***
After a dismal meal with two silent sisters instead of a raucous family of six, Neste left the house and headed up the lane. She skirted the barn, walking up the dirt lane to the fountain in the middle of town, swinging an unlit lantern as she went. The sun slid behind the cliffs, silhouetting everything in different shades of gray. Dark, featureless barns and houses crouched like the master’s dog at the foot of his bed. In the near distance, the town grayed into a soft blur. Above it all the sky still held traces of the day’s glow.
Neste reached the cobblestones of the main road that circled the fountain. The nearby shops, shuttered for the night, glowed with lantern light from upstairs rooms where merchants and their families lived. She peered toward the lane leading to the blacksmith shop and hoped her youngest brother was doing well in his apprenticeship.
The fountain consisted of three winged horse statues arranged back to back. Rearing high, their wings sweeping behind them, they represented Rhiannon’s three godlings Aer, Alon, and Ystrad. Water poured from the horses’ mouths, and a pillar topped with flame rose up between them. It was Neste’s favorite place. She sat on the edge of the fountain’s basin and peered up the lane next to the one she’d come down.
Elen hurried toward her from the little house behind Morgan’s barn that she shared with another rider. She, too, wore proper women’s clothing. Her short dark curls peeked from beneath her cap. Breathless, Elen dropped into place next to Neste, handing her a white flower. “Oh, Neste, you’ll never guess!” she gasped.
“If it’s that exciting, you’d better tell me even before you catch your breath!” Neste took the white flower with a smile. It was more than just a flower, this tradition between them. This one would go into the pewter tankard with the others.
Elen put a hand on her friend’s arm and leaned forward. “I’m to fly an aerial pairs dance with Morgan.”
Neste laughed. “Of course you are, you ninny! Everyone knows there’s magic between the two of you. I predict a long string of victories ahead. Someday I’ll be telling my grandchildren I remember a time before Morgan and Elen flew the pairs dance!”
“But I’m so nervous!” wailed Elen.
Neste stopped laughing and took both her friend’s hands into hers. “Elen, you love Morgan so much he is sure to notice soon. Pour all that love into the dance, and you’ll be unstoppable.”
“Diolch, Neste. You always know what to say.” Then her face lightened. “Oh! How did your practice go today in the group dance?”
Wrinkling her nose, Neste replied, “Adam did a bit better, but Hoel is losing patience. I think I might try to talk to Adam, see if I can give him some pointers or something.”
“That would be your proper place as future wife to the barn leader,” Elen teased. “Adam’s gorgeous, though. Will Hoel be able to control his jealousy?”
Neste made a face. “I can handle him. Adam needs the help, and Hoel will appreciate it if he improves.”
“Just make sure Adam doesn’t smile at you too much.”
Neste knew what Elen meant. All the girls around the barn swooned over Adam’s good looks and brilliant smile. She tried to be indifferent, but he really did have a nice smile. That shouldn’t be what she thought about though. Her father’s last wish betrothed her to Hoel. She must honor that.
The fountain splashed. The two friends sat in companionable silence. All around them the lanterns in Tremeirchson’s windows brightened as the last trickle of daylight disappeared behind the rugged Welsh mountains, turning the massive peak of Yr Wydda purple before drenching it in darkness.
Wings Over Tremeirchson Page 2
