La Luz de Luna
Chapter 2
"Watchinatchi, ayunumkundi. Watchinatchi, bussadilate ..."
Kira spoke the old words in deepest earnest, calling upon God to give her child a name. Her child must be named by a true Pe-i-man, but she knew of none in the strange town of wood and stone where now she lived. Children without names grow up to lead lives without purpose. She tried to explain all of this to Thomas, but nothing interested him any more. The affairs of the baby were far from his mind these days, as he spent hours by candlelight poring over maps and throwing daggers to the wall. What his affairs were she did not know and thought best not to ask. When he wasn't stewed in solitude, Thomas was mired in dark company, with men of strange accents and foreign manners crowding the house till the wee hours of the morning. The harsh, angry words and bottles crashing to the floor, kept her awake so that she barely found time to sleep. When she did, the dreams returned, in ever greater intensity, such that she was barely able to discern waking from sleeping. Over the past three days, she had decided, finally to ask Father Wright, the parish priest, to name her baby. She knew now, from the dreams, that she would not live to see her baby named. She buried her face in her hands, sobbing.
When night fell, she slipped out the back door and walked toward the church. With every step, she felt the presence of a man following her. From the click of his heels on cobblestone, she knew right away that he was no ordinary peasant or commoner. He was a man of high birth. She forced herself not to look and tried to move quickly, the burden of her heavy belly weighing down her every step. She must reach the church. A woman alone in the street at night ... she shuddered to think.
Finally, there was no ignoring that the footfalls behind her were getting closer with every step. She would have to greet her follower, or be overtaken by him. Summoning all of her courage, she turned and faced the dark.
Kira spoke the old words in deepest earnest, calling upon God to give her child a name. Her child must be named by a true Pe-i-man, but she knew of none in the strange town of wood and stone where now she lived. Children without names grow up to lead lives without purpose. She tried to explain all of this to Thomas, but nothing interested him any more. The affairs of the baby were far from his mind these days, as he spent hours by candlelight poring over maps and throwing daggers to the wall. What his affairs were she did not know and thought best not to ask. When he wasn't stewed in solitude, Thomas was mired in dark company, with men of strange accents and foreign manners crowding the house till the wee hours of the morning. The harsh, angry words and bottles crashing to the floor, kept her awake so that she barely found time to sleep. When she did, the dreams returned, in ever greater intensity, such that she was barely able to discern waking from sleeping. Over the past three days, she had decided, finally to ask Father Wright, the parish priest, to name her baby. She knew now, from the dreams, that she would not live to see her baby named. She buried her face in her hands, sobbing.
When night fell, she slipped out the back door and walked toward the church. With every step, she felt the presence of a man following her. From the click of his heels on cobblestone, she knew right away that he was no ordinary peasant or commoner. He was a man of high birth. She forced herself not to look and tried to move quickly, the burden of her heavy belly weighing down her every step. She must reach the church. A woman alone in the street at night ... she shuddered to think.
Finally, there was no ignoring that the footfalls behind her were getting closer with every step. She would have to greet her follower, or be overtaken by him. Summoning all of her courage, she turned and faced the dark.
She knew him instantly as the owner of one of the angry voices which frequented her house many late nights. His reason for following her, she did not care to know. It could not be a good one.
"My Lord," she declined her head, dropping into a low curtsy.
He looked down upon her, an inscrutable, haughty leer. He motioned her into the church.
She followed, not without misgiving. It was, after all, where she'd been headed, though, of course, not to see him--this man whom she'd never formally met, and for whom she had nothing but distrust. Surely he would not behave in an ungentlemanly way in the house of the Divine Provider. She followed where he led her into the sanctuary.
"My Lord," she declined her head, dropping into a low curtsy.
He looked down upon her, an inscrutable, haughty leer. He motioned her into the church.
She followed, not without misgiving. It was, after all, where she'd been headed, though, of course, not to see him--this man whom she'd never formally met, and for whom she had nothing but distrust. Surely he would not behave in an ungentlemanly way in the house of the Divine Provider. She followed where he led her into the sanctuary.
"Madame," he tore the word jaggedly from his throat as though it hurt him to speak it. "If you'll excuse the impertinence, I shall ask an indecent question of you."
Kira sucked her breath in sharply, wondering what request would issue forth next. Some things she would not be willing to do for this man. She hoped sincerely he would not ask.
Taking her silence as acquiescence, he continued in the same silky tone, "The bastard, I presume, is Thorne's?"
There was another of those words she would never understand. Bastard? Thomas had explained it to her as a baby with no name. That she understood--but--somehow--Bastard meant something more--something worse.
"Well, sir, that is my purpose for visiting the Church. To seek a name for this child."
The gentleman laughed an awful laugh. "Think you to find a father for this bastard in the house of Divine Providence, Savage?"
"Sir Thomas has told me to find the Father here, yes." The words tumbled forth quickly, falling upon themselves in an odd heap, clearly wrong.
Kira sucked her breath in sharply, wondering what request would issue forth next. Some things she would not be willing to do for this man. She hoped sincerely he would not ask.
Taking her silence as acquiescence, he continued in the same silky tone, "The bastard, I presume, is Thorne's?"
There was another of those words she would never understand. Bastard? Thomas had explained it to her as a baby with no name. That she understood--but--somehow--Bastard meant something more--something worse.
"Well, sir, that is my purpose for visiting the Church. To seek a name for this child."
The gentleman laughed an awful laugh. "Think you to find a father for this bastard in the house of Divine Providence, Savage?"
"Sir Thomas has told me to find the Father here, yes." The words tumbled forth quickly, falling upon themselves in an odd heap, clearly wrong.
"Well, yes. He is right. That you shall do. You shall certainly find a Father in this church." And with that he laughed again, a silvery laugh that ran like cold water over her.
"This child must have a name, My Lord. The Father can give this child a name. That is right?"
"Yes, yes. Right." He paused, musing. "You see, I have a proposition for you. But you must do exactly as I ask, or this child shall never have a name. Is that clear?"
"This child must have a name, My Lord. The Father can give this child a name. That is right?"
"Yes, yes. Right." He paused, musing. "You see, I have a proposition for you. But you must do exactly as I ask, or this child shall never have a name. Is that clear?"
"Indeed, my Lord. It is."
"Then, when your time shall come to bring this child forth, you must give the Bastard to me. I shall take him and he shall be brought to parts far from here, where he shall reign as a mighty ruler. His name shall be remembered by all who hear it, for many centuries. Does that sound good to you?"
Kira listened with a growing sadness in her heart, knowing the words were a lie. The baby she carried was a girl. What he said could not be true. She had known this ever since the first fluttering in her belly. Still, perhaps he could give her child a better home than where she was destined to go. She knew that she would not survive the birth, and she knew with even greater certainty that Sir Thomas would not be a good father to the child.
"Then, when your time shall come to bring this child forth, you must give the Bastard to me. I shall take him and he shall be brought to parts far from here, where he shall reign as a mighty ruler. His name shall be remembered by all who hear it, for many centuries. Does that sound good to you?"
Kira listened with a growing sadness in her heart, knowing the words were a lie. The baby she carried was a girl. What he said could not be true. She had known this ever since the first fluttering in her belly. Still, perhaps he could give her child a better home than where she was destined to go. She knew that she would not survive the birth, and she knew with even greater certainty that Sir Thomas would not be a good father to the child.
"My Lord, I shall. Instruct me only what to do."
"When thou hast delivered the child, Sir Thomas must be made to think it not his. He shall abandon him, and the midwife must be told to bring the babe here, to the church, where I shall receive it at fortune's alms."
"Yes, my lord."
"In good time, you shall like to hear from one of my servants, who will provide you with the necessary things you shall need for a comfortable delivery. We shan't have this much awaited miracle's coming hence ruined. You may rise."
Kira looked up to see the priest enter the sanctuary. Though none but a very careful observer would notice, he appeared to her agitated, the blood in his cheeks flushed and warm.
"Your Grace," Father Wright bowed. "How does my Lord Teverson, this fine evening?"
Kira recognized the name instantly as someone Sir Thomas had spoken of with heated vehemence. She hoped fervently she had not made a mistake entreating the safety of her child to this man.
"Very well, thank you. I shall be going now." Lord Teverson nodded slightly and strode through the sanctuary, slipping through the doors and into the night.
Father Wright turned to her, an expectant silence filling the air between them. Now was the time, if ever, to find whether this child could be named.
"Dear Father. This child in my belly. She needs a name. A true name of my people. I ask thee, dear sir, to please perform the naming ceremony."
"When thou hast delivered the child, Sir Thomas must be made to think it not his. He shall abandon him, and the midwife must be told to bring the babe here, to the church, where I shall receive it at fortune's alms."
"Yes, my lord."
"In good time, you shall like to hear from one of my servants, who will provide you with the necessary things you shall need for a comfortable delivery. We shan't have this much awaited miracle's coming hence ruined. You may rise."
Kira looked up to see the priest enter the sanctuary. Though none but a very careful observer would notice, he appeared to her agitated, the blood in his cheeks flushed and warm.
"Your Grace," Father Wright bowed. "How does my Lord Teverson, this fine evening?"
Kira recognized the name instantly as someone Sir Thomas had spoken of with heated vehemence. She hoped fervently she had not made a mistake entreating the safety of her child to this man.
"Very well, thank you. I shall be going now." Lord Teverson nodded slightly and strode through the sanctuary, slipping through the doors and into the night.
Father Wright turned to her, an expectant silence filling the air between them. Now was the time, if ever, to find whether this child could be named.
"Dear Father. This child in my belly. She needs a name. A true name of my people. I ask thee, dear sir, to please perform the naming ceremony."
"Hush, dear lady. Think what you've asked of me. You heard the Lord--you've agreed to give up the child. I can do nothing for you now."
"Yes. He has agreed to take the child after she is born. But she needs a name, which must be given her by a true Father. A father of the spirit. That is you."
"Ah, yes. I see. Then I shall do it--but only the naming ceremony. At the proper time, I shall have to give the child up. You understand that?"
"Yes. That is fine, Father. It is what must be."
"You speak certainly of this child, that it is 'she.' How cam'st thou to know that? It is beyond the ken of any man to know the will of Divine Providence."
"But it is by Providence that I know, Father. It came to me in a dream where I saw her born and laid beside me, the most beautiful creature brought forth."
"Blasphemy. Thou canst say of creation what is 'most beautiful.'"
"I beg your forgiveness, Father. Shall you know what she is to be named?"
"Yes, yes. Tell me then what is this child to be called?"
"She must be named Katilinda, the light of the moon."
The Priest stood silent, as though the room had suddenly grown cold and dark.
"Ka-tee-leen-da? What sort of name is that? It has a heathen sound about it."
"It is her destiny to be named for the moon. She will bring light to all who see her."
"Then she shall be given a good name, in keeping of Providence. She shall be called La Luz de Luna, or Lucita. I shall give no Heathen names in this house of Divine Providence."
Kira found that she could not disagree. If the child was to be named, she would have to be given the name of the Father. Bowing low, she thanked the priest profusely, tears streaming down her face. All that was left now was to bring the child forth, and that would have to happen soon.
Go to Chapter 3
"Yes. He has agreed to take the child after she is born. But she needs a name, which must be given her by a true Father. A father of the spirit. That is you."
"Ah, yes. I see. Then I shall do it--but only the naming ceremony. At the proper time, I shall have to give the child up. You understand that?"
"Yes. That is fine, Father. It is what must be."
"You speak certainly of this child, that it is 'she.' How cam'st thou to know that? It is beyond the ken of any man to know the will of Divine Providence."
"But it is by Providence that I know, Father. It came to me in a dream where I saw her born and laid beside me, the most beautiful creature brought forth."
"Blasphemy. Thou canst say of creation what is 'most beautiful.'"
"I beg your forgiveness, Father. Shall you know what she is to be named?"
"Yes, yes. Tell me then what is this child to be called?"
"She must be named Katilinda, the light of the moon."
The Priest stood silent, as though the room had suddenly grown cold and dark.
"Ka-tee-leen-da? What sort of name is that? It has a heathen sound about it."
"It is her destiny to be named for the moon. She will bring light to all who see her."
"Then she shall be given a good name, in keeping of Providence. She shall be called La Luz de Luna, or Lucita. I shall give no Heathen names in this house of Divine Providence."
Kira found that she could not disagree. If the child was to be named, she would have to be given the name of the Father. Bowing low, she thanked the priest profusely, tears streaming down her face. All that was left now was to bring the child forth, and that would have to happen soon.
Go to Chapter 3