Wings Over Tremeirchson
Page 7
Chapter 4: Morgan
She left the stall and headed for the takeoff area, where Isabella held a saddled Llawen’s reins. Late meeting Adam for their extra practice, her feet dragged with reluctance. These extra sessions weren’t paying off as well as she’d hoped. She should tell Adam so and stop wasting their time, but he looked at her so hopefully each time they met she couldn’t give up. The grand performance of the Humminghorse Dance was three days away. Tomorrow they would all bow and scrape to patrons arriving from Merioneth and fly the elegant Dance of Welcome that opened the Games. All nine barns would have horses in the air.
Neste smiled as she remembered the sight from the ground. As a child she’d climbed up on the basin of the fountain and leaned her head back so far she almost fell. Above her head the horses soared in a blaze of brown, white, black and cream. She’d loved the whisper of wings and the fluttering manes and tails, all accompanied by the trumpet fanfare from the ground. With her father, they’d searched for her mother’s horse and cheered. And now Neste rode in the Dance for Marc’s barn. It swelled her heart with pride, knowing that below her on the ground another generation of children admired Llawen.
Her smile disappeared when she exited the barn and saw Adam chatting with Isabella, who held Llawen. Isabella’s long hair was tied back instead of in its usual disarray, and she beamed at Adam. Neste knew how she felt. Adam was easy to be around. A silly smile found its way to her face, and she hurried to him.
When he spotted Neste, though, he looked miserable. “Bore da,” she greeted him, trying not to sound grim.
Adam nodded to her and twisted Mallt’s reins in his hand. “Last practice. Hope a miracle occurs.”
“You and Mallt have worked hard. You really are getting better.”
He shook his head. “It won’t be good enough.”
“Positive attitude now,” she scolded him. “Mallt will sense your mood. Be confident.”
“Right.” He set his mouth in a tense line and swung aboard his mare.
Neste patted Llawen on the nose and took the reins from Isabella. Once in the saddle, she motioned Adam to proceed. For an hour they put Mallt through the routine. Neste tried to inspire Adam to greatness and fell short. He moved woodenly through the dance, which made Neste want to cry with frustration. His positions were perfect, though, and that was an improvement even if the flow between them was choppy.
Mallt and Llawen glided in to land. More tired than usual after the practice session, Neste groaned when she saw Hoel in the yard. He stared into the sky, his legs stiff and feet apart, hands on his hips. She urged Llawen to walk next to Mallt and hissed at Adam, “Keep your head up. Be proud of your extra effort! You have improved greatly.”
“Do you really think so?” Adam squared his shoulders, lifted his chin, and shook the blond hair out of his eyes. “I thought I had, but it’s important to hear you say so.”
Hoel snatched the reins of both horses and stood between their heads. The massive wings folded back along their bodies so Neste and Hoel could dismount. Mallt blocked her, so Neste swung down on the off side of the horse and came around to wrest the reins from Hoel. His attention, of course, focused on Adam.
Hoel’s eyes flashed dangerously, but in a carefully measured tone, he said, “Nicely flown, Adam. Your extra effort is beginning to pay off. Why don’t you take Mallt inside now?”
Adam’s eyes flew wide with shock at the praise, and he beamed as he raced for the barn, dragging the mare after him.
Hoel turned to Neste. “There. I was nice. Is that what you wanted?”
Neste smiled. “Diolch, cariad.”
“Now tell me how that tanner’s son is really doing.” Contempt oozed from his voice and Neste’s smile disappeared.
“He’s getting better.” Neste hesitated. She couldn’t voice the slightest doubt. It was important for Adam to do well in the dance. He needed to succeed at something in the air or she feared he would sink even deeper into the darkness that threatened to swallow him.
“Not better enough to ride in the dance.”
“Na, na, he’ll be fine. Really, Hoel, you must let him fly it. He’s worked so very hard. It’s important to him that he do well.” Neste blanched a little at the lie. She knew Adam didn’t care about much of anything to do with the dance. Nevertheless, a successful execution of the dance would revitalize him.
Hoel nodded. “We’ll see how he does in your practice with him tomorrow morning. Then after the Dance of Welcome we can practice the dance with four horses if we need to.” Without waiting for her reply, he turned and walked away.
Isabella hurried up to take Llawen from Neste, who stared after Hoel with trepidation freezing her soul. Slowly she turned away from the barn and its associated problems and headed home.
Unlike the barn, where everyone bustled about in anticipation of tomorrow’s events, Neste’s home remained quiet. With Glynis occupied in the kitchen, she slipped into her Mum’s room. Her mother lay motionless, staring out the window.
“How was your day, Mum?”
A wan smile flitted across her face. “The usual, cariad. You’re the one with the exciting days. Tell me how it went.”
Mum looked tired. Neste sat on the bed and searched her mind for something to say. Her brain fixated on Hoel and Adam. Before she could think about her words, she blurted out, “Why did Da betroth me to Hoel? I mean, I know he will be barn leader…” Her voice trailed off.
“Your father never cared about status. He believed Hoel would always take care of you.” Neste felt her mother’s eyes examine her face. “Did something happen?”
Neste struggled to control her face, but her eyes welled with tears. “Adam has been so nice.” She swallowed and wiped her eyes before they spilled over. “I wish Hoel wasn’t so jealous.” She felt like she was betraying her father’s dying wish.
“Oh, Neste.” She squeezed Neste’s hand. “I know Marc better than his son, I’m afraid. Marc is a good leader, a good man. Are you saying Hoel is not a good man?”
Neste shook her head. “Na, na. He’s good to me. His visions of the barn’s future are strong, and he’s determined to see those visions through. He can be sharp with the riders, though, especially the good-looking men.”
“And how do you feel?”
“I’m confused.” She sighed. “I love talking with Hoel about his dreams, and I take pleasure in being the one the riders come to when their horses are injured or sick.” She hesitated. “But when I’m with Adam I smile more.”
“Are you saying you want to break the betrothal?”
Mum had always been able to keep a neutral tone that encouraged confidences rather than arguments. “I can’t, Mum. This betrothal was Da’s dying wish. It’s a betrayal of him to break it.”
“Neste, listen to me. You may not believe this, but parents aren’t perfect. We do the best we can for our children, making decisions every day about the path their lives will take. Your father and I had our vision of how the five of you would go, but our choices didn’t always turn out the way we planned. We never intended for Niall to live in Merioneth. If your father were alive, he would be willing to rethink your betrothal if that’s what you really wanted.”
“Are you giving me permission to encourage Adam?” Neste couldn’t keep the surprise out of her voice.
“I’m giving you permission to follow your heart. What can Adam offer you besides smiles? People grow and change. You never know in advance exactly how they will turn out. Hoel may yet learn to be a barn leader. Adam will ride for him. Can you push away the leader in order to encourage a man who rides for him? Have you discussed this with Adam?”
“Oh, na!” Shock sharpened Neste’s voice. “Of course not! I am loyal to Hoel. My betrothal means more to me than that.”
“Then the only advice I can give you is to follow your heart. I will help you as best I can.”
“Diolch, Mum.” Neste kissed her mother goodnight.
In the doorway, she watched Mu
m’s gaze return to the garden outside the window. Her mother looked more careworn and tired than when Neste had first come in. Breaking her betrothal could not be done lightly.