Brian Rathbone - The Dawning of Power

Despair was starting to settle on Catrin when Mother Gwendolin interrupted her thoughts. "Perhaps this would be a good time for you to tell us a bit more of your story. It may answer some of our questions and raise new ones in your mind. I know it may be painful, but would you tell us of your mother and the circumstances of her death?"

Catrin did not object to telling what she knew; the pain was old and did not cut as deeply as it once had. She told them of the days preceding her mother's death, or at least what she knew of them. She did not remember much of the events herself, but she remembered very clearly the things she had overheard when she was older-things not intended for her ears. She told of her mother and aunt going to market to get the ingredients for a special meal. Catrin did not know what they had been celebrating. Whatever it was, it no longer mattered.

She told of the glorious meal, some of which she remembered for herself. She recalled how excited her mother had been to let her try a sweet bun, but Catrin had not liked the taste and spat out the only bite she took. She remembered everyone else laughing while they enjoyed their buns; it was a memory that still stung, which surprised Catrin.

When she began to describe the symptoms her aunt and mother developed, Mother Gwendolin went pale and sat with her hand over her mouth, but she let Catrin finish her description. By the time Catrin finished telling the details she had overheard from her father and Benjin over the years, Mother Gwendolin had tears in her eyes and she looked as if she would be ill. The usually serene woman appeared absolutely stricken, and she let out an awful wail. Catrin watched in confusion as she writhed in anguish.

"Oh, Catrin," she sobbed, pounding the soil with her fists. "I'm sorry. I'm so very sorry. I could have saved them; I should have. How could I have been so selfish and blind?"

In the days beyond her coming, echoes of the past shall peal like thunder. -Prophet Herodamus as translated by Brother Jamison, Cathuran monk

"This challenge will be extra difficult," Benjin said. "I told the merchants you would be coming, and I purchased the goods you are going to steal. The purpose is to test your ability to move with stealth. If any of the merchants see you take anything, then I will lose my wager with them. You don't want me to lose my wager, do you?"

"I wouldn't bet on it," Chase said, looking over the list: One red pepper, one loaf of apple bread, and three balls of netted cheese. "No problem. I'll be back soon."

"Good luck," Benjin said.

Though he didn't need stealth to approach the market, Chase kept himself hidden and watched what everyone around was doing. When he saw the vegetable vendor, he settled in for a good look. The vendor was a young man who seemed to be looking everywhere at once. He stood right behind the display of red peppers, ready to fend off a would-be thief.

For a while, Chase just watched. Then he saw an opportunity. Two beautiful girls were walking toward the shop. When the vendor's head was turned, Chase darted across the narrow street and approached from the opposite direction as the girls.

"Good day, ladies," the man said, and that was all the time Chase needed. Quickly and quietly, he reached out and grabbed a single red pepper. When the vendor looked back, Chase was already seeking the next item on his list.

While hiding in a darkened alley, he spotted a young boy playing with a ball and stick. "Ho there, young man," Chase said. "I'll give you a copper to ask the baker a bunch of questions."

"I can do that."

Chase smiled, handed the boy a copper, and slid into the shadows, one step closer to his loaf of apple bread.

Confused, Catrin moved to Mother Gwendolin's side and tried to console her. From the looks the other monks were exchanging, they were as confused as she was. Mother Gwendolin took several deep breaths and gradually regained her composure. A young monk approached with jars of water, and Mother Gwendolin drank deeply when Catrin offered one to her. Catrin could barely stand the suspense, but she respected Mother Gwendolin and gave her time to calm herself.

"I'm sorry, Catrin," Mother Gwendolin said after another deep breath. "Your mother and aunt were poisoned. They were given a deadly overdose of mother's root, and I believe you were also a target, for mother's root only affects females."

Catrin was stunned. Her father and Benjin had always believed there had been some sort of foul deed involved with her mother's and aunt's deaths, but it had never felt real to Catrin. Now that Mother Gwendolin confirmed their suspicions, Catrin felt a deep, burning anger rise from the depths of her being. She had suppressed it for so long, uncertain it was warranted, but now the justification existed. She balled her hands into fists and wished she had something to punch, wanting very much to vent the searing fury before it consumed her.

"I wasn't certain at first," Mother Gwendolin said, breaking the heavy silence, "but you described every symptom of a mother's root overdose, and the sweet buns would have made a perfect vessel. Mother's root has a sickeningly sweet taste that could be masked with honey or sugar and become almost undetectable. Had you eaten your sweet bun, you would most likely be dead. And were it not for my envy, your mother and aunt would most likely be alive." Catrin was taken aback by the admission and waited silently for an explanation.

"When I met Benjin, he was trying to make his way back to Endland after parting company with your mother and father. He was so handsome, honorable, and in so much pain. I was drawn to him, and I admit I fell in love with him," she continued, looking embarrassed. "Benjin was smitten with your mother, and his heart was broken, but I didn't see it-didn't want to see it. I convinced myself he would fall in love with me and we would be happy together. We both had a love for herb lore, and we spent days discussing various rare plants and roots, but he did not fall in love with me. He didn't even seem to see me as a woman. I was jealous and hurt, which made me most uncharitable.

"During our last days together, Benjin asked me to help him transcribe my notes on several rare herbs of which he had no previous knowledge. I remember it clearly, though I wish I didn't. I was angry and didn't want to help him. I copied the section on mother's root, and I remember omitting the information on the effects of an overdose simply because I didn't feel like doing it. I included the information that warned against overdoses and left it at that. Now I see how high the price of my envy was. I would change it all if I could. I'm so sorry."

Catrin tried to find words to absolve Mother Gwendolin of guilt, but she found none. Instead, she gave her a hug, and they cried together for a while. Mother Gwendolin regained her composure and seemed to realize it was pointless to torture herself.

"I will send Benjin an invitation to meet with us this evening. There is nothing we can do about it now, but he deserves to know the truth," she said.

At that same moment, another young monk approached. "Many pardons, Mother, but Brother Vaughn asked me to come right away if any birds returned. These just came in from Drascha Stone," he said, bowing, and he presented several small, rolled pieces of parchment. She received them with a sad smile, her cheeks still shining with tears.

While Mother Gwendolin read, Brother Vaughn proudly explained their system of using pigeons to send messages between holds. He said several monks from each hold would travel to the other holds during the warm months, and they would carry many birds with them. The birds could then be released at any time to carry messages quickly back to their home hold. It was not a perfect system, he said, and messages were often lost. Important messages were sent with multiple birds, and any urgent messages received by one hold were forwarded to every other hold upon receipt. This, he said, helped to ensure that no Cathuran stronghold would ever be completely isolated from the others.