You will come to me in the spring
Again, before I could reply or even think of a reply, I woke up, propped against a tree trunk along the road to Rose Court. Shaking the dead leaves that had fallen onto me from my cloak, I continued on my way. I was still leagues away from Rose Court, and the grey skies and chill winds of late autumn were not helping things, except maybe to hasten my pace just that much more.
Rowan never changes, though the times do. She greeted me warmly, wanting to hear the news and tales that the roads provided, and I was more than happy to comply with my old friend and patron. That evening I performed for those in attendance (not my best work -- I needed to shake off a little rust, and I hadn't performed True Thomas in months), but it seemed to be well received. There was no glimmers of recognition or some such, though I doubted anyone would have had a similar experience as I. I greeted those who were familiar to me, and met a few who were not, using my standard "charming bard" approach. A chambermaid named Justine was more than eager to fill me in on the gossip of the day, for many days running.
True Thomas lay oer yond grassy bank, And he beheld a ladie gay, A lady that was brisk and bold, Come riding over the fernie brae. Her skirt was of the grass-green silk, Her mantle of the velvet fine, At ilka tett of her horse's mane Hung fifty silver bells and nine...
I took the resources of the castle's library to task, finding variants on the tale of True Thomas. The basic story, that he was forced to perform for the fae for seven years, unable to speak otherwise -- is pretty consistent. What happens after that is where things are cloudy. Some of the stories indicate Thomas gained seer-sight; other are more literal -- that he could only tell the truth. I left the room and sighed. While such ability would be interesting, I think I'd rather walk the difficult road -- the path of thorns, if you would.
Some time after that, when the incident was near-forgotten, Rowan approached me, curiosity piqued. We began talking about my upbringing -- I knew of my bastardly background but little else. Haltingly, Rowan began telling of the Lady Vespera dur Harth, who had also come to Rose Court for the winter to come. It may have very well been possible that she could have played a role in my being parceled out to the countryside. I wasn't quite sure what I wanted to do with this, but Rowan gently pushed towards finding out. I was also not quite sure of what to make of the look on her face -- almost a hunger for me to find out.
I arranged to perform for the Lady in her quarters, and after so, brought forth the difficult information that I'd been given. She broke down after some time, and agreed that it was very much likely that I was her son. The circumstances were of the time before Korbin was High King, when Korbin was the master-at-arms for Lord Harth. Apparently Korbin returned from the front lines at the behest of his son Merlin, and they together disappeared for some time, returning with another man, Carrick, who was Korbin's brother. While they recovered from whatever quest they had been on, Carrick had seduced her. The resulting child was... well, I'm sure the rest can be figured out. I tried to comfort her as best I could, but I found my mind wandering though the various possibilities at what this information may have provided. Vespera seemed to need just my presence and understanding, and she pulled herself together after a short while. I was not sure what more to say at that point; probably best to keep her out of my future plans for now. I bade her good night and returned to my rooms to think.
So, in the span of weeks, questions unanswered for forty years suddenly seem to have an answer -- only after a long road of questions yet to come. And I feel ready to wander that road, like so many roads before this one. Mayhaps it possible that this Carrick, Korbin's brother, is my father? Where does that put me in the scheme of things? Is this why Rowan was so insistent on me finding out? Most importantly, after forty years alone, should I even care? The man Carrick was said to have a dark complexion, blue eyes, and had a mustache -- little other than circumstance binds me to him. What happened to him after that liason? I currently know of no public recognition of this man by Korbin, but I believe the answers will lead me to the seat of the Darkling Realms. I'm sure Rowan will had much to say about my ruminations, as well as some of her own.
This is the stuff songs are made of.
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