Vireo (A Tale of Ice and Oaks)

The maid almost bumped into her where she stood leaning against the wall. “Oh,” the young woman said. “Are you standing here? Aren’t you cold?” Vireo met the girl’s big pale eyes and smiled. Maybe she would bed this girl, simply to annoy the innkeeper, who always looked at her with disgust. “Perhaps you could bring me a cup of that hot wine you serve to keep me warm.”  The maid looked down for a moment and then she met Vireo’s eyes again. “Perhaps I could,” she said and reached out her hand. Vireo dropped a few coins in the outstretched hand and the maid walked back into the warm tavern.

She hated the cold, she hated the snow, and she hated the ice. She hated the bare trees, the frozen ground and the grey skies. Her southern blood wasn’t made for this kind of weather.  Rubbing her hands and banging her feet together didn’t help keep the cold away anymore. Why wasn’t he here yet? How could he be late when he lived the closest? Logically, she would be the one who should be late, she had further to travel. The door to the tavern opened and the maid came out again. Her cheeks were flushed and her hair curly from the moist heat. She held a big metal cup in her hand. The steam from the cup rose in spirals.

Vireo put the cup to her lips and breathed in the smell of the wine, the honey and the spices. The wine would spread its heat in her body, from the bottom of her belly to her toes.  She took a careful sip, so to not burn her tongue. The wine landed in her belly, reached out its tentacles and thawed her blood.  The next time she lifted her head from the cup she saw him.

His dark grey coat dragged along the ground and he limped slightly on his right leg. In company he always told a tale about how he had been injured in a battle but she knew he had fallen off his horse as a boy and a branch had pierced his thigh. The right leg never grew as long as the left.  Sometimes at night he would wake up with pain and she would put her hand over the scar and massage it. As he came closer the Ouroboros tattooed on her back started to burn. “You are my commencement and my conclusion,” he often said to her. She sniggered when he said this and made fun of his schooling in the monastery.  And still during one unbearable separation she had walked to the tattoo master. After hours upon hours she walked out with a pitch-black Ouroboros on her back. 

The young princess and her court in the capital, often spoke of love. Vireo walked a few steps behind, always on guard, but she still heard the words. They spoke of true love. They spoke of how empty it must be to not have love in your life. Sometimes Vireo wanted to tell the young girls to enjoy the freedom of not loving someone. Because if she had known how painful it would be she would have told her heart to not love. Or perhaps it wasn’t the love that hurt but the absence and the longing.  But by now it was all so intertwined she couldn’t separate them anymore.

He was almost by the tavern door when he saw her. For a moment they stood quietly and looked at each other. In the winter evening his blue eyes looked almost green. “You are late,” she said and walked by him and opened the door. They stepped into a wall of sticky, beer smelling warmness. “I know,” he said low, “and for this I apologize, my…” She put up her hand to stop him from talking. “You know how I hate when you call me my lady.” He smiled his crooked Quasimodo smile and said, “Almost as much as when I call you my songbird.” Vireo huffed discontent. “I have told you my mother and father did what they thought best.”  Her parents, the gentle fruit farmers, who named all their children after birds. How could they have known their songbird daughter with the peppercorn eyes actually was a warrior?

“Andreas!” The innkeeper came wobbling over to them. He didn’t look at her but greeted Andreas with great enthusiasm. “How are you? Oh, this weather! When will spring come?” She had never truly understood the relationship between the two men. But there was deep trust and affection between them. And this was the only place they dared to meet.  “Your room is ready for you. Will you dine first?”

Andreas looked over at her and she shook her head. “No,” he said to the innkeeper, “a tray will make do.” The plump man nodded eagerly and snapped his fingers. Another maid showed up and he gave her orders to bring a tray to their room.

In the far end of their room a fire was set in the hearth. She took off her wool mantel and dropped it on the chair, pulled off her gloves and shoes and walked up to the fire.  She unbuckled her sword and sat down and held her hands and feet as close to the flames as she dared. She heard Andreas move around behind her, then his presence came closer to her. The Ouroboros on her back burned.  He put a hand on her shoulder. “How have you been?” he asked kindly.

How do you survive months without the one you love? She did what the snakes do. She let her heartrate go down and all her feelings went into hibernation, until anger was the only thing left. “I can’t,” she said and pushed away his hand. “I know,” he said and stood up. The sound of metal against leather was unmistakable to her. He had pulled his sword. Fast as the bird she was named after, she got to her feet with sword in hand.

He was only about five inches taller than her but of course stronger compared to her slender build. But what he had in strength she had in agility. Their sword skills and character were even. Perhaps the years he had on her had softened his temper slightly.

“How is the Capital?” he asked and swung at her. She blocked his attempt and moved a few feet away.

“Beautiful and shallow as usual.” She lunged forward and hit him hard on the shoulder with the flat side of her sword. “And warmer than this goddess forsaken place.”

Andreas laughed but she could see in his eyes that he was in full battle mode. “If you would rather we wait until spring…” He stopped talking and swung forcefully at her. She felt the impact on her sword all the way up in her shoulders. Wait until spring…The words aggravated her. Speed was her friend and she moved to his side and before he could react she had hit him a few times on his back and was able to slap him with her hand on the top of his head. She moved to the other side of the room and stared at him.

“Wait until spring…so you have more time up there in that fortress with the prince and his maids.” She didn’t like the tone of her own voice but it was too late now, the words had already been spoken.  True anger flashed across his face and when he spoke his voice was a deep growl. “You know.” He moved closer to her with his sword ready. “You know!” The blows were harder than before and she had to back away from him. Soon the room ended and she stood with her back against the wall. He glared at her. “You know. Besides I am not the one who…” A knock on the door made him move his head to the side and she bent down away from him and dashed to the other side of the room.  Andreas opened the door and let the maid in. The young woman carried a tray and looked at them with prying eyes.  She put the tray on the table and left.

Vireo walked up to the table and grabbed one of the mugs with mead. This inn was famous for their mead; it was sweet and fragrant and had a dark purple hue from the blackberries that grew all over the hills and cliffs. Andreas still stood by the other wall and then slowly he walked up to the table and grabbed a mug himself.

To be chosen to be the part of the Royal Guard was an honor bestowed on few. Only the most skillful and trusted sword wielders were picked.  After days of trials and combat she had been chosen to protect the young princess Lavender. And the first day when she watched over the girl in the Royal Oak grove she had met Andreas. He had been guarding the teenage prince for five of his commissioned fifteen years. Slowly a warm friendship grew between them, both of them careful, a Royal Guard is forbidden to love or marry. A Royal Guard’s loyalty solely belongs to the Crown. For fifteen years they had promised, signed in blood to be faithful to the Crown.

There was something with this friendship they cultivated. An amber. Every time she saw Andreas this amber flickered to life. One early summer day, the oak trees carried bright green leaves and the sky was lustrous blue, she was off duty and laid on her back in the grass in the Royal Oak grove. A vireo sat on a branch above her head and sang. She was about to doze off when she felt footsteps transmit through her body. Irregular and calm. She opened her eyes and sat up; Andreas stood next to her and smiled. She got up on her feet and leaned against the oak. “Where is the prince?” He stepped closer to her. “I have been on duty for three weeks. The king told me to…” Andreas laughed. “He actually said ‘get drunk and laid.’   Vireo looked down at her bare feet for moment then she lifted her head and met Andreas’ eyes. “The drunk part I can’t help you with.” She could tell how he didn’t understand at first, and then the realization sunk in.

She had kissed plenty of women and men but this was different. This kiss was mead and chocolate. This kiss was thunder and rain. This kiss was her mother’s caress and the ground under her feet. This kiss was sun on her skin and fire in her groin. And now five years later this was still different.

She put the mug back on the table and waited for him to do the same. Then both of them picked up their swords again and continued to fight around the room.  How do you rekindle love? First she had to break through the anger that lay around her heart. A steel armor to protect her from the sorrow of being apart. With every blow and lunge. With every hit and swing. They chipped away. Eventually they stood panting, sweat pouring down their backs, bruised and sore.

Andreas left the room and Vireo grabbed the mug with mead again. She took several deep gulps then she cut herself a piece of cheese and some smoked sausage. Her body ached but her heart was alive.

Andreas came back followed by two young men who carried a big wooden tub. They placed it in the middle of the floor and filled it with warm water. When they left Vireo got undressed and stepped in. Slowly she lowered her body into the water. “Are you coming?” she asked, feeling close to shy for a moment. He got undressed and stepped into the water with his back towards her. They always did the same thing. A ritual to find their way back to each other. She took the brush and the soap, rubbed them together until she had a thick lather. Started to work on his shoulders. Scrubbed them, felt his skin under her fingers, smooth and slippery. He sighed as she scrubbed her way across his back with the brush. When his whole back was clean she rinsed him off with her hands. Moved close to his body, put her arms around his neck, her head on his shoulder. Whispered into his ear. “I hate you!” The words said one thing, her voice another.