He glanced up to see Quillan heading for the door. Urgency built in his throat; what if Quillan really was angry with him? Eyan could not bear the thought of it. He rose and set his mug aside, determined to make restitution, then shouldered through the crowd and worked his way toward the exit.
Eyan stepped outside and looked right, then left, catching sight of Quillan’s blue tunic rounding the corner of the barn. He hustled after him and soon found himself beyond the security of the light from the party. He thought to call out Quillan’s name before the boy got too far, but before he could say a word, Quillan disappeared to the back.
Eyan followed and stepped around the corner, then stopped and retreated a step or two. Quillan, he realized, was but a few feet away, relieving his bladder onto the timbers of the barn.
Eyan pressed his back against the side, attempting to give the boy some privacy, but in what seemed like an instant, a fist grabbed hold of his collar and yanked him around the corner. With a shove, Eyan’s cheekbone was slammed against the wall, his left arm twisted painfully at his back. A muscular forearm pressed against his neck.
“You watchin’ me?” Quillan demanded.
“No,” Eyan cried. “I—I was just waitin’ for ye.”
“Waitin’ for me?” The pressure on his neck increased.
“I—I’m sorry,” Eyan sputtered. “I was waitin’ for ye to finish.”
Quillan shoved his full weight against Eyan’s body, pinning every limb to the wall. “I know what ye are,” Quillan hissed.
Eyan struggled to escape, but he was no match against Quillan. “I don’t know what ye mean.”
“Ye said you were waitin’ for me,” Quillan said. “Why?”
“I wanted to—,”
“To what?”
“To apologize.”
“For what? Workin’ your spells on me?”
Eyan’s heart flew into a panic. What did Quillan mean, working his spells? Spell work was forbidden. Everyone knew that. “I—I don’t know what ye mean,” he stammered.
Quillan shoved a knee into Eyan’s lower spine. The pain nearly sent Eyan’s legs out from under him.
“I’ve heard what your kind do,” Quillan said. “Demons ensorcel people into wanting ‘em, that’s what I hear. I’m not talkin’ the normal kind of want, mind ye. I’m talkin’ the forbidden kind, the perverted kind.”
Tears pricked Eyan’s eyes. He blinked them back.
“You’ve been castin’ your spell on me all evenin’, haven’t ye,” Quillan said. He pressed his lips to Eyan’s ear, his warm breath coiling into it. “I’ll show ye what happens to demons that look my way.”
“Please,” Eyan said. “I won’t look at ye again. I swear it.”
Eyan closed his eyes, tensing for the inevitable blow, but suddenly the weight of Quillan’s body evaporated. Eyan opened his eyes to see the boy being lifted by the back of his collar, dangling before him by a man nearly twice his size—Brenainn!
“Now watcha doin’ there, tryin’ to take advantage of a poor boy who can’t be knowin’ much about this world, includin’ the likes o’you?” Brenainn said.
Quillan struggled until at last Brenainn set him on his feet. But the Chieftain kept a firm grip on his collar.
“I’m not the evil one—he is!” Quillan cried, pointing a shaky finger at Eyan. “He ensorcelled me. He did!”
“D’ya think I was born yesterdee, ye kit!” Brenainn said.
“It’s true,” Quillan insisted. “He’s been givin’ me the evil eye all night. I came outside to do my business, is all, and the next thing I know he’s ensorcelled me to—to—”
“To wha’? Assault him agin’ the wall? I seem to recall ‘im beggin’ ye to stop. Ye do know wha’ stop means, don’ ye?”
“I swear. It wasn’t me! It was—”
“Who? Yer mother’s gre’ mare?” Brenainn yanked Quillan’s face within an inch of his own. “Now I say ye get yeerself on away now an leave this here lad alone. Cos iffen ye don’, I’ll be payin’ yer da a visit right quick. Or better yet, mebe I’ll be payin’ yon lady Olwyn a visit first.”
“You wouldn’t!” Quillan said.
“Aye, I would. Just try me an’ see.” Brenainn released his hold on Quillan’s collar, shoving him back a step. “Now off with ye, ye scoundrel, before ye learn wa a real man can do.” Brenainn grabbed hold of his wide belt buckle and gave it a tug.
Quillan’s eyes grew three sizes; he spun and double-stepped around the corner, flinging mulch in his wake.
Brenainn roared with laughter. “Ye wouldin’ know what to do with a man my size, ye kit!” he called after him, then laughed even louder than before.
Eyan continued to cower, speechless, against the wall. He had no clue what had just transpired, and was at a complete loss as to how to respond.
Brenainn turned to him. He narrowed his eyes and cocked his head. “So ye ensorcelled the lad, eh?”
“No!” Eyan blurted. “I—I don’t know what he means.”
“Don’ ye?”
“No, I swear, I just wanted to tell him I was sorry, that’s all.”
“Fer wha?”
Eyan swallowed; his throat had become alarmingly dry. “For starin’ at him.”
“Starin’ at him? Are ye not knowin’ anythin’ at all? Ye don’ go starin’ at a lad like that and not be expectin’ to get somethin’ in return fer it.”
“What?”
“Ye do know what I’m referin’ to, don’ ye?”
“No. I mean…aye. He didn’t like how I was lookin’ at him.”
“So ye were givin’ him the evil eye.”
“What? No!”
Brenainn stroked his beard, deep in thought for a moment. He raised an inquisitive brow. “What do ye know about lads an’ lads, boy?”
“What d’ye mean?”
“I mean boys that be liken’ boys.”
“I don’t…understand.”
“Gor, ye were born yesterdee.” Brenainn shook his head. “I think ye need some schoolin’. But I don’ think I’m the one to be doin’ it. Mebe ye should be askin’ your da to explain it.”
Eyan ground his teeth. “My father doesn’t tell me anythin’. He said I’m not allowed to marry, so there’s no sense in me knowin’ about things like that.”
Brenainn guffawed. “Well, the las’ time I looked, boys weren’t marryin’ boys, so I don’ see wha’ marriage has to do wi’ it. But if your da don’ see fit to tell ye, then it ain’t my place to be a doin’ it.”
“Then I guess I’ll never know anythin’ then.”
“Listen, boy. I’ll be tellin’ ye this: Ye watch how ye look at boys like Quillan. He is wha’ he is, an’ I’ll not deny him his right to it. But assaultin’ ye to cover his own fears, well, it’s wrong it is. But if ye were to be caught doin’ the deed by the Kiradyns, even if ye weren’t a wantin’ to, things could go bad for ye—a lot worse’n a little pain in the backside, I’ll be tellin’ ye that.”
“Wha—”
Brenainn leaned toward him. “The Vestry’s proclaimed it an abomination, the damned fools. But bein’ as it is, ye could be burned at the stake fer it, an’ your partner wi’ ye.” He straightened his back and put a commanding hand on Eyan’s shoulder. “Talk to your da, lad. He’ll explain it to ye. Just don’ be doin’ anythin’ ye should’n hear? And if ye ain’t sure about it, well, don’ do it anyway.”
****
Eyan slipped into the house, closing the door behind him. “Talk to your da about it,” he muttered. “Like he’d tell me anythin’.” He walked toward the hearth then stopped. Dayn, he noticed, was asleep on a pallet near the fireplace. Eyan looked around the room. It was dim, but the coals in the hearth illuminated it well enough, and there was a still-lit candle flickering on the kitchen table. None of the adults were in their beds, he noticed, nor was Alicine who would probably be out for hours. Dayn seemed to be the only one home, which suited Eyan just fine; he was in no mood to see his parents at the moment. They
could stay gone all night for all he cared, and from the sound of the music in the barn, that was a likely possibility. The dance was obviously back in full swing.
Eyan tiptoed closer to Dayn and stopped to gaze down at him. He would have welcomed some company, but Dayn’s eyes were closed and his breathing steady. As Eyan looked down at him, he realized how handsome his cousin was. He had always thought so, but he could not help but wonder why he was currently more aware of it. Surely it was just a casual observation. After all, anyone, boy or girl, would be blind not to see it. Eyan thought of Brenainn’s warning about lads and lads. Did his own admiration for his cousin’s beauty apply? He analyzed Dayn’s features: straight nose, pleasant mouth, but his eyebrows were oddly pale. And his hair, so strange, so…golden. Eyan shook his head. Probably too much cider.
He turned and made his way to his own bed, then threw himself upon it. Propping his hands behind his head, he stared at the ceiling. Music vibrated through the walls, reminding him of how promising the evening had begun, only to die a cruel death at the hands of Quillan. He felt like such a fool. Here he’d been thinking he was making a good impression, when everyone was probably laughing at him instead. How many people besides Quillan still believed he was a demon—or worse?
Eyan shifted restlessly. What if he was what Quillan said. Was it possible he had given the boy the evil eye? Had he really been sending messages that even he didn’t understand? Eyan yanked the pillow out from under his head and pulled it over his face. If he could just block out the world and everyone in it—
“Eyan?”
Eyan peeked an eye out from behind the pillow. Dayn, the bottom half of him anyway, could be seen standing next to the bed, candle in hand.
“How was the dance?” Dayn asked, then yawned.
Eyan hugged the pillow closer to his face. “Fine,” he mumbled into the feathers.
Eyan felt the weight of the bed give as Dayn sat down beside him. Dayn eased the pillow from Eyan’s face. “What hap—” he began, but then his voice grew alarmed. “God, Eyan—what happened to your face?”
Eyan lifted his fingers to his tender cheek. He’d almost forgotten his face had been slammed against the barn. “Nothin’,” he said, covering the bruise with his hand.
Dayn shoved Eyan’s hand aside and moved the candle for a closer look. “Who did this to you?” he insisted. “Did someone hit you?”
“I don’t want t’ talk about it.”
“Well you’re going to talk about it.” Dayn set the candle on the night table next to Eyan’s bed. “Let me get some salve,” he said, and hurried to the medicinal cabinet across the way.
Dayn returned, a crock of ointment in his hand. He dipped his fingers into the jar and reached out to smear a glob on Eyan’s cheek.
Eyan jerked away. “I’m fine.”
“Don’t be an idiot.”
“I’m not an idiot!” Eyan snapped. He rolled over to face the wall. “Or maybe I am.”
Dayn laughed softly. “What’d you do, flirt with the wrong girl?”
“No.”
Dayn placed his hand on Eyan’s shoulder. “What then?”
“I don’t understand how everythin’ works.” Eyan sat up to face him. “There are things I should know, but I don’t.
“Like what?”
“Like who I am, where I fit.”
Dayn’s brow creased in thought. He reached a hand to Eyan’s cheek and dabbed the ointment on it. “I know how you feel,” he said softly. “I don’t fit either.”
“At least your parents didn’t hide ye away. They didn’t try to keep ye a child like mine did.”
“No,” Dayn said. “But it wasn’t any better for me. Mine tried to pretend I was like everyone else. And they wanted everyone else to pretend it, too. But I’m not and never will be.” He shrugged. “But I don’t care anymore. Now I know where I belong. I’m going back to Tearia, so it doesn’t matter what the Kiradyns, or the clans, or anyone else thinks of me.”
“That’s not true,” Eyan said. “Ye just want it to be true.”
“Why do you say that?”
“Because I know ye care what Falyn thinks. Ye love her, don’t ye?”
Dayn nodded.
“So why would ye leave her to go back to Tearia?”
“It’s complicated.”
“For you or for her?”
“Her, I guess. For me, it’s simple.” He forced a laugh. “But since she probably won’t have me, I’ll likely be going.”
Eyan considered it for a moment. “What does it feel like?” he finally asked.
“What? The way I feel about Falyn you mean?”
“Aye.” He peered at Dayn with curiosity. “What does that feel like?”
Dayn set the jar aside. “Well…” he began slowly. “I’d say, most of the time it feels good. Like when I think about her, I…well I guess I tingle or something.” He frowned. “But it hurts, too. Because I know I’ll probably never have her. Then I have to convince myself all over again that there’s still a chance.” He paused. “It’s like a part of me is missing.” He attempted a smile. “Does that make sense?”
“Have ye ever touched her?”
“Touched her?”
“Ye know, like really touched her.”
Dayn blinked. “You mean like—”
“Like for pleasure. I’ve been thinking about it, and I think there’s more to men and women gettin’ together than procreation.”
“Well, yes. There is.” Dayn’s face went red; he released a slow breath. “Maybe you should ask your father to explain it.”
Eyan shoved Dayn from the bed. He leapt from the mattress and planted his feet on the floor. “This is what I get for all my father’s explanations!” he said, aiming a finger at his own throbbing cheek. “What does it mean for a boy to like a boy?”
Dayn took a step back. “What?” he asked, nearly choking on the word.
“I got this from a boy who thought I was givin’ him the evil eye at the dance. I don’t know what that means, but he sure did!”
“Who? Who thought that?”
“It doesn’t matter who,” Eyan said.
“What did he do to you? Tell me.”
“He got as far as slammin’ me against the wall and accusin’ me o’ things I didn’t understand, that’s what he did. If Brenainn hadn’t come along—”
“Brenainn?”
“Aye. Brenainn put a stop to it. Then he gave me a warnin’. He said to be careful about things like that because I could be burned at the stake for it!”
Dayn collapsed onto the edge of the bed. “God, Eyan. How could this have happened?”
“I don’t know,” Eyan replied. “Don’t you understand? I don’t know.”
Dayn looked up at him. “Who else knows about this?”
“No one. Just me and Brenainn, and—and the other boy.”
Dayn rose to his feet and gripped Eyan by the shoulders. “No one else can know about this, Eyan.” He gave him a harsh shake. “You understand me? No one.”
Dayn’s tone made the hairs on Eyan’s neck rise. “Why? What’ll happen?” he asked.
“You heard what Brenainn said. The penalty is death.”
“The penalty for what?”
“God, didn’t Haskel tell you anything?” Dayn glanced over his shoulder. “All right, but you’d better sit down.”
Eyan sat on the edge of the bed. Dayn paced for a moment, then slowly began the explanation. Eyan nodded with understanding, but then his eyes grew wide. Much of what Dayn said he already knew. But there were some things he had not been expecting. By the time his cousin had finished explaining “the sins of the flesh”, Eyan’s world felt a little off kilter. It wasn’t from the details of what Dayn was telling him. It wasn’t even from the anger he felt toward his parents for keeping him in ignorance all these years. No, it was due to fear, but it was a fear unlike anything Eyan had ever experienced. At the beginning of Dayn’s speech, Eyan’s emotions, his body, his very soul seemed
to have awoken, prompting him to ask his cousin question after question. Some answers Dayn had been prepared to give, but the concern in Dayn’s expression, coupled with occasional evasiveness, told Eyan that some things were better off not said.
His questions finally stopped, and both he and Dayn grew silent.
Eyan pondered his cousin’s words for a moment, then said, “Thank ye for tellin’ me. I think I understand now.”
“Are you sure? I mean—”
“Yes. Now I know why I felt like I did when I was dancin’.” Eyan turned his eyes away. “I’m tired,” he said. “I think I’ll go to sleep now.”
“All right,” Dayn said. “See you in the morning, then.”
“In the mornin’.”
The candlelight moved with Dayn away from Eyan’s bed. Eyan climbed under the covers and yanked the pillow back over his face. He stared into the muffled blackness and hugged the pillow tight. But this time it was not to block out the world. It was to hide from it.
Back to ToC
Chapter 26: Divination
As promised, Dayn took the Chieftains to the cave. Eyan refused to go; he felt guilty enough for betraying his father’s orders and had disappeared shortly before they left. Alicine insisted on going, of course, as had Eileis and Haskel and even Uncle Nort. Vania stayed behind to see to the needs of her guests, while Morna and Seela remained at the house to offer her their support.
An unusual number of clan folk stopped by the house that morning, hoping for a hint of where the chiefs were going and what they expected to find. Vania and the other women feigned ignorance, though in truth they were not entirely sure what the men would discover. But they refused to give the busybodies any more fodder for gossip, so said it was none of their concern and that they would just have to wait to find out like the rest of them.
It was hours before the expedition returned, but when the group entered the doorway, the looks on their faces revealed more than words could say.
Brenainn plopped down onto one of the kitchen benches. “Ne’er seen anythin’ like it,” he said.
“What did you see exactly?” Morna asked anxiously, but her focus was on Haskel, not Brenainn.
Souls of Aredyrah 3 - The Taking of the Dawn Page 24
