“I don’t know the story yet, but doesn’t this lead somehow to the beginning of a war between our people? How can that be good?” said the young She’Har.
“It wasn’t,” I admitted. “It was the darkest, most violent time in human or She’Har history, but if it had happened differently humanity would have gone extinct, although it might have been considered good from your people’s perspective.” I took a deep breath, “Let me tell you the rest and you’ll understand. Try not to judge Daniel too harshly, though.”
“He hasn’t done anything really bad,” said Moira.
“Yet,” I said bluntly.
Matthew tapped my arm, “Wait, before you start. Daniel is the hero right?”
“What does that mean?” I asked him.
He gave me a look of such honest trust that I felt unworthy, “Like you. He’s a good guy, right?”
“I’m not a hero, son, and Tyrion certainly wasn’t either. He wanted to be good, but that wasn’t what fate had in store for him, and looking at his memories, I can only feel grateful that things worked out as well as they did for me,” I answered.
“You said ‘Tyrion’ again,” observed my daughter. “But you’ve been telling us about someone named Daniel. Are they the same person?”
“The names will make sense later. Let me start again…”
***
Another month passed and summer gave way to autumn. Daniel had managed to avoid any further trips to visit the Sayers, although Kate had visited their house twice during that time.
It had been difficult for Daniel to keep up a cheerful façade when she was there, but he had done his best, and now the day of the harvest festival was at hand. Everyone would be there, all the townsfolk and every farmer who lived in the hills for miles around.
The plan was for Daniel and his parents to take the wagon by the Sayers’ house on their way. Brenda would then ride with his parents while Daniel walked there with Kate.
Alan and Helen Tennick were dressed in their finest, in clothes that they probably hadn’t worn since the last festival. Daniel’s own clothes were just a newer version of his usual, fancy clothes being too expensive to waste on people who would soon grow out of them. These would become his work clothes as the year wore on, to be replaced by a new set when autumn came again next year.
He rode in silence on the back of the wagon, wondering how he would manage to get through the evening. Since the ‘incident’, every minute he spent with Kate was an exercise in guilt. He doubted he could bear to hear the optimism in her voice, the hope. She still believed that they had a future, while all he could see ahead was a black slide into despair.
Brenda called him into the house when they arrived, ostensibly to give him some motherly instruction regarding her daughter, but when they were alone she gave him a hostile glare. “Don’t get any ideas, Daniel. This dance is the end of it. You’ll never marry my daughter, so the courting ends here. Do you understand?”
The look of barely suppressed fury in her eyes surprised him. Is she jealous of her own child? It also brought out his own anger.
“Is it that wrong? I love her. None of this was my choice,” he bit back.
Her hand flew up suddenly, as if she might strike him, but she kept herself in check at the last moment. “Don’t test me, Daniel. This is all you are to me, and that will never go near my daughter. I’ll tell her the truth myself first, before I let that happen.” As she spoke, she made a vulgar gesture downward, indicating the region beneath his belt.
Daniel stood nearly six feet now, and his body had become steadily more muscular. Despite Brenda’s words he towered over her, and for a moment he was almost overcome with rage. He wanted to hit her, to wipe the sneer from her face. It was only the thought of his parents, waiting outside with Kate that kept him from striking her down right then.
“Never again!” he growled into her face, making sure she understood the double meaning of his words. Then he turned away to go back outside.
“Smile, Daniel. Remember, you’re supposed to be happy!” she told him as she followed him out the door.
He and Kate rode in the back of the wagon instead of walking separately. Another of Brenda’s suggestions, one he had agreed with despite Kate’s unspoken objection and his parent’s puzzled looks. It seemed easier, since he wouldn’t have to worry about probing questions from Kate while their parents were close by.
“I hear they built a huge bonfire this year,” said Kate companionably. She was sitting next to him, leaving barely an inch between them, and Daniel could feel her mother’s eyes boring into his back.
“Yeah.”
Kate’s eyes watched him curiously, aware that he was still in some sort of unusual mood. “The musicians are coming from Dereham. They have a ten man band. Can you imagine that many instruments playing together at once? It seems like it would be chaos.”
“I’m sure they practice together a lot.” He tried to put some enthusiasm in his voice, but he was a poor actor.
She didn’t fail to notice. “What’s wrong?” she asked finally.
Daniel let his mind open slightly, giving him a view of the adults that rode ahead of them. They were still facing forward, but he knew Kate’s mother would be listening closely to their every word. “I’ve just had a lot on my mind lately,” he said, improvising. He wanted to shout, to leap from the wagon, taking Kate with him. If only they could run away, escape from what he had done.
It was too late for that, though. No matter how far they ran, eventually he would have to tell her the truth. She could never love him after that, no one could.
“Such as?” she said, startling him from his dark reverie.
“It’s not important,” he replied, though he could tell his refusal to talk had hurt her. There was nothing else he could say.
At the festival there were numerous games and even a play before the crowd eventually settled down to serious eating and drinking. Through it all Daniel found himself feeling steadily more trapped. Brenda Sayer was there at every turn, never far from hearing them; always offering reasonable suggestions to prevent them from finding time alone.
It wasn’t until the sun had fallen and the bonfire was lit that he had his first chance to speak to Kate without anyone listening to them. The eating was done, and the music had begun. A large area had been cleared around the bonfire, except for a small platform that the musicians played from.
Kate smiled at him as the first song started, stealing his breath once again as he saw the firelight shimmering in her eyes. “I believe this is what we have been waiting for,” she said softly, leaning in toward his ear.
He could feel her breath then, she was so close. This at least, was one thing he knew he could do for her. Returning her smile with his own, he led her out with the other couples. His mother’s practice sessions had been fruitful, and he felt completely at ease as he took one hand in his own and placed his other on her waist.
She seemed somewhat surprised at his confidence, and as their steps moved in time with the music, it felt to her as though the shadow that had been over him had finally lifted. Laughing she let him twirl and whirl her in and out among the other couples.
“I’ve missed you, Daniel,” she whispered as the next song began. This was a slower melody, and he had pulled her closer. She was resting her head against his shoulder now.
“I never went anywhere,” he responded.
Her face drew closer, nuzzling his neck for a moment, “There’s been a distance. I could feel it. I don’t know what it was, but it scared me. It felt like you were leaving.”
At that moment he wanted nothing more than to comfort her, to reassure her that he was the same Daniel she had grown up with. “I wish I could stay with you forever,” he said without thinking.
She squeezed him tighter, until there was no space between them. “It feels so good to hear that. You have no idea the thoughts I’ve had, or the things mother said, but I never doubted you.”
He stiffened
, “What did she say?”
“I was worried, because you seemed so depressed, so distant. So I asked mother about it…” Kate began.
“Asked her what?” said Daniel, feeling the anger building again.
“Nothing specific, just about men in general, but she knew I meant you,” said Kate. “She said that often when a man seems distant it means he’s found someone else. She tried to be gentle, but I think she was afraid you might break my heart.”
His eyes went wide, spilling unbidden tears down his cheeks, but he held her close so she wouldn’t see them. A tap on his shoulder distracted him, but he managed to wipe his face before anyone noticed.
“Mind if I cut in?” said Seth, grinning from ear to ear. He had accepted his defeat gracefully, but he was determined to get at least a few dances. They were all still friends after all.
“Not at all,” said Daniel, stepping away. Watching her swing away in Seth’s arms, he felt the darkness closing around him. Like a bad dream, Brenda appeared beside him.
“You haven’t forgotten what I told you, have you?” she asked quietly.
“No.” He didn’t bother looking at her.
“Seth would be a good match for her,” noted the older woman. “She’ll get over you in time.”
Daniel’s throat felt as if it were swelling shut, and he fought the urge to throttle the woman next to him.
After a few minutes Kate returned to him and drew him out amongst the revelers once more. She felt the change in him immediately, though. “What’s wrong?”
“It’s what we were talking about before,” he said, trying not to gag on the words. Through the crowd he could see her mother staring at him.
“What about it?”
“About the distance…”
Kate didn’t reply, but she grew still in his arms.
“What your mother said...,” he began.
She swallowed, keeping her face against his neck so that he couldn’t see the sudden pain in her eyes. “Are you suggesting that there’s someone else?”
It felt as if someone had thrust a spear through his heart. The pain was sudden and intense, almost physical. “I’ve made a terrible mistake, Kate. I’m not who you think I am, and I’m not worthy of you, not at all.”
She was trembling now, like a sapling in a winter storm. At first she couldn’t speak, but when she did her words surprised him, “You said a mistake. If it was a mistake, I could forgive that.”
The sudden possibility of forgiveness was something he had never considered, but he knew it was an empty dream. A girl, maybe, but not your mother, no one could forgive that.
“I’m no good for you, Cat.”
Her hands were gripping his shoulders now, desperate. “Whatever’s wrong, Daniel, you can trust me. I’m strong. Trust me to forgive,” she hesitated before continuing. “I love you.”
Overwhelmed he pulled her close, squeezing hard to stop his own chest from heaving. He wanted to believe, but over her shoulder he could see her mother, watching. “I just don’t feel the same, Cat,” he answered, pushing her away, unable to hide his tears.
“That’s a lie!” she cried, almost shouting. “I know you better than that.”
He backed away while she stared at him in disbelief. After a few steps he could handle it no longer, and he turned away to avoid her wounded gaze. A few steps more and he was running through the crowd.
As he ran, he heard her shout one more time, “That’s a lie!”
***
He waited in the darkness, near his parents’ wagon. Daniel planned to tell them before he walked home, otherwise they might spend hours searching for him.
Seth found him first.
“I talked to Kate,” said his friend.
Daniel only nodded.
“Were you serious?” Seth asked.
“Does it matter?” remarked Daniel.
“Damn right it does!” argued Seth, beginning to grow angry with Daniel’s attitude. “I’d kill to have Kate look at me like that, and you’re just going to toss her away?”
Daniel’s answer came to him from the darkness of his soul, “You’d make a good match for her. Someday she’ll forget about me.” It was only later that he would remember where he first heard those words, but he had no chance to recall just then.
Sudden pain shot through his jaw as Seth’s fist came around in a vicious hook. The blow caught him off-guard, and he fell heavily to the ground.
“You bastard! I hope the wardens take you!” cursed his one-time friend.
Daniel didn’t respond, but he silently agreed, me too.
Chapter 9
Winter came and with it the biting cold that made life in the hills both majestic and profoundly uncomfortable. In the past Daniel had often looked forward to it as a time with less work to do. They stockpiled hay through the summer, and once the snows came they stopped taking the sheep out to graze. His work usually lasted only through the morning then and sometimes not even that long. Once the animals had been fed and watered, the majority of his work was done, leaving him with far too much time to think.
In past years he and Seth would see each other more often during the less hectic afternoons, but there were no visits that winter. He didn’t expect to see Kate, of course, but the loss of his only other friend hit him deeply.
His parents didn’t understand what had happened at the harvest festival, but they accepted it as a result of youthful passions. Helen was still upset, though. She had long favored Kate, and now she saw that her hopes of having her for a daughter-in-law appeared to have vanished.
Although they had taught Daniel to read they had no books at home. Most of the farmers and herders in the valley were illiterate. The only people who needed to read were those who kept stores in town, so reading wasn’t common. As a consequence, their only entertainment during those months was music and conversation.
Alan Tennick was a marvelous storyteller, but they had already heard all of his tales. He improvised new ones, but they still grew stale quickly. Daniel spent long periods simply playing the cittern. Where he had practiced before, now he lived with the instrument, using it to fill every waking moment that he was free from chores. His already rough hands developed tough callouses where his fingers touched the strings.
Months passed and his inner pain seemed to ease somewhat. He still felt the loss keenly, but it was as though a scar had formed over his heart, dulling the sensations. Daniel saw Kate constantly while playing, and even more vividly while dreaming, but the sharp emotions evoked by the memories no longer hurt as much.
As spring poked its head around the corner, Daniel’s mother asked him to make a trip in to Colne. The lower parts of the valley were warmer and the farmers there should be bringing in their first small harvests of spring vegetables. They were all looking forward to fresh foods again.
When Daniel finally stopped the wagon in front of the general store run by Tom and Alice Hayes, he felt some discomfort at the thought of going inside. While Mr. and Mrs. Hayes had always been courteous and easy to talk to, their son was a different matter. Aston and Daniel had never been friends.
Aston hadn’t grown as much as Daniel over the past year, so he no longer found the other boy intimidating, but he never looked forward to seeing him. He still couldn’t understand how two such seemingly kind people as Alice and Tom, could produce such a miserable ass of a son.
Alice Hayes looked up from a table as he entered. She was stacking and organizing dry goods to make room for the newer items that would soon be filling the store. “Good morning, Daniel!” she greeted him with a friendly smile.
Daniel ducked his head briefly as he walked in, “Ma’am.”
Mrs. Hayes was blond, much like her son, although on her it was a much more appealing color. At thirty-five she was still attractive, though not excessively so. Aston was the youngest of her three children, the other two having already left home.
Daniel glanced around, wondering whether he would have to tolerate Asto
n’s glares while they discussed business. Fortunately the other teenager was nowhere in sight.
“Are you looking for Aston?” said Alice amiably. She seemed to have no awareness of their mutual dislike. “He went with his father to negotiate with Mr. Grath. He’s almost ready to bring in his first cabbages. He probably won’t be back for a few hours.”
“No ma’am,” said Daniel promptly, “Mom sent me to see if you had fresh scallions yet, or any fresh greens.”
Alice smiled, despite her pleasant appearance and soft demeanor she was an excellent businesswoman, which was why her husband left her in charge of the store most days. “We don’t have any greens yet, but we do have scallions. We also got some fresh peas yesterday. I’m sure your mother would like those.”
Daniel nodded, “How much?”
“For the peas, an eighth of a bale per bushel, for the scallions a tenth,” she answered immediately.
The people of the valley didn’t have money, so all transactions were handled by barter. The Hayes were frequently at the center of that, performing a function almost like a bank in that they traded on credit and kept a ledger of what had been brought in and what had been sold. The previous summer’s shearing had been a good one, and Daniel’s family had a significant amount of credit at the store, recorded by the number of wool bales they had brought in.
But the price for the peas was excessive. While still young, Daniel knew that last year they had bought peas for only a tenth of a bale. “That seems like too much,” he told her.
She shrugged, “They haven’t brought much in yet. The price will drop in a few weeks I’m sure, but for now…”
A surge of irritation ran through Daniel. He was older now, halfway to sixteen, but it was clear that Alice thought she could treat him like a child. As his emotions shifted, the door in his mind opened again, and he saw the world again in that strange state of hyperawareness. He ignored it for a moment, more intent on their exchange.
“We’ve been coming here for years Mrs. Hayes. I don’t think my parents would be happy with that price. It doesn’t seem fair,” he replied, hiding his annoyance.
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