Let me not to the marriage of true minds
Admit impediments. Love is not love
Which alters when it alteration finds,
Or bends with the remover to remove:
O no! it is an ever-fixed mark
That looks on tempests and is never shaken;
It is the star to every wandering bark,
Whose worth's unknown, although his height be taken.
Love's not Time's fool, though rosy lips and cheeks
Within his bending sickle's compass come:
Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks,
But bears it out even to the edge of doom.
If this be error and upon me proved,
I never writ, nor no man ever loved.
Shakespeare
(Sonnet 116)
. . . .
..::She is not any common earth
Water or wood or air,
But Merlin's Isle of Gramarye
Where you and I will fare::..
. . . .
..::The empire of love is open,
The fable starts to unfold:..
Novalis
. . . .
The next morning when Emlyn awoke -- at last; she remembered the dream.
It was THE Dream she recalled; not of the night previous, but of the night before they'd left for this mystery village in the hills.
The dream, yes...of Merlin telling her that she and Daryl had been
granted a boon, it seemed; a chance for them all to be together --
she and Daryl, Josephina and Diego, and Anara and Merlin. All their past and future selves, rolled into one, in this time and, in this place, as well? Perhaps so.
This place, then... Emlyn glanced about her small but neat room. The
walls must have surely been thick to have insulated her tolerably well from the joyful noise below. She had slept deeply.
And what of the 'chance' meeting with Mr. Orez here?
That had to be the strangest occurrence yet. Although, she had to
admit...all here seemed to have the suspicious tang of Otherworldliness about it.
Oh, finding a Portuguese settlement about was not so out of the
ordinary, true. However, was it not interesting how, after their
accidental meeting at the forge with the smith, he & company had later turned up at the inn? Perhaps.
And, after finding the antique shop closed, they had also run into the shop's owner here at the inn as well? Peculiar. Maybe.
Not to mention Mr. Orez, also at the inn. Decidedly odd.
Was Daryl awake as yet? Emlyn wondered. Oh, bugger this 'novia' business!
She was not about to skulk around a bunch of Catholics just so their
feathers wouldn't ruffle at a hint of impropriety.
"'It's a bawdy planet!"' Em declared, quoting Shakespeare, as she threw off the bedclothes and stretched.
She went to the window: more fog.
Perfect for 'skulking'...
. . . .
Emlyn, now dressed for action, rapped quietly upon Daryl's door.
Softly now: 'Diego? Are you up?'
She glanced about the hallway. Nada. She tried the doorknob, opened it and slipped inside.
Daryl lay sleeping with the bedclothes wrapped about his legs, barely covering his rump. Alas, Em thought; nice rump, that.
Luckily, his torso was bare, still, and Em stood over him, observing closely.
-- Those scars. She knew now, whence had come those particular scars. Odd, she had just dressed them with aloe, fresh then, only days ago and a World away.
Healed now, these scars remained as Daryl's constant reminders: light streaks and circles, (burns? Em wondered. Dam the bloody Buzzard!); his body was not much changed from his younger-Diego-self. Still sun-baked brown and hard enough. Daryl was no idler, and remained in good shape;
for all his feasting and drinking, he never overdid. -- Much...
He never stayed still long, Diego. Like the whirlwind...
Em gently sat beside him upon the narrow bed. He truly did not look so different from the Diego she had known. His long, dark hair, now streaked with silver strands here and there, and along his temples...
She reached over to softly brush the dark curls from his cheek.
A hand grabbed her wrist and held tightly.
Daryl opened his eyes.
'--CARA!...mia...' Daryl cried, with a heave upwards. Groaning, he
dropped her hand and fell back on the pillow, rubbing his eyes. 'Sooo bright...'
Ah, yes. Last night. One of those times he had 'overdone it',
somewhat.
'Buenos dias, Diego.' Josephina had him now.
Daryl/Diego merely groaned. He pulled the sheet about himself and rolled over, head in pillow. 'Make bad light go away...' he mumbled.
'It is overcast, Diego. Fog. Won't be any darker until night time.'
'Wake me then.' Daryl put the pillow over his head.
'Alright...' Emlyn/Josephina took a corner of the sheet and slipped
underneath, scootching up against Daryl/Diego. She sighed. 'This is
cosy.'
'Yee-ah!' Daryl moved up onto his elbows and surveyed the scene. 'You, you cannot do this, here, now! Em, Josephina!'
' Ohh...' He put a hand to his head. 'Water...' He felt about the floor and found a cup, drank thirstily.
'We could order in!' Em snuggled down. '-- Room-service! Oh, I recall now! The sopa is still in the carriage keeping cold! I would love some for an early lunch. I'm sure we could have it heated in the kitchen.'
What was the woman doing? Daryl could barely think after last night. His head felt like rocks rattled about inside. His stomach felt a bit lurchy.
'Tea, I think, first...' He managed one useful thought. Then gave up and lay back down.
'Daryl, all this sneaking about is ridiculous, really,' Emlyn ran a finger along his arm. 'It has been nothing but interruptions and crowds of folk, and no time to simply rest and, relax together...'
Daryl took her hand, kissed it. 'Yes. I know.' He sighed. 'I had hoped for a nice drive, maybe stopping in a little grove for a picnic along the way...but fog...'
'I don't care, Diego.' Josephina asserted herself, weary of battling
Catholicism. A hold-over from their Cathar days, perhaps.
'I don't care what others think!'
(We battled sorcerers and madmen and banditos to cave in to the wishes of hidebound small town gossips, she wondered?)
'I, I think we ought. Sometimes, cara. Manners, custom...it oils the gears of our civilization.' Daryl eased himself up beside her, put an arm about her shoulders.
'Greases the wheels of business...' Emlyn groused.
Daryl kissed her hair. 'Yes. That, too,' he admitted. 'We will be
home, soon enough, yes? Oh, blast it...what's the time?' He groped for his pocket watch upon the table, sighed. 'I suppose we must rouse. Just an hour until we meet Silva.'
'Fine.' Em got out of bed, smoothing her skirts. 'I will order tea, and meet you downstairs, then?'
Daryl/Diego leaned over, catching her hand. 'Don't be cross,
querida... I shall make it up to you later. We will make time to be alone together, at last, sim?' He kissed her hand. 'I promise.'
As Emlyn shut the door and made her way down the steps, she made a
promise as well; she promised herself she would see Daryl make good on his promise.
. . . .
Daryl was still buttoning his vest as he slowly headed downstairs, trying to kick his mind into gear.
It wasn't easy...gods, what with the Malmsey, Colheita, and what-all, it was a miracle he was ambulatory at this hour. But, he hoped it had been worth it...
He knew it had all been rather a sort of initiation and 'hazing'...the locals testing the newcomers and city-folk, to see what stuff they were made of, and if they rated their trust and business.
By the aching in his head, he had certainly given his all.
He stopped a moment on the landing, surveying the dining hall below. He spotted Emlyn seated at a booth with Manuel. They both appeared to be enjoying her beloved sopa, with bread. And tea, thanks gods. A start.
The two of them seemed awfully chipper. More than anyone had a right to be on such a fog-benighted day.
They did indeed seem bright of eye and bushy of brain this morning...
How did she do it? The little vixen had seemed to be imbibing right along with the rest. She had a way of sipping slow, though. Little Zorrita...
...And the way she had simply slipped into his bed beneath the sheet this morning!
He caught himself thinking of Emlyn as his novia, in truth. And, why not? They wouldn't be sneaking about then, would they, as husband and wife? It wasn't such a mad idea, was it?
Best wait until after breakfast for such discussions.
He may order coffee as well. And perhaps a pair of tinted glasses
whilst he was at it...in rose?
. . . .
He eased downstairs, feeling that something else was on his mind,
niggling away at him, if only he could remember...
As he gained the booth where Emlyn and Manuel sat, he suddenly
recalled:
'That dream! I had a dream!'
Emlyn studied Daryl, hovering above them like an unstable, rather weighty balloon. She feared he was nearly sleepwalking.
'Indeed, Diego? Do take a seat...'
Daryl signaled a waiter and ordered coffee, fruit and toast.
'I'll be at the smith's,' Manuel informed them, as he slid from the booth. 'Galahad has a loose shoe, I found. Won't take long, they tell me,'
They made plans to all meet later for luncheon at the restaurant.
'More sopa, to take home,' Em smiled.
Daryl was quiet, strangely. He drank his tea in great gulps, then began on the coffee. Peeling a mandarin, he stared at it, frowning at seemingly nothing.
'Are you thinking of the dream you had?' Em knew that had to be it.
He sighed, and regarded her. 'Yes.' He looked at his fruit, sectioned it.
'I met with Anara. On the strand...'
Em bit her lip. 'I know. I, also, had the dream. I met and spoke with Merlyn.'
They looked at one another quietly for a while.
Then, Emlyn reached over and took Daryl's hand. 'Here and now, is what is most important. That was their message, I believe.'
Daryl sighed again. 'You're right. That was it, in a nutshell.' Was he ready for this? Was she?
'Yes.' Emlyn whispered, squeezing his hand.
'Yes, what, cara?' He was still unsure.
'Yes, I believe that the Here and Now, IS indeed, the most important thing, for us both.' She regarded him, Daryl. He wasn't having doubts, was he?
He smiled a little, and took her hand in both of his, kissed it.
'Good. I believe so as well.'
The waiter arrived with more bread and toast and tea. 'Is there a bakery in town?' Em inquired. 'I would love to take home some of this wonderful bread!'
Taking down the address, Emlyn finished her tea. 'Is it time yet?'
'Nearly so,' Daryl studied his watch. 'I'm beginning to gather my
wandering wits somewhat.' He poured more coffee from the carafe. 'I have a feeling I shall have to be on the alert around Sebastiao.' He looked at Em. 'If only to keep him from stealing my novia...'
'There is NO chance of that, I assure you, Diego.' Emlyn was rather
warming to the 'novia' thing. As long as it didn't interfere with her cosying up to Diego whenever she wished. Or any of her other plans.
'We will talk later,' Daryl insisted, gray gaze narrowing. Eyes the color of fog outside.
One could become lost in both.
Em had heard that mythical 'later' before, though. They bundled into
their coats and headed out into the color-drained world of swirling
mists.
...Somewhat like that of a waking Dream...
. . . .
Sebastiao opened the shop door as soon as they arrived. 'Welcome! Enter!I give you leave to come, and to go, from Luis Vaz de Camões...,' He bent in a sweeping bow, beckoning them within.
An odd sort of greeting, Emlyn mused, yet could not help but be
entertained by Sebastiao's fulsome gestures.
Daryl and Em gazed about them, the shop serene in semi-darkness, still.
Only the gray fog-light from the cool morning sky shone within. 'A moment only! Pardonne...'
Sebastiao reached behind Emlyn's shoulder, and punched the electric light switch, hesitating just a moment too long, in order to brush her shoulders in a half-hug.
Instantly, scintillating radiance sprang to life about the shop, and a new world was born.
'Oh, my!' Emlyn breathed, as she gazed about her. Rather than a jumble of shapes, the shop resolved itself into various scenarios designed to intrigue the customer; crystal prisms and chandeliers were placed to catch and reflect the light so even the darkest corners sparkled.
Emlyn and Daryl wandered, entranced. Daryl ran a light finger along the groupings of captain's, fanback, farthingale, rocking and wing chairs, cathedras, dos-a-dos, and fauteuils, muttering to himself.
Em also noted some fine specimens even she could name, 'Carver, Dante, Savonarola...'
'Methuselah...' Daryl teased her.
'Surely not quite that ancient...' Em whispered, amused.
Cunning small nooks had grouped within: themes of sorts. Here, nautical, there, musical... Em weaved her way slowly amongst the assorted oddities and effects. One could become lost in these archaic pocket-worlds...
'So, what do you think of my little shop, Josephina...?'
-- Sebastiao's voice a throaty purr at her ear.
'It is enchanting, Sebastiao! Oh, I could spend hours here, just
gazing at it all!' Em feared she just might.
'Excellent!' Sebastiao went behind the richly carved counter of rosewood which appeared to have been a jeweler's case. Emlyn began studying the glorious antique jewelry displayed...bibelot, aigrette, diadems, carcanet, brooches, rings and, Em's favorite, cameos...
The dealer reappeared with a silver tray bearing a coffee service with demitasse cups and a dish of almond biscuits.
'It smells divine...' Emlyn joined the pirate pilot's descendant and Daryl at the counter's end.
'Most appreciated,' Daryl nodded, as he gratefully grasped two cups of the strong espresso, adding a touch of creme to their drinks. He handed one to Emlyn; their hands touched. They lingered.
'Salud!' -- from Sebastiao.
All drank a toast, and he then rejoined them round the counter. 'My kingdom,' he waved a hand, 'is at your service! Do feel free to
browse...'
At that moment, a man appeared from a door in back of the shop. Emlyn was still bemused by jewelry, when glancing up, she beheld Alejandro Orez standing across from her, regarding her darkly. She had opened her mouth in surprise, when Sebastiao 'introduced' them:
'Ah! Diego, Josephina -- I would like you to meet Raimundo. He is my sometimes-partner, and eternal enigma. A world traveler, he has contacts in all ports.'
Daryl/Diego shook 'Raimundo's' hand and introduced Emlyn/Josephina,
'--Your novia,' Alejandro/Raimundo finished for him. 'Yes. I was at the inn last evening when we toasted your engagement.' He eyed Daryl narrowly, eyes like turbulent black pools.
'Ah, excuse us one moment, por favor?' Sebastiao addressed the 'happy couple', 'Just a small bit of business to wrap up. Do explore my oasis!'
He and Raimundo then repaired to the small office in back, leaving the door open.
'-- To keep watch...' Daryl smiled his half-smile, as he took Em's arm and directed them out of earshot yet within sight of the two antiques dealers. 'We shall stay where Sebastiao may still see us. A courtesy.' He noted Em's sudden quiescence. 'Alright, cara?'
She feared she may betray her unease. 'Ah, yes. Just, too much coffee, perhaps. I...'
At that moment, the shop door opened admitting a swirl of lace and
perfume surrounding a lady tasselated and festooned far beyond the
quotidian norm.
'Ola!' She sang out in soprano, as she plunged down the aisle toward them, a lavender ship in full sail, trailing a wake of Worth.
'Bon jour! Good morning! Como cava? And, where is that old pirate,
Sebastiao, now? Oh! Coffee! Tres' bien!' And off she scuttled to the
coffee pot, leaving Em and Daryl stunned as a port town hit by hurricane.
'I see you, Sebastiao! No use hiding!' She bent her dark head bearing a lavender hat,( or chapeau, as she would say), with a wreath-size ring of silk flowers, so to address the hapless men huddled in the office.
'It is only I, do go on with your business...you are out of espresso, by the way...'
Humming to herself, cup in hand, she browsed her way back to the Happy Couple's side.
'Ah, do forgive!' She held a hand out to Daryl, 'I am Angelique
Delancy, proprietress of Delancy Coffee and Teas. You must visit my
petite establishment soon, non?'
Daryl obligingly took the women's gloved hand (lavender, of course), and bowed slightly. 'Very good to meet you, Madame Delancy. Diego Rivera, at your service, and this is my --'
'--Your novia, of course!' Angelique smiled a Cheshire Cat smile at Em.
'Oh, word has gotten about town. Josephina, is it not?'
'Josephina Page, oui, Madame.' Em could hardly get a word in, but felt she must give it an attempt at least, or drown in a raging torrent.
'Ah, Josephine...Napoleon's true nemesis!' Madame Delancy sounded as though she had known them both well.
'Eh, not as such...' Daryl squirmed.
Madame Delany tossed a lavender hanky about, dismissively. She took Em's arm and strolled the aisle with her, leaving Daryl to stew and his mind to flutter.
'You WILL come visit my shop, cherie...the absolute best chocolates! Fresh truffles daily!'
'I adore truffles.' True enough, Em thought. Perhaps she would stop by.
'Madame, are you familiar with the bakery? I have the address...I must take some of the wonderful breads here back home to the City with me.'
'Ah! Naturalement! But it is just kitten-corner to my shop!' Angelique patted Em's arm. 'To which, I must soon return...' she sighed. 'If you are not busy, I could show you the way now, perhaps?' Her eyes went to
Diego, in question.
Emlyn made it clear she was indeed a free agent: 'No, I have some free time. Just let me give Diego the address, and we'll be off...'
'I will meet you outside then! Don't be lo-oong!' Away breezed
Hurricane Angelique.
'Diego, I believe I shall go with Madame Delancy now, if you don't mind. Her shop is near the bakery...' Emlyn handed him the address.
'Yes, that's fine,' Daryl silently praised Em's mind-reading powers. 'I think that, ah, business might proceed apace sans that good lady's presence. Like Jupiter, her gravity engulfs all near and unwary...'
He took her hand and pressed a light kiss farewell. 'We will meet up soon. Unfinished business.' His eyes bespoke assurance.
Emlyn was not yet so assured. 'I hope so. I shall be in need of
rescue, Diego. Do not fail me!' She smiled as she turned away, and
proceeded down the sidewalks, arm-in-arm with the maundering, voluble, garrulous, loquacious and lavender lady.
. . . .
Emlyn sat at the dark mahogany counter, sipping a fine cup of Russian Caravan, whilst Angelique shared 'tastes' of her varied and sumptuous sweets.
Emlyn joined her, letting the mouthful of rich dark chocolate melt upon her warm tongue...it was soon warmed further by fiery hints of chilie powder lightly dusted within the truffle. Em's eyes lit up.
'It is bon, non?' Angelique nodded. 'And this...with violet and
lavender...magnifique!' She pushed a new truffle with her long nail
across the plate, taking one for herself.
Em complied without complaint. Being stuffed with truffles, gratis, was never a hardship for her.
At least when eating, she noticed, Madame's mouth was busy and the air was given a chance to clear.
Perhaps she might be persuaded to put her incessant chatter to
practical use...
'You seem well acquainted with Mr. Silva,' she began.
'Oh, mais oui, cher...his shop was here even before mine. We have become very close friends over the years, indeed.' Her gimlet gaze locked onto Em's. It seemed to say, 'So back off, sister!'; quite unnecessarily.
Emlyn had absolutely no interest in the handsome, brash and arrogant
pirate dealer.
'...And, his partner, Raimundo...do you know him well, also?' Emlyn's kept her tone flat and casual.
'Umm, non.' Madame seemed uninterested. No doubt due to that gentleman's disinterest. 'He is an odd one. Brazilian, I believe. He comes and goes.'
Ah-hah, thought Em. 'But he does visit the shop often, then?'
'I suppose...he has had dealings with Sebastiao for the past few years now. But, enough of them!' She leaned a dimpled chin upon her hand. 'I wish to hear all about your wedding plans!'
Oh, dear. What, now? Emlyn was thinking it would be a propitious time for Daryl to show up. Cavalry, to the rescue!
Her hesitation showed, alas.
'Do not tell me, you have none? But how soon is the wedding, cherie?'
Madame was suitably aghast.
'I, we, ah...have not yet, decided,' Emlyn faltered.
Madame surveyed the singular lack of adornment about Emlyn's naked left hand. 'I see.' She did.
'It isn't what you are thinking...' Em rushed to defend Daryl. 'It, ah, well, it is rather sudden. Although we have known one another for years now...(Em shocked herself to admit that this was now so), we just spoke of our, engagement, only days ago...' she finished lamely.
Angelique eyed Emlyn with a sympathetic yet steely gaze. 'You MUST have a ring, cherie! Non, non -- you will insist! I will insist!
'Oh, there are some beauteous old antique rings in Sebastiao's shop!'
Madame fluttered bejeweled fingers in illustration. 'I have first
selection, naturalement, but what is there now, can hardly be called tailings! Ah, non, non...you must pin your Diego down to a date, ma petite!' She patted Em's naked and wanting left hand.
Suddenly, Madame's gaze went to the shop door, which tinkled.
'Ah, speak of el diablo...'
Oh, diosa be thanked! Saved by the bell, Emlyn relaxed...it was Daryl, not a moment too soon!
'Are we ready? We are meeting Manuel for lunch, remember.' Daryl
sketched a bow to the prattling proprietress, 'Madame.'
'Yes! Diego, I am quite stuffed with truffles and could use a short
walk.' She turned to Angelique. 'Do wrap up some to take with us, please? Perhaps one of each, Madame?'
Promising to stop by before they left town; at last, Daryl and Emlyn
burst out of her shop door like a pair of proverbial bats loosed from Hades.
'I've a feeling you've earned your truffles...' Daryl grinned, happy to have escaped so readily.
'Madonna...' Em inhaled. 'It is good to breathe fresh air! Still
rather foggy about, though. I was hoping it would have cleared by now.'
She fell into step with her supposed partner.
'Well? How did the wheeling and dealing go at Camoes'?'
Daryl was smiling, so she had an idea he was somehow pleased. 'Well
enough! I am having Manuel pick up some pieces later, to bring home with us, for sale. Should make a handsome profit, I believe. Nothing too big, of course...Galahad has enough to pull, just packing us along. The coach is primarily balsa wood wherever it can be used, so it is more lightweight than most its size. Naturally, the floor and roof are well-oiled and insulated...' Daryl was rambling.
Em found she was beginning to crave a space of solitude.
'But, his partner, Raimundo...' Daryl seemed pensive.
'Yes?' He had Em's attention now.
'Yes. He is an odd sort. Rather reserved. He is the one I wished to find here. St. John mentioned the man has contacts in Brazil, Iberia, and beyond.' Daryl paused. 'However, he has been less than forthcoming. Perhaps once we are better acquainted... Ah, well. I am starving, how about you?'
Daryl obviously hadn't been truffle-stuffed like a Sunday pig. She thought she detected a whiff of liqueur and coffee mix about him, however.
Emlyn wondered about his meeting with 'Raimundo'. She was not so sure how chummy she wished Daryl to become with her ex's best friend...
Perhaps it was time for a bit of disclosure on her part.
. . . .
Manuel had left to fetch the items from Camoes' whilst Daryl and Emlyn lingered over a late lunch. Only two other tables were occupied some distance from them, and the couple naturally fell into talking rather candidly now they had some relative privacy.
'I...just think, Josephina, that since our, travels, south of the
border...' Daryl tore bits of bread as he talked, nervously, 'where we, became, you know, very well acquainted. Quite close. And, ah,
intimate...'
His eyes glanced up at hers, then quickly down. He sighed, frustrated.
'Cara mia, we really cannot pretend otherwise...'
'I don't intend to,' Emlyn answered, calmly.
'Ah, well, no -- I don't intend to, either!' His brow furrowed, his gaze pleaded for her to help him make this easier. (She wasn't about to.)
'Well.' He knew he had to say something, and not just dither so. 'I think that, it would be, the next step, don't you think?'
'What would, Diego?'
'Well, that we should...make it official, of course.' There. It was said.
'Ah. For propriety's sake?' Em wanted rather something more from a proposal than begging the approval of strangers.
Dam the woman... Daryl didn't seem to be getting anywhere. Well, when words failed...
Luckily, he knew what to do. He hoped...
Swallowing nervously, Daryl twitched his trouser legs about his knees and knelt before Emlyn.
Reaching into a pocket, he produced a black velvet box. He opened it.
Inside nestled a jewel to stop traffic...
A large emerald set in etched white gold, surrounded by small
diamonds.
'I, I know it's not a proper engagement ring, being an emerald...but if you don't like it, we shall find another, more what you would --'
'-- Oh, Diego...' Josephina was stunned. 'It is so beautiful! I would want no other! Oh, I hope it fits...'
'-- Is that a 'yes', then?' Diego asked.
'I'm sorry, Diego. What was the question?' Emlyn would not help any more than she absolutely had to. Unless a sharp kick might assist...
By now, they had the undivided attention of the other two tables, as well as the entire wait-staff and all the cooks.
'The lady wishes a proposal...!' A matron seated with her husband
offered assistance at that point.
'Me, I would have asked by now!' The man chuckled, waving a finger at Diego.
'Obrigato,' Diego nodded to them both, then turned back to Josephina.
'Josephina Page, I, Diego Rivera, offer myself as your life partner, if you will have me. Josephina, cara, will you marry me?'
Josephina was tempted to delay, but Emlyn, thankfully compassionate, answered:
'Yes, Diego, I will marry you.'
'Cara...' Diego took Josephina's hand, and gently slid the ring upon her left hand, no longer naked and bereft.
'It is a perfect fit,' she vowed.
Diego heaved a sigh of relief, and kissed her hand. Then he whispered, '...help me up...?'
Emlyn clasped her hands about his, and stood, discretely hauling Daryl to his feet and they embraced and kissed -- a real kiss; as the host of onlookers applauded and cheered their congratulations.
'Only here and now, Josephina...always.' Diego promised.
'Here and now, Diego,' she agreed.
. . . .
Van Morrison: These Are the Days
These Are the Days - Van Morrison
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