A River of Orange

by Roberta C. M. DeCaprio

Zailia gasped. “Poor soul, only she survived?"

  "Aye, seems to be the case."

  Zailia leaned forward. “What is she like, what is her name, where is she from?"

  Ibrehem held up a hand and swallowed a mouthful of bread. “Patience, my dear lass."

  Zailia made a face. “Am I to grow old waiting?"

  "Her name is Meav O'Shay,” he began.

  Zailia's eyes brightened. “Ah, such a beautiful name. Is she beautiful?"

  "I have only had a glimpse of her from Wysteria's back window. The maiden was in the garden at the time, and Rule was on his way to speak with her. I lingered in the cottage, not wanting to interrupt."

  Zailia frowned. “Rule ... why he will scare the poor lass to death."

  Ibrehem chuckled lightly. “He has much to learn when it comes to charming a lady."

  Zailia arched a brow. “Perhaps you should teach him, since you are so schooled in such matters. There simply is not a lass around that you have not enchanted.” She folded her arms across her chest. “Of course, I must admit they were all twits, no girl with a lick of sense would listen to your smooth talk."

  Ibrehem put his hand over his heart. “Why, Zailia, you cut me to the quick. I have never been anything but a gentleman."

  "Do not give me that, Ibrehem Chancelor.” She wagged a finger at him. “You forget I have known you since you were a lad."

  He gave her a devilish smile. “And you were smaller, lass. If I remember things right, ‘twas I who picked you up when you fell and scraped your knee, carrying you home."

  Zailia leaned forward. “And ‘twas you who tried to sneak a peak when mother raised my skirt to administer the salve."

  Ibrehem threw his head back and laughed heartily. “'Tis your spunk, woman, that sends my heart a racing."

  "Huh, anything in a skirt would do the trick,” Zailia spat.

  "Are you two bickering again?” Tobiah called out from the bedroom.

  "Aye,” Ibrehem answered, making his way to the old man's door. “Some things never change."

  Tobiah nodded slowly. “'Tis a comfort to know, especially when so much has changed."

  Zailia walked passed Ibrehem, her chin raised defiantly, and sat at the edge of her father's bed. “He is incorrigible."

  Ibrehem frowned. “I am not."

  "You are too,” Zailia countered.

  "Enough,” Tobiah snapped. “You two sound like you are still in bloomers and knickers.” He adjusted the quilt around his thin waist. “What is this about Wysteria having a house guest?"

  "So, those old ears are still as sharp as the day is long,” Ibrehem teased.

  Tobiah looked over at Ibrehem. “Do you know where she is from?"

  "I understand from Wysteria the young woman's homeland is Dublin, Ireland.” Ibrehem frowned. “Have you ever heard of such a place, Tobiah?"

  "Aye, I have."

  Ibrehem moved closer to the bed. “Do tell."

  Zailia's eyes widened. “Aye, Papa, please tell us what you know."

  Tobiah scratched his bearded chin. “Well, let me see ... I seem to remember my great-grandfather speaking of Ireland when I was just a wee lad. Gramps Finnley called it the Emerald Isle. To reach it one must travel down the Coast of Demons and days upon the sea.” Tobiah looked over at his daughter. “'Tis a place the old timers rarely spoke of."

  "Why, Papa?” Zailia questioned. As a child she was always intrigued by one of her father's stories.

  "Because of the legend,” Tobiah said.

  "And what legend is this?” Ibrehem asked. “My curiosity builds."

  "The one that tells of the flight of the leprechauns,” Tobiah said.

  Zailia frowned. “And what are leprechauns?"

  "They are the wee folk of Ireland,” Tobiah explained.

  "They left Ireland to come here?” Ibrehem probed.

  Tobiah nodded. “The poor souls had no choice. They were being sought after by the Irish for their pots of gold."

  A soft gasp escaped Zailia. “They owned pots of gold?"

  Tobiah nodded again. “They kept them at the end of the rainbow. The Irish folks got wind of the fact that if one of these wee fellows were caught; he had to turn over his pot of gold for his release."

  "So it became open season on leprechauns,” Ibrehem concluded.

  Tobiah leaned back against the pillow. “Aye, and many times the little men were not released after their captors were paid, but tortured and killed."

  Zailia's hand went to her throat. “How awful."

  "'Twas awful, daughter.” Tobiah pulled the quilt up around his shoulders. “To finish my story, I will say that most of them fled to the hills of Ireland, never to be seen again, but a handful of them boarded a boat and with their families paddled away; letting the sea take them where ever it would.” He sighed, his strength waning. “'Twas on Keronia they landed, many sick and dying. The Elwins took them in, saved some of the men, but the women were too weak to survive."

  "And without their women they could not keep their kind going,” Zailia added.

  "True enough,” Tobiah agreed. “But they left two things behind."

  Ibrehem frowned. “Like what?"

  "Their language for one; the elder Elwins speak their tongue and many words we speak are from their lingo.” Tobiah smiled. “And they left the Promise."

  Ibrehem lightly leaned his shoulder against the bedpost. “What was the promise?"

  "They promised the Elwins that if Keronia were ever to be in trouble, one from their land would arrive to help."

  "A leprechaun would come to help us?” Zailia asked.

  "The promise was only that one from Ireland would arrive to help,” Tobiah corrected.

  Zailia looked over at Ibrehem. “And one from Ireland has arrived."

  Ibrehem sneered. “Certainly you cannot believe the slip of a woman in Wysteria's care can save Keronia?"

  Zailia stood, shoulders straight and chin raised. “Do you think because she is a woman she cannot help us?"

  "Well ... I just do not think that..."

  "You are a pig head, Ibrehem Chancelor,” Zailia interjected. “You think only brawny men with bad manners and sharp knives can be heroes."

  Ibrehem's mouth opened to defend himself, but Zailia drowned out any thought of him speaking.

  "I am so tired of males thinking females can do nothing but cook, clean and bear the babies,” Zailia raved on.

  "But Zailia ... I...” Ibrehem stammered.

  "I am through with this nonsense. This subject is not open for further discussion,” Zailia snapped, and stormed out of the room.

  Ibrehem stood stunned. He looked after her with his mouth open and lost for words.

  Tobiah chuckled. “She has a point, lad."

  Ibrehem turned back to look at Tobiah. “What just happened here?"

  Tobiah chuckled lightly. “You have ruffled her feathers."

  Ibrehem frowned, feeling a mixture of confusion and annoyance. “I seem to do a lot of that lately."

  "She has her mother's spunk."

  Ibrehem crossed his arms over his chest. “And what did you do to smooth your wife's feathers?"

  Tobiah's eyes sparkled mischievously. “I took her to bed."

  Ibrehem arched a brow. “Though that remedy would be one I would not mind, I doubt Zailia is willing."

  "Marry her, then,” Tobiah said flatly.

  Ibrehem smiled. “The thought has crossed my mind."

  Tobiah yawned. “Well, do not let it linger there long, lad. ‘Tis the first hunter each season that snares the choicest meat."

  "Aye, ‘tis at that,” Ibrehem agreed.

  "I have taught you to be a fighter, but no one can teach you to love someone; that you must do on your own accord.” Tobiah waved his hand in the air. “Now off with you, Ibrehem ... go make amends with her before ‘tis too late ... and leave me to my nap."

  In their conversation, not one of those in the cottage heard the intruder that listened beneath the windo
w, nor did they see him scamper off through the bushes and head toward the castle.

  Chapter Four

  Rule could not release Meav from his mind's eye. Lying in the corner of his cave on a pile of animal skins for comfort, he saw over and over the young maiden twirling before him on the cobblestone veranda; her skirt flaring just enough for him to get a look at her slender ankles.

  Of course the scene in his head played out much different then it did on Wysteria's terrace the night before. Rule's version had him slipping Meav's dress off her shoulders and circling her nipples with the tip of his tongue. His vision had him slowly laying her across the bench, raising her skirt to her thighs, spreading her legs wide and tasting her sex.

  He swallowed hard and turned onto his side. He could almost feel her soft nub against his tongue. That vivid image caused him an erection that painfully throbbed between his legs. He closed his eyes and groaned. All he desired would only ever be something he could experience in a dream. No woman would want to make love to him in the hideous state he was in.

  "Nay,” he whispered to himself. “What I am would only frighten her.” Hell and damnation, he frightened himself!

  Rule was disgusted with what he had become. Yet he had not the courage to go past the perimeter of the jungle and end his misery. What was he hoping for? There was no cure for the curse upon him, no antidote, and no herbal remedy. Why did he linger or even want to see another day?

  Perhaps ‘twas the inbred hope in him, the challenge not besting him; or just instinct, but Rule wanted to live. So he answered the pains of hunger that had begun in his belly and worked up to his throat; stood and stripped off all his clothes. With a sigh, Rule was ready once more for the kill.

  The change began ... first the pains down the backbone, then the arms and legs. Rule felt his head and neck become larger; the stretching of every muscle was excruciating.

  He got down on all fours and arched his spine. His hands turned to paws, claws sharp and drawn, ready for action. Shiny, black fur replaced his flesh. Rule opened his mouth and a fierce growl escaped from his throat. The transformation was complete. Now he would hunt for breakfast.

  * * * *

  While Wysteria prepared the porridge she glanced sideways at Meav, who had already begun setting the table for the morning meal. “What month were you born, child?"

  "In August, I am told,” Meav said.

  "Within the first or second part of the month?” Wysteria questioned as she poured the hot gruel into the bowls Meav had ready.

  "Why, the very first day, I believe,” Meav announced.

  "Then your sign is the Lion,” Wysteria said.

  Meav frowned. “I do not understand what you mean by me sign."

  "Leo, the Lion is the fifth house of the Zodiac,” Wysteria explained. She caught the confused look on Meav's face and it made her chuckle. “You do not know about the stars in accordance to the months?"

  Meav shook her head.

  "Then I shall have to teach you, but for now let me continue with the horoscope sign that you were born under, which is Leo.” Wysteria grabbed for the bowl of blueberries and an apple on the cupboard shelf. While she talked, she cut up the apple. “This house governs the heart, pleasure, and children ... Leos love children. ‘Tis a fierce spirit that Leos acquire. They are always speculating what might happen next. The lion sign is brave and loyal, will move headstrong into whatever challenge lies ahead.” Wysteria added the fruit to Meav's bowl of porridge and handed it to her. “Leos do well eating apples and blueberries."

  Meav nodded in agreement and took the food. “The headstrong part is me for sure. I received many a punishment by the hand of me grandmamma ... a switch across me bared bottom for some of me willful ways."

  "Then you knew the walls of the woodshed well?” Wysteria probed.

  Meav arched a brow. “Aye, a wee bit too well. Once Papa suggested I should move me cot to the shed, since I spent more time in there then I did in the house."

  "Were you born in the morning or evening?” Wysteria probed further.

  "The morning, I have been told, very early ... the dew was still upon the land when I took me first breath,” Meav said.

  Wysteria blew on her porridge to cool it. “Then the sun is your planetary ruler, and the characteristics you display are that of faith, optimism and the desire to rule and lead. This is important for you to keep in mind, child."

  Meav did the same to her breakfast before putting a spoonful into her mouth, “Why so, Wysteria?"

  "Because you will need to know you have the strength to carry out all you must do."

  Meav frowned and put down her spoon. “What is there for me to do?"

  "'Tisn't for discussion now, I will explain all that you need to know in time.” Wysteria motioned to the bowl. “Eat now, lest your breakfast grows cold."

  Meav suddenly felt the speculation Wysteria had spoken about. She slowly reached for her spoon. “Is there a reason I have washed up on the shores of Keronia?"

  "Aye, child, there is.” Wysteria gave her a gentle smile. “There is a reason and a season for all things. Everyone has a path that they are destined to travel."

  Meav swallowed the uncertainty that formed in her throat. “Will I know mine when I see it?"

  "Aye, you will ... and I will help you to see it clearly,” Wysteria assured her.

  Meav frowned. “How can you help me?"

  Wysteria put aside her own spoon and leaned forward in her seat. “After you eat every morsel of your porridge I will boil marigold, fennel, comfrey, chamomile and St. John's wort together in a cauldron, and apply the herbs with a soft cloth to your eyes. Then your eyes will be bright ... you will see what needs to be seen."

  Meav began to feel apprehensive. “And then what happens ... after I have seen what is meant for me to see?"

  Wysteria bent her head and began to eat her porridge.

  "What happens then, Wysteria?” Meav repeated, her voice rising with her uncertainty.

  "One step at a time, child ... one step at a time."

  * * * *

  Meav walked beside Wysteria, golden places shining in the morning sun. The journey through the glen to the Elwin's village was a pleasant one, affording Meav the time to take in her surroundings and to admire further the island that would now become her home.

  She put aside the conversation she had over breakfast with Wysteria; rehashing it only made her uneasy. Instead Meav focused her thoughts on what the day would bring. She was anxious to meet Wysteria's good friends, especially the two women, Raika and Twila that helped care for her.

  "I am so honored you have invited me to the baby's blessing, Wysteria. But are you sure the Elwins will not mind a new face among the old?"

  "Nay, they welcome all.” Wysteria smiled warmly at her new charge. “'Tis a beautiful ceremony, I know you will be pleased with it, and ‘twill give you a chance to make new friends.” Wysteria repositioned the satchel she carried over her shoulder. “Raika's daughter Aliki is about your age."

  Meav reached for the heavy pack. “Let me carry that for you."

  Wysteria smiled thankfully and passed the satchel to the young maiden by her side. “Be careful not to let it touch the ground. There are sacred items in there that I will use for the blessing."

  "I cannot wait to see the wee one.” Meav's face brightened. “Do you think Aliki might let me hold the babe?"

  Wisteria chuckled lightly. “I am sure she will."

  "I have always loved holding the wee ones. Their skin is so soft, and they have such a sweet smell."

  Wysteria cast a glance Meav's way. “'Tis this way for you because ‘tis your calling. As I told you earlier, Leo's love children."

  "In Dublin I helped with the births of many in me town. In fact, helping with a birth is what saved me life. If I had not been by Maggie Connor's bedside the night Hollister McGreary murdered me family, I would be dead too.” She felt her heart break for the agony her family must have endured before their souls de
parted from this world.

  Wysteria's voice softened. “'Tis a known fact, lass, that all those who hurt others get their own due. Hollister McGreary will be held accountable for his actions.” She reached out and took Meav's arm. “But now you must move on. Our Divine Maker had a reason for sparing you."

  Meav sighed. “'Tis hard to pull away from what has been me life ... leave all of it behind.” She looked deep into Wysteria's eyes. “Will the hurt every go away?"

  Wysteria smiled encouragingly. “'Twill hurt less in time, and ‘tis expected that you will grieve. Go have a good cry, shake your fists to the heavens if you must ... but then, lass, ‘tis time to thicken your hide, and become strong enough to face your destiny."

  Meav bit her bottom lip. There it was again, the apprehensive feeling from this morning creeping up to swallow her. “Promise me you will not leave me side, Wysteria."

  "I can promise you that by the time you know what you have been brought here to do, you will not need me,” Wysteria confirmed. She gave Meav's arm an affectionate squeeze. “No more talk of this now. ‘Tis a morning to welcome a new life into the world, and I must center my thoughts on the ceremony to be preformed."

  Meav nodded in agreement and walked the rest of the way to the Elwin's village in silence.

  * * * *

  Wysteria led them through an archway of trees and stopped at the clearing. “We are here, lass ... before us is the Elwin's village."

  Meav looked around confused. Nothing but green grass lay ahead. She frowned. “I see no homes, no one about."

  Wysteria chuckled lightly. “That is because you are looking with your eyes."

  Meav's frown deepened. “What else am I suppose to look with?"

  "Look with your heart and your spirit,” Wysteria advised.

  "How?” Meav asked meekly.

  Wysteria knelt and brought Meav down with her. “Feel the earth; lass ... let it slip through your fingers."

  Meav obeyed, reaching for a handful of sand. Slowly she let it sift through her fingers.

  "Now, close your eyes and bring a bit of the soil up to your nose ... take a good whiff and think of all the good Mother Earth has given to her children,” Wysteria continued.

  Meav scooped up another handful of dirt and brought it to her nose. With eyes shut she inhaled the scent of the land and thought of how the earth nourished life around her; giving way for homes to be built and nurturing the seeds that are planted. Meav was suddenly filled with appreciation and awe.