Page 33 of Remembrance


  “Callie,” he said, stepping in front of her, a smile of anticipation on his face. When she saw what he had for her, she was going to melt with gratitude.

  “What do you want?” she asked coldly.

  “I have something for you.” From inside his shirt he withdrew the little monkey, holding it in his hands as it blinked against the light.

  “Oooooh,” Callie said, and reached for the animal, her face softening, just as he’d hoped it would.

  “Talis! We have been looking everywhere for you.” “Where have you been?” “You must escort us through the fair.” “We want to see everything and only you can show us.”

  At the sound of the women behind him, Talis acted instinctively, shoving the monkey back inside his shirt, hiding the animal from the women.

  “And I have been looking for you,” he said, turning, trying to smile at the five women, all gorgeously dressed, all looking up at him with expectant eyes. Why did they have to come now? he thought. Three minutes later and Callie would have been his. “I will take you in—” he began then turned back to Callie, only to discover that she wasn’t there. Already, she had taken Frobisher’s arm and was walking away.

  For a moment, Talis’s head spun, not understanding what was going on. What did Callie want from him? What was wrong with her?

  It was then that he began to understand some words he’d heard in the last few days: coward and fight. Will had said that Callie didn’t think Talis loved her and Talis had laughed at him. “Have you ever told her you love her?” Will had asked. “Women always want words.”

  “Of course I have,” Talis had said, but he hadn’t been able to meet Will’s eyes. Well, so what if he hadn’t actually said the words? Callie knew how he felt. He let her know every day how he felt, didn’t he? He allowed her to…

  What was it Will had said? “Women want more than to feed you and tell you how handsome you are. In all of Callie’s stories, a man slays a dragon to win his lady fair. The man works to win the woman he loves.”

  At that moment, Talis looked at the phalanx of women coming toward him, and their glittering silk dresses seemed to be the scales of some magnificent dragon; their jewels were its eyes; the excited faces of the women were the fire coming from the dragon’s mouth. And Allen Frobisher was the keeper of the dragon.

  “Callie!” Talis called, running toward her—and the women picked up their skirts and ran after him. They had indeed been searching for him all day and now that they’d found him, they weren’t going to allow him out of their sight.

  “Callie, Callie!” Talis shouted again until she halted, an expression of disgust on her face.

  Talis stopped in front of her and he was very aware of the women behind him, the insolent Frobisher in front of him, and in his peripheral vision, he could see Philip and James approaching. He did not, not, want to make a fool of himself in front of all these people. He didn’t want them laughing at him. He wanted to be a knight of great honor, someone looked up to by everyone, someone—

  “What could you want with me?” Callie said, her voice dripping venom. “You have so many others waiting for you.”

  “Callie, I…” He swallowed. Then he took a deep breath. “I love you.”

  Heaven help him, but he was so nervous that the last words came out so loud he halted about fifty bystanders. And of course the women, Frobisher, Philip, and James, were riveted to the spot.

  “Talis!” Callie said, her eyes wide. “People are staring.” She was trying to let him know that this was something private, not something others should hear. They had always been careful to keep their feelings from others—at least they thought they did.

  To his astonishment, Talis could feel sweat on his brow. He usually loved a crowd watching him; he was a natural exhibitionist and loved an audience. But pouring his most intimate feelings out for everyone to hear was not something he relished doing.

  “I love you,” he said again and this time it was easier.

  Callie blushed. “I am glad,” she said softly. “We will talk of this later. Now you had better leave. There are people waiting for you.” She nodded toward the women behind him, then started to leave with Allen.

  “No!” Talis said, making Callie look back at him. “I don’t want you to go with him. I want you with me.”

  One of the women stepped forward and put her hand on Talis’s arm. She was Lady Frances, a cousin to the Hadley family and quite beautiful. Lady Alida had secretly promised her marriage to this delicious young man, so she could not allow him to continue talking like this. “You must come with me, Talis,” she said firmly.

  “Yes, you must go with her,” Callie said, starting to turn away.

  For just an instant, Talis hesitated and Callie saw that hesitation. And in that flash Talis knew what it would mean to lose Callie. What did he care if these people heard what he felt in his heart? Heard that he loved her? What was anyone or anything without Callie?

  “Callie,” Talis said. “My love, my only love, the love of my life. I love you. Do you not care at least a little for me?”

  Callie was sure that even the soles of her feet were blushing. She’d wanted Talis to tell her that he loved her, wanted him to let those spiteful women know that he cared for her, but she did not want to be embarrassed in front of the whole village. “Please, Talis,” she said, turning back toward him.

  But he wasn’t there. It was a second before she realized that he was walking on his knees toward her, his hands clasped to his heart. When she looked at him, he put his hands out beseechingly to her. She was so stunned she couldn’t speak.

  “Callie, my own true love, tell me you love me too or I shall die here and now.”

  “Really, Talis!” said Lady Frances, who, unknown to Talis, thought she was his bride-to-be. “You are making a fool of yourself.”

  “If to be in love is to be a fool then I am the most foolish of men. I will die a fool. Callie, please, you must tell me you love me.”

  Callie wanted the earth to swallow her up. To say they had gained an audience was an understatement. People were deserting the paid performers to watch this gorgeous young man make an ass of himself.

  “Yes, yes, I love you,” Callie said quickly and quietly. “Now get up from there and behave yourself.”

  Actually, now that Talis had started this masquerade, he was finding that he rather liked it. Every man near them—and there were more by the second—had a look that said, I’ve been where you are. And the women were looking at him as though he really were the slayer of the dragon.

  Talis grabbed the muddy hem of Callie’s skirt and raised it to his lips. “My beautiful Callasandra, I am not worthy to kiss this sacred garment.”

  “Then don’t!” Callie said, snatching her skirt out of his hands.

  “Talis!” Lady Frances snapped. “This is not proper behavior for a young knight.”

  “How can I act any other way if my heart is bursting with love? I can feel nothing but this pain in my heart because my lady love has not said she will forgive me. I fear, dear, ah, onlookers, that I have neglected her sorely. I have, oh please, will you forgive me, I have been enticed away from her by the radiant beauty of other women.”

  “Can’t blame him there,” a man muttered, then yelped as his wife twisted his ear.

  “Talis, please,” Callie hissed at him. “Get up from there.”

  “Not until you say that you forgive me.”

  “Yes, of course I’ll forgive you,” she said hastily. “Just get up!”

  “I must have your love and your forgiveness. I must—” At that he slammed his clasped hands into his chest and the poor monkey, who had been gratefully sleeping, let out a squeal and tried to claw his way out of Talis’s shirt. Too bad he tried to dig through the skin side instead of the fabric side.

  With a yelp of pain, Talis drew the angry little fellow out and offered him to Callie. He made this offer with great show, bowing his head, holding the monkey in his hands, Talis still on his kne
es.

  At the sight of the little animal, Callie gave a bit of a smile.

  “Go on,” a man urged. “Take it.”

  It was Lady Frances’s voice that scared the animal. “Talis, I have had enough of this! I am not feeling well and you must take me home! And get rid of that nasty thing.” She only meant to push the monkey out of Talis’s hands, but the poor animal had had enough mistreatment for one day. With a quick lash, he turned toward Lady Frances and bit her finger, drawing blood instantly. And when she screamed as though she’d been pierced with a lance, the frightened animal leaped from Talis’s hands, jumped onto Allen’s shoulder, grabbed a handful of his hair, then, when Allen swatted at him, the monkey vaulted onto a rain barrel, where he sat blinking at the crowd.

  “Oh, Tally,” Callie said, tears in her voice. “You can’t let him get away.”

  It was at that childhood name that Talis knew he had won Callie back. And knowing that she was once again his gave him new strength. Drawing his sword in a dramatic gesture, he raised it to his face, his nose touching the blade. “I will give my life to this quest, my lady fair. I will die if I do not bring this creature back to you. I will climb the highest mountain, walk across fire, swim oceans. I will—”

  “Talk it to death, most likely,” Callie said, making the crowd laugh. “Go on, lazybones, get the monkey!”

  Feeling the happiest he had since arriving at Hadley Hall, Talis rose from his knees, tossed his sword to James, then started toward the rain barrel where the monkey still sat, looking as though it didn’t know what to do. As Talis passed Callie, he lifted her hand as though to kiss it. “If I may, my lady? One touch of your sweet skin, one caress of your hand, one—”

  He stopped because Callie, frustrated with his everlasting talk, grabbed his head in her hands and gave him a resounding kiss on the mouth. “Stop talking and go!” she said, pushing him away from her.

  To the accompaniment of raucous laughter—by now there was no one at the fair who was not watching this unrehearsed drama—Talis started toward the stack of barrels. There were people on rooftops, climbing on anything, including shoulders, to better see.

  “Sssssh!” Talis said loudly to his audience as he approached the frightened monkey, moving with exaggerated tiptoeing that the crowd found hilarious. “Please, dear little creature,” Talis was saying loud enough to wake the dead (or, in his case, to reach the furthermost onlooker), “you must not run away. I need you to prove to my lady love that she is everything to me. I must show her how much I love her. I must—”

  Lady Frances, sick of this idiocy, pushed her way through the watching throng. “Really, Talis, this is no way to behave. Lady Alida will be very angry with you.”

  “Ssssh,” Talis said to her, his finger to his lips. “I must rescue this sweet creature.”

  “It is a nasty little thing and I—” Lady Frances broke off when she realized that everyone was watching them and that she was being seen as the villain. “Scat!” she said to the monkey, and the frightened little animal leaped from the rain barrel to the roof. And at that, she picked up her skirts and made her way out of the crowd.

  For just a moment, Talis hesitated. The roof the monkey had climbed onto looked as though it might collapse at any moment. It covered a derelict stables, open-fronted, and inside was an ancient donkey chewing powdery hay. No one had bothered to repair the roof in years; there were holes in it, and other places that looked as though they might fall through at any moment.

  But Talis thought again of the last months without Callie by his side, and he hesitated no longer.

  “No!” Callie shouted, her hand firmly about his ankle as he climbed onto the third barrel. “Talis, this has gone far enough. That roof is not safe. You could be hurt.”

  Looking down at her, his eyes were not teasing; they weren’t the eyes of a man who was putting on a show for an audience. “I would rather die than try to live without you,” he said, and the words came from somewhere deep inside his heart.

  He had not meant for anyone except Callie to hear him, but in truth about half a dozen people heard, and his words were recounted to those who hadn’t. It was rumored that three women fainted from the sheer romance of what he’d said, but then it could have been the closeness of the crowd.

  However, Talis lightly vaulted onto the ridgepole and began to balance himself along the steep pitch. He knew that if there was any strength in the roof it was along the main pole. If he so much as stepped onto the roof itself it would no doubt give way under his weight and he’d plummet.

  Feeling like the rope walker he’d wanted to go see with Callie, Talis began to walk the pole, his arms extended, toward the little monkey sitting at the far end.

  Callie thought she was going to die, her hands clasped to her chin, her breathing fast and shallow as she looked up at Talis walking along that ridge.

  “Slowly, slowly,” someone beside her whispered, and she saw that it was the rope walker, the man she’d seen performing. “He’s got good balance. If he keeps his concentration, he will make it.”

  Talis did make it. He managed to walk all the way to the end of the ridgepole, then he cautiously squatted down and reached for the frightened monkey. Since the monkey knew that people meant food, it did not run away. However, the creature was just out of Talis’s reach, just barely at the end of his fingertips.

  Below him, everyone in the crowd held their breath.

  Callie, her heart beating in her throat, stepped closer to the roofline of the building.

  “Planning to catch him if he falls?” a man asked, making the crowd laugh.

  Yes, Callie thought. Yes, I’ll catch him in my arms. The next moment, she gave a shout, “No!” as Talis lifted his foot from the ridgepole and started to step forward onto the rotten roof.

  But Talis had a look of determination on his face, and when he had that look, Callie knew there was no stopping him. Cautiously, he took one step onto the roof, then another. At the third step, he reached the little monkey and it not unwillingly scampered into his arms.

  In triumph, Talis held the animal up to show Callie, and she couldn’t help clapping her hands in happiness. And the crowd gave one great shout of victory.

  It was probably the vibrations of the shout that shattered what was left of the roof, sending it crashing to the ground—and Talis with it. One second he was on firm footing and the next he was sent sprawling into the dirty hay below him.

  What made the crowd howl with laughter was that Callie ran after him, as though she did indeed mean to catch him before he hit the ground. What happened was that Talis, Callie, and the monkey all landed in a heap together, next to the enraged donkey.

  For a minute or two the old stables were alive with the screeches and screams of the monkey and the donkey. Callie’s hair wrapped itself around Talis and somehow caught the monkey as though it were once again in its cage.

  “Hold still!” Talis was shouting, trying to free them.

  But Callie couldn’t hold still because the little monkey was trying to tear her hair out by the roots, and the donkey was fighting them all for his share of the food.

  All in all, it was the best play the townspeople had ever seen: romance, excitement, breathtaking spills.

  When Talis and Callie were at last able to untangle themselves—and no one offered to help—Talis, with great ceremony, presented the pretty little monkey to Callie. “With all my love,” he said loudly.

  When she accepted the monkey, Talis made gestures that said that now his life could truly begin, then he led her out of the dirty stables and they headed toward the hill where her Poison Garden lay. Behind them the crowd laughed and agreed that this had been the best fair they’d ever attended.

  36

  Seventeen Years After Birth

  1588

  I hate men!” Callie said with vehemence, brushing the monkey’s tail out of her mouth as she spoke.

  She and Dorothy Hadley were in what had once been the Poison Garden. It was st
ill called that, but the character of the garden had changed under the care of Callie and Dorothy. It had been a whole year since Callie had first come to Hadley Hall, and after the first chaos of everyone finding his or her place, things had settled down. Callie spent her days taking care of her garden, with Father Keris happily dozing in the shade, a hoe near him in case someone should happen up the hill (after all, he was in charge, wasn’t he?).

  Two weeks after Callie had been sent to the garden, Dorothy found that she missed her very much, so gradually, Dorothy began to ease herself out from under Edith’s rule and spend her days with Callie. In the last year, for some unknown reason, Edith had become more angry and more of a tyrant than ever, and, besides, Callie was a great deal more fun than any of her sisters.

  Dorothy never told anyone this because they might laugh at her, but while she and Callie worked in the garden, putting order into what had been little more than a patch of weeds, Callie often told stories. Wonderful stories, stories of great romance without all the fighting that the jongleurs put in their stories. In Callie’s stories the women were strong and courageous and brave and very often saved the hero’s life.

  Dorothy gave a great sigh as she weeded a clump of monkshood. “I would like to spend enough time with a man so I could come to hate him. As it is, saying that I hate men is like saying I hate cinnamon. It is too rare to make a judgment.” As Dorothy said this, she glanced up at Callie, hoping for a compliment on her joke.

  As always, curled around Callie’s neck or her wrist or even sitting on her head, was the little monkey Talis had given her. Callie had named him Kipp, and the animal was so grateful for the kindness and love, not to mention good food, it received from its mistress that it never left her. When it was frightened it would sometimes scurry under Callie’s skirt and cling to her ankle or knee. But, always, it was with her.

  But Callie didn’t laugh at Dorothy’s witticism as she usually did. “If you knew them you would hate them,” she said seriously.