Leslie Moore - Griffin's Shadow

At sunrise, Sateyuka groaned and stirred. The sound woke Sonoe, who climbed out from beneath the covers and carefully tucked them back around the still-sleeping Jelena. Throwing a robe over her thin nightgown, Sonoe padded over to where the maid Eikko snored loudly on her pallet by the door.

Leaning over the slack-jawed hikui, the mage reached down and shook the girl’s shoulder. “Wake up, you silly cow!” she whispered. Eikko snorted and sat up, blinking. “It’s morning. Send down to the kitchen for tea,” she ordered.

“Umm, the princess usually has her tea at the eighth hour,” Eikko mumbled. She scrubbed at her round face with plump fingers.

“I don’t care, stupid girl! Get me some tea now! ” Sonoe demanded. She could feel the girl’s sullen anger, but the hikui dared not talk back or disobey. Instead, she climbed gracelessly to her feet and slipped out of the room.

“Where am I?” Sateyuka sat up and looked around her in confusion.

Magical mind control sometimes caused short-term memory loss.

“You’re in Sendai Castle, of course,” Sonoe replied with a touch of condescension in her voice. “In the bedchamber of the princess. You came for the birth, remember?”

The hikui weaver frowned, then a look of relief softened her features. She nodded. “Yes, of course. I remember now. How is Jelena? Did she sleep well last night?”

“She did. Childbirth takes a lot out of a woman, or so I’m told,” Sonoe replied. Sateyuka nodded in agreement. She stood and went over to where Jelena’s newborn lay in her cradle. From the soft noises emanating from the cradle, Sonoe could tell the baby was awake. Sateyuka bent over the cradle and a look of such tenderness suffused her features that, for a moment, it looked as though she would burst into tears.

“She is so beautiful!” the weaver exclaimed.

“Yes, she is, and despite her impure blood, she’ll be able to pass for okui. Very fortunate.”

Sonoe felt and saw the flash of anger, quickly veiled, that the weaver let slip by her mask of politeness. She smiled inwardly.

No doubt this hikui believes she and the rest of her kind should have equal status with okui under Alasiri law. Amusing, really. But if Jelena succeeds in influencing the king, he might seriously consider altering the law.

That is not so amusing.

“Sateyuka, I’m so glad you’re here.”

Jelena had awakened, and now sat up in bed, her eyes riveted on the cradle that held her daughter. Love for the baby flowed from her, sweet and pure, like spring water. Sonoe felt a brief pang of longing, but ruthlessly suppressed it.

Sateyuka smiled. “Your daughter is hungry,” she said, scooping up the infant and placing her into Jelena’s outstretched arms. Jelena kissed the silky cap of dark hair atop the baby’s head and snuggled back against the pillows. Pulling the neck of her shift open, she held Hatora’s head to her breast.

“Hatora must know who I am already,” Jelena said, her faced flushed with happiness. “Is that possible? She does have Talent, doesn’t she? Sonoe, you and my aunt Taya and Mother Amara have all said so, and I did talk to her every day while she was inside me.”

“Hatora’s Talent is very strong. Of course she knows you,” Sonoe replied.

A knock sounded at the door and it swung inward, admitting Eikko. She carried a tray laden with a teapot, cups, a small carafe of wine and a single glass.

“Umm, tea,” Jelena sighed. “Is there food yet, Eikko?”

“It will be here soon, Highness.” Eikko brushed by Sonoe and placed the tea tray down on a small side table. She wiped her hands on her skirt and, flicking a glance at Sonoe, turned to address Jelena. “Lady Amara sends a message to remind Lady Sonoe to give you your medicine. She’ll be here shortly.”

“She did not have to remind me!” Sonoe muttered, trying to keep the irritation out of her voice. She picked up the vial of medicine from the bedside table, removed the stopper and carefully counted out ten drops into the wine glass.

She then poured in a splash of wine and filled the rest with water. She handed the glass to Jelena, who took a sip and made a face.

“It’s bitter!” she exclaimed in disgust.

“Yes, well, if it tasted good, it wouldn’t work!” Sonoe said, laughing. “At least, that’s what my mother always said to me.”

“I never knew my mother,” Jelena sighed. The ghost of an old sadness crept across her humanish features and lingered in her hazel eyes. “I loved Claudia, the woman who raised me, like a mother, but I always felt that a part of me was missing because I never got a chance to know the woman who bore me.” She looked down at the suckling baby. “I never want my daughter to feel that pain, that emptiness, but I fear she will because she’ll never know her father.”

“But you’re wrong, Jelena,” Sateyuka said. “Hatora will know her father. You’ll make sure of it, as will her grandfather Sakehera.”

“The weaver is right, Jelena,” Sonoe agreed. “You know Lord Sen is already head over heels in love with this baby!”

Jelena smiled. “Yes, he is, isn’t he? It’s because he misses his son so much. Ashi and he shared a very special bond. It caused a lot of trouble between Ashi and his brother. I just hope…” Jelena’s words trailed off into silence.

“You hope what?” Sonoe prompted.

Jelena hesitated a moment, then continued. “I just hope Sadaiyo doesn’t view my child as a threat to his son. If my father-in-law shows any favoritism toward Hatora because she’s Ashinji’s daughter, Sadaiyo might make things very difficult for her.”

“How can he, Jelena? Hatora is of royal birth,” Sateyuka interjected. “She is totally protected-she’s the king’s granddaughter. You have no reason to fear your husband’s brother, or anyone else for that matter.” Sonoe noticed Sateyuka looking at her with a guarded expression. Bitter waves of resentment lapped at Sonoe’s mental shields, all directed at her.

Sonoe cared not a whit. “Again, the weaver…Sateyuka, is it?…is correct,” she said. “You should listen to your friend, Jelena. She is obviously a very wise woman.”

That should sweeten the cranky old cow’s mood a bit.

The weaver pulled up a chair and placed it beside the bed, positioned so she sat facing both mother and child. She threw a glance over her shoulder at Sonoe, sharp as a dagger.

So much for flattery , Sonoe thought.

The servant girl Eikko now passed around the tea. As she handed Sonoe her cup, the mage performed a quick surface scan of the girl’s mind and mentally nodded in satisfaction. She could find no trace of last night’s occurrences in the hikui’s memories.

“I think Hatora’s had enough,” Jelena announced. She covered herself back up and handed off the infant to Sateyuka, who lifted the child to her shoulder and began patting the tiny back. Jelena unsuccessfully tried to stifle a huge yawn. “I’m still so tired,” she mumbled. “I think I’ll rest my eyes for awhile. Wake me when breakfast comes.” Almost before the last word had passed her lips, she had fallen asleep.

The weaver rose from her chair to replace the baby in her cradle, then sat back down, ramrod straight, face impassive, all but openly daring Sonoe to try to make her leave Jelena’s side.

Sonoe sighed. “So, Sateyuka. Do you have a family?” she asked, attempting to make conversation.

“Yes,” the weaver replied, and snapped her mouth shut as if to prevent the escape of any more words than were strictly necessary. Her eyes refused to move from Jelena’s slumbering form.

“I’m not your enemy, weaver,” Sonoe said.

“Perhaps not,” Sateyuka replied. Her expression became thoughtful as she at last turned to look at Sonoe. “But if it weren’t for Jelena, you and I could never sit in the same room together. I stand against all that you believe in.”