She struggled against his embrace. “Such a fist in your ribs I demonstrate!”
“That, too! Now, shall we depart for our assigned places? Yana and the twins went earlier, and Finnegan just left.” He offered his arm.
Orlagh placed her hand in the crook of his elbow and smiled. “We shall.”
About fifty villagers had come to watch the show. A couple of young men poked each other in the front row next to a frowning young woman with a babe at her breast. An older couple sat next to the woman, but the man had his head to one side and appeared to be asleep.
Orlagh quailed once again at the idea of her impending performance, but Yana grinned and stepped to the front of the tavern to announce the troupe.
“Good people, we are honored to perform for you here tonight. For your entertainment and pleasure, may I introduce Temuirr, a bard of the old school?” Temuirr stood and bowed, giving a dramatic flourish with his hands as he bent.
“Tonight, you will be treated to our dear Orlagh’s first solo performance, so be kind to her!” Orlagh stood to cheers and whistles. Embarrassed, she sat quickly.
“Tam and Cam will perform some acrobatics and humorous antics.” The boys stood and made funny faces to the crowd’s laughter.
“Our dear Finnegan will accompany me on his whistle as I, Yana, will sing a lament.”
More cheers and shouts erupted as she bowed. Temuirr nodded to her and drummed a slow beat on his small bodhran. Orlagh recognized her cue. She stood, adjusted her blue skirts, and stood straight as her grandfather had always taught her. She swallowed several times before she began.
As she’d feared, she completely lost her memory of the words. A quick glance to Temuirr reassured her, as he mouthed the opening lines. Breathing in deeply, she sang with intense concentration to a silent hall.
A longing for my home
Overtook my soul
For the grass in the plain and for
The fawns upon the moors
Oak of spreading leaves,
Taller than any tree
The delicate little hazel
A coffer for its nuts.
Orlagh took a breath to sing the third verse, but the woman with the baby jumped up. Distracted, Orlagh forgot her words and stared at the woman. She stalked to the front of the tavern and thrust her baby into Temuirr’s face.
“Here! This is the son I told you of today! Go on, now, take a good look! He’s yours, no doubt. He’s got your eyes. Look!”
Temuirr stopped drumming and stared at the proffered baby. Disturbed by the sudden cool air and motion, the baby squalled and fussed, turning red. Temuirr stood and backed up several steps until he was against the wall.
Yana extracted the bodhran and beater from her brother’s numb fingers. “Temuirr, you must deal with this. Outside. Now.”
She tried to shoo Temuirr out, but the woman stood firm. “I will have this out with you right now, Temuirr. You pursued me if you will recall. I found witnesses. You sued for my favors with intense determination. Well, here is your prize! Is that your new wife? Will she care for your baby along with her own? More likely, you will leave her as well when you charm the next lass.”
Orlagh couldn’t breathe. She tried to swallow away the pain and mortification, but it refused to budge. She needed to be outside. In her haste to escape, she almost tripped over the low bench near the door. Temuirr might have called out to her, but she didn’t care. She needed to get outside, away from all those strangers, staring at her with pity and censure. Her babe stirred in her belly, kicking in protest at her turmoil.
The cold spring wind slapped her in the face, but she breathed deeply of the thin, night air. The gust still didn’t startle her as much as the revelation in the tavern. The sound of waves against the pier was the only music she craved at this point.
A hand on her back made her whirl around. She expected to find Temuirr, but instead one of the twins stood in the bright moonlight. Tam or Cam? She could never tell the difference.
“Go away. I don’t want to talk to anyone.”
He kept his hand on her back. “Then don’t talk. I’m here, regardless.”
Unaccountably, this is what brought on the tears. They pushed through with relentless force, and she turned to sob on the twin’s shoulder. He held her tightly, rubbing her back and murmuring comforting words. What he said, she didn’t know. Perhaps he spoke in another language. Nevertheless, his kindness helped.
Orlagh had no idea what she should do now. She was so wretched. She just wanted to find her grandfather and return home, home to Ceann-Coradh. He’d never take her now, not after her angry words last spring.
The tavern door opened once again, and Orlagh glanced up to see who emerged. The tall form must be Temuirr. He looked bowed and beaten.
With a mighty sniff, she extracted herself from the twin’s comforting arms. He patted her several more times on the shoulder, glanced back at Temuirr, and smiled. “Let me know if you need another good sob, Orlagh. We’re both here for you.”
Her voice barely whispered. “Thank you.”
Laughter filtered out from the tavern. The show must have started again. So much for her big debut as a solo performer. The boy nodded and walked away as Temuirr approached.
She clenched her jaw and flinched away as Temuirr reached for her hands. “Absolutely not! You will not touch me!”
“Orlagh, mo chuisle …”
The rage burned through her blood. She wished she stood taller so she could be more menacing. She stepped to him and slapped his face, her hand stinging. “Don’t you ‘Orlagh, mo chuisle ‘me! You fathered a baby! A son, in that very tavern! A woman who’s obviously sampled your charms at some point last winter. How many other young women have you sampled, Temuirr? How many other baby bards are dotted around the countryside? Are we going to find your ex-lovers at every stop? Will each village reveal a baby Temuirr at some woman’s breast?”
He took several steps back from her onslaught, but she stepped forward with each sentence. He stumbled on a stone and glanced behind him at the edge of the rocky pier. A misstep might land him in the bay. Orlagh decided that was an excellent idea. She grimaced with effort as she pushed his chest. His arms windmilled several times before he fell. The splash sounded wonderful to Orlagh, a victory in a tiny battle.
He didn’t struggle or yell, as the water was shallow with a sandy bottom beyond the pier. He simply pulled himself back to dry land. He stood, shivering and dripping in the silver light with his head bowed.
“I don’t know what I can say, Orlagh.”
She put her hands on her hips. “You can sodding well start with an apology.”
He nodded. “Of course, I’m absolutely sorry. I’m sorry to subject you to this entire situation.”
Orlagh rolled her eyes. “It’s not just the situation, Temuirr! Do you think I care about being embarrassed in front of strangers I’ll never see again? You never told me! We haven’t been together all that long, I grant you, but you would think, in the course of the past cycle of seasons, you might have at least mentioned you had children! That we might perform at a village of one of your lovers! What will you do about this?”
“Do about what?”
She stamped her foot. “Your son! In that tavern is a young woman, most likely unmarried, who gave birth to your son! Will you support her? Care for him?”
He blinked several times as if he was only now considering the implications. Perhaps he was. Disgusted, Orlagh turned and stalked away. She’d no idea Temuirr was such a blithering idiot. This was the man she’d married? More like a child, playing at being a man. She’d imagined him so sophisticated and exotic at first. In the end, he was an arse like all the others. He had no sense of duty.
To top that, she would bear his child soon. She stroked her belly again, crooning to the baby within. The baby shouldn’t be blamed for his father being an arse, was it? How many brothers and sisters would her child have across the land? Dozens? Hundreds?
She stalked along the shore toward their encampment. Eolande should still be there. She didn’t like being part of the shows, but would usually have something hot on the fire for the performers when they returned. Orlagh needed the comfort of her dear friend.
Running feet sounded behind her, and she turned, fully prepared to push Temuirr in the bay again. When she looked, though, she found one of the twins. Was it the same one who comforted her earlier? She didn’t know. He said nothing, but took her hand and walked with her. She squeezed his hand, and he squeezed back, mute.
When they reached the camp, Eolande was nowhere to be seen, but the fire was licking cheerfully at a pot, and the pot was full of rich stew. Tawnith was perched on one of the tents, apparently keeping guard over the campsite. The aroma washed over Orlagh, and she remembered she’d eaten very little that day. Her stomach had been upset as she worried about her performance. So much for that. She grabbed two bowls and dished out some stew for the twin.
“Tam? Or Cam?”
He shrugged. “Cam, at least today.”
She raised her eyebrows.
Grinning, he stuffed a huge spoonful of stew in his mouth. Around the food, he mumbled. “We sometimes switch just to confuse people.”
She snorted against the threat of tears and ate her stew. The flames warmed her hands and feet, and she closed her eyes at the comfort.
A snapped twig made Orlagh jump up and spin around, but it was just Eolande returning. “I brought mushrooms for the stew!”
She dropped in her bounty and stirred the pot several times, watching the swirled patterns. “Is the performance over so soon? I expected it to last several more hours. The stew isn’t really ready yet.” She frowned at the bowls in their hands.
Orlagh swallowed a morsel she’d been chewing on. “It’s delicious anyhow. No, they’re still singing. But I had to leave.”
Her friend narrowed her eyes and sat on the bench. Orlagh glanced at Cam, who slapped his hands on his knees. “Right. I’m off to find more firewood. I’ll be back in a trice.”
Once he’d left, Orlagh said, “Temuirr’s son is in the tavern. So is the mother.”
Eolande’s eyes grew wide, and her mouth made an O. Then she sighed and nodded. “That was always a possibility. He’s much older than you. Surely he’s had lovers before.”
“But he should have warned me! He can’t have had so many he forgot where they lived?”
Eolande shook her head and stirred the pot again. “It’s very possible he has. He’s a traveling bard, Orlagh. Did you expect perhaps a monk? He’s a man, and men do such things.”
“Grandfa doesn’t. He’s not taken a lover in thirteen winters. Not since Grandmother died.”
“Your grandfather is an odd case. What about Eógan? He humps everything he can get his hands on, and delights in the chase. Most men are like Eógan.”
Orlagh grunted, but had no answer. Instead, she stared into the flames while Eolande stirred. The shapes danced before her eyes, beckoning her to join them. Flickering and swaying, she almost obeyed them.
“Perhaps it’s time to return home, Orlagh.”
Orlagh snorted at the idea. “Home? Grandfa would never take me like this, after what I said to him. I’d be a disgrace to his precious name. There’s no home for me now, Eolande. No home left at all. I made my choice, as you made certain to remind me when I got married.”
Tawnith flew onto Orlagh’s shoulder and nuzzled under her hair. It didn’t tickle this time. It just hurt. She shooed the bird away.
Eolande sang. It was a gentle song, full of longing and sweet sorrow.
There is a blossoming wood and fruit
Fragrant from the vine, a wood
That does not decay, has no defect
And has at its peak leaves of gold.
Since creatures were born, there’s been a fort,
With neither age nor withering
Still fresh. We do not expect
Original sin has touched us not.
Orlagh had heard the song before, both in musical and story form. However, this particular version had much more detail about life in Faerie than any other version. Eolande’s voice was wistful and nostalgic when she sang these parts.
Did her friend crave a return to Faerie? Orlagh no longer denied Eolande’s heritage, not after meeting her grandfather in his wolf form. Perhaps she might help Eolande return to the land of her family. Her friend had been so staunch and true, staying by Orlagh through this whole mad mess. Maybe they should go together? After all, Orlagh’s grandfather would surely shun her now that she’d married against his will. Temuirr had other duties, possibly more than even he realized. Orlagh needed to find a place for herself, in this world or another.
When the song ended, Orlagh asked, “Eolande, do you want to go back to Faerie?”
Her friend blinked several times before answering. “Faerie? What do you mean?”
“You just seemed so melancholy when you sang of your home.”
Eolande paced around the camp. “What makes you think Faerie is my home?”
Orlagh stood and took her friend by the shoulders. “Eolande, tell me the truth. You are a Fae, this I know. You must have lived in Faerie once. Do you want to go back?”
Tears formed in Eolande’s eyes. In all the winters she’d known her friend, Orlagh had never seen her cry before. They shone silver in the flickering night, almost glowing with a light of their own. “I cannot go back, Orlagh. I can never return. Please, don’t make me go!”
Eolande tore herself from Orlagh’s grasp and ran out into the night. Tawnith followed with a raucous caw.
“God’s Bones. What have I done now?”
“I don’t know, but whatever you did, you did it well.”
She spun to see Cam, burdened with an armful of wood. She rushed to help him with his burden, and they stoked the fire together. “All I did was ask if she wanted to go home. Something must have happened to her there, something which drove her away and still frightens her.”
He shrugged. “I’ve never been able to get even that much out of her. She won’t talk about her past, that one. Trust me, both Tam and I have tried many times.”
“Tried talking to her?”
He grinned. “Well, yes. That, too.”
Orlagh glared at him. “She’s my friend, Cam. If you hurt her in any way…”
He put his hands up. “Relax! She’s pursued us, not the other way around. She lets us know when she’s interested and pulls us away. We don’t have much say in the matter, really.”
“Us? Both of you? At the same time?”
He grinned, shrugging. “We’re twins. We do everything together.”
Orlagh was saved having to reply by another noise in the woods. This time the crashing underbrush revealed Temuirr.
He stumbled into the firelight, staggering a few times back and forth before he discovered a tree to help him stand steadily. His eyes were bloodshot and half-drooped.
Orlagh made a disgusted noise and turned her back to her husband. “You were telling me about your twin, Cam. What else do you like to do together?”
Temuirr let go of his tree and took two very shaky steps toward her. “Orlagh! Orlagh, I’ve come to woo you!”
Without turning, she said, “You are drunk, Temuirr. I suggest you find your tent and go sleep the drink off. I shall be sleeping elsewhere. Now, Cam, you were saying?”
“Orlagh! I’m sorry, Orlagh. I am so, so sorry. Please f’give me, mo chuisle!”
From the sound of his voice, he had dropped to his knees behind her. She wondered if he had put his hands up to beg.
“Please, Orlagh! I love you! I need you! I want to have your baby! Well, maybe not the last bit. But I love you!”
For a moment, she was tempted to turn around, but she steeled herself. She put out her arm for Cam. “Shall we go for a stroll? The night is lovely.”
With a glance at Temuirr, Cam shrugged and took her arm. With deliberate steps, they left the encampment and
headed into the woods. Temuirr still called her name for some time. Eventually, his pleas faded to the sounds of the night.
Exhausted, she stopped. “What am I going to do, Cam?”
“Are you looking for reassurances or options?”
Orlagh considered. She’d had reassurance from him or his twin earlier tonight. She still didn’t know if he was the same twin. Now she needed to make some decisions. “Options.”
“Right. Well, you can leave him, or you can stay. If you stay, you can forgive him, or you can remain mad at him.”
Just now, she couldn’t imagine ever not being mad at him. Still, that was a possibility for the future. Could she forgive him? She had no idea. If she could, she should stay. He was her wedded husband, and they were vowed to love. That vow couldn’t be broken asunder and was legally binding. Perhaps that’s what she needed to do; find out if he was just a hopeless philanderer.
“Cam, do you know if Temuirr… if he formally married before?”
Cam considered the question for several moments. “Once, yes.”
Her heart sank. That was the answer, then. She wasn’t his wife.
“But the lass died a winter after they married. That’s the only time I can recall.”
“Has he had many lovers?”
Cam gave her a half-smile. “About as many as there are villages in Hibernia, Orlagh. I’m sorry to say, but I’m telling the truth. Not that Tam and I are much better, mind you. Or Yana, for that matter.”
Their antics didn’t bother Orlagh, not nearly as much as Temuirr’s did. Yet, all his actions, as far as she could tell, took place before her marriage. She had no proof he’d ever cheated on her. Still, the fact remained he’d slept with many women.
At least one of these lovers had a child by him. In Brehon Law that was a legal marriage, despite the lack of formal vows exchanged. It was a lower grade marriage, but a marriage nonetheless. Even without issue of a child, there was a low-grade marriage formed between lovers.
Orlagh felt like she had been on a boat in a raging storm. Her head spun with options and possibilities, anger and despair. Tonight was too full of emotions for her to make sense of it. She massaged her temples, trying to dispel the ache. “I need to sleep, Cam. I can’t get my head around anything tonight. Temuirr should have sought his own tent by now. Can you help me back to camp?”
Misfortune of Song: Druid's Brooch Series: #5 Page 20
