by Karen Dales
His breath caught as he saw that the two young men carried long sticks and the younger of the two women had a smaller version of the same. It was the older of the two women who came defenceless to the glade. Covering his mouth with his hands to stifle the sounds of his terrified breathing, the boy sat staring wide eyed though the flowering branches.
“This is ridiculous, Glenys!” stormed the older girl of fifteen years. Her raven black hair hung long and straight, and her dark eyes flashed angrily. “You know that father does not want you to learn to use the sword.”
The two older boys looked at each other, wondering the same thing and stood waiting. When were these two sisters ever going to stop arguing?
“I don’t care what father wants, Eira. I’m not going back home!” shouted the younger girl. “I’m going to be a Sword Maiden like the stories that Grandmother tells us!” Though she was several years younger than her sister, they were remarkably alike in their looks, and their temperament. “Okay Huw,” she said and twirled around to face the younger of the two boys. She ignored her sibling and held up the wooden sword in hope of finally being taught. “You promised to teach me. Let’s go.”
“Finally!” said the boy with chestnut brown hair that curled playfully to his shoulders. He brought his own waster up to face hers. He was looking forward to giving his foster sister a good lesson in why girls did not learn the sword. She was always a pain. She would not even wear a skirt and demanded to always dress as they did. He could not imagine why his foster father allowed it.
The older girl opened her mouth, closed it and chewed on her lip. No matter what she could say it seemed as though she was going to lose this battle. Glenys had been bothering their father for months now to teach her the sword and every time he forbade it to them both. The Priest made it clear that girls were meant to be in the home. Eira did not believe that, but she did not want to bring dishonour to their family. Ever since their mother passed away when she was just a little girl, Eira’s sole purpose was to try and make her father happy, most of the time it worked. She learned what her Grandmother would teach her. She took care of their home, and when their father was made Chief after her grandfather passed away, she tried to ease his burdens by learning what he knew of ruling his people.
Glenys was not interested. She was always focused upon what she wanted, damning the consequences of her actions. Arguments between father and younger daughter would always end up with Glenys stomping away muttering how their female ancestors would join their men in battle and that they were the true rulers. Their father would shake his head knowing that times had changed and with that they had to change. That meant his family had to grow into the present. It was his fore thinking that convinced the Elders to make him Chief since the old Chief had left no heir. Eira wanted to follow in her father’s footsteps. To make him proud even as Glenys confounded him. If she could not make her younger sister see reason then maybe Glenys would anger Huw enough to give her a good bruising.
Huw and Rhys had come to them two years ago from their cousin, as fosterlings to her father. Rhys was quiet and contemplative, but Huw was brash and unthinking, always looking for a way to prove himself a man. Having her sister ask him to teach her to use the forbidden weapon had stroked his ego, but today was the only day they could practice without the all-watching eye of her father. That meant the practice would cut into the time Rhys and Huw had hoped for themselves. Maybe they would teach Glenys something that would change her mind.
“If you get bruised, don’t come crying to me or Grandmother for a salve,” said Eira coldly as she went to sit by the stream in a billow of grey and brown woollen skirts.
Having enough of the pettiness, the older boy came up to Huw, put a tanned hand upon his friend’s shoulder and mischievously smiled at Glenys. “Give her a quick lesson, smack her hard on the behind and then let’s get to real practice.”
“Aye, Rhys. I’m not here to play with little girls.” Huw gave a knowing wink to the older boy.
“I’m not a little girl!” Glenys swung her wooden sword, making the two boys jump back, but the swing unbalanced her and she spun and fell.
Eira clapped her hands and howled with glee. This was perfect. Even the two boys were laughing.
“Stop laughing!” shouted the girl. Tears threatened to spring from her eyes. The two boys managed to stifle their giggles.
“Thanks, Glenys. I needed a good laugh,” said Huw, wiping tears from his eyes. “You weren’t kidding that you needed lessons.”
Glenys crossed her arms across her flat chest and pouted in hopes that maybe one of them would take pity upon her and finally show her something with the wooden stick. Unfortunately, her magic worked on the wrong boy. Rhys walked over to her, picked up her waster and held out his hand to her.
“If you truly are serious about learning the sword, you are going to have to first learn how to block.”
Her small hand fit into his and she stood, wiping off the loose grass from her breeches. She was small next to him and her smile was radiant.
Huw rolled his eyes and coughed. It seemed he was off the hook to teach his foster father’s daughter. If practice with Rhys was off then he was not unhappy with the prospects of sitting with Eira. She was beautiful. She had to be the most wondrous woman he had ever seen, and though he was only a year younger than her, he already had dreams of the two of them together as man and wife.
Watching Rhys show the proper stances with the waster to her sister, Eira plucked nervously at the grass when Huw came to sit beside her.
Huw sensed her agitated state and remained quiet for a few minutes while he watched Rhys try and teach Glenys how to stand and block with the sword. The sun lit up around them, and he could see the young girl’s face aglow with hunger and excitement. Within a short time the sound of wood hitting wood rang throughout the grove, shortly followed by a smack of wood against skin.
“That’s not fair!” Glenys howled and rubbed her backside while Rhys chuckled, keeping to his balanced stance with sword in hand.
“Life’s not fair, little one,” called Rhys. “Let’s go at it again and I’ll show you where you went wrong.”
The slow dance of bodies and wood began again. This time Glenys thought about what she was doing and took her time.
Huw turned to look at the older of the sisters. The sun glittered blue highlights off her glossy mane and her high firm breasts made him stir. “She’s not that bad at this, aye?”
Torn grass fell from her long, delicate fingers and she looked up with a sigh. Her sister seemed to be holding her own, but they still should not be here. She should be home preparing for when their father returned.
“I guess she’s doing okay. But...”
“What?” Huw leaned closer, her brown eyes drawing him in. He enjoyed hearing her soft melodic voice and he could not believe his luck that she was actually spending time with him rather than getting up and leaving as she tended to do when he came around.
She pulled away when he tried to touch her hand and saw him look down, a frown on his face. Regardless of how she felt about the boy, Eira did not like to be the cause of anyone’s unhappiness.
“I’m sorry, Huw. It’s just that I’m worried.”
The boy looked up, concern on his face. “What about?”
The cat was out of the bag. She had held in her worries for so long, only able to talk with the other women in the village and her Grandmother. It seemed no one else knew what was going on. Maybe her father did, but he did not say anything.
“I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but the village has been going through some very bad luck.” She looked into his hazel eyes, searching for any recognition that he knew what she was talking about.
“What do you mean ‘bad luck’?” He frowned, wondering what this was all about.
She took a deep breath and decided to continue. “Haven’t you noticed all the strange things happening since the Priest came back?”
“What are you talking abou
t, Eira? You always talk in riddles.”
She rolled her eyes. “Okay. You must have noticed the strange things like the milk turning sour as if it came from the cows that way. Things going missing and then turning up in the oddest places. Don’t you remember when Father couldn’t find his newly fletched arrows and the next day they turned up in the cauldron when we all awoke? People in the village are worried, Huw. Ever since Father agreed with the Priest that leaving offerings to the Fay had to stop things have gotten worse.”
“But the Priest and your father are right.” Huw could not understand the strange occurrences and chose to believe what the Priest said at his weekly sermons. “The Priest says the Fay are demons and we have to pray to the Christ to save us. Then the demons will go away.”
She could not believe her ears. The Fay were not demons, as the Priest would like them all to believe. They were part of the land. They gave life to the land and were children of the Goddess just as they were. Eira could not believe such stories of demons, but the Fay were known to cause mischief at times.
“So you believe demons are causing the problems?”
“That’s what the Priest says,” replied the boy, fully believing what he was saying. “The Priest says that we have to drive the Devil out of our village lest the evil becomes worse.”
“And how does the Priest think we can do this?” She was curious as to how much Huw was taken in by this wandering man.
“He says we should pray harder. I don’t believe that.” At last some sense seemed to come from him. “If I had my way it would be with this.” He brandished his waster and then let it drop.
She laughed. “I don’t think a Christian devil would be afraid of that.”
“It would be if the sword was of steel,” he said in all seriousness.
Her laughter was cut short by the coldness in his voice and she was suddenly afraid, knowing that Huw could become a very dangerous man. Eira did not know if she was afraid of him or she was afraid for him, but the fear cut her deep to the bone.
A shout from Rhys turned their attention from the sudden gulf that had expanded between the boy and the girl. Standing up, Huw called back, “What is it?” He was glad for the diversion as he helped Eira to her feet. They went to join Rhys and Glenys under the shade of an old oak tree.
The boy behind the hawthorn stared in horror and tried to get a better look through the leaves and flowers. He could not believe what he was seeing. They had found his belongings! He had sat quietly as he watched the four strangers take over his sacred place and in fascination as the younger girl and the older boy started trying to hit each other with the sticks. The hammering of his heart in his ears made it difficult to hear their conversations while terror kept him rooted in place. Now that they had found the items and the fish he had left behind when he had hidden, the pounding upped its tempo. He tried to swallow but could not. His mouth suddenly went bone dry.
“Someone was here before we came,” he heard the older boy say, looking around for him.
“No one would have just left this stuff,” said the tall girl with the long black hair. “Whoever left it must still be around.”
“I didn’t see anyone when we came here, did any of you?” asked the younger girl.
The other three shook their heads.
The boy let out his breath in relief that he had not been seen, not realizing he had been holding it. He licked his lips nervously and tried to see what was happening.
“Well, no one can just up and disappear,” said the younger boy, who held his stick in a fierce grip. A look fell across his freckled face that made the boy behind the bush shiver. “Eira, you said that someone was causing a lot of mischief in the village.”
“I said the Fay, not someone.”
“Fay, demon, whoever or whatever has been causing all the bad luck could easily disappear, couldn’t they?” He started looking around.
The older girl nodded. “I guess it could. But maybe we should leave this place if it lives here. Maybe it doesn’t like us being here and will cause us more problems.”
“No. I like this place.” A malicious tone crept into his voice. “Maybe if we can flush it out and teach it a lesson it won’t come back to cause more problems for everyone else.”
Hearing this, the boy knew he had to run, now, to get away from this place and never come back. He looked to see how he could get out of the tangle of hawthorn without drawing attention to himself and then glanced back to see what the four were doing. To his horror they had fanned out, looking for him. He had no choice. The younger girl was coming his way. Turning he put his hand down to give him the push needed to get up from his sitting position and was met with a thorn in the fleshy part of his thumb. A cry came unbidden to his lips and pulled the finger long thorn from his hand just in time to have his eyes meet the brown ones of the smaller girl through the bush of flowers and leaves.
She screamed and jumped back, bringing the other three running to her. “It’s in there! I saw it!” She pointed at the spot he was hiding in.
The older boy pointed his long stick at the bush and the boy behind it. “You’d better come out of there if you know what’s good for you.”
The boy sucked on his bleeding hand. He did not know what to do. Everything in him told him to flee, but if he ran they would most likely catch him. Where would he run? He could not go back to Auntie with them hot on his heels. He had waited too long, been too curious and now he had no choice. Swallowing the fear that turned his stomach sick he carefully dislodged himself from the mess of thorny branches and foliage.
“By the Gods!” The older boy’s face grew pale with shock, his sword suddenly hanging limp in his grip, as the sight of the pale creature with red eyes came fully into view.
The boy stared back at the four, easily recognizing fear in all their eyes and looked down at his bare feet. He found it hard to catch his breath, his own fear stealing the air.
The older girl, curiosity in her eyes, took a step towards him, hand outstretched as though to touch him. He backed away before she could come any closer, and fearful ruby eyes met brown. Before she could touch him the younger boy named Huw pulled her away.
“Don’t touch it! My God! The Priest was right! It is a demon!”
The venom in his voice struck the boy as if he had been slapped and his gaze landed upon Huw who was of a height with him.
“Just look at its eyes! No natural eyes are red, and look at its skin and hair - this… this creature is not natural!”
They had not done anything to him - yet, but the boy did not want to wait around to find out what was next. Not with the blatant hostility that the other boy showed him. It was exactly what Auntie told him to expect and to make sure never happened. Fear and drilled in instinct snapped into him and he bolted for the cover of the forest. He did not get far before a hand grabbed his arm and violently swung him around and back into the glade and the sun. Catching his balance in a crouch, he slowly got back to his feet as the other boy back fisted him across the jaw.
The blow sent him reeling and the taste of blood exploded in his mouth before he landed hard on his backside. Auntie had warned something bad would happen if anyone caught him. He had grown up with those same fears, but never, until now, had they become a reality. Her constant predictions were right, no matter how much he had hoped and even dreamed that they were wrong - Auntie was right! In shock he stared as the boy named Huw came at him, stick raised, as the other three yelled after their friend.
“I’ll teach you to cause us problems!” shouted the other boy. “Be gone, demon!”
A flash of brilliant light and pain cracked across his skull before sweet oblivion enfolded him into its embrace.
She stood in horror as the white creature extracted itself from the hawthorn. When she saw his red eyes, her breath caught in her throat.
Was this the creature terrorizing her village?
It must be Fay to have hidden in the mayflowers, she thought.
It sh
ivered in fear. She couldn’t believe her eyes; couldn’t believe he was real.
Did this mean that all the stories that Grandmother told about the Tylwyth Teg were true? It must.
They had found one of the Fay!
Wanting, no needing, to see if he was real, Eira stepped closer, her hand outstretched, but he had stepped back. She could not mistake the terror in his eyes - his beautiful eyes, bright as spilled blood, locked with hers, stirring a deep memory. Did someone say something? She did not know and was suddenly pulled away from the Fay, breaking the spell for both of them.
Unexpectedly, the Fay made its escape towards the forest, but was caught and flung back into the glade. Bright sunlight shone off of his moon pale skin, red blood dripping from its split lip. The violence of the action snapped Eria back to the present. She shouted for Huw to stop. Rhys held her back, shouting words she could not understand. All she knew was that she wanted to protect this creature from Huw’s temper. But it was too late, the waster made from ash connected with the Fay, spilling it onto the ground until it came to rest face down on the green earth.
“Let go of me!” she shouted and shook off Rhys’ tight grip. Ignoring them all, Eira picked up her skirts and ran to the Fay lying prone in the grass, a red puddle starting to form beside its head. “Dear Goddess, what have we done?” she whispered behind her hand.
“Eira, get away from it,” ordered Huw, wiping his waster on the grass. “It won’t be bothering us anymore.”
How could he be so cold? Eira could not believe him. She knew, had always known, Huw had a temper, but she could never imagine such unrestrained violence. She knelt beside the unconscious creature and put her hand to its warm neck as her grandmother had taught her to do and found a faint pulse.
It’s alive! Thank Don! She sighed in relief and caught herself. She had touched a Fay! She wanted desperately to heal it, to care for it – something within her somehow knew this creature. Dare she touch his long white hair? Her hand traveled up its neck and to her amazement found its hair downy soft.
