Of Law and Mercy
Chapter 10 Law & Order (By Law and Flame)
Previously: As dusk falls, Balgair finishes his duties and prepares to bring Matthew, the lost child, home with his bonded bhanna—Amelie and Nell. Both women have grown attached to the boy, and though they hope to find his mother, they cherish caring for him. Delilah, the scribe, confirms no news of the mother, but offers warmth and support, revealing her own buried grief. Balgair comforts her, affirming her budding relationship with Ben. The household embraces Matthew, with Heather giving him a bath and bonding with him through gentle care. As they settle into their estate, Balgair shares a quiet prayer for a family of their own, which Ananke hears and answers. Later, in private, Balgair asks Amelie and Nell if they’ll be all right letting Matthew go if his mother is found. Their bittersweet honesty leads to a reaffirmation of love, future children, and the healing strength of chosen family.
Balgair yawned, trying to stretch, only to remember that Amelie and Nell were curled up beside him. As carefully as he could, he managed to free his arms from his bhanna, then softly brushed the mop of red hair away from a delicately pointed ear. “Dinner’s ready, Mel.”
His ciad-ghin beauty blinked her eyes and languidly stretched. “I’m not hungry, bear. Is it okay if I go and wait for you in bed?” The tip of her ear twitched at his breath.
“It’s fine, love,” he whispered, “I’ll be up shortly.” His fingers lovingly brushed through her fiery hair, drawing a tender smile from her.
When he looked the other way to check on Nell, the raven-haired beauty was already on her feet. “Unlike Mel, I’m hungry.” She linked her arm with his. “Let’s go eat.”
Amelie stuck her tongue out at her bond-sister, then turned her pouty lips to Balgair. “Don’t keep me waiting too long, Bear. I might go to sleep on you.”
“Goddess forbid,” he feigned a shudder. “We wouldn’t want that.” He winked at Amelie as he escorted Nell out the door.
“Where, Mel?” Matthew asked when Balgair and Nell took their places at the table. The boy looked squeaky clean, and his hair was brushed back. Heather had changed into a cotton blouse/skirt outfit and was carefully sitting out of Matthew’s way.
“What happened to you?” Nell inquired, a mischievous smile on her face.
Heather chuckled as she flicked her hair over her shoulder. “The young gentleman likes to splash in the tub. He tried to drown me.” Despite how she was acting, she wasn’t really mad at the child, who was grinning happily as he stuffed some bread in his mouth and smacked his lips.
Nell quirked a brow. “Surely not.” She smiled at Matthew, eliciting a giggle. “He was such a perfect gentleman at the office.”
The blonde rolled her eyes. “There wasn’t a big tub of water at the office,” she said, ruffling Matthew’s hair.
Balgair eyed the child, wondering how much food he could store in his cheeks. With a shake of his head, he filled his plate and settled in to eat.
“Where is it?” Elsie asked as she frantically dug through her bag, looking for her most treasured possession, a book that her husband had given her when they married. “Oh no. no, no, no,” she muttered as she didn’t find it. Her eyes searched around for Leorcan and her daughter. She found him leaning against the cavern wall, looking distraught, and her daughter was in the center of the cave with the rest of the young. She hated seeing her husband look that way and didn’t want to bother him, so she walked over to her daughter and set her bag down. “Will you watch this for me?” When her daughter nodded, she made her way over to Leorcan and kissed his cheek. “I need to go out and relieve myself. I’ll be back in a bit.”
Leorcan nodded. “Be careful, hon. Stay close and don’t fall.”
After kissing him on the cheek, Elsie gathered her cloak around her and slipped out of the cave. Once she had walked far enough that she couldn’t see the entrance, she started making her way back down to the canyon floor. Furtive as a mouse, she crept back into the makeshift village, ducking into the short alleys to avoid the few soldiers wandering through the abandoned town.
No matter how quietly she crept, she had no way of escaping the notice of the scouts that were investigating the community. Each of the men and women carefully watched her, marking her passing with night bird calls, Cu barks, hawk shrills, and other nature noises as she approached her house and snuck in through the back door.
Her eyes swept each small room as she hurridly passed through them until she reached the living room, where the hearth was still banked, but embers glowed. Not finding what she was looking for, she raised a hand to wipe a tear from her eyes and froze like a mouse when a voice from the shadowed corner inquired. “Are you looking for this?”
All color fled her face as she shakily stood there, caught in her own house by the strangers. “Please, don’t hurt me.” She panted. “I’m just trying to find …”
Light flared behind her, probably from a previously hooded lantern, throwing her shadow against the hearth. “Your family's memory book,” the voice stated, as if fact. She heard pages being carefully turned and almost fainted as the man behind her said her name. “Elsie de Havred?”
Her shaking intensified as she closed her eyes in fear, praying that she wouldn’t embarrass herself or Leorcan by passing out and soiling herself. “Yes, sir,” she gasped as she slowly turned and looked up into the face of her captor.
The man holding her book was about the same height as her husband but bore the signs of being an outdoorsman. His skin was darkly tanned, his hair light brown, and his features rugged. It was his eyes that scared her most. Hazel with silver flecks that caught the light. He took a minute to look her up and down.
Elsie’s heart threatened to burst from her chest. She had the feeling that if she even tried to move, he’d strike like a snake. She had never felt so much like a frightened mouse as she did at that moment. Suddenly, all she wanted was Leorcan standing behind her. “Please,” she whispered, “don’t hurt me.”
The look on her captor’s face surprised her. First shock, then disgust, then resignation. “Forgive me, Lady de Havred.” He took a step back and gestured to the table he’d been sitting at, her cherished cherry wood table. “I didn’t mean to scare you.” When her hooded expression showed great distrust, he sank back into the chair that Leorcan usually occupied. “I would like to speak, if we may.” He swept his hand toward her chair, which he had not moved from its place. “Would you please join me?”
Sitting, he looked less like a viper and more like a moor cat, and she reminded herself that moor cats were just as dangerous. Feigning bravery she didn’t feel, she cautiously joined him at the table. “Who are you, and why are you here?” Her lips were still pale, and she still felt her heart fluttering in her chest.
Ben had been apprised of this woman’s every move since they discovered her sneaking down from one of the caves and wondered what was so important that it brought her into danger. He had been curiously paging through the book on the table as she snuck down the alley and then through the small backyard. He had shuttered his lantern as she had quietly fumbled with the back door and sneaked inside. He listened as she padded through the rooms and slowly made her way to this one. If he hadn’t been an accomplished ranger, she would have escaped notice, her footsteps had been that light.
When he confronted her, he had expected her to scream and faint, not stand there like a shaking dormouse. He admired her bravery as she turned and looked up at him, despite the fear in her brown eyes.
For a moment, he was lost as he looked into her eyes, then he drew a breath, shaking his head. “Forgive me, please.” He took a second to gather his thoughts. “My name is Ben Fada-Siubhalair.”
Elsie blinked as he named himself. Her pulse slowed as she examined him, quickly noticing the way his cloak shifted patterns, as if trying to decide to play to the fire or the shadows. His uniform looked new, though his boots looked old and well worn. Her eyes cut to the hat sitting on her table. It was new but was creased as if by familiarity. “You’re a ranger?”
“I am, and also a Deputy to the Sheriff of Eola.” He watched her expression flicker from hooded to frightened to despair.
“Are you going to chase us out?” Elsie asked, looking down at the table. She felt crushed and defeated. They had come so close to having a home. She couldn’t help but sob softly.
“Why would we do that?” another voice asked. Elsie was so worn out that she couldn’t even lift her head to see who was behind her.
“It’s what you always do.” She soullessly replied. “We find land, build a life, and the law comes and chases us away.” There were tears in her eyes as she looked up at Ben.
Faced with a woman who was so close to giving up on life, Ben ran his hand down the side of his face and glanced up at his friend.
“You may not believe us, but we aren’t here to chase you away.” The man behind her commented.
Elsie finally gathered the strength to lift her head and look over her shoulder at the man in the doorway. He was dressed like the Ranger, except he wore a strange-looking duster. His black hair was pulled back in a queue, and his eyes were careworn black.
At her quirked brow, he smiled warmly, “Since Deputy Fada-Siubhalair seems to have forgotten, my name is Methak Telumë Mírya Nandëo, and I, too, am a Deputy to the Sheriff of Eola.” He sketched a half-bow.
“You’re correct,” she commented, flatly distrustful. “I don’t believe you.” She took a slow, ragged breath. “Let me return to my husband, and we’ll all pack up and leave.”
“Ma’am,” Methak sighed, “is your husband up the caves?”
Distrust turned to true fear. “Please, don’t kill him or my daughter.” She drew in on herself, tears openly tracking down her face. “I promise we’ll leave; please don’t hurt us.”
Methak’s eyes held concern as he gently tested her emotional state with the barest sliver of prana. “We don’t want to hurt anyone. We only want to talk.” He took a step to the side, giving her some room in case she tried to run away.
“If we delivered a note, would your husband come down and talk to us?” Ben asked, having deduced that she was truly afraid for her life.
Elsie’s fear ratcheted up, and she pushed the chair back as she tried to stand, only to fall to her knees. “Please, no,” she groveled at the Deputy’s feet. “Do whatever you want to me. Don’t hurt my family.” She clutched his ankles as she sobbed uncontrollably.
“By Mixcoatl, I don’t want to hurt your family,” Ben stated, again, as he looked down. He very carefully kept his weapons away from this woman because he had the fear she’d kill herself rather than betray her family.
“Maybe the first dreamer isn’t who we should be invoking,” Methak commented, taking inventory of the kitchen around them. Everything was lovingly put in place, from the crossed maize stalks over the doorway to the neatly stacked pans and pots on a shelf. A child’s drawing of a fiery salamander caught his eye. “Perhaps we should be promising to the Hearth-Mother that we won’t hurt her or her family?”
“Don’t dare invoke her name in jest,” Elsie whispered cautiously. “She’ll flay you if you are lying.”
“How well I know,” Methak replied as he looked around for something. “Where is your offering bowl?”
Ben felt Elsie’s fear dissipate as she shifted and looked up at Methak from under her hair. “I won’t tell you.” She lifted her head in defiance.
The archer raised a brow. “Why not?”. He asked, curiously watching her eyes. Now that she was facing something she believed in, she was watching him like a hawk.
“I won’t let you desecrate our offerings and bring a curse on our house,” she bit her lower lip as she watched him.
“I understand,” Methak nodded. “Will you give me leave to go gather something from my pack?”
He had her attention, and she shifted to her knees and her back straightened as she cautiously watched him, the man at the table forgotten for the moment. When she gave a slight nod, Methak slipped through the doorway, returning with a copper bowl in his hand.
Elsie watched him closely as he opened one of his pouches, withdrew several items, and put them in the bowl. Among them, she saw a red chili pepper, five corn kernels, three cacao beans, a small sliver of jade, and five marigold petals. She nodded as he placed the bowl on the hearth and looked around.
“There are candles on the shelf behind you,” she said, not getting up to retrieve them for him. She was determined for him to succeed or fail on his own.
“Tapadh leibh,” came the formal tone as he rose to gather the candles.
“You carry prayer items, but not candles?”
Methak shook his head. “They don’t carry well in packs; they get wet, and they fall apart. The Hearth-Mother knows, and I hope she understands.” He explained as he returned to the bowl and placed the candles around it. After burning a bit of copal resin to clear the space, he lit the candles and solemnly prayed, “Chantico, Lady of the Hearth and Sacred Flame, Keeper of warmth, protector of home and treasures, I call upon your blazing light to bless this space, to guard it from harm and bring abundance within.”
The flames from the candles swirled around the bowl, caressing the offerings, without setting them afire. “Fire of life, spirit of passion, burn away all that is stagnant and cold, let this hearth be filled with your power, And my soul with your strength. I offer you gifts of fire and earth, Gold and maize, cacao and spice. Accept these humble tokens of honor, and may your presence forever burn bright in this home."
Elsie watched the ceremony, her eyes widening as the bowl floated on the flames and the smell of cooked tortillas wafted around the kitchen.
“Who are you?” she asked in disbelief as the bowl vanished from sight. When the archer opened his mouth, she cut him off with a slash of her hand, her fear forgotten, replaced by awe. “No, not your name or your job. Who are you that the gods answer so freely?”
“We are free men of Na Raointean Mòra.”
At Methak’s solemn reply, Elsie gasped. “We made it. Are we truly free?” She turned suddenly hopeful eyes on Ben.
“It appears that you have indeed made it,” the Deputy affirmed. “You are free.”
Tears of joy replaced tears of despair as Elsie heaved thankful breaths of air. “Yes,” she whispered, “My husband is in the cave. May I go get him?” She looked up at Ben.
“It would be quicker if we sent a note.” The deputy commented. “If we sent one up, would he come down?”
“Yes, he would,” Elsie said, giddy with happiness. “I have so much to do before he gets here.” She raced into another room, returning with a folded piece of paper. “He won’t believe it. They won’t believe it.”
Ben handed the note to Methak, who nodded and slipped out of the house while Ben watched Elsie dance around the kitchen.
Loercan sat near the cave entrance, his head in his hands, wishing that just once they could find peace and settle down. He was so lost in his own thoughts that he didn’t notice it when the old priest hobbled to the entrance and looked down upon the town.
It wasn’t until one of the hearth-maidens scurried to the entrance and joined the priest that he looked up.
The young woman bounced on her toes as she peered down. “We need to go.”
“Wait, you can’t,” Leorcan said, surging to his feet. “It may not be safe.” He looked around the cave in panic, not finding Elsie anywhere. “Oh no,” he whispered.
The old priest turned his eyes to Leorcan. “She is right. We need to go down there.”
“But why?” the erstwhile leader was at a loss for words. “What if they kill you?”
The priest turned his attention back to the scene below. “Leorcan, we must go. The Hearth-Mother has answered someone’s prayer.”
The hearth-maiden looked like she wanted to jump from the edge. “She did, and it wasn’t one of her followers that performed the ceremony,” she giggled, poking the old priest. “It was one of yours.” She turned her pleading eyes to Leorcan. “Please let us go.”
Leorcan was torn. He didn’t want anyone to hurt the priest and hearth-maiden, but he was worried about what had become of his wife. Before he could answer, a figure appeared out of the darkness and called out.
“Ho, the cave. Is Leorcan de Havred inside?”
Upon hearing that, his heart broke, and he stared out in despair. All he could think was that the law had captured Elsie and was holding her hostage.
Hearing Leorcan’s name called out stilled everyone in the cave and they turned as one, watching him. His daughter looked around, grabbed the pack at her feet, and ran to her father. “Where is mother? I can’t find her.”
Bleakness shuddered Leo’s heart at those words, and he gathered his daughter to his side. “She went out and and …” He couldn’t finish the sentence.
“Oh, mother,” the young woman gasped fearfully. “What are we going to do?”
His whole world crashed down around him, filling him with darkness. He wasn’t sure he could go on without Elsie. “I’m going to surrender myself and see if I can get her back.”
His pained whisper shocked his daughter, who cried. “Can I go with you?”
“No,” he hugged her tight. “It’s me they want. I’ll go alone.”
The priest rubbed the medallion with two fingers. “No, you won’t. I’m going as well.” When Leorcan stared at him, he calmly continued. “You can’t stop me, Leo.” He reached out and squeezed Leorcan’s shoulder. “The Hearth-mother answered a prayer. I must know why.”
“If he’s going, I’m going too,” the hearth-maiden stated, almost beside herself with excitement.
Unable to find a reason to stop then, Leo shrugged. “Fine. Let’s see what this lawman wants.” With a silent prayer, he turned and made his way out onto the pathway. “I’m Leorcan de Havred.” He held up his hands. “I surrender. Please don’t hurt anyone else. I’ll go peacefully.”
Methak stepped into the light and examined the people before him. “By Mixcoatl, what have they done to you?” He didn’t know what he had expected, but it wasn’t this. It wasn’t people broken in spirit and soul. “There’s no need to surrender, sir.” He held out the note in his hand. “Your wife sent this.”
Leorcan stared mutely at the archer, taking in his uniform, and took the note. “If you’ve hurt my wife, I’ll kill you.”
“I’d expect nothing else,” Methak replied as he watched the man before him read the note.
Leorcan read the note, blinked, shook his head, and reread it. “Which one are you?” He looked up at the archer, a mixture of wonder and surprise in his eyes.
“Methak Telumë Mírya Nandëo, Deputy to the Sheriff of Eola.”
Leorcan simply stared at him for a few minutes, the shock wearing off. “We will come with you.” Hearing the hushed whispers behind him, he amended, “We are all coming with you.” When Methak nodded, Leo glanced over at the old priest, who was staring at the ranger.
Feeling the eyes upon him, Methak shifted his feet and faced the old priest. He waited patiently as the old man examined him.
“You are one of us, are you not?” He inquired, indicating the long bow, arrows, cloak, and medallion hanging around the archer’s neck.
“I am, grandfather,” Methak calmly replied. “I follow the First Dreamer as he chases the great Swan.”
The old priest took a deep breath. “Yet, you prayed to Chantico, did you not?” He wasn’t accusing Mehtak of wrongdoing.
“I did, grandfather,” Methak’s humble reply came as a surprise to everyone except the hearth-maiden, who was giggling softly.
“Why did you pray to her, rather than Mixcoatl?” Another curious question, almost as if he were trying to teach the people around him a lesson. One that they didn’t want to hear.
Methak calmly looked from the old priest to the people gathered around, then back to the old priest. “Because the Lady de Havred is not a follower of the First Dreamer, and she wouldn’t believe our claims until I sought guidance from the Hearth Mother.”
The priest nodded as if he had expected nothing less, but he reached out and poked Methak in the chest. “Do you pray to the other gods as well?”
Methak quirked a brow at the poke and searched the old priest’s eyes for a reason why. He closed his eyes, gave a dramatic pause, and answered the question with, “Yes, Grandfather. Shouldn’t all free men know how to pray to the gods when seeking guidance? Isn’t it best to know what pleases the Guardian or The Feathered Serpent? Shouldn’t men know what pleases Our Lady of Chains or She who sees the future in smoke or even she who brings light to the night?”
There were murmurings as he referenced each of the gods worshipped. He gave them a few minutes to whisper as he looked back to the old priest, who answered, “Yes, yes, each person should know what pleases the gods.” Reaching out, the old priest snagged Methak’s elbow. “Would you help an old man down the hill, my son?”
“I would be honored, grandfather,” Methak replied as he turned and started down toward the village. He was immediately followed by the giggling hearth-maiden, Leorcan, and his daughter.
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