as he looked at her.
He
had scarce turned his stare elsewhere since she entered the room.
While
he looked a great deal like her father, she could not see much resemblance to
herself in this man. The woman, though—Finna tried not to look at Surguilde for
she looked all too much like herself— and she bore the same name Aldar had always told her belonged to her mother.
Finna's
stomach flipped.
She
feared she might begin to believe the tale they spun if she looked upon the
woman overlong. If she thought too much about the similarities, the
possibilities … the answers to her newfound questions were perfectly visible
from the tip of Surguilde's head to her feet.
If
she were to believe this woman was truly her mother, then she had not only
inherited her height from her father, and somehow that knowledge made her feel
less ungainly in her tallness.
Could
it truly be that the mother she had so longed for had been here, not far, all
along?
Her
heart began to beg her mind to believe them.
"Has
Valdrik told you why he has brought you to us?" Jarl Hadarr asked.
Finna
nodded and looked up to the man. He appeared weak and his skin grayish. She remembered
the wounds she had inflicted upon him then. Finna blanched at the thought.
Could
Aldar have used her in his revenge?
The
very idea struck her gut like a battering ram.
"I
do not know what the truth is anymore," she murmured aloud. She caught herself
and glanced to the others. She tried to make sense of any of this, but there
were so many questions.
"Child,"
the woman said, kneeling before her.
Finna
sat back, startled and wary at the woman's nearness. Surguilde reached out to
cup Finna's face in her hands, tears brimming her dark lashes, so much like her
own. "Oh, Finna!" she cried, pulling Finna into her arms.
Finna
stiffened, unsure of what to do. She looked at Valdrik for assistance, but he
seemed not to notice.
"Surguilde,"
Hadarr said. "Do not smother our daughter. You are scaring the girl."
Surguilde
stepped back then, swiping away her tears. "I cannot help myself. I've not
seen her since she was but three months old."
"You
can wait a moment longer," Hadarr said. "First, I think we owe her an
explanation. Can you not see she does not believe us?"
Surguilde's
eyes hardened then. "Aldar has lied to you for too long," she spat.
"If we had known you lived we would have found a way to bring you home
sooner." Her sobs rattled her thin frame, and swiftly a girl Finna had
scarcely noticed came to wrap the woman in her arms, urging her to sit. Finna
looked between the two until Hadarr reached out and touched her arm.
"Your
sister Geera," he said, indicating the younger woman.
Finna
regarded the honey-haired girl with surprise.
"You, too , are my daughter," he said,
reaching for her, placing his other hand to his heart. His eyes turned
pleading. "Whether you believe me now or not, 'tis the gods’ truth.
Methinks with time you will reconcile yourself with the facts. When you are
ready, I shall like very much to tell you what happened."
Finna
took a moment to look him over, to look the whole lot of them over. She only
found sincerity. " If what you
say is true, how could Aldar have kept his ruse for so long? And why?" she
asked.
"Through
hate," Surguilde said bitterly, her face coming off the other woman's
shoulder. She only started sobbing again when she looked at Finna. "I can
only imagine what you have endured at his uncouth hands."
Geera
cradled the woman back to her, her eyes lingering on the bruises on Finna's
face and the cut on her lip. A look of sympathy clouded her expression.
"Enough
talk of my brother for now," Hadarr said, pressing himself upward from his
seat, grunting with his effort. He winced as he came to his full height.
Finna
cringed. She had caused his pain. And apparently she had caused him pain for a
good number of years.
He
lifted his hands to silence the room, and all eyes focused on their Jarl.
Warriors and thralls alike stopped to
He
had scarce turned his stare elsewhere since she entered the room.
While
he looked a great deal like her father, she could not see much resemblance to
herself in this man. The woman, though—Finna tried not to look at Surguilde for
she looked all too much like herself— and she bore the same name Aldar had always told her belonged to her mother.
Finna's
stomach flipped.
She
feared she might begin to believe the tale they spun if she looked upon the
woman overlong. If she thought too much about the similarities, the
possibilities … the answers to her newfound questions were perfectly visible
from the tip of Surguilde's head to her feet.
If
she were to believe this woman was truly her mother, then she had not only
inherited her height from her father, and somehow that knowledge made her feel
less ungainly in her tallness.
Could
it truly be that the mother she had so longed for had been here, not far, all
along?
Her
heart began to beg her mind to believe them.
"Has
Valdrik told you why he has brought you to us?" Jarl Hadarr asked.
Finna
nodded and looked up to the man. He appeared weak and his skin grayish. She remembered
the wounds she had inflicted upon him then. Finna blanched at the thought.
Could
Aldar have used her in his revenge?
The
very idea struck her gut like a battering ram.
"I
do not know what the truth is anymore," she murmured aloud. She caught herself
and glanced to the others. She tried to make sense of any of this, but there
were so many questions.
"Child,"
the woman said, kneeling before her.
Finna
sat back, startled and wary at the woman's nearness. Surguilde reached out to
cup Finna's face in her hands, tears brimming her dark lashes, so much like her
own. "Oh, Finna!" she cried, pulling Finna into her arms.
Finna
stiffened, unsure of what to do. She looked at Valdrik for assistance, but he
seemed not to notice.
"Surguilde,"
Hadarr said. "Do not smother our daughter. You are scaring the girl."
Surguilde
stepped back then, swiping away her tears. "I cannot help myself. I've not
seen her since she was but three months old."
"You
can wait a moment longer," Hadarr said. "First, I think we owe her an
explanation. Can you not see she does not believe us?"
Surguilde's
eyes hardened then. "Aldar has lied to you for too long," she spat.
"If we had known you lived we would have found a way to bring you home
sooner." Her sobs rattled her thin frame, and swiftly a girl Finna had
scarcely noticed came to wrap the woman in her arms, urging her to sit. Finna
looked between the two until Hadarr reached out and touched her arm.
"Your
sister Geera," he said, indicating the younger woman.
Finna
regarded the honey-haired girl with surprise.
"You, too , are my daughter," he said,
reaching for her, placing his other hand to his heart. His eyes turned
pleading. "Whether you believe me now or not, 'tis the gods’ truth.
Methinks with time you will reconcile yourself with the facts. When you are
ready, I shall like very much to tell you what happened."
Finna
took a moment to look him over, to look the whole lot of them over. She only
found sincerity. " If what you
say is true, how could Aldar have kept his ruse for so long? And why?" she
asked.
"Through
hate," Surguilde said bitterly, her face coming off the other woman's
shoulder. She only started sobbing again when she looked at Finna. "I can
only imagine what you have endured at his uncouth hands."
Geera
cradled the woman back to her, her eyes lingering on the bruises on Finna's
face and the cut on her lip. A look of sympathy clouded her expression.
"Enough
talk of my brother for now," Hadarr said, pressing himself upward from his
seat, grunting with his effort. He winced as he came to his full height.
Finna
cringed. She had caused his pain. And apparently she had caused him pain for a
good number of years.
He
lifted his hands to silence the room, and all eyes focused on their Jarl.
Warriors and thralls alike stopped to
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