Page 45 of Thief of Roses
There would be an emptiness in his arms for the rest of his existence without having ever known what it would be like to have it filled with the right person.He would have to have been dead not to feel so elated and so bereft at once.He ached for a feeling he had never known.Alas, like Beauty, stolen glances and quiet appreciation would be all he would ever have.He shook his head in the absence of words, not sure how to tell her that the gift of her quiet attention and unimpeded view of the softening moon-glow on the strong contours of her face were all he desired.Even if he could find words to express it, it would sound false or affected in his awkward mouth.He bowed his head finally, content to be thought simple or dumb if necessary to keep those thoughts to himself.
XVIII.
The charnel houseshad long collapsed and returned to the earth.The pits of miasma had settled and filled in with debris and dirt over the centuries until even the smell left the air.For anyone who could not remember where they had been, no tell-tale traces of the impersonal burials of war and sickness remained.Even the below-ground crypts of the Great Holy had collapsed upon themselves and those who had consigned their bodies to the care of their One God remained as forgotten as Baró himself.Those ghosts found peace in their eternal rests.The animals used pits outside the village, no less impersonal but less attended.Those pits too had been covered up over the years through weather and wear.
Instead, Baró brought Rivani to the only place where intentional and personal burial had taken place in his lifetime.Any person who died and had merited some personalized attention in death had been moved to the capital city to be buried in the cathedral or its yard, or in a family crypt on family territory.There were no people buried here.In the dense forest on the hill, the sun-dappled burial ground, less covered with undergrowth than the area outside the wide ring of stones, was reserved for animals of importance — riding and war horses, hawks, hunting dogs, and the occasional pet that had graced the keep, although those were long before his time.
A few hand-carved stones poked through the leaf and evergreen needle layer.
He directed Rivani’s attention to the barest area of the stone-rimmed yard.Covered like the rest of the area with the fallen leaves from the changing of the seasons, the significant pile of overturned dirt indicated the newest burial.He followed behind, keeping a respectful distance as he let her lead the way, wanting her to greet her horse first.He did not need to see her face to know that her eyes shone with tears.
He meandered nearby, stationing himself in front of a section that bore long bowl-shaped depressions in the ground.He sat on his haunches, waiting, listening to her footsteps, smelling the saltiness of fallen tears over the earthy decay of leaves.He bowed his head in an attempt to give her privacy.
Rivani remained quiet for a long while.Her tears did not stop and Baró’s gut twisted at his uselessness.At long last, he went over to her, rising to his hind legs when he got beside her.He did not think he would be a comfort, but at least he could try to be there if she needed.He could leave if that would help her more, but he had to try something, anything, just to let her know that she wasn’t alone.He did not know if he should speak, if it would help or harm, if verbalizing the cause of her grief would give her validation or reopen the wound.He kept his head bowed and his voice as quiet as he could make it.
“I saw that they shot her.”
“I do not think they meant to hit her.”Rivani gulped.Her tears slowed, trying to keep her voice steady.“They try to take the horses if possible, but she got us away.”Rivani released a pent-up breath.“She saved us before she succumbed to her wound.She brought us to the forest.Here.”Her throat closed and she turned her face away from him.
“I am sorry,” he said, unsure of what more to say.“I have had a horse shot out from under me,” he added in an attempt to be sympathetic.“I have several riding horses buried here also.Your horse is one of the honored dead, and in the company of her kind.”He recognized Rivani’s avoidance of emotion and understood not being able to express it.“Please, grieve for her freely.And grieve for yourself.There is no judgment here.”He shifted to move away.“I will leave you to your solitude so that you may grieve without an audience.”
“No, please.Don’t go.”She turned and put her hand on his arm.
He returned to his place at her side, maintaining his silence.He had no desire to intrude on her communion with her fallen companion.He, though not sentimental at the time and more in the way of hoping to find that sentimentality over the years, had through his isolation, paid his respects, not just to his horses but to the hawks and hounds he had kept.He wished that he could visit the burial spot of his childhood dog, but that had been in the capital and his dog had not been given the courtesy of an honored place among the deceased animals.
Little wonder he doubted his ability to love now when all those for which he had ever recalled caring had been taken from him and his grief had been called weakness.He had become afraid of grief and barricaded himself against it.But even without those chastising presences in his life, even without those who ridiculed any sign of feeling, he worked to mask those things which might make him a more obvious target.When did he become so hard?
Her hand never left his arm.Her fingers tightened her grasp on him.She clung to him like she wanted him there, needed him there.When her clutch loosened, she slid her fingers down the short sleek fur of his arm.
“Baró?”
When he glanced down at her to answer her unspoken question, she wiped at the new tears welling in her eyes.He could see the fight taking place in her throat, clogged with her warring emotions.
“Would you hold me, Baró?”She swallowed again before she met his gaze.“Please?”
He opened his arms for her, hands palm-up in welcome, one hand sliding over her back as she walked into his embrace, like he was just anyone, someone normal who engaged in everyday human emotions, who could comfort and console.He wanted to keep her safe and make her happy and tell her something ridiculous to make her smile again.His arms finally set to purpose higher than any other they had known, his ache deepened now with knowledge of what that hollowness was supposed to contain.He set the tips of his claws and fingers in her hair, holding her tenderly while providing all the solidity she sought of him.He longed to press the underside of his chin to the top of her head, but he thought that might be too familiar, too intimate.Too human.He understood her need and her requirements of him.He too led a solitary life, devoid of close contacts, empty of people who cared enough to listen and help, absent from anyone who cared at all, with the companionship of an animal who provided an ear and occasional affection as the only confidante they would ever know.Baró could not provide human warmth or human comfort to her, but here in the resting place of animal companions who served and were loved for their service, he could serve her as another of her animal companions.He wrapped his arms around her and pressed her to him, wishing he could be more.
