“Silver From Gold (Conclusion)”

She and the babe remained in the sanctuary for a few days. Tero continued his regular visits, but Mami was committed to attend other labours and could not come to the citadel as often as she would have liked. Finally, Tero lost his temper.

“You know, Mami could see him every day if you brought him home.”

Analise said nothing. She drew her knees up tighter and settled the babe more securely at her breast. He had a hearty appetite, being blissfully unaware of the controversy in his existence. He slept peacefully, and yipped or mewled rather than squalled or wailed.

“You’re safely delivered,” Tero went on. “You can’t hide the babe in this little room forever, either.”

“I’m not hiding.”

“What do you call it? Waiting? I’ve told you: Luko isn’t coming back.”

“I’m not waiting for Luko,” she said.

He almost tore out a handful of curls in frustration. “Then who are you waiting for, dimwit?”

“She’s waiting for me—is that not so, little wolf?”

She and Tero both looked to the door. Poppi stood at the threshold, serious but not sheepish as his gaze met his daughter’s. His eyes were his most eloquent feature, large and dreamily blue in a face that, like Tero’s, was almost too beautiful to be male.

“May I come in?” he asked.

Analise nodded. He paused to banish Tero, adding that he shut the door when he left. This brought a smile to Ana’s lips. Her brother was notorious for listening at keyholes, but she had not suspected that Poppi knew of his habit. Tero merely looked affronted and made a great show of closing the door behind him. An odd silence descended, punctuated by the babe’s businesslike suckling and the occasional snap-crackle from the fire.

“Your mother tells me that you did very well.”

“Why didn’t you come sooner?” Analise asked, unable to bear the trifles.

“I was here on the night,” Poppi replied. “I was just outside the door, like your brother is now. Had anyone tried to interfere, they would have had to kill me first.” He stepped closer, a smile already forming as he observed the babe in his daughter’s arms. “How is he?”

“Very much like his father, Mami says.”

“Not so discontented, though. There’s a relief. His father was born raging. I wouldn’t wish a raging child on you for all the pearls in the ocean.” Without awaiting invitation, Poppi put out his hands and scooped the babe from Ana’s grasp. The little fellow protested at his breakfast being disturbed, but his grandfather stroked a finger over his cheek and quieted him. “Reijo,” he said, softly. He cocked a brow at Analise. “Do you object?”

She had no idea what to say. The name was wonderful as its previous owner had been wonderful. She felt somewhat shamed that the tribute had not occurred to her when her grandfather had been so kind an influence.

“I know,” Poppi said. “You were no doubt struggling to honour Luko’s family with a name, but you forget that we are Luko’s family. My father was particularly fond of him—or should I say, concerned for him. He would be delighted with this little pup.”

“Then it’s right that we name the babe for him,” Analise said.

“Thank you, my girl.”

She shrugged, unaccountably awkward in her father’s presence when she was completely capable in everyone else’s. Poppi seemed as discomfited, though he hid it better by doting on the babe. The irony in so much fuss being made over the child he had pretended to ignore before birth hung thick in the air.

“Do you plan to raise him in this little room?” Poppi finally inquired.

“This is the safest place in Irfeu,” Analise said.

“I agreed with you, until the other night. Now that the babe is born and you are well, it’s time to come home.”

Much as Analise longed to return to her father’s house, she remained unsure of her son’s safety beyond the sanctuary walls. In truth, very little was certain, except the scandal she and the child must endure before Noni claimed him for Irfe.

Poppi listened patiently, idly stroking Reijo’s cheek with his finger as Analise admitted her fear of what awaited between now and the naming. Once the babe’s gift was confirmed, he would be known as Irfe’s Reijo and due respect would be given. Until then, he must abide as Analise’s Reijo, and folk were less tolerant of children born to unwed mothers. No physical harm would befall him, of course, but Analise distrusted Noni for reasons even she could not identify. It was as if Luko’s blood had granted her a semblance of his ability to sense pending danger.

“No one can trust Noni,” Poppi said, flatly. “Many do, but they know no better. Analise, be prepared for her to deny that your pup is gifted. She must name him because she is shamir and no one else has the right, but she may very well ignore the presence of Fire until she has no other choice.”

Analise was appalled. “Poppi, she has no other choice! Luko sired this babe through a blood vow with me. I know that my son gifted. I know it!”

Poppi silenced her with a forefinger. “Because the ritual is a private matter, there is much public rumour to the contrary. Besides, I have it on good authority that Noni seeks a spark in Rikka. If she succeeds, then Luko’s sister will be named Irfe’s Heir and Luko himself might never have been born.”

Ana’s fiery spirit reared in a panic. “She cannot succeed!”

“Naturally,” Poppi said, calmly. “Noni, however, must discover this for herself. Until she does, we must be mindful of your pup’s gift and do our best to protect him from it. This child is the future of Irfe’s Children. His time will come, little wolf. When it does, I will be ready.”

A chilled hand caught Ana by the throat, squeezing her voice to a whisper. “What will you do?”

“I will handle Noni. You needn’t know more than that.”

When Poppi spoke so coldly, Analise knew she would get no further—nor did she want to. A greater relief than she had known in the wake of Reijo’s birth threatened to overwhelm her now. Poppi might have been difficult during her term, but she had relied on him her whole life for comfort and security, and he had never failed her. He had struggled for Luko, with Luko and thus with her, and her perception had been tainted because of it. She had grown up with Luko as a brother, all the while knowing he was not, that he was different, and that Poppi had been unable, in the end, to spare him the battle with Irfe’s Noni.

He smiled when she tearfully asked his forgiveness. “My precious girl,” he rumbled, his voice unnaturally hoarse. “There is nothing you can do that will require my forgiveness. It is I who must beg yours. I know how deeply you loved Luko. In truth, you were the best choice for him; had you not been my daughter, I would have done my all to seal the match. My fear was solely for your happiness, Analise. There is no pleasure in being proved right, believe me.”

Analise did. It was equally important that he understand what Luko had meant to her. “I was happy with him, Poppi. I was never happier, and if those few weeks were all the gods intended, then I regret nothing. They may have stolen Luko, but they left me with his son.”

A cheerful yap from within the shawl earned a wistful smile and a tender kiss from Ana’s father. He lingered at the babe’s brow, his eyes briefly closing as he breathed the scent of new life. Analise stayed silent in the window bay, watching him relive a memory. Which of the four babes he had raised came to mind when he nuzzled little Reijo? She could guess, but not know, for she would not ask. 

* * *

 Tero was summoned to help pack her things. There were not many, and what gifts had come for Reijo were easily tucked into the basket Mami had brought on the morning of Ana’s labour. The babe remained in his grandfather’s care, at his grandfather’s insistence and with his mother’s blessing.

Analise dressed in the same garb she had worn when she arrived, the skirt now loose about her middle and the blouse almost snug over her breasts. She hesitated by the clothes chest as her brother haphazardly stuffed gowns and nappies into the babe’s basket. When his back was turned, she grabbed the last of Luko’s shirts. She would have buried it amid Reijo’s things, but Tero, curse him, caught her at the last instant. “What’s this?” he teased, whipping it from her hand.

“Give it back! Tero!”

Poppi promptly intervened. “Leave her be, young pup. It’s nothing to you.”

And everything to me. She snatched it back from Tero, bundling it into her blouse rather than risk him “accidentally” losing it. “Thank you, Poppi.”

He gave his son the special hard look reserved solely for juvenile nonsense. Undaunted, Ana’s brother blithely finished packing the basket and gallantly proffered her cloak. “It’s time to go home, dimwit.”

Home. Analise surveyed the room where her life had been forever changed and wondered if she would ever return. She might, she thought, if he ever did. She might also bring Reijo to visit. Once his gift was confirmed and he was named Irfe’s Heir, he might choose to keep these rooms for himself. He would know their significance; she would see to that.

Noni waited in the outer room. Analise had neither seen nor spoken with her since the unpleasant exchange preceding Reijo’s birth, but it followed that Noni would be kept apprised of all that occurred beneath her roof, whether or not she approved. Spotting the old woman nearly sent her fleeing back to the sanctuary, but she would not go without her babe and Poppi was firmly in possession of him. Analise suddenly saw the wisdom in Poppi’s insistence. Tero saw it, too. He caught his sister’s elbow in one hand, staying her while the elders squared off.

“Come to claim your daughter’s bastard, Jarkko?”

“I’ve come to take him home, Noni. I know he’s unwanted here.”

The glittering green eyes lit briefly on Analise, who tipped her chin and met them. “I’ve done my part,” Noni said. “I shall have these rooms scrubbed clean by nightfall.”

“They could use it,” Poppi agreed. “My thanks for your hospitality toward my daughter.”

“I do not intend to set a precedent for other dishonoured women.”

“You mean whores,” Tero snapped, unable to curb his temper.

“If you insist. She is your sister, after all.”

“And Luko was my brother!”

“I know what Luko was, Antero. What he was not is the father of that child. Consent was neither requested nor granted, therefore the blood vow allegedly sworn between your sister and my grandson is null.”

Poppi put up a hand. “You have made that clear on countless occasions, Noni. We submit to Irfe’s judgement on the matter. However, the child must be named, and as his mother is a daughter of Irfe, Irfe must agree to protect and defend him.”

“So he will, to the best of his Children’s ability. May I ask what name you have chosen? Not ‘Luko’, I hope.”

“That’s reserved for Rikka’s son,” Analise spoke up, rashly.

Poppi heaved the sigh of a man cursed with obstinate children. “Ana has agreed to name him for my father.”

“ ‘Reijo’? That seems meet. Let me see him.”

Ana’s heart sprang into her throat as Noni stepped forward and Poppi did not retreat. Little Reijo had been dozing. On Noni’s approach, he woke as if sensing he was about to be put on display and must greet his visitor as good manners dictated. Tero’s hand tightened on Ana’s arm. She froze in place, her heart beating so wildly that she could barely breathe. Poppi tipped the bundle in his arms so Noni could better see the babe. To everyone’s amazement, Noni’s shoulders relaxed, revealing a tension that none had suspected until it was released.

“He’s silver,” she said.

“He’s a wolf,” Tero growled. Poppi frowned at him, but Ana’s brother remained on guard, practically snarling at Luko’s grandmother.

“Very much his mother’s son,” Noni observed. “The father is not obvious at all. Let me hold him, Jarkko. I assure you, I have held newborns before.”

Ana’s heart ceased its frenetic pulsing. Her breath died with it, but she called on the blood she shared with Luko to thwart the old woman’s intention and defend her child if need be. Her touch was inelegant but effective; Noni sensed enough to be distracted. Her eyes darted to Ana’s, and just as speedily dismissed her. Poppi had surrendered the babe.

Only a dolt would have done the child harm in his mother’s presence. Irfe’s Noni smiled and cooed, even chuckling when Reijo thrust a tiny hand from his wrapping as if in friendly salute. She offered a forefinger which the babe obligingly clasped. Analise stiffened. Luko had shown her how a Fire probe worked, teaching that physical contact took less effort and gleaned more accurate results. Noni sought something in the babe she cuddled; Analise felt a flooding warmth that narrowed like a tributary to a bright hot needle aimed at her son.

Reijo giggled, kicking gleefully. Whatever Noni’s gift revealed seemed to satisfy her, for her smile softened further. She nibbled the minute fingers clasping hers before she handed the babe to his mother. “I will name him at the new moon,” she declared grandly, bestowing a benevolent favour on this pitiful girl and her bastard child.

Analise remembered her manners. “Thank you, Noni.”

“He’ll no doubt be a worthy heir to the family business, Jarkko,” the old woman added, speaking as if Tero was absent or inconsequential—or both. Her meaning was plain on a deeper level: she had found no evidence to support Ana’s claim that Luko had fathered the child, therefore Reijo would be named neither shamir nor Irfe’s Heir, but would bear his mother’s name until … when?

Poppi was a master at playing the humble servant, though Noni was unlikely fooled. He tipped his head in gratitude, thanked the old woman once more for her kindness, then herded his family from her presence. 

* * *

The babe was named “Analise’s Reijo” on the new moon. As Poppi had predicted, the gift his mother knew he possessed went unaddressed by the one who should have recognized and embraced it on behalf of Irfe’s Children. The proud grandparents hosted the naming feast attended by friends, neighbours, associates and the like. None of Luko’s family came. Noni, who had stabbed his heel and tasted his blood and proclaimed him a Child of Light before invited guests, did not linger to celebrate the newcomer. When twilight dimmed and the last well-wisher had departed, Analise kissed her parents and her brother, then carried her pride and joy up to bed.

He had behaved beautifully throughout the day; she was sure his father had not been so congenial at his naming, but Reijo was a contented babe who showed every sign of being the most good-natured and accommodating member of the pack. Analise put him to her breast, but though he took her nipple in his mouth, he soon let it pop free.

She smiled into his eyes. Their colour had changed in the past few days, losing the milky sapphire hue to a sharper, clearer shade of blue-green. In a few weeks, they would lose the blue altogether and become eyes of the gifted, the green shamir eyes that spoke of elemental power granted for the betterment of all the tribe. He will be a good leader, she thought; a caring, compassionate ruler possessed of genuine warmth and deep loyalty to those in his charge. Noni’s plan to rouse Fire in Rikka was outrageous. A gift could not be planted in one born without it, and eventually Noni would be forced to accept what she presently refused to contemplate. In the meantime, little Reijo belonged solely to his adoring mother.

“What did she see when she looked behind your eyes?” she asked the child, who answered with a bored yawn.

“She did not see what she sought, little wolf. That may be what saved him.”

Analise glanced up, breaking into a grin. Poppi had made a habit of stopping by her room before retiring for the night—the man unable to grasp that his daughter was with child had fallen so deeply in love with that child that being parted from him was a trial. “What do you mean?” she asked.

“Simply that Noni is not the paragon of elemental expertise she expects us to believe,” Poppi replied. He drew near the bed, his eyes misty on his grandson’s face. “Magic is a mysterious thing, my girl. This little pup guards a trove of secrets we mortals may only guess at. Your mother says all babes are gifted, and she may be right—I dare not contradict her in such matters—but the gods know how to preserve their own. Reijo is destined to rule Irfeu once Noni is gone. Our duty is to keep him safe and teach him what you and I know best: that love is the most powerful gift of all.”

Analise swallowed rather than shed tears. Reijo spied his grandfather’s face above him and uttered a squeal that demanded action. Smiling, Poppi gently plucked the babe from his wrapping and set him on a shoulder, cupping the silvery head in one hand.

“Luko was not my son,” he said, gravely, “but this child is my grandson. I will not fail Reijo as I failed his father, I swear.”

“Yes, Poppi,” Analise whispered.

“Have you heard anything from him since the babe arrived?”

“No, Poppi. Not before, either.”

Poppi gave her a narrow look, but she held fast under scrutiny. Her resilience earned a tilted smile as he acquiesced to the fact that she may be lying; that she would do so straight-faced without a ripple did him proud. He kissed the babe, then returned him to his mother and kissed her, as well.

“Sleep well, my cubs.”

“I love you, Poppi.”

He quietly shut the door when he left. Analise tried again to have Reijo suckle; this time, he obliged. While he fed, his mother drew up her knees and cuddled him, reflecting on her father’s talk. His regret over Luko was sincere, just as his promise to protect Luko’s son was sincere, but Analise had perceived the unspoken point that preserving Reijo’s birthright would be easier without Luko present to rile the old woman at the citadel. Now Poppi was free to campaign for Reijo. The babe himself would be an asset, being neither golden nor raging. Noni’s pretence of fawning was less a strain on her; perhaps in time she could be convinced to take and teach the pup to succeed her. And then …

Ana drove the incomplete thought from her mind. She gazed on her silver pup and glimpsed vague signs of Luko in his budding features, the slanted eyes and dimpled smile, the proud nose and firm jaw. He might be Irfe’s chosen. He might be Poppi’s grandson. He might be the future of Irfe’s Children and the peak of her family’s ambition—but to his mother, to Jarkko’s Analise, he was the son of Irfe’s Luko, and she would fight to preserve that truth if it cost her last breath.

Bracing the babe in one arm, she climbed out of bed and carried him to the chest beneath the window. One-handed, she raised the lid and dug about until she found the thing she sought. Reijo squeaked on losing her nipple and threatened to voice greater displeasure when she stripped him of his gown. She smiled. He promptly abandoned his argument. A remarkable babe, to be so responsive so young. A miracle child, she thought, wrapping him in his father’s shirt. She hefted him once more, smiling broadly into his eyes. “You are Luko’s son,” she said, firmly.

Reijo gazed serenely into her face, and smiled.

THE END

December 28, 2008