Mandra, Page 2

"No," she muttered softly. She felt very at ease in this stranger's presence.

  "Isabel is not your real name. Can you think of a name you would rather be called?"

  She tried to find another, but no specific name came to her mind. "No... I can't think—"

  "It's all right. Don't strain," Nole interrupted. "Do you have pastimes you think you'd enjoy more than others?" he asked.

  "I..." she began, "horseback riding..."

  "Yes, she fell from a horse," Valen said excitedly. Nole motioned for him to be quiet.

  "I want to ride a horse..." Isabel continued, "walking... I want to walk..."

  "Good. This is fine, and when you see children, how do you feel?" Nole asked.

  "Children?" Isabel frowned slightly. "I don't know... I haven't seen children..."

  "Okay." Nole turned to Valen, "Was there a wedding ring on her finger? I see none now."

  "No, there was none," Valen whispered.

  "What kind of terrain do you like best, Isabel?" Nole asked her.

  "Hills... trees... green grass..," Isabel went on.

  "All right," Nole reassured her. "Now I will ask you to imagine something. Bring into your mind the person you have known longest in your life. Put their image in your mind. What do you see, Isabel?"

  Isabel sat for a moment, perfectly still. A picture began to form in her mind, but not a face... not a clear face. She was afraid. She began to tense her body. It was that sound. It was so familiar to her. The march of a guard on a stone floor... and it grew nearer. Nearer and nearer as it had in her nightmare. And her heart began to pound, and she could still hear the march. Yet she was awake and didn't know how to stop it. She drew a hand to her mouth as she gasped and then let out a muffled scream. Her eyes flew open. The spell had been broken. The march subsided and ended abruptly altogether as she took in the familiar sight of the cabin. Valen was at her side quickly helping her to sit and pulling the wrap around her shoulders. "My goodness, darling, what on earth could you have seen? Hmm?" He held her in his arms.

  Nole sat patiently in the chair. "I did not expect it to work well," he said. "I must go." And with that he rose and swiftly threw on his fur cape.

  "Worth the try, lad, I'm sure. Thank you." Valen winked at him.

  Nole nodded and was gone just as abruptly as he had arrived. He didn't say goodbye.

  Isabel stared at the door where he had just stood. She had been comforted by Nole's gentle voice and manner, as abrupt as he had also been. She hoped he wasn't angry at her for not making progress. He was gone so fast. Valen still patted her on the back as she thought again of the nightmare she'd just had.

  "What a fright you've had," Valen informed her, while shifting to the chair where Nole had sat. "Don't you worry, dear, we'll outwit that stubborn brain of yours yet." His eyes twinkled.

  "Yes," she spoke finally. "It was just a rough beginning. My memory will return," she said, only half believing it.

  "Mm... Nole is actually a very well-read young man, you know," Valen said. "Little formal education past the age of ten, I believe. He appears a ruffian, like those tribal people, you know, but he has quite a bit of great literature and more stored in his brain. A marvel, that one. I can't understand it. He's fascinating to talk with usually. He barely spoke a word today." Valen scratched his head thoughtfully. "No matter, we'd best be on our way, my dear, to make it back before dark. Do you feel well enough yet?" he inquired.

  "Oh, yes, I'm fine, Valen," Isabel said. She was anxious to get back to the castle. To be alone to think more than anything else. She thought of what Valen had said, "fascinating to talk with." Why did she feel fascinated with Nole's unique manner, when he'd only said a handful of things to her, most of them meaningless? He couldn't help with her memory, but he was a relief from the over protectiveness of Valen. But now it was important for her to work on her memory. It had just occurred to her she may have had a suitor, if not a husband. There was no ring on her finger. She hadn't thought to look.

  They rode home in the carriage in relative silence for once. Valen seemed to have a lot on his mind as well.

  Chapter 3

  "Isabel," Valen began at breakfast one morning, "do you remember what I said about getting you a tutor?" He glanced at her thoughtfully.

  "Yes." Isabel wondered what he was planning.

  "I've been thinking... there's a gentleman I had recommended to me recently. He's very good... we could have him visit us a few times a week. What do you say?" Valen sipped his tea as he waited for her reply.

  Isabel stared at her plate for a moment, thinking of his offer. She did have very little to do and was beginning to be bored and also aggravated that her memory still eluded her. If Valen had some strange plan to keep her from concentrating on her memories, what did it matter now? They were gone. She felt like she'd never remember who she was. And she'd certainly like to get her mind off of that.

  "Yes, that sounds fine. It'll give me something to do, anyway," Isabel answered.

  "I thought you might think that," Valen agreed. "We'll have him out next week then, hmm?"

  She nodded her acknowledgment.

  Breakfast then continued on as usual, Valen telling her about the latest political developments or his business dealings. He had plenty to occupy his mind. Maybe it was time she started adding information to her own. It may be all she'd ever have. Memories from this time onward. No history or past. She put that sad thought out of her mind and concentrated on enjoying the meal and Valen's company.

  * * *

  The rest of that week went by like the one before it. She had her walks, which did her body good even if her brain went unchanged. Valen still wouldn't let her ride, though she wanted to. He thought it was too soon after the accident, and too vigorous an exercise for her to endure now. She thought perhaps he feared her familiarity with horses might bring some memory back. It was the only thing they were sure of about her past. She had ridden and perhaps done it well. Enjoyed it anyway, she was sure. She missed it, even if she had no specific memories of riding.

  So that week she merely walked, and talked with Zenie.

  Sometimes even helped her with her work. She was bored. So they sewed together, and Isabel followed Zenie around as she dusted. It was hard at first to get the shy girl to talk much with her, but they became friends at last.

  Zenie was only 14, she learned, and an orphan, but only a recent one. She had lost her mother the year before. Her mother had also been a servant for Valen. Zenie as a child had followed her around, mocking her movements, and as she grew older she began to lend a hand.

  Her mother had had a sudden attack and died quickly. Zenie lost some of her playfulness then. Life seemed to end when her kind mother left. Valen was very nice to her, and no doubt watched how bravely she took up her mother's duties, determined to do as well as she had done. She was slow with things at first, and there were mix ups. It had been easier to watch than do.

  Zenie did her job excellently now. This wasn't the only thing she did well. Isabel had found a great comfort in her friendship with the girl, who didn't know what a simple inspiration she was, especially those first few weeks.

  * * *

  The week the tutor would begin teaching finally arrived. Isabel was anxious as she dressed that morning, and astonished herself by skipping down to breakfast. To learn anything would be wonderful now. She lived in a world of nothing. No memories to fall back on, no rules for herself made by trial and error. She just was. A clay figure fired and glazed, but now softened again to be reshaped by anyone she let into her world. And she had made up her mind to let the tutor do just that: recreate her world.

  Valen noticed the irrepressible smile that kept creeping onto Isabel's face, but he said nothing. He knew she was restless, but what could be done for her? Now it was apparent. All she needed was a happy distraction, a new pastime.

  Devon Gabriel was to arrive at ten, and Isabel paced impatiently in the garden for the last half hour
she had to wait. When the time came, she rushed into the castle and threw off her cloak. She sat on her knees on the library sofa, her face almost pressed up against the glass. Then she saw him.

  He was about thirty, tall and thin, and fairly handsome. Black curly hair bounced out of his hat as he tripped on a wayward stone. A manservant rushed out to assist him. Mr. Gabriel waved him away and brushed the snow off his hat before firmly planting it back on his head. Then he disappeared inside the castle.

  Isabel hopped off the sofa and tried to compose herself. She smoothed her ruffled skirts and placed herself in a ladylike sitting position facing the door. Feeling she looked too expectant, she absently grabbed a book from the low table in front of her.

  Hearing a brisk clip in the hall, she stared more intently at the book, the subject of which still eluded her. Then the door opened.

  "Isabel?" Valen asked, as he stepped into the room. The tall gentleman stood at his side, minus the cloak and hat.

  "Yes?" She glanced up from her absorbing book. "Oh, is this the tutor?" She smiled.

  "Master Devon Gabriel, meet Mistress Isabel..." Valen trailed off, realizing they had chosen no last name for her.

  "Pleased to meet you," Mr. Gabriel said with a clear deep voice.

  Isabel nodded in return.

  "Well," said Valen, "I thought this library would make an excellent schoolroom. Plenty of books, a fire, and tables to study at, hmm?" He clapped his hands together. "Perfect. All right, I'll leave you to your work now. Nice meeting you, Master Gabriel." He shook hands with the man. "Isabel." He nodded at her and then quietly left the room.

  Mr. Gabriel approached the chair next to the low table, "Well, Mistress... I'm sorry, I did not hear your last name." He stood, his body frozen en route to a sitting position in the chair, waiting for her reply.

  "Oh, no, call me Isabel, please," she said quickly.

  "Yes, Isabel," he said finishing his journey to the chair. "All right. Valen didn't mention what you'd like to study. I have a knowledge of many subjects. What did you have in mind?"

  Such a deep voice. Perfect for a teacher. Kept students in line. "Almost anything will do," Isabel said. "Has Valen told you of my situation?"

  "Actually no," Mr. Gabriel said. "Is there something I should know?"

  Isabel thought for a moment. "No." Then she smiled. "Why don't you recommend a subject?"

  And he did. They began to study Latin that day, and over the following weeks, mathematics and composition lessons were added. Isabel finally felt like she was living. Like she was someone.

  Each weekday she met her tutor at seven. He left at 2 or 3 o'clock. It was strange for her to spend so much time with this man and know nothing about him except his literary and artistic tastes. They had become friends. Yet they were strangers still. Her lack of a past kept her from sharing anything, and his interest in the studied subjects apparently kept him from talking about himself.

  While Isabel was happy to have her time and her mind occupied by something other than worry, schoolwork made her a little restless. It could be somewhat boring to be made to repeat Latin translations over and over until she knew them by heart. Her mind began to wander to other things. She created stories in her head about Mr. Gabriel. About his origins. She gave him a wild and exciting past, and mysterious secrets.

  She was so caught up in her imaginary work, she didn't realize he was staring right at her.

  "Isabel?"

  She was alert again. "Yes, sorry," she said. "Did you ask a question?" Her face reddened a little.

  "What is the Latin word for 'tree'?" he asked.

  She could see a slight smile behind his question, but she chose to ignore it. Looking down into her book, she answered matter of factly, "Arbor."

  When she glanced up, he was once again his stern self.

  "Master Gabriel?" she asked suddenly.

  "Yes?" His eyes watched her expectantly.

  "Where do you come from?"

  "Oh." He looked very surprised by that question. "Um, further south from here." He flipped pages in his text book, searching for some lost passage. "Small village, nowhere you've heard of, I'm sure." Then he cleared his throat. "Page thirty one now, Mistress Isabel."

  He looked as if he would like to get back to their schoolwork, so she didn't question him further. She turned to the page he had asked for.

  Chapter 4

  Every night thoughts of her past swam around in her mind barely out of reach. This drove her a little mad at times and certainly kept her from sleeping. More soothing were thoughts of Mr. Gabriel. It was much easier on her nerves to ignore the huge dilemma of her unknown identity and instead wonder about the past of her conservative tutor.

  Why had he acted so strangely when she'd asked where he was from? Was he hiding something? Maybe he was just shy. No, it wasn't that, she decided. He wasn't nervous, just uncomfortable. How strange. With this puzzle in her mind, she drifted easily off to sleep.

  * * *

  The next day, as usual, they began their work with the study of mathematics. It was hard for Isabel to grasp these concepts with numbers. She must not have learned this before. She knew how to read, but Latin seemed unfamiliar to her as well. Maybe she had known them before and forgotten them along with her past. But why then had she not forgotten reading? Who could she be? She found no clues to her identity in these endless questions. Frustrated with it, she finally took up her study of Mr. Gabriel once more. Did he have a family somewhere, or was he alone?

  "Are you married?" she blurted out suddenly.

  He looked quite taken aback.

  "Oh, I'm sorry," she said, blushing again. "I just, I..." She fiddled with the paper in front of her. She couldn't find words, couldn't figure out a way to erase that embarrassing question from his mind.

  "Uh, no," he said finally, looking perplexed.

  "You see, I'm just creating stories in my head, and..." Oh no, that sounded stupid, she thought. "I mean, mathematics is so trying for me, and... I..." She was lost.

  "I see," he said. He couldn't help smiling at the stumbling she had just done over her words.

  "But we could get back to it now," she said, afraid to look up at him. "Mathematics," she added.

  "Of course." He picked up his book and was about to begin dictating problems to her, but changed his mind. He saw the look come over her face again, like she was a bit lost in her own world.

  He put his book down and pulled the chair out from his side of the table. "Do you mind if I sit?" he asked politely.

  She shook her head, still a little embarrassed.

  "We could take a break from studying if you like." He sat down in front of her. "I mean, this is supposed to be for your own amusement. Is that not what Valen said?"

  She nodded, still confused about what he was doing.

  He looked a bit sheepish, like his words were all coming out wrong. "Would you like to learn a game?" he asked her.

  "Oh," she said, relieved. She had begun to think she was in trouble with him. He had such a stern way of doing and saying things. "Yes." She nodded.

  He began to look around the room, searching for something. "I have an idea," he said distractedly. He stood up then and turned toward the door. "I'll be right back," he said turning to her in the doorway. Then he quickly left the room, but she heard his footsteps stop and turn on themselves. He popped his head back into the room. "I think you'll like this," he said, smiling like a schoolboy. Then he was gone again.

  She giggled at him. He had changed, suddenly. Something had come over him. It was very strange, but she liked it. What was this surprise he was searching out for her? He'd certainly helped in her game of figuring him out. He'd given her plenty to puzzle over in his quarter hour absence.

  Finally he returned.

  He came back into the room holding what looked like a tray. He was balancing it carefully. It had little figures standing on it. He smiled at her as he laid it down on the table in f
ront of her as if it were a treasure.

  "It's a chess board," he said excitedly.

  "Oh, Valen was speaking of this game the other day." She was excited too. "It looks so complicated," she said, frowning a little.

  "It is a bit complicated," he admitted, taking his seat across form her again. He began arranging the little figures in rows as Isabel watched, fascinated.

  "I taught my sisters to play," he said a bit quietly, glancing up at her while he worked.

  Sisters. He had given her a piece of information about himself, knowing she was curious. How sweet, she thought. He had even looked a bit shy as he said it.

  She gave him a smile.

  * * *

  Isabel had begun to realize that a strange sensation came over her when she was near Mr. Gabriel. She smiled when she thought of him. And lately, she'd been noticing just how blue his eyes were. She couldn't help herself. She still called him "Master Gabriel", but her feelings for him were far less formal. And yet she tried to keep herself from feeling them.

  She glanced at her ring finger often, and wondered if there were someone waiting for her in a home she couldn't remember. This thought was the only thing that kept her from enjoying this relatively new emotion.

  Despite her resolve to ignore these feelings, she found herself getting nervous at the thought of seeing him, and embarrassed when he caught her staring at him while he read aloud from one of the many books in the library.

  He pretended, as best he could, that he hadn't noticed. He would clear his throat and continue on.

  Why couldn't she control herself? She certainly tried. Maybe it was a lack of memories that led her to it. No ties to an old world, so she was trying to create new ties in this one. She went over it in her head like this, and tried to talk herself out of it. But logic could not conquer the feelings.

  Isabel had been thinking that if only she could spend less time with Mr. Gabriel, maybe she would be cured of this infatuation. She had thought of something that might take her mind off of him for a while. She sat pondering it one morning at breakfast.

  "Valen?"

  "Yes?" he said absently, looking over some papers.