Chapter 14 - Hen Wlad fy Nhadau

Chapter 14 -  Hen Wlad fy Nhadau
            --Land of My Fathers
                         . . . .
.:The Sidhe, the Shining Folk, the tall pale people, proud ladies and stern warriors all unearthly fair, whose hidden palaces shimmered on the high places where no mortal dared to step, the windy fells and bare uplands and the hollow mountain side--
  Most...were of the opinion that the Shining Folk, whatever their origin, were indeed gods, for who knew how long it was given to a god to live?
  There were even tales that some of the old families had sprung from these divine progenitors: a goddess who had loved a warrior, or a lord of the Sidhe who had wedded a Keltic princess. Only the Ban-draoi and the Druids, if anyone, knew the truth of those tales. But no one who had seen Aeron Aoibhell call in her power, or Gwydion ap Arawn at full stretch as sorcerer, had any doubts whatever that there were yet children of Don and Dana alive in the light of day.:
--Patricia Kennealy Morrison
--The Copper Crown
                           * * * *
"One hears in the old poems of men taken away to help the gods in a battle, and Cuchulain won the goddess Fand for a while, by helping her married sister and her sister's husband to overthrow another nation of the Land of Promise.
I have been told, too, that the people of Faery cannot even play at hurley unless they have on either side some mortal, whose body--or whatever has been put in its place, as the story-teller would say--is asleep at home. Without mortal  help they are shadowy, and cannot even strike the balls...'
W.B. Yeats
'Mortal Help' from 'Mythologies'
   
                           * * * *
TATANIA: And I will purge thy mortal grossness so
         That thou shalt like an airy spirit go
Shakespeare's 'A Midsummer Night's Dream'
                         . . . .
Emlyn awoke rather late, and alone. But never lonely.
She felt that the day was well underway, and, indeed, as she arose and opened the drapes and blinds, she saw the storm had at last passed, leaving a trail of broken and strewn limbs about the grounds, in a brilliant blaze of bright sunshine. She blinked at this and pulled the blind back down, shading her eyes. The day rather required tea before it would stand beholding.
As Em dressed, she felt well-rested, not recalling any dreams, but a residual feeling of well-being clung to her psyche from the night before... She felt ready anew for the day's challenges ahead. As there were sure to be...
                            . . . .
Having found remains of breakfast in the kitchen: corn muffins, (of course, knowing Jack, she thought),
honey, yogurt, apples, and Earl Grey, hot, Em happily availed herself of these.. Perfect. The sink showed evidence of some sortof fry-up of the men's, but Em was not up for such and an apple and muffin suited her well...
Taking her tea to the door, she opened it warily and cast half an eye about, to find the others gathered about upon the porch, Jack with mandolin in hand, strumming softly.
 '"Come now a roundel and a fairy song!"' Em proclaimed to the company and the morning. She strode within their midst and, leaning over, planted a soft kiss upon Jack's head, with a hand upon his shoulder.
Jack smiled and leaned his head against her hand a moment, '"I have a reasonable good ear in music. Let's have the tongs and bones,"' said he, quoting Bottom, and was off upon a reel. Em took a seat in the wicker chair next to him.
'Ah, here is our Tatania, well-rested! No swift dragons of black-browed night disturbed your dreams, I trust?' Daryl joined in with the Midsummer Night's quotation infestation.
'None that I recall. I see evidence of their passing all about though!' Emlyn nodded at the ruin of the grounds about them. 'Where is Athena?' She recalled suddenly her
absent elder bibliophilic sister.
'She repaired back to the gatehouse earlier...wanted to be sure it stood undamaged,' Daryl eyed her. 'It was fine I'm sure. Extra, ah, precautions are set about the buildings here, they remain quite infrangible. Although the flora and fauna,' he nodded at the ravaged greenery strewn about, 'are still rather susceptible to natural elements.'
'"They have sown the wind, they shall reap the whirlwind,"' Em commented.
Jack and Daryl caught one another's eyes briefly. 'We shall see,' Daryl seemed thoughtful.
'And, Mr. Yeats...?' Em enquired, looking down into her tea as she stirred the honey within.
'Unknown,' Aleister supplied. 'But, that is quite usual, with him.'
'"Cynara, gone with the wind,"'Daryl smiled into his cup as he sipped.
Al snorted, lighting a cigarillo. With a match.
All sat companionably enjoying the peaceful morning after the storm's onslaught, as well as respite from the previous evening's cerebral contusions. The shadow of such lurked about them however, like "the iron tongue of midnight"...
Emlyn couldn't help thinking now, over and again, of all the glaring truths that had been brought to light in last evening's dim candleglow...
She attempted a hesitant test of these murky waters, '...Mr. Yeats...seemed rather, ah...disturbed by much that was said last night.'
Al puffed with a slight frown, but looked off into the foliage matted with stray limbs and leaves not their own, saying nothing. He'd learned to remain on the sidelines of these forays into the depths. If things got out of hand, he could usually swoop in and out quickly, rendering all  noncombatant who were asking for it swiftly enough, with a well-placed syringe...
Daryl, however, was not so outwardly nonchalant. 'Ah, no.
Yeats has...his own view of things,' he sighed softly, 'rather at odds with reality, but...' he let his thought trail off into the morning breeze.
Emlyn still had some questions however. 'I was rather too tired last night to give much thought to all that was revealed, but...now I find there is much that should be clarified...'
Jack interrupted his playing and began to re-tune his instrument. 'I don't know, if now is the time...'
'Jack, you're sounding like Yeats!' Em tried to tease him lightly, hoping that he'd not shut out certain truths that should be addressed, in her opinion. 'These are matters upon which I have long pondered!' She put a gentle hand on his arm, then pointed a finger at Daryl, 'You still have not told us how you came by Nob Hill House...in all it's new-found infamy!'
Daryl raised one eyebrow her way, pursing his lips. 'Well.
Alright, I suppose some things are best disclosed in light of day. It's simply this, Em: the house happened to be one of the places to which I believed Dr. Stein, Frank, might return, someday, if he could. That, and this,' He looked about him, indicating the property. 'It...remains, a sortof portal, or gateway, into other dimensions, one might say.   'One needn't worry about falling down a rabbit-hole there, and Frank is returned to us safely anyhow, so, truly, nena, you must not trouble yourself: the house, as it is, is simply that, a dwelling place.'
Hm, thought Em. A dwelling place for what sort? But she kept her own counsel there. Alright, next question: 'You mentioned that my mother was taken from the Pages, and kept during her confinement by Axelis?'
Daryl nodded.
'...And I was born, among his people, you stated. Who are they, Daryl, and where are they?' Em hoped above hope that Daryl would deign to answer this time. Before, her queries had gone unsatisfied, barely acknowledged.
Daryl clasped his hands before him, as he would when he was getting a grip on things, Em noted. '...And then, there are things perhaps better discussed when the blazing skyball glares not so brilliantly...' Daryl then stood. 'We'll take our leave rather later today, Jack, if that's well enough with you.'
'Excuse me!?' Emlyn demanded a voice.
'I beg your pardon, Em,' Daryl shifted a slight bow her way, 'I will be leaving tonight. You, of course, are welcome to accompany me, or remain here.'
'Yes, yes, of course!' Jack looked up, as if he'd just awoke. 'But, Em, and Daryl, I rather do wish you would stay on awhile longer...'
'I cannot,' Daryl was adamant. 'La Revolucion waits for no hombre...and I've been AWOL so long they'll think me MIA soon. But, with your permission, I will conjure up dinner tonight, before I take my leave...'
All thought that would be most agreeable. But Em kept her innermost concerns to herself. Whether she left tonight or stayed on, even she wasn't certain now...Nob Hill House held more than mysterious wonder now, perhaps secrets rather ominous. But Daryl was not leaving here without answering some questions first, if she had to hogtie him and threaten with bad poetry....
                         . . . .
Al scuttled off along with Daryl then, and Em and Jack were left alone at last.
'Quite the birthday celebration here Jack,' Em gazed about her as Jack swept debris from the porch.
'Indeed.' He paused in his broom-work and gazed at her. 'But having you here made it worthwhile.' He smiled.
Em smiled, blushing and looked down. 'Thank you. I'm glad I came.' Emlyn looked about her regarding the now peaceful summer's day. But her mind was travelling far...  
  Specifically, she was wondering about midsummer...
She would have to return, at least to Crowley Place, and then up to Jethro's, in time for midsummer celebrations
...hm...and then, soon enough, it would be harvest time.
  'Jack...you are coming back for the concert, yes?'
'Of course, Em!' He recommenced his sweeping up. 'Wouldn't miss it! And Rob Williams, too! I'm glad Jethro and Homer decided to go through with this scheme. They could make some money, and a name for themselves...' he paused, regarding her, 'That's something they might want to think about; more folks are going to know of their place, and, ah, and with Homer's bat-cave and still...well, not too sure if that's something they want the whole county to ken.'
'Oh, Jack...the valley isn't all that populated, and folks in the hills probably won't go to all the trouble of a long rough trip just to see mostly locals play...but, yes, I'll mention it to them.' Emlyn rose then, 'Let's have a walk about the place, shall we? See how trees have fared.'
                        . . . .
Sunset was quickly approaching, even for a long summer's day, since Emlyn had slept and dreamt the morning away.
And, once more, Daryl had managed to scare up some delightful comestibles: making use of the pantry larder to create a hearty potato, cheese and mushroom pie with rosemary crust, more mushrooms with chard, pine nuts and tomato,(all were greedily fond of mushrooms), and peach cobbler with brandy-soaked currants for dessert.
After dinner, the party once again gathered about the large
fireplace in the parlor, cracking nuts and eating chocolate truffles, (a birthday gift from Athena), and partaking of the port and brandy whilst Daryl entertained them at the grand.
  Rather than stick with the classics for which that lordly instument was created, he was tossing caution to the winds and belting out what Jack informed her were called 'Old Standards', which Em enjoyed immensely, and some she recognized from Alice's tunes when she would casually give voice about the house, back in the day...'Fly Me to the Moon', gave way to 'Moonlight In Vermont', then Daryl launched into a familiar tinkling prelude, and sang:
"The love-li-ness of Paris--seems somehow sadly gay,
The glory that was Rome, is of another day...
I've been all alone, and forgotten, in Manhatten,
I'm going home, to my City By the Bay--
   I Left My Heaaart...In San Fran-cis-co...
   High On a Hill,
   It calls to me...
   To. Be. Where:
   Little cable cars, climb halfway to the stars..."
Emlyn, despite herself, was carried away by the haunting song, at once lovely, joyful, and full of longing.
She looked up and noticed Daryl had caught her eye, his dark with unspoken meaning. Did he actually want her to return with him, back to Nob Hill House? He had always before seemed rather to push her and Jack together/forever.
Daryl was a tough nut to crack, (accent on 'nut', thought she), but damn, the man could play...
Suddenly she noticed Jack, too, was watching her, his gaze no less searching. Good Lord and Lady, she liked this not at all, the feeling of being but a chess piece in a game between the two. But, the question remained, would she stay or would she go?
Gods, but she wanted nothing more than simply to be left alone to her own devices back in Villa Encantada! Oh, why did Alice have to sell 'their' old place? Emlyn was weary of the machinations of men. Again.
As if sensing the byplay, Daryl wrapped things up with a flourish and quit the bench. He poured himself a hefty shot of cognac and strode about the room humming, busying himself with puttering about the secretary desk and it's piles of papers and ledgers.
What old secrets lie within there still, she wondered...?
Then, she knew what she had to do...what she had planned on doing, months before! To search through Nob Hill House and try to uncover more hidden information regarding her family, and Jack's as well. Anything to help make sense of this whole cavalcade of mysteries regarding them both.
'...There are old photo albums in the drawers there still,' Jack offered, watching his uncle paw through papers and assorted geegaws.
'Amazing...yes, that we even managed to print them out, back then...' he caught Em's eye, '--everything being digitized. Rarely did anyone use actual film. One had to take a photo, load it into a computer, then print the bloody thing...oh, nicely clear and crisp and detailed, and
soul-less...nothing!--compared to a simple black and white of Dorothea Lange's...' Daryl was muttering, as he went through the drawers.
'So...the photo, Daryl, the 'real' one, that I saw of you, my father and mother, at Nob Hill House...how came that to be taken?' Em thought she would start off with an easy one.
Daryl straightened up while looking through an album, and glanced at Em, 'Ah. Well, by that time, I was beginning to have my suspicions about the Society. I was, by then, acting as a spy. I wanted to 'get something on them', as the saying goes. In time, I had heard that here was something about having one's photo taken that would act as a sortof initiation. Once that was done, they were freer with their information.'
Em was tempted to suggest she and Daryl have a photo taken together now. But, he'd not get the joke and would hush up and only take offense. He hadn't answered her question she noticed. Different tack: 'So. You were going to tell me about my father's people. About Axelis.'
Daryl snapped shut the photo album. Sighing, he poured more cognac, and began to pace, stopping to gaze out the windows here and there. Finally, 'Axelis. Yes.' He cleared his throat. 'Understand, Em, that...what I know, has been gleaned from that particular mindspace where one is in other than our typical Beta-focused state of everyday awareness...'
'I've been there,' Em encouraged.
'Alright, then.' He glanced at Aleister and Jack, feeling more uncomfortable than if it were only he and Em present.
'Briefly, Axelis, as our redoubtable Yeats would tell you,
is part of the League. The nefarious bloody League...!' Daryl began pacing again, 'The only nefarious thing they did was not to stand idle while allowing people to suffer!'
'Back up abit, Daryl! We have no idea of what you mean!' Em pleaded.
Daryl stopped at the mantle and gazed into the fire, 'The League...are at odds with the High Council, who have set themselves above all and apart. The League, never has. They knew they were part of us, and we of them, and they never forgot us, their descendents, their orphaned family here on earth!
  'They attempted contact, and they did it out of love, and a sense of duty and responsibility, much as an elder of a clan would toward the clan's children. They wished to help us, in the only way they could, as they knew the karmic repercussions of such contact could rebound upon them. But they took that on, despite. And why? Because they knew, that to do nothing, would be the more grievious crime.'
Was this, then, Daryl's answer? And what could it mean?
'Here, on earth, you say? The League, and this High Council, are not, on earth then? Wherever could they be, Daryl, if not here?'
Daryl looked much pained. He drank off his cognac and set  the empty glass upon the table before them.
'Somewhere else..."Otherwhere",' was all he said. And then he betook himself off quickly upstairs.
'"Thus Spoke Zarathrustra,"' Aleister mumbled.
'Thinks he's Tony Bloody Bennett with a dash of Charlie Chan,' added Jack, not helpfully at all.
'"Richard is himself again,"' And Em left it at that.
                           . . . .
Emlyn sat quietly musing to herself in the silence left in Daryl's wake, while Jack and Al cleared off the tables and trays, muttering under their breath. She felt she needed time alone, to diagram all these puzzle-bits of information and see if it led to Any Answers. ("X" marks the spot, she
hoped.)
It had been a productive trip after all, she decided. But, although she was tired of having constant 'company' --(living with anyone other than Alice or Esperanza seemed to Em like having 'constant company' about, she had found), she was certainly not going to go with Daryl on command, like a dog to a whistle. No, she would stay a last night here at Jack's, with Jack. He deserved that much simple courtesy, and, she had to admit, just visiting Jack made their trysts much more attractive to her, when she could always go back home, and away...
  And, besides, she smiled to herself, she was the one with the artefact.
Later that evening, but certainly before the very small hours for a change, Jack and Emlyn were lying together upstairs, relaxing and drinking a tisane Em had made as a nightcap. 'I do like this kava, Jack! May I take some back with me? Not sure if I can find it at home...'
Jack noticed that Em was certainly not thinking of any place where he was, as 'home'. Well, changes, though slow in coming, are never impossible. Never say never, he told himself...ah, the drowning man, clutching at straws...
 'Of course, Em. I think Al keeps a stash somewhere...'
They had rather skirted about certain topics that had been the subject of painful revelation earlier, but Em couldn't leave without saying what she felt needed to be said.
  'I am sorry to hear of your unfortunate schooling, Jack.
I can't imagine what that could have been like.'
Jack lay quiet awhile. Then, 'No, you couldn't know,' he took her hand in his, 'and I'm grateful for that.' He sighed softly. 'I wish Daryl had been more forthcoming, as hard as it was to hear some of these truths, I mean...why disclose anything if you're only going to parcel out the pain bit by bit? Rip the whole bandage off at once, and let's see the gaping wound, already!' He was gripping her hand tightly and frowning. He noticed this and relaxed his hold.
 'I'm sorry too, that your own childhood was interferred with in such a way, Em. We've that in common at least. And, you'll always have a fellow conspirator working with you to uncover more such inconvenient truths!' He held her hand to his lips, kissing it, then.
Em leaned toward him, and kissed his lips. 'Thank you, Jack! Yes, we will get to the bottom of all this, somehow.
And, let's always work together Jack, not against one another! There is so much more at stake than petty personal
feelings here! I, for one, won't be able to think about anything else...and, I'll tell you this, I shall ransack Nob Hill House, bottom to top when I return!'
Jack smiled at her, 'You mean you haven't already?'
'I was hoping you would say that,' Em kissed him again and Jack blew out the candle.
                             . . . .