She rested her hand on the table and turned away, as though hiding her tears.
“Well, then….” He slipped his metal belt through his scabbard and buckled the belt, then slid his sword into the scabbard with a clang. Alana held the door open for him as he gathered his knapsack, saddle, and tack, making two trips out to the horse. After taking several minutes to saddle and bridle the horse, he divided his belongings in his knapsack into the saddle bags, one bag on each side of the horse. He pushed his sleeves up to his shoulders, as Alana had instructed, to let the sunlight touch his arm and prevent a return of his infection.
He mounted the horse and waved to Alana. He saw tears running down her face and fought his own grief. Then he was on his way. A myriad of regrets taunted him as he left part of his life behind. He would never see her again. Ah, Goddess, how it hurt.
At midday, he stopped at a tavern to rest his horse and grab a bite to eat. Shortly after, he rode on under an ever darkening sky. Hours later, he reached a small town whose name he didn’t know and found a tavern with a stable. The tavern, a stone structure with a sign hanging in front, ’The Sign of the Black Horse’, appeared to have a flourishing business, if the number of horses tethered outside was any indication. He led the mare to the stable and tossed a copper coin to the stable boy with instructions for feeding and watering the horse. After retrieving his belongings from the saddle bags and transferring them to the knapsack, he entered the tavern, and headed for the front desk to ask about a room. Rolling his tunic sleeves down, he walked to the main room, looking forward to the evening meal.
Talk and laughter filled the large room, and appetizing aromas floated through the air. Candles in iron sconces cast a dim glow over the room. He pulled out a chair and sat down at a table, weary from riding. His muscles ached, from his hands to his stomach and down to his thighs and legs. Tiredness settled over him and seeped into his bones, a realization that it had been a long time since he’d last ridden a horse, and he had to admit, just recovering from an infection. Well, old man, are you twenty-nine or fifty-nine?
A serving girl greeted him and set a bowl of beef stew and bread on the table, then filled his mug with ale. The stew was hot and rich with chunks of beef and morsels of potatoes, carrots and celery; the wheat bread was warm from the oven.
In the corner, a man played a fiddle and sang a plaintive tune about a girl who was unfaithful to her lover.
While Colin ate, he listened to the conversation around him, bits and snatches of talk about magic.
“Just hanged her two days ago,” one man said. Clad in a velvet tunic and trousers, he looked to be prosperous. “A panel of druids convicted her of practicing black magic!”
Affecting an expression of nonchalance, Colin waited to hear what others would say.
“Well, what did she do to warrant a hanging?” another man asked.
“Turned one of her enemies into a rat and refused to turn her back.” He sipped his wine and dabbed a napkin across his mouth. “Maybe we shouldn’t permit magic at all. I suppose Queen Keriam thought she was doing the right thing by having the druids codify magic. But if these people—women, mostly, wouldn’t you know—use black magic to punish their enemies, perhaps all magic should be banned.”
“Or maybe they should burn ‘em at the stake like they used to, when Tencien was king.”
‘Ayes’ and nods followed that statement. Colin mulled over the talk, remarks that had given him much to consider. What in the name of the Goddess had Alana done to make an enemy of anyone? She didn’t have a vindictive bone in her body. No, there must have been another reason, and as soon as that thought entered his mind, the answer emerged. Jealousy. Another woman had been jealous of her and had put an evil spell on her, destroying her beauty. And she must have been beautiful, of that he had no doubt. Ah, Alana, if only I could have helped you, kissed your blemishes away and made you beautiful again.
Polishing off his evening meal with a cherry tart, he retrieved his knapsack and headed for the winding stairs to his room on the second floor. He fitted his key in the lock and entered the room, gratified to see it was clean, a bowl of water on the table. He sat on the bed to find the mattress firm, as he liked it. Dropping his knapsack on the floor, he undressed and set his boots beside his knapsack.
Naked, he crawled into bed and pushed the covers aside, anticipating a good night’s sleep. However, sleep eluded him, for he could think of nothing or no one but Alana. Thoughts whirled around in his brain, a never-ending cavalcade of ideas and plans, of wanting Alana so much he ached with longing for her. Ah, if only she were lying beside him now….
Fool! Why hadn’t he told her how much she meant to him when he had the chance?
Suppose he resigned his commission in the Elegian army. Would Alana be willing to marry him? He knew he had certain skills that would stand him in good stead. He was good with numbers; perhaps he could obtain a position as a bookkeeper. That prospect brought a grim smile to his lips. How much money would he earn as a bookkeeper? Enough to support a wife and any children they might have? He spoke fluent Elegian; perhaps he could find employment as a translator. Leith would inherit the estate, all the land going to him upon their father’s entry into the Otherworld. Possibly he could buy a portion of the land and farm it.
Aren’t you getting ahead of yourself? What makes you think Alana loves you or that she would want to marry you? Even if no other man ever wanted her, he doubted if she would marry a man she didn’t love. Why not take a chance and ask her? He knew now what he must do. After he visited his family, he’d ride north to the Elegian army headquarters in Komartis to resign his commission, then ride south again to the cottage … and Alana.
With that tenuous resolution in mind, he fell asleep.
In the early hours of the morning, flashes of lightning lit the room, and loud claps of thunder shook the window. Torrents of rain fell, hitting his window like a flood. Upon arising, he looked outside to see the roads turned to mud, and still the rain fell.
Hours later, he prepared to continue his journey, then it was on to Ulaidh and his family.
* * *
After Colin left for his home, Alana stepped back inside the cottage. A panorama of memories consumed her, of Colin when she’d first met him and his kiss upon leaving her this morning, and all the times in between.
His kiss, oh my, his lips on hers! No man had ever kissed her quite like that before. Even now, a pleasurable warmth stole over her body, a feeling so new, so unexpected. She knew no man would ever kiss her again, not with her splotched face. Goddess, how she missed him, longed for him so it became a physical ache. Tears welled in her eyes, and she pressed her fist to her mouth, determined not to cry anymore. Tears fell, heartfelt sobs that came from deep within her soul. She sank onto the chair and clutched her stomach, rocking back and forth, saying his name again and again. She cried until she was certain she had no more tears left, and still she continued crying.
After an eternity of weeping, she drew herself up and scolded herself for bawling like a baby. She stiffened her resolve. Colin’s departure wasn’t the end of the world. She had lived in this cottage before he had sought refuge here. She would continue without him.
Rising from the chair, she brushed her hand across her face to dry her tears. Something felt different—her skin! Fewer blemishes marred her cheeks than before, she could tell. To satisfy herself, she rushed to her bedroom and reached for the hand mirror. Holding it up, she saw, as she suspected, fewer blemishes dotting her face. Strange but wonderful. Oh, so wonderful! Why had those splotches disappeared? She almost looked like the Alana Cullain from Cairn, before Morag’s curse.
A jumble of emotions sent her head spinning. Now that he’s gone, I look so much better than yesterday. Oh, the irony of it! A fresh spate of tears threatened to fall, but she fought her grief. She wanted to cry and laugh at the same time. She missed Colin unbearably, but no longer did she have a face that frightened people away.
Just think!
If she continued to improve—to look normal again—she could return to her village. She would confront Morag Delaney and vindicate herself. She would prove herself innocent of practicing black magic and resume her old life again. All she needed was courage.
Don’t get your hopes up. For all she knew, this improvement might be only temporary. She might look ugly again tomorrow. She rose from the chair, filled with resolve and a determination to be optimistic. And see what tomorrow would bring.
The next day, Alana could scarcely wait for daylight, so anxious was she to see her face. In the darkness of her bedroom, she ran her fingers across her cheeks. Smooth, absolutely smooth! As the rising sun turned the western sky from lavender to pink, and a golden glow lit the land, Alana jumped from her bed and reached for the mirror on her dresser. She held the mirror in front of her and smiled as she hadn’t smiled in a long time. Setting the mirror down, she sang a little tune, dancing around the room. Goddess, thank you, thank you. She mustn’t be vain; no, she knew that was sinful. But oh! To look normal again! Happiness consumed her.
And Colin, what about him? She loved him; there would never be another man to take his place. As that cold reality sank in, her thoughts sobered. In desperation, she latched onto a premise she hoped and prayed would prove true. If their love was destined to be, he would come back into her life. Talmora, let it be so. For now, she had a life to live, and she must live it without him. So many possibilities lay in store, so many things she could do now, places to visit, people to see.
And that reminded her of her last visit to Moytura. Her dresses, cape, and shoes must be ready by now. She would leave for the city soon and spend more time than she had on her last visit. No need to hurry home. She had the money from her sale of the bracelet, and the bracelet returned to her. She also had the money Colin had given her, coins she must spend sparingly. From here on, she must support herself. She couldn’t depend on the Goddess’s bounty for the rest of her life.
Looking outside, she saw the grass wet from rain, a shower she had slept through. After breakfast, she waited a while for the ground to dry, then gathered her books from the Temple of Knowledge and set out along the forest path. How different this trek was from her journey a nine-day ago. Up and down hills she trod, the trees and bushes wet from the recent rain, dampening her dress. The trip seemed shorter this time, perhaps because happiness lent a spring to her step.
The city came into view, its spires sparkling in the sunlight. First dropping her books off at the Temple, she headed for the dress shop. There, she saw in the window a lovely dress of light blue linen trimmed in lace and inquired about it. “I didn’t know you sold ready-made dresses here.”
The proprietor greeted her with a smile. “Normally we don’t, but a wealthy woman changed her mind about buying it. If you’d like to try it on, we can make adjustments to fit you.”
Feeling extravagant for the first time in her life, Alana went to a back room to try it on, finding it a bit too long and too big in the waist. “If you make these adjustments, I’ll come back for it in a few days.”
“We can adjust it today, if you don’t mind waiting.”
Alana nodded. “Thank you. I would appreciate that. And I’ll also pay for the dresses and cape I ordered last nine-day.”
The woman frowned in puzzlement. “Dresses? I don’t recall that you ordered any dresses.”
Alana frowned, too. A hint of anxiety crept into her voice. “Don’t you remember?” Suddenly, the problem resolved itself. “I had a terrible face rash at the time.”
“Oh, yes, I’m glad for your sake it’s cleared up. Just a minute.” She headed for a back room and returned moments later. “Here you are. We’ll hold these for you and have the other dress ready … say, within a couple of hours.”
Leaving the store, Alana walked out into the bright sunlight. She tried to put an optimistic outlook on her life, the awareness that she had her looks back. Yet the loss of Colin weighed heavily on her. She would remember him for the rest of her life. Sighing, she headed for the shoemaker’s. After picking up her shoes, she decided on a whim to visit Radegunda at her toiletry shop.
She reached the shop two streets away on Perfume Lane, its hanging sign in front featuring three bars of soap. As on the last time, a bell rang as she entered, and Radeguna emerged from a back room.
Alana leaned on the wooden counter and smiled. “Radegunda, do you remember me?”
Radegunda frowned. “Sorry, can’t say that I do.” A look of comprehension captured her face. “I remember your voice. Is it you, the same lady whose face was so—“
”Ugly, yes. It’s me. Something happened to clear up my face. I don’t know, don’t understand….” Her voice trailed off, then she brightened. “I can’t tell you how happy I am that I’m my old self again.”
The older woman gave her a knowing look. “Someone must love you very much.”
“Why? What makes you say that?”
“Unless the witch lifted the curse—and I doubt if that’s the case—then a lover’s affection will cure you of the spell.”
Alana thought for a moment. Brendan? If so, her face should have cleared up long ago. Brendan had harbored warm feelings for her for a long time, his affection going back years.
Radegunda smiled. “Maybe you have a secret lover.”
She laughed. “If that’s the case, then it’s a big secret, for I know of no recent person who cares for me.” Not Colin, that she knew. If he had loved her, he would have said something. Even if he wanted to return to his family—and she understood his desire to see his family again—he would have told her he loved her before leaving, with a promise to return to her.
“Well, with you havin’ your looks back, I’m sure lots of men will notice you now.”
“Thank you, Radegunda.” She purchased a jar of hand cream and left the shop, mulling over the woman’s words. The one man she wanted to notice her was gone from her life forever.
Chapter Ten
Colin crested the hill that overlooked his family estate in Ulaidh. Ah, how good it was to be back in Ulaidh again, to see his father and older brother Leith, to see his home again. Its sandstone glistened in the bright sunshine, its many windows reflecting the light. The hundreds of acres surrounding the manor, all part of the Duffrey estate, appeared well-tended, as he remembered.
With a satisfied sigh, he eased the horse down the rock-strewn hill, past the maples and oaks that bordered the property, the thick bushes that fronted the house. Danu’s balls, how he’d missed all of this and seeing his family again. The stable, a wide stone structure, stood several yards behind the house, its windows open to the fresh air.
Inside the stable, ten horses of various breeds stood inside their stalls; the pleasant aroma of horses and hay wafted throughout. Sunlight streaming through the open windows caught dust motes that floated in the air.
Looking surprised, the head stable boy came forward to greet him. “Master Colin, it’s been a long time since we last saw you.”
“Too long, Fagan. But I’m glad to be home again. Take good care of the horse and rub her down. We’ve been on the road for a long time.”
“Indeed, sir. And may I say that Master Finian will be happy to see you.”
And Leith? Colin wondered. With final instructions for the care of the horse, he retrieved his possessions from the saddle bags. He left the stable and headed for the family mansion, a magnificent structure that boasted over sixty rooms.
“Son!” his father welcomed him in the study a few minutes later. Tears misted his eyes as he held Colin close. “We were so worried about you, had no idea where you were or what had happened to you. I must admit we feared the worst.”
We? “Father, where is Leith?” He looked around in desperation, as though expecting Leith to enter the room any minute. And why not?
Tears streamed down Finian’s cheeks. “Ah, if only you had come home sooner. It’s been so long—“
”Where is Leith?”
Fin
ian drew back; his face revealed his anguish. “He died a few days ago.”
“Died? How—what—“
Finian drew out a handkerchief and dried his eyes. “He suffered from the wasting disease. Now he is at peace, with your mother in the Otherworld.”
Colin sank into the nearest chair, holding his face in his hands. “Leith … I can’t believe it. He was always so vibrant, so alive!” He sat up and shook his head. “Hard to believe.”
Finian sat, too, heaving a deep sigh. “We both wondered and worried about you. As I say, we feared—“
”Badly wounded in the last battle. Had to recuperate. I’ll tell you about that later. But where is L … Leith buried?”
“In the family plot, next to your mother.”
Colin stood. “If you’ll excuse me, I’d liked to go outside and see … his grave.”
“Yes, of course. When you come back, we have much to discuss, if you feel up to it. Goddess knows, I’d like to forget mundane affairs, pretend everything is as before. But there is much to settle.” He laid his hand on his chest. “My heart …I don’t know how much longer I’ll be here.”
“No, Father, don’t say it. I can’t lose you, too. Why, I’ll wager you’ll live for another twenty years, at least.”
Finian smiled grimly. “We can hope.”
Outside minutes later, Colin walked far beyond the house, to a place set aside as the family burial plot. A statue of Talmora stood at the entrance, and bushes of many kinds— hydrangeas, lilacs, and roses—formed a pleasant border. Finding the gravestone with Leith’s name on it, Colin sank to the ground. He fought his tears as he spoke with a bottomless sorrow, a grief that had no end. “Leith, my dear brother, forgive me for the times I was jealous of you, for any unkind words I ever spoke to you. Your suffering is over … you are now with our mother. Someday, my brother, we will meet again in the Otherworld and when we are both reborn in new bodies. I pray to the Goddess that it will be so.” Tears ran down his cheeks, but he wiped them away. He remained seated for long moments, thinking his private thoughts. Time lost all meaning as he sat by the grave; it may have been minutes or hours. A splendid oak stood nearby, a tree considered sacred by the people of Avador. He rose from the grave and knelt beside the tree.
Enchanted Cottage (Avador Book 3, Books We Love Fantasy Romance) Page 6
