D. A. Houdek

Deb Houdek Rule

Web designer - Science Fiction author - Civil War historian - Genealogy researcher

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Of All the Western Stars

by Deb Houdek Rule

Chapter 12

Lisette waved farewell to her future father-in-law and his company of noisy, eager gentlemen as they rode off toward London shortly after dawn. Her smile was utterly genuine, though she knew she ought to be ashamed of the reasons for it; she was glad to see them go. Now she could be alone with Aunt Agnes and unburden her troubled soul.

Agnes slid her arm around her niece’s waist and squeezed as she, too, watched the party ride off into the morning mist. "What a charmer that Henry is," she commented and Lisette noticed the dreamy smile tracing her aunt’s lips. Had she… Had they…? No, it couldn’t be. Lisette refused to even think of it. "If your Geraint is half the man his father is, you can count yourself a fortunate girl," Agnes continued, a twinkle in her eye as she tweaked Lisette’s pink cheek gently.

Pulling her woolen cloak tighter around her, Lisette watched as the coach and horses passed from sight. A cold, dull weight settled in her stomach as she thought of Geraint and the marriage to come. Perhaps she’d been hoping to escape the inevitable by coming here not, as she’d told her father and half-convinced herself, to speak of matters with Aunt Agnes that she was too shy to discuss with any others. But, as she looked at the eastern sky, the gray imperceptibly lightening with each passing moment as dawn blossomed into full day, she thought again how relentless the onward march of time was. It couldn’t be halted or turned back. And in scarcely more than three weeks she would be Geraint’s wife.

"Oh, Aunt Agnes," she whispered in a thin voice, scarcely audible above the warbling bird in the oak, "I’m so frightened."

Agnes did hear her and squeezed her more tightly. Leaning toward her, Agnes kissed her niece on the cheek. "I know you are, dear. But you’ll get over that, we all do. Come, let’s go in. You’ll catch a cold in this damp air. I’ll have a nice, warm fire built in the library. We’ll have hot wine and talk of things men ought not hear." Agnes chuckled and Lisette had to smile.

"…But did you love him?" Lisette insisted. She curled her feet under her, wiggling her toes against the thick carpeting warm on the library floor. The heady vapors of the hot wine tickled her nose with their spicy aroma, mingling with the musty leather and ink smell of the books.

"Certainly not," Agnes answered, pausing to adjust the crackling logs with an iron poker. "I was not but fourteen, but even then not so romantic a fool as to think to marry for love. The Baron was four times my age, with children older than my own parents. He saw me as a pretty toy to pamper and indulge, and to make him feel young again in bed."

"And you?"

"I saw opportunity. Even though my father would not have pushed me into it against my will, I entreated him to permit the match. Our family was not as prosperous then as now. I’d likely end up married as your sister Mary has, to a merchant, well enough off, but with no hopes of climbing higher. But what of you, my dear? What think you of your marriage?"

Lisette sighed. She leaned against her aunt’s knees and stared for a moment into the flames. "I’m just a foolish child, dear Aunt Agnes," she said.

Agnes chuckled. "Most of us are. But few of us realize it, especially where love is concerned." How true that is, Lisette thought. As if privy to her most secret wishes, Agnes casually said, "Henry told me of that young man that was found. Ashur, was it? Thought to be waylaid by highwaymen, he was. Sounds like an intriguing fellow. You helped tend him, I hear." Lisette nodded, not trusting herself to speak out loud. Surely it was the heat of the fire that reddened her cheeks now.

Seeming to change the subject, Agnes said, "We seem to be defying nature in the way we chose our mates. There are those, I can show you their writings, who think children should be allowed to chose their own husbands and wives on no more substantial a basis than the flighty whims of love and passion. And, mind you, it’s true that parents ought to make sure that their children like each other before they are wed or they risk having no grandchildren, for it’s a scientific fact that only a woman whose husband fully satisfies her carnally will be able to conceive a child. Nevertheless," she hastened to add, "most agree that the young would not chose their mates well if left to their own devices, lacking the wisdom and maturity of years."

Agnes poked again at the fire, making the sparks leap. Lisette refilled her cup and her aunt’s from the pitcher keeping warm by the hearth. "Ah, that’s good," Agnes said, downing most of her cup. "Warms one through and through, doesn’t it. Still, not so well as a good man between the sheets, eh?"

Now Lisette did blush in earnest. "I wouldn’t know," she murmured, staring intently into the depths of her cup.

"I thought not," Agnes said. "Which makes it even more difficult for you to fathom some of what I’m telling you. You’re still caught in the idea that the man you marry is the same man whom you must love, and the only man whom you may bed."

A shock like lightning shuddered through Lisette’s body. Of all people in this world, the one she admired and respected most was her father’s sister, Agnes. Her ideas were often radical, sometimes treading on the edge of heretical, but never had Lisette heard her suggest that she… that Lisette… Turning to her aunt, her eyes wide, Lisette stuttered, "Are you saying that, even if I’m wed and bound to Geraint, that I could… that I should…" she trailed off, unable to finish the words.

"Take a lover? Why, yes, dear. Surely you don’t think I found satisfaction as a young women with those old men I married. Nor did I get all aflutter if my husband wished to share his bed with some other lady. If this dark stranger appeals to you… And I can see right clearly enough that he does, it’s written plain on your face every time his name is mentioned. As long as you are discrete and cause no embarrassment to your husband, well, such things are perhaps more common than you imagine."

Maybe it was the wine, Lisette thought wildly. Or perhaps she was still asleep and her mind was sinfully conjuring these thoughts to fulfill her evil fantasies. Shaking her head, Lisette whispered, "But the Church forbids…"

"The Church!" Agnes spat, startling Lisette with her vehemence. "No one can count the bastards and whores who occupy the Holy See, nor count the illegitimate children of the popes and cardinals. Why, your own village priest…" She stopped abruptly. "Forgive me, child. If your faith is yet pure I should not tarnish it. You’ll see for yourself soon enough how the world is. Just believe me when I say that if you were less than true to your marriage vows you’d not be thought of too poorly for it. It would be a long search to find one who could truly cast the first stone."

Lisette gulped down the rest of her wine and reached to pour more. Her head swirled with all her aunt had said. This, she realized coldly, was what it was to be an adult. No more the protected nest of childhood, where the darkness of the world was shielded from her view. Here was the bleak, abyss of reality. Though she would be a man’s wife, pledged to obey him, she was, and would be, her own mistress. No one could choose her path but herself alone. It gave her a feeling of strength, and a faint tremor of apprehension.

Holding her refilled cup tightly, something Agnes said puzzled her. "You said that a woman must be, uh, satisfied carnally in order to bear children. What exactly does that mean? What, uh… What does it…" Lisette trailed off.

"What does it feel like?" Agnes completed the thought bluntly. She leaned back and looked thoughtful. "I’m not sure mere words suffice. It’s a sweeping feeling, starting deep within and seizing your entire body until a grand moment of release." Pursing her lips, she sighed. "And that’s as inadequate as describing a rainbow to a blind man. Trust me. You’ll know when it happens."

Or when it almost happens, Lisette pondered, remembering sweet, scented cream oozing between her fingers as they moved slowly and rhythmically over Ashur’s body. If so small a thing could bring her to such heights, what ecstasy awaited her in the fruition of the act? With a staggering revelation, Lisette realized she was actually considering the suggestion that she be wantonly unfaithful to her husband. No. No, no matter what earthly pleasures may accompany such license, it was wrong. It was wrong and no matter how difficult she found it, she would not betray her beliefs, her vows or her husband.

A log broke, sending a shower of sparks flying upward. Agnes opened a small chest by the fireplace, took out a handful of dried herbs and tossed them in the fire. A spicy scent filled the room. Lisette stretched, letting the comfortable atmosphere of this beloved place soothe her. Above her was Aunt Agnes’ remarkable library. She had over two hundred books in her possession, more than even some of the best libraries in Europe.

"I wonder if I shall ever have near so grand a library as you," Lisette said, reaching to fondly touch the spine of one of the volumes. It was Chaucer’s Canterbury Tales, that she’d first had read to her as a child in this very room.

"If you’re determined enough," Agnes said. "We’re at the brink of a new age, I think. You’re lucky to have your vibrant youth. You may live to see grand and wondrous things take place, things beyond our poor imaginings." She hesitated. "I know you’ve kept our discussions here only between your father and you, but may I ask that if I show you something now, that you not speak of it to anyone? Not your father, nor even your husband?"

Surprised, Lisette nodded. "You know you may trust me. I’d never betray your trust," she said and thought about the care she must take to make sure she never betrayed Geraint’s trust in her promises too.

Agnes stood. She moved first to the library doors, turning the key to lock the door. Lisette stood and shook out her crumpled skirt. Puzzled, she watched as Agnes drew closed the drapes, darkening the room. She lit a candle from the fire and handed it to Lisette. Only then did she go to the bookcase, manipulating something with her hands that Lisette couldn’t quite see. With a sharp click, the bookcase swung out away from the wall. Set into the wall behind the bookcase was another door. The key scraped in the lock that protested with a rusty groan before turning.

Pushing inward on the door, Agnes stepped aside, gesturing to Lisette to proceed. Feeling as if she were entering yet another adventure, Lisette’s racing thoughts again spun to realize all the marvels that had been revealed to her in the past few days.

Through the low, narrow doorway, Lisette entered a room swirling with dust. The size was such that Lisette could have touched both opposite walls at once with her arms outstretched. A rough, oak desk stood in the center of the small stone chamber. On it was the stub of a candle, parchment, ink and a quill. The bench was coarse and uncushioned. A fine layer of dust covered everything. No carpet softened this floor, nor imported tiles decorated the bare oak planks. High above, several stories at least, were tiny slits of windows that admitted scant light. But it was something else that caught and held her attention, that made her gasp, then sneeze as the dust filled her nose. Lining the walls were even more books, books and pamphlets and rolled parchments.

"It needs a cleaning," Agnes commented. "But I seldom dare come in here. Not even my servants know of this room’s existence. And, as you can see from the design, no one can see in."

"What is it? What is all of this?" Lisette breathed, stepping to a shelf of books, her finger wiping the dust off the titles.

"These are books that ought to be burned. They’re filled with sedition and heresy and some that truly are outright blasphemy by any decent person’s judgment. But they are treasures of thought and knowledge that I thought ought to be preserved." She pulled down one volume. "This took me considerable effort to obtain, and at that I only managed the German version and so had to commission a translator. These are the ninety-five theses of that rebellious monk, Martin Luther. You’ll want to read it before you fix your life on the course set by the Pope and his bishops." She put the book back and, after a moment’s thought, chose another, older, book. "Here’s one that might interest you. I know how you’ve always been fascinated with the stars and the heavens."

Tearing her attention unwillingly away from the religious text of which she had heard much but seen little, Lisette focused her attention on the book her aunt now held. A shooting star streaked through her musings with a searing brilliance, sending a flush to her cheeks. "Indeed, I often watch the sky, for great wonders can appear in it, signs and portents of miraculous events."

Agnes snorted softly. "Well, this isn’t the prattling nonsense of mystics who claim to see the future in the stars. Have you heard of Mikolaj Kopernik?"

Lisette mouthed the name. "Oh! Of course, Nicolaus Copernicus." She lowered her voice. "He’s a heretic."

"He’s a man of reasoning and science. This is his commentary on the motion of celestial bodies. He claims it is the Earth that moves about the sun, not the sun about the Earth."

Stroking the dangerous volume with tentative fingers, Lisette knew she ought to close her eyes to it at once, to look no more on the seditious words the Church said were consummate evil. She couldn’t. A craving deep within compelled her to slowly open the book, her eyes seeking hungrily the words of the Latin text within.

As the words began to fill her mind and soul, Aunt Agnes’ hand eclipsed the page. Raising her eyes to meet her aunt’s, Lisette read clearly the concern in them. "Once opened this door cannot be closed," Agnes said quietly, and Lisette understood her meaning perfectly. Her hand strayed to the magical crystal of Ashur’s still concealed about her neck. Gently she moved her aunt’s hand aside and began to read.

High above and at a distance greater than the Greeks had imagined to be the boundaries of the entire universe, a sleek shape appeared. Moving around the Earth, that itself moved around the sun, the craft and its venal occupants scrutinized the unaware world.

"Dark down there," one commented as they crossed the unlit continents on the nightside of the planet.

"In more ways than one."

"No lights, no broadcasts, no emitters…"

"No screens or scanners. Not even so simple a thing as radar."

"Not even telescopes," came the retort. "Just primitives squatting by their fires terrified of demons in the dark."

The laugh that followed would have chilled the blood of even the bravest. "And how right they are. Here we are."