Love, Lies and Illusions
By Linda J. Dunn
Maura sat by the doorway, waiting for Neva, the daughter she'd abandoned years earlier. Vera, her friend and caretaker, stood in the courtyard frowning and casting dark glances in Maura's direction. Vera did not approve of Maura's deception, but had agreed to do nothing that would interfere with Maura's plans.
Hoofbeats echoed through the forest and a moment later, a horse and rider burst into the clearing. Neva looked around and dismounted, beside Vera, standing a full head taller than Vera and at least half a head taller than Maura would be if Maura were still capable of standing.
Maura stared at her daughter's distant form, wishing once again that her eyes could view reality with the same sharpness of vision as she experienced in her dreams and visions. She squinted, searching for some resemblance between Neva and the lanky barbarians who had forced themselves upon Maura almost thirteen years earlier. They had broken her back and filled her with child before the trauma unleashed a flow of magic that Maura had never dreamed she possessed.
Now she could see visions in the fire, cast illusions from miles away and cure sicknesses that no other could affect. But despite all those powers, Maura could not stand upon her own two feet.
She also could not find the courage to face the daughter she'd abandoned into her sister's care years earlier. Maura had crossed the distance many times with her mind and eavesdropped upon the girl's dreams but she had never seen her daughter's face.
If only her sister, Corra, had remained silent during her fever last night, all would still be as it was and Neva would believe she was seeking help from her aunt, not her mother.
Fear gripped Maura's heart. The task before her filled her with pain and for the first time in many years, she felt unequal to the chore ahead of her. Why did those who feared death find it necessary to confess? Neva was happy before Corra told her the truth last night. Now she was confused and troubled. Maura could feel the girl's tight control over her emotions falter as Vera stepped forward to take the reins.
"Mother?" Neva asked.
Vera shook her head and pointed towards the doorway. Maura took a deep breath and turned to the fire burning in the hearth. Despite the miles between them, she could see her sister Corra just as easily--no, more easily--as she could see Neva in the courtyard. Corra's eyes were closed but there was a faint smile upon her face. She looked so peaceful and happy, even while feverish, that Maura felt overcome by envy.
Corra had so much: A small cottage with a garden. A thriving business with every merchant's wife begging for one of her fine dresses. A child who loved her so deeply that she'd risk riding past bandits in the forest to seek out the one healer in the kingdom who possessed a cure for the sweating sickness.
Neva had the courage to face the mother she'd never met. Why couldn't Maura find that same courage to face her daughter?
Maura bit back tears and turned towards the doorway. Her body trembled and she willed it to stop. She must appear calm. Slowly, she forced herself to look up.
For the first time in twelve long years, Maura gazed upon her daughter's face. A cold chill swept through her body as she gazed upon a twin to herself twelve years younger. All these years she had feared seeing her daughter, imagining a replica of the barbarians who had inflicted such pain upon her. Instead, she found herself staring into a mirror across the years.
Her heart ached to reach out to the daughter she'd abandoned but Maura couldn't allow that. Indeed, she dare not allow herself to show even a shred of emotion or her carefully constructed illusion would crumble to dust.
"I know your need," Maura said. "I saw it all when I gazed into the hearth's fire last night. The potion is already bottled and rests in the saddlebags on the table. Take it and go quickly."
"The horse needs to rest first," Vera said.
Maura stared out at Vera, saying nothing but thinking, "You promised."
Vera's eyes narrowed. "I will rub him down and use some herbs that will make the return journey a little more bearable. Speed will do you no good if your horse falters before you reach home again." Her voice dropped to a mere whisper in Maura's mind. "I'm sure you are not in such a hurry to send our visitor away that you would risk such an occurrence."
Maura repressed a sharp reply. Vera had kept her promise not to reveal Maura's deception but at the same time, she had cleverly arranged for Neva to be delayed. Now Maura would have to talk to her daughter and risk the greatest lie of all being revealed.
Corra had, fortunately, confessed only to her part in the deception. Neva still had no idea that her conception was the result of rape.
Maura looked up as Neva stepped through the doorway. Neva paused, no doubt expecting Maura to rise and greet her. When she didn't, Neva walked across the enormous room, her mud-caked boots leaving a trail of dirt on the upon the tile floor. She stopped by the fireplace, running her fingers across the marble and examining the fine carving that surely belonged in the castle of some foreign king.
Her attention turned next to the tapestries, which covered the stone walls. Maura bit back a smile, knowing that she had succeeded in distracting Neva with her overpowering display of wealth.
Neva glanced past the entranceway, no doubt counting the tiles between each door and calculating the number of rooms within the grand castle.
"You live well, Mother."
Neva's mouth twisted into an ugly snarl upon the last word. She sat down on the stool near Maura and stared. "Well? Have you nothing to say to the daughter you abandoned at birth? Have you no curiosity? No concerns?"
"You are my niece," Maura said. "In all ways that matter, you are Corra's child."
"How can you sit there and say that?" Neva asked. "Look at you. Look at me. I never understood why I so little resembled my mother or father and now I know why."
"Corra is my sister."
"Step-sister. You share no blood."
"Blood does not bind families. Corra means more to me than the brother who left to follow Father into battle and never returned. I do not mourn his loss. I love Corra and would do anything for her."
Neva's hands clenched into tight fists and she leapt to her feet. "Liar! Look around you! Look at all the riches you enjoy while Mother--your sister--and I live simply. Have you no idea how hard she works? How many nights she's sat by the fire sewing until her fingers bleed because some merchant's wife wants a fancy dress but it must be done quickly?"
Maura said nothing, keeping her hands folded in her lap and her eyes staring blindly into the fireplace. She dare not look at her daughter.
"No! You don't care at all," Neva said. "You sit there, hands white as snow and unblemished by toil. Your face is pure white, untouched by the sun. Your gown is of the finest cloth and even your servant in the courtyard is dressed elegantly. You do not rise to meet me, no doubt thinking this cast-off daughter is unworthy of your attention. Your house--"
Neva paused and her arms spread wide, taking in everything around them. "The king himself probably doesn't posses a home so fine as this.
Maura looked up at those words, the realization of her failure striking fear into her heart. She had overdone it. The dwelling was supposed to impress and instead, she had built it so well that Neva would surely realize in a moment that she had spoken the truth. No healer could live better than the king. In a moment, Neva would realize all was not as it seemed. She would notice that her mother didn't rise to meet her not because she didn't want to do so but because her legs would not support her. Maura had been lucky so far that Neva was too distraught to see past the illusion so tenuously held together by magic and determination. Maura's grip upon the illusion was growing weaker with each moment. What would happen if it faltered and failed before Neva left?
She must be distracted.
Maura spoke softly and slowly, searching for just the right words in which to present the lie. "Surely you cannot believe that Corra would accept my help."
Neva sat down quickly, almost missing the stool. Her eyes stared straight ahead and her hands unclenched. She buried her face in her hands, pushing the hair back from her face.
"I'm sorry. Of course she wouldn't. I didn't know."
Neva looked up, her eyes full of tears. "Mother--your sister--she will survive?"
"The future is not fixed but I know she will be whole again if you arrive home safely before nightfall."
Neva looked out the window. "The horse?"
"Vera is my companion, not my servant. She is also a healer and has a rare gift for animals. The horse will return refreshed and ready to run again."
Neva looked up. She stared at the richly decorated walls again. Her eyes narrowed and Maura feared the girl was beginning to suspect all was not as it seemed. Fortunately, Maura had not been entirely foolish in choosing the items to display in this, the entranceway of their dwelling.
Maura pointed to a portrait on the far wall. The man was Corra's husband, Oswin.
Another lie to be carefully woven into the pattern of all the other lies. "Your father," Maura said. "Yes, you really were Oswin's daughter. He volunteered to take me my boat to the next village, where I was to learn if Vera's mother would take me as an apprentice. Barbarians attacked the village before our arrival and he was wounded. The healer gave him a drug that caused him to hallucinate. He thought I was Corra and I was too weak to resist him."
Maura took a deep breath and glanced up at Neva. The girl's eyes were wide and the tears were flowing freely. She believed. That was good. Her heritage was restored and she would never again question who she really was and where she belonged. Now to drive home the importance of keeping this lie a secret from Corra, just in case Corra ever felt the need to confess fully."
"He killed himself the next morning when he realized what he'd done. Corra never knew and must never know. Can you understand this?"
Neva's nodded. "I--I never imagined, after last night--"
Maura felt the lie roll easily off her tongue. "I lied to Corra. I told her barbarians attacked me and Oswin died defending me. I could not tell her in one breath that her husband was dead and I was carrying the child she could never have."
Maura closed her eyes. It all flooded back now. The barbarian invasion. Vera's mother lying on the floor and bleeding so badly that nothing Maura could have done would have slowed the flow.
Maura wasn't allowed to do anything. The barbarians had other plans for her.
She closed her eyes and pushed the memory back. Not for the first time, she wondered quietly if she would have developed her gift without the trauma of the attack. That was why she was there, in a village over a day's journey from home. Oswin had really taken her to Vera's mother for testing. That part of the lie, at least, was true. But Oswin had died badly, fleeing in fear and abandoning them to their own fate.
Some truths should never be known. Lies were so much more comforting.
The vision flooded back, unbidden. She'd gone too far into the memory and was no longer able to retreat.
Vera's mother was the most talented sorceress in the kingdom but she hadn't expected the barbarians to know her name. If Vera hadn't hidden in the barn and rushed to rescue Maura when the barbarians set the hut ablaze--. No. She would not think of it. She would be strong and push back those memories.
The smell of sweat-soaked leather filled her nostrils and for a moment, she feared the old memories had proven too powerful and overwhelmed her, even though she was awake.
Opening her eyes, she realized Neva was standing beside her and the scent was not from a walking nightmare but from her daughter's clothing.
She forced herself to concentrate on the task at hand. Her daughter would be happy. She would choose to live her life as she wished, unridden with a sense of guilt or obligation to a mother who was crippled by her conception. Too many times Maura had seen young girls devote their lives to carrying for others, only to find love too late for the family they so wanted.
Corra, for example. She'd devoted her life to caring for sick parents and then the young step-siblings left behind. By the time Maura, the youngest, was of an age to care for herself, Corra was almost past the age of child-bearing and it was only by the greatest of luck that she had found Oswin, a man she believed was far finer than he was. In many ways, it was lucky he died before his actions destroyed that illusion.
Maura would never allow Neva to throw away her life for others the way Corra had done and would have done again if Maura hadn't lied and convinced Corra that a good healer could heal herself.
Another necessary lie.
Instead, Maura had devoted her life to healing the sick while hiding away with Vera in the middle of the forest where she could pretend that isolating herself from love was her own choice rather than accepting the fact that she feared not so much never finding love as the rare possibility of meeting someone who would look beyond her body to the person within.
Maura shivered and forced herself to speak. This time, there was no need to lie. "Corra's pain was great. She had no child and I knew that if I left with you, Cora would have walked into the sea."
"You saw this?"
"There are some things which are so certain that one doesn't need magic to know what will be. I knew Corra would give you all those things that I could never offer. You were happy before you knew the truth, weren't you? What does it matter who gave birth? Your real mother is my sister, not me. Hasn't she been a good mother to you?"
Neva looked away for a moment before turning back. Her eyes were filled with tears. "She is all a daughter could want. She will be all right, won't she? As long as I return before nightfall?"
Maura nodded. "Corra will survive but your roles will be reversed for a while. She will need you to stay with her rather than run away and become a swordswoman like you have been planning."
Neva gasped. "How did you know that?"
Maura smiled. "How could I not? Think carefully, Neva. Would you have really enjoyed growing up in a home where your mother would know your every thought and dream?"
Neva hesitated a moment and Maura quickly added. "Too many see the abilities and not the problems that come with magic. You may not understand now but someday you will. This was not a life for a child, Neva. If you can't understand that, at least believe I'm telling you the truth when I say that I could never have taken proper care of you."
Neva opened her mouth to say something but Vera entered the room and spoke first. "Your horse is ready."
Maura repressed a sigh of relief.
"I must go now," Neva said. She paused in the doorway. "You do not want me to return, do you?"
"It would be best for all of us if you returned to seeing Corra as your mother. I was but the woman who bore you. Corra is your true mother."
Neva's eyes filled with tears. Maura noted the white knuckles as Neva's hands clenched the saddlebags tightly.
"You don't care about me at all?"
Maura bit back her own pain and lied again. "I do not have it within me to share my life with another. Magic is my life. There is no room in my heart for anything or anyone else."
Neva ran to her horse, throwing the bags across the animal and leaving in a cloud of dust.
As hoofbeats faded in the distance, the magnificent stone castle turned back into a simple one-room hut, the fine furnishings vanished, and their clothes faded into patched garments. Maura collapsed and Vera carried her to bed.
"This foolish illusion has cost you days of strength and for what? All you've done is postpone the inevitable. She will learn the truth someday and hate you all the more for lying to her."
Maura turned towards Vera's voice. She could no longer see her friend and caregiver but she knew from the tone of voice that Vera was scowling.
"And how would she ever learn the truth? I have lied well. No matter what Corra tells her, she will believe my lies. You are the only one remaining who knows the truth. Would you betray me? Would you tell my daughter that her mother was raped, beaten, and left for dead by several barbarians, any one of whom could have been her father?"
"You could tell her the truth about your injuries without telling her how they occurred."
Maura shook her head. "No. I would far rather have her believe me a cruel, heartless woman than learn I'm really a cripple unable to care for myself, let alone a child. I'll not have her pity me and decide to forfeit the life she wants out of some sense of duty. If she knew the truth, she would think it necessary to move here and help care for her poor, crippled mother. I will not allow my daughter to throw her life away for me. She is my daughter and if she comes to hate me for lying to her, well that is the price I am prepared to pay."
Vera laid a cover over Maura's useless body and tucked the cover around her. "You are wrong my friend, but I will never betray you."
Maura felt weak, exhausted from the use of too much magic in a way in which magic was never intended to be used. "I am right, Vera. And if you'd ever been a mother, you would understand that." Immediately, Maura felt shamed. Vera had escaped the barbarians but she had her own burdens to bear. Vera had her own illusions to hide behind. Like Corra, she had devoted her life to others for far too many years. Maura would feel guilty about relying upon her now had not Vera been so old when they met that it was clear she could never adjust to another life.
Vera's voice was soft and barely audible. "There are times, my friend, when I am most grateful that I never had children."
Maura turned her head, unwilling to allow Vera to see her tears.
What was one more lie, especially when it might comfort a dear friend?
"You are lucky, Vera. I wish I was childless too."
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