3 Chapter 3 Life

The cold air invaded the bedroom through the open window. Brione, the Queen of Cashel, tightened her arms around herself in order to get warmer, while searching for a sheep fur's blanket. She then covered her beloved son, Randu, who was sleeping beside her.

She knew it would be just a matter of time for Lugus to come to her. No longer to subject her in bed, since he had not done so since what happened in the end of the war, three years ago, but to do something about the servant's discover that morning.

She looked at her son. Randu, the future King of Cashel, could be the hope of their massacred people. Would she have the strength needed to abandon him in order to guarantee Cashel the opportunity of being ruled by someone with a heart after so long? Since Lugus was crowned, the villages were subjected to high taxes and the abuse of the soldiers so that the King could lavish in parties full of orgies and wine and finance lost wars that could promote his name.

Lugus was getting old. He was becoming an old man with no honor. It was just a matter of time until he would try to provoke another war. His greatest dream was to be the absolute ruler of all the realms. With Atho's death, in an accident during his return to Bran, the path in front of the ambitious King seemed to be even more defined.

The door opened.

Brione didn't look up, too anguished, tightening her embrace even harder. The fear made her body shiver and a cold sweat was running down her back.

"Drink it, "he said, handing her a goblet.

It had been three months since he addressed her the last. Why was he treating her as if she was guilty for Iran's acts? He had been present in the moment of the attack and did nothing to assist her. His cowardice only made his wife despise him more.

"I won't drink it," she declined.

Randu opened his eyes. At the age of eight, he was already full aware of the kind of relationship his parents had. Sitting on the bed, the little boy got closer to the woman, fearing for her.

"Drink it!" he repeated, in a louder and more forceful tone. "Drink it, you slut!" he got annoyed.

The abortive herbs seemed to be bubbling in the water.

"You can't make me," she reacted. "The divine law of Cashel states that no woman can be forced to take off a son from her womb. The law protects me."

Lugus put the goblet down. She was right; he would not dare defying his God.

"No woman can be forced to take it off, but Cashel also states that no woman is obliged to keep the fruit of an abuse."

"That is for the woman to decide."

"You want to keep an unclean within your body? A redhead son? A white man?" he spat the words, in disgust.

"I don't care what color he will have," she answered, full of resolution. "I will not be a child murderer."

Lugus swallowed hard.

"Are you aware that, due to your decision, I can do nothing but reject you as my wife and banish you from the castle? Naked?"

All women from Cashel feared being rejected by their husbands. It seemed to be the most unworthy and terrible fate possible. Rejection meant not only getting a divorce, but also being despised by the society. Nevertheless, oddly, the idea brought Brione a certain relief.

"Yes, I am aware."

Lugus, however, seemed not to believe her.

"Are you out of your mind, woman?"

"I have never been more lucid."

"You are abandoning the throne for an unclean?"

Brione considered the word... Unclean. All the whites or the ones descended from them... That was how they were called in the kingdom. Unclean… His son would be an unclean in Cashel. What destiny could be worse for a child?

She faced the goblet. It was the child's salvation. Dying before being born would spare him from all the pain to come. The agony and misfortune that fate was preparing for him. Even so, she looked away. Cashel had allowed that life to grow inside her; no matter the color of his skin, she would never reject him.

"Randu," the sound of Lugus' voice took her away from her thoughts. "Say goodbye to your mother, she is leaving us."

The statement echoed inside her, hitting her like nothing so far. She avoided looking at her son, who she knew was the greatest victim. The person who would suffer the most by staying away from her.

The weight of her choice fell upon her delicate shoulders. Should she choose the eldest, who was still a child and was holding her with unsettling and wet eyes, or the unborn one, who she knew that already had a beating heart?

"I will not stay away from my mom," the boy answered in a high-pitched voice, hiding his face against her neck.

The religious law of Cashel was fair. She knew that no mother would be forced to leave a child. Nonetheless, taking him from the kingdom would rule him out of the future throne. How could she do such a thing?

"Randu," Lugus got exasperated. "I am your father and King. Your place is beside me."

"If my mother leaves, I leave with her," he warned him.

It was a childish blackmail. Lugus loved his son, but not more than his own pride.

"If you follow her, you will be disowned. You will be treated like a bastard and you will never set foot in the castle again. Is that what you want?

"I don't care about being a King," the boy answered. "I just want to be with my mom."

Suddenly, Brione understood one of the greatest truths in life. No power and no wealth in the world would ever be worthy more than the presence of a mother. She cried for hers when she was forced to leave her. In all those years in the castle, not even for a moment had she wished to be Queen. When her mother died, she couldn't mourn her because the kingdom was at war. She lost all her family when Lugus used her village as a shield against Masha's army. Now, was she considering abandoning her little son in the name of something that would never bring him happiness?

Not that living in her parents' old house in a devastated village could bring Randu any comfort. However, it was certainly better to lead a simple life full of love than endure the solitude of that castle, tainted by the cruelty of his King.

"You've heard my son, Your Majesty," she faced him. "Randu will depart with me because the fruit of a woman's womb belongs to her, much more than to any man in this world."

His cold look measured her. She noticed the rage in his eyes, forceful, revengeful.

"I will have another wife and many other children," he warned her. "And you will only have a bastard and an unclean child. I could never foresee a better fate for a whore who opened her legs to a redhead."

Then, he left the bedroom, shutting the door.

***

In the night when Queen Brione of Cashel was raped, dozens of women had also faced the same destiny. She never knew how many got pregnant with a redhead's child, but she understood she was the only one who refused to kill the baby when she saw there was no other rejected woman at the time she arrived in front of the castle.

The old priest of Cashel approached her. He seemed to measure her. His expression, although, showed no reactions. He was emotionless, as if he couldn't worry less about the closure of that story.

Dressed in a crimson mantle, her naked body beneath it feared the shame. However, she kept her chin up as if none of those many stares around her could beat her.

Countless people were present at the castle that day. All of them anxious and worried. There was pity in most of their eyes and accusation in others.

Brione knew she would have to cross the city naked, but the comforting thought that Randu was waiting for her in the end of the journey gave her strength. All he would be taking with him would be the clothes he was wearing and the necklace King Atho had given her, months before, in a promise he was now unable to fulfill.

"Woman," the priest called her aloud. "You have brought shame over your house and your husband," informed the man, as if she wasn't aware.

With the corner of her eyes, she observed Lugus. He seemed to be angry and she wished with all her strength he would die before getting married to another woman. Not out of jealousy, but out of anger.

Coward! It was his fault! It was entirely his fault! The war, the feast, the rape. If she could, she would kill him with her own hands.

"Now, this shame grows inside your womb. An unclean womb," the priest repeated the famous words, pronounced whenever such an occasion occurred. "A cursed womb," he proceeded. "Cashel the fairer and most compassionate God of the three kingdoms, however, can give you forgiveness if you show your regret by accepting to take off the creature that is now growing inside you. Take the tea and free your womb. Afterwards, if you are blessed by Cashel, you will be able to conceive again; and this time a child that will clean any dirt that might remain inside you."

Once again, she was offered the goblet.

"Comfort yourselves with any words you may wish. Anyone who offers this goblet to a woman and any woman who accepts it will have to respond for her acts before the divine justice," she affirmed. "There is no God in this world, not in Cashel, nor in Masha, nor in Bran, that would agree with such a cowardice against a child." She took a deep breath. "I will not drink it," she announced. "You can call my child unclean, I know that is what you will do, but he will grow and become a better man than any of you who wishes for him to die."

The goblet was taken away.

"I am so sorry, my sovereign," the priest mumbled on her ears.

Then, she felt the mantle being taken from her. She heard the soft gasps and shocked screams. However, she did nothing to cover her breasts or her sex. Let them look at it! Let them see what Lugus enjoyed for years and what Iran took against her will. Let them witness her nudity; she didn't care anymore. In firm and straight steps, she walked ahead, climbing down the stairs and passing through the men and women that were gathering in the crowd.

"You are not my lady anymore," she heard Lugus' voice. "You're no longer my Queen. I reject you!"

She stopped abruptly, turning her body back.

"These are the most beautiful words you have ever said to me, my King," she replied, turning ahead once again and following her path.

***

Randu looked down when he saw her mother coming. He felt ashamed for her and quickly handed her his mantle, to cover her nudity. She smiled at her son, sliding her hands over his beloved face and thanking him for his help.

"Are you sure of your choice, my love?" she asked him. "If you turn back now, your father will still take you."

"I can be just a child, but I know what I want, mother," he stated. "I will take care of you and of my little brother."

Tears rolled down her face.

"You would have become such a great King," she mumbled. "Now, all you will have is an old house and a land devastated by death and pain."

"And you," he smiled sweetly, showing his white teeth. "That's what matters to me the most.

Nodding, Brione held his hand and started walking. It would be a long way until her village. Fortunately, many villagers were fond of her and she would surely manage to find a place to eat and rest along the way.

Brione caressed her belly. It had been a very hard choice to make, but she was certainly very proud of it.