobias turned around at the sound of his son’s voice, and the muffled cry of an infant. The boy stepped into a ray of sunlight. His handsome youthful face, though glazed from dampness, showed strength, the strength Tobias needed right then. Barin held the baby next to his heart—wrapped in a fleece, its head tiny against his hands.
“It’s a girl, Father.” Barin’s voice cracked, and he swallowed. When his son handed him the child, Tobias’ hands trembled.
Crowned with silken threads of copper-colored hair, the baby was warm and soft to his touch. How could he be anything but tender to the infant? He kissed her even though his tears fell like streams of agony over his cheeks. The baby moved, stretched, and with her little hand, grabbed his beard and clung to it.
Tobias took a deep breath and stood as four soldiers entered the room. They met his eyes as they passed him, only briefly, but they all felt the pain, Tobias could see the agony manifest in the room as if it were a living presence moving in and out of their bodies, wrenching everyone’s hearts. He took one last look at his wife as Sylvia pulled the sheet over her head, and then he turned his back on them. He did not need to linger.
His own words haunted him.
“As a king I’m required to remain standing.”
He would mourn, but he would mourn in private. His duty was to be strong now. His children depended on him.
And his kingdom needed him.
Commentary
From the Sword of Cho Nisi, this is the story of Erika’s birth.
In Erika’s eyes, the very fact that her mother died in labor while having her, affected her relationship with her twin sisters, her older brother, and her father. Burdened with guilt her entire life, she suspected her family blamed her, which they never did. Still she never considered that the twins were close to each other because they bonded in the womb, but rather thought they somehow meant to exclude her because she “killed” their mother. Barin, her older brother felt bad for Erika and helped her pursue her dream of being a warrior…that is until she killed the king to the island whose magic they needed to win the war.
Erika’s mission was to prove herself worthy, to rid herself from the guilt that plagued her all her life. It wasn’t until Kairos the wizard contested her that one afternoon (Curse of Mt. Ream) did she take a step back and open her eyes.
I invite you to read book 1 of the Sword of Cho Nisi.
Or if you are interested in the special editions of the story, the 4th book will be on Kickstarter at the beginning of 2025 where you can pick up all the stories in eBook, audio, paperback, or special edition hardcovers.
