THE PROLOGUE to Twins Who Are Not ~~~~~~~
The sun shone brightly through the eastern windows
bathing the dining hall in a brilliance born of crystals and glass, of brass
and silver and gold, but Luelna did not hesitate as she crossed the threshold.
Her raven black hair was woven into many long braids which were themselves
braided to echo her station in life. Light emerald eyes latched onto Lord Harld,
of Harvest Grove Valley, and his Lady Niviya as they sat together at the long
table. That table was also populated by ten of the Lord’s children ranging in
age from five to twenty-five.
Standing at Lord Harld’s side was a royal courier,
still out of breath from his swift journey, and wearing the blue and green
colors of the city and Princedom of Orjglo.
Her eyes were distracted as Larad, the Head Butler,
threw a warm fur cloak around the courier to help ease the winter chill. Recognizing
the scroll being passed into her father’s hand, Luelna felt herself shocked
into remembrance of dreams that had shaken her awake and then faded. Now those
visions and the knowing which had accompanied them stopped her in her tracks
and she gasped in a tone which drew every eye in the room to her.
“My apologies,” she said, quickly curtseying, “but I
had a dream of a scroll coming to us from a throne of sorrow. I did not mean to
interrupt.”
Nodding, the courier turned violet colored eyes down
towards the well-polished crystal tiles, but all that passed across his lips
was a long heart felt sigh.
“If you had a dream of this then you can tell me what
it states before I open it,” her father stated. At the shrugging of her
shoulders he tilted his head and waited for her to speak.
“I can’t tell you the words that are written,” she said,
managing to obtain a jam covered piece of bread to nibble on. “What I know is
the intent of what is written and the consequences if we refuse.”
“Which is?” Lord Harld asked.
“It’s Harvest Grove’s turn to give him a bride,”
Luelna said, stopping where she was as a brittle silence settled upon them.
It was shattered when the courier nodded sadly.
“Has something happened to Lady Betaia?” Lady Niviya
asked, concern flowing across her face.
“Lady Betaia has retired herself and asked to be
relieved of wifely duties and the responsibilities of the Prince’s Consort,”
the courier stated clearly looking out across his audience. “In truth the
Healers are concerned about a nagging pain she reports, but that is as much as
I am able and allowed to state. Please, the scroll will tell you what our
Prince has decreed.”
Breaking the image of a breeching whale and ship
impressed into the blue wax, which only the Prince of Orjglo was allowed to
use, Lord Harld unrolled it swiftly revealing it to be a short missive. But
short or long, if the Prince of Orjglo Princedom wrote a command then they had
little choice beyond obeying or fleeing to another Princedom. Reading silently
through the inked message as his Lady read over his shoulder, Lord Harld
allowed it to sink in so he could act rather than react to the fear which had
risen from the depths of his soul.
“Father,” Luelna said, having covered the distance
between them without him being aware. “Father, this task is mine to do. Do not
fear to accept Prince Nedglo’s command. I do this willingly.” Glancing around
the table at her sisters, three of whom were also of marriageable age, she said,
“The dream was a fore-knowing preparing me for this event and what is to come.
My sisters are needed elsewhere, but if I don’t go then something very bad will
occur. I know it far beyond any doubt or fear that I must do this.”
Looking clearly into her eyes, Lord Harld stated,
“You’ve heard what happens when Prince Nedglo’s wives and concubines birth
daughters.”
Luelna nodded but it was her step-mother who spoke in
response.
“Luelna is well trained in the healing arts,” Lady
Niviya said, flicking the kerchief in her right hand. “She knows how to tell if
it’s male or female as soon as the egg accepts a swimmer and before it can
penetrate the egg’s wall. She…,” Lady Niviya began before realizing she had
spoken this in front of one of the Prince’s men. Blushing, she quickly
apologized but the courier halted her with a gesture.
“My Lady Niviya, I heard nothing,” the man stated
before asking the Lord of the manor, “My Lord, perhaps you could allow me and
my steed a few hours of sleep and food and in the morning you may give me your
official decision. I’ve been on the road for three days and must tell you how thankful
I am of your people. Even in the high passes they’ve kept the roads passable
the whole way. Theirs is an amazing feat this deep into winter, so my deep
gratitude to them, for their efforts.”
“I will insure they know of
your gratitude, and thank you for the praise, we do try since trade benefits
all of us,” Lord Harld said quickly. Motioning for a servant who bowed and led
the courier away, the Lord turned back to his eighteen year old daughter. He
then motioned for room to be made at the table near him and waited until she
was seated before stating, “You will tell us all about this dream and your
knowing. Explain to me why any of my daughters should go to that dreary city
and dark castle built upon whale bones.”
“Because in one year I will
give birth to a daughter who will find a way to bring healing to that sorrow
filled place, if it can be done,” she stated without hesitation. “In the dream
I saw two girls who could be twins born from one egg but I knew they came into
this world through different mothers. One of those daughters was of my blood
and body and yet….” Shaking her head, Luelna whispered, “Babes born of royal
blood but protected by a whore’s heritage. They belong to that city and to the
land beyond those encircling mountains, all of the Harbak Peninsula.
“They need each other to
balance and focus the healing energies,” Luelna stated calmly, watching her
father closely. “Without my daughter the other child would not survive, and
without that other your own granddaughter would die the first night of her life.
But you must not look for the daughter of my loins. She belongs there, in
Orjglo City.”
“What will happen if your daughter
isn’t born?” Lilalla, her eldest sister asked, her twenty-two year old brow
wrinkled in concern for the child growing in her own womb.
“Did I tell you that I can hear the sorrow filled
angry songs of the whales? Both living and beyond remember the slaughter, and their
song grows louder with each generation,” Luelna stated as she looked down at
her trembling hands, unable to say more.