Courtly gasped, her hands flying to her mouth in shock and grief, and the tears began to flow with a vengeance. It was then, and only then, that Maximus snapped out of his trance and realized what he had done. He’d spoken before he really thought about what he was going to say. It just all came tumbling out, his common sense overwhelmed by the news of his mother’s passing. So much death. As a warrior, he was conditioned to accept death but not when it struck this close to home. He was simply having difficulty processing it.
“I am sorry, love,” he said, reaching out and grasping Courtly, his manner deeply apologetic. “I should not have been so blunt. I wanted to tell you in a much more gentle fashion… forgive me, please. I fear that news of my mother’s death hasupset my balance. I did not even realize what I was saying until it was too late.”
Courtly was sobbing deeply as Maximus tried to comfort her. “Auntie said he was going to do it,” she wept. “Damn the man for trying. Damn him for his foolishness. What did he think would happen if he failed? He tried to kill you but he was killed instead.”
Maximus didn’t know what to say to her. He was feeling particularly horrible at the moment, comforting his wife over the death of her father which, somehow, helped his own sense of grief. It distracted him by having someone else to worry about. Looking around the room, he could see Tiberius sitting by himself, weeping, and Gallus seated on a chair with Jeniver holding him tightly to her bosom. They were all stricken with sorrow, weeping for mothers and fathers, weeping for those they loved.
With a heavy heart, and struggling to remain strong for his wife, Maximus pulled her over to the table where Gallus was sitting. Setting her down carefully, he then went over to Tiberius and pulled the man up from the stairs and led him over to the table as well. Everyone was so terribly shattered, but in that crisis of grief and strife, Maximus was strangely level-headed, if only to be strong for Courtly.
Maximus stood between his wife and Tiberius, his hand on his brother’s shoulder and his other arm around his wife. He caught Jeniver’s eye as she looked up from Gallus, and he smiled weakly at the woman. All the while, words his mother had once spoken to him, words he had once relayed to Courtly, kept rolling through his mind. Now, more than ever, they seemed particularly appropriate.
“Do you remember what Mother would say when we expressed the fears for our father’s safety when he would ride off to battle?” he asked quietly. “Gal? Ty? Honey would say that wecannot know what will come at the day’s end but that whatever it is, it will indeed come, and then the end will be known. If we saw Father again at the end of that day, then we would smile and embrace him, but if not, then we would not dwell on his ending but on his parting well-made. What did we say to Honey the last time we spoke her? Do you recall?”
Gallus was wiping at his eyes, struggling to focus on Maximus’ question. It had been weeks since they’d last spoken to their mother, weeks since she had been coherent, so it was difficult to remember. As they struggled through the cobwebs of memories, Jeniver spoke.
“I recall one that of the last times we spoke, she spoke of Antoninus,” she said, her hands on her husband’s shoulders. “She told me that she had dreamed of him and that he looked the same as he did when he was young and strong, before age and his health caused him to deteriorate. She said that he stood at the gates of Isenhall but he would not come in. He simply stood there and smiled at her. She was rather perplexed at that but do you know what I think? I think he was waiting for her to come to him and she finally did. Certainly, her passing is a sorrowful thing, but we must not be sad for her. She is with Antoninus now and she is happy, so very happy. Should that thought not comfort us?”
Maximus was smiling knowingly by the time she was finished. He looked at Gallus and at Tiberius, seeing that their tears were mostly gone. They, too, were deeply comforted by Jeniver’s words because their parents, who had been quite devoted to one another, were now together for eternity.
“It comforts me a great deal to know that,” Maximus finally said. “She has missed my father every day since his death. Mayhap… mayhap instead of lamenting her death, we should be happy that they are finally together. At least, that is how I intend to view it. She is with him now and that is all that matters.”
Seated next to him, Courtly sniffled. “As my father is finally with my mother as well,” she said, wiping at her eyes. She looked up at Maximus. “That is how I will look at it as well. The man towards the end of his life was not the father I loved. He had changed somehow. But he, too, missed my mother very much. He never remarried, even after all of these years. They are together again and it is what he would want.”
Maximus bent down and kissed her on the top of the head, giving her a gentle squeeze to comfort her. “As I would want to be with you, too,” he murmured. Then, he glanced at the group around him, the table of people he loved best in the world. “But we are still here and we are still intact, and it is up to us to ensure that future generations of the House of de Shera have a country to inherit. Honey would have wanted it that way. That is why she told us to attend de Montfort, to be by the man’s side as he fights for a better England. I will honor what my mother wanted. With the last breath in my body, I will honor her wishes.”
Gallus and Tiberius would, too. As the brothers gathered to speak of returning to Isenhall, Courtly went to tell her aunt, still over in the shadows of the tavern, about Kellen’s demise. Ellice wasn’t particularly surprised to hear about it nor was she particularly grieved. The man who had caused her life’s misery was finally gone and, for the first time in her life, Ellice felt free. Free to live the life she always wanted to live without being under her brother’s controlling thumb. More than anything, news of Kellen’s death gave her relief.
Courtly watched as Ellice left the tavern, heading back to Kennington House with a lightness to her step that Courtly had never seen before. They were the steps of a woman who had been freed from resentment and anger. Courtly’s thoughts lingered on the woman, hoping that she would indeed find happiness. She wished her aunt, the woman who had made all things possible for her and Maximus, nothing less than the best. The oldspinster, that bitter, old shrew, had turned out to be a blessing in disguise.
But the real blessing in Courtly’s life was Maximus. As she turned towards the de Shera table, she caught sight of her enormous, proud husband as he stood next to Tiberius, his arm around the man’s shoulders, comforting his younger brother now that the news of their mother’s death had settled deep. Tiberius actually had a weak smile on his lips and even Maximus was smiling, listening to Gallus as the man spoke of things Courtly couldn’t quite hear. She observed the men a moment and she knew that, wherever Honey and Antoninus were, they were very proud of the mighty sons they had raised.
Glancing upward, to the heavens above, Courtly hoped that Honey and Antoninus de Shera were watching. Somehow, she knew they were, and perhaps somewhere close by, her own mother and father were looking down upon her. It was odd how she could feel their presence very strongly and with that presence came peace. Most definitely, she felt at peace, because standing before her were the Lords of Thunder, men who would help make England a fine place for future generations.
And her beloved Thunder Warrior who would pass into all things legend.
*THE END*
