On Fallen Wings

by Jamie McHenry

  “You drank too much, son,” said Earl, reaching for the goblet in Cael’s hand. “Calm down and relax. You’re being dishonorable.”

  “That’s right,” said Sean. “You’re embarrassing me in front of our hosts and my future family.”

  With a yell that shook the windows, Cael threw a shoulder at Sean, knocking him into Colin. Sean stumbled, kept his footing, and stepped forward, grabbing Cael in a firm grip around the neck.

  “Calm down, now,” Sean spoke slowly, “or, I will hurt you.”

  Cael wrestled his shoulders and twisted his body, but Sean locked his arm, refusing to let his brother go. With a snarl, Cael tossed his goblet at the open fireplace.

  In an instant, flames filled the air.

  I dropped to the ground, screaming as a wave of heat scorched my back. The room became bright as day, and my voice was drowned out in the chaotic scramble that followed. I couldn’t tell who else was yelling.

  As quickly as it erupted, the commotion ended. When I lifted my head, I expected the house to be on fire. Instead, a small glow flickered in the stone fireplace, as if nothing had ever made it grow. Sean held Cael firm. Owen pushed both of his sons toward the hall. Colin had his back against the wall; the strings around the neck of his tunic were charred and the tips of his eyebrows glowed.

  Father held a metal pitcher of water, and searched the room for something to extinguish, but there wasn’t a need. The commotion and the flames had disappeared. He returned the pitcher to the floor next to the stone hearth.

  “I’m sorry about this, Neal,” said Sean, holding his struggling brother tight. He turned to me; his face was flush red and I saw the pain in his eyes. “I’m sorry, Rhiannon. I wanted our night together to be more than this.”

  “I understand,” I said, nodding. I forced back a tear. “It isn’t your fault.”

  Earl shoved Cael in the chest before turning to Colin and bowing. “Sir, I’m embarrassed,” he said. “My son is drunk and his thoughts are twisted.”

  Colin smiled and walked slowly to the kitchen. He reached an arm around his wife. “Earl, you are a noble man, and have a valiant son.” He looked at Cael and Sean without changing his calm expression. “It’s a shame our youthful energy battles aged wisdom, when both seek the same result. One day the sun will rise on our village, and someone who combines both will guide us all to greatness.” He bowed his head. “I search for that day.”

  Earl nodded to Colin, then turned to my father. “I’m sorry, Neal.”

  Father wiped his beard and reached across the room to grab Earl in a large hug. “You’re family now.” He patted Sean on the shoulder. “We’ll greet you again soon. It’s good to have you home.” He poked Cael in the chest. “Get some sleep, boy. There’s no damage here, if you learned something.”

  Cael fought to speak, but Sean covered his mouth and pushed him to the end of the hall. As he passed me, Sean motioned with his head to follow him. Earl offered hugs to Mother and me before rushing to the front door. I took cautious steps after him, but paused when a flurry of curses echoed off the trees outside. I peered out the open front door; Cael was loose and running toward the road. Sean remained on the porch.

  “When can I visit you again?” he asked, turning back toward me. As he stepped forward, Cael slammed the front gate and cursed the moon.

  “You’re my betrothed,” I said. “You can visit me whenever you want.”

  Sean shook his head. “I’ll need to find someone new to come with me, if I’m to visit you after dusk.” He paused, looked behind him, and then glanced over my shoulder. “Unless, I sneak back home in the darkness.”

  “Don’t break the law for me,” I told him. “Maybe Father will allow you to stay the night.”

  Sean chuckled softly. “I don’t think he’s ready for that. He’d stand guard with a short sword at the bottom of the stairs to keep me from wandering up during the night.”

  “Would you try to visit me in the night?”

  His smile revealed the temptation. “Nothing can keep me away from you, now. I wouldn’t put your Father through the grief.”

  Sean squeezed me tight. I could smell burnt ale on his tunic, but I passed my warmth to him and accepted his. I closed my eyes and imagined a night in the near future when we wouldn’t have to say goodbye.

  “I should go,” he said. Sean released his hug and kissed me. “I’ll visit you in a day or two.”

  “Will you come sooner?” I asked. “I’m already missing you.”

  Sean lifted the diamond briolette on my necklace and kissed it. “Here’s a piece of me,” he said. “Whenever you wear this, I’ll be close.”

  I caressed the small jewel.

  Sean smiled and then pulled away. “Goodnight.”

  In the dark, I could only see his shadow and watched it drift away while listening to his footsteps, until they faded into the quiet of the night. I touched the pendant on my necklace once more and imagined it still carried the warmth left by Sean’s lips. Spring suddenly felt so far. After a final glance at the darkness, I rejoined the group inside the house.

  “Is everything all right?” asked Nia, staring at me when I entered the kitchen.

  “Yes,” I answered. “It’s been an eventful night. That’s all.”

  Madeline glided toward me and offered me a hug. “We’re here for you, Rhiannon. All of us.”

  I accepted her warmth and breathed in the perfect scent of minty rose that lingered with her. “Thank you,” I said, sniffling. “Getting married is harder than I imagined.”

  Blood and Aurelia Leaves

  The empty cart rocked and clattered on the uneven path while I pushed it through Aisling. Despite my thick gloves, its vibrating handles made my hands tingle. I stopped pushing, allowing it to roll to a stop ahead of me, and removed the gloves. I massaged my fingers and stared at the sky. The sun was out, but the day was as cold as I could remember. Thankfully, there wasn’t any wind.

  “Let’s go,” said Leila, turning back to watch me. “I want to get there before midday.”

  I cupped my hands together and blew warm air between them. “You can take the cart if you want. I’ll catch up to you.”

  Leila revealed a frozen smile and kept walking. “Go ahead and push,” she said. “I want to keep my hands warm.”

  I replaced my gloves, tightened the top of my cloak and hood, and shoved the cart forward again. Mother had chosen a pitiful day to send us for baking flour.

  When we arrived at Tara Dunn’s stone house, Leila knocked on the front door. I rested the cart near the trunk of a tree. The door opened and Leila disappeared inside. As I approached, a young boy opened the door enough for me to enter.

  “Thank you, Andrew,” I said, relishing the warm air—redolent with the scent of baked bread—that occupied the front room.

  “It’s a cold day,” said Andrew, trying to sound older than he was. He was born the same year as my brother. “I’m surprised you came.”

  “My mother insisted,” I told him honestly. I removed my gloves. “I don’t think anyone should be outside today.”

  I tucked the gloves into my cloak pocket and followed him past the small room and into the kitchen. Leila stood huddled near a large fireplace, rubbing her shoulders. Trips to the Dunn home were normally pleasant; today, the cold had filtered past my layers of stockings and sweaters. I was miserable.

  “Would you both like some warm cider?” asked Tara, as she entered the kitchen. Her apron was covered in flour. She grabbed two wooden goblets from a white cupboard and approached the fire, where a kettle warmed.

  “Yes, please,” Leila and I answered together.

  She filled the cups with copper liquid. “Here,” she said, carefully handing them to us. “This will warm you while I collect your order.”

  I held my cup and watched whimsical curls of steam float and dance before taking my first sip. The sweet cider fire scolded my tongue, but I gulped it recklessly, too cold to care. “We are beholden to you, Tara,” I sa
id, gripping the goblet and absorbing its warmth with my hands. “A few more moments of that icy wind, and I doubt Leila and I would have thawed before Sun Season.” I spoke only half in jest.

  “It’s heavenly,” said Leila. “Tara, you make the best apple cider. I love coming here.”

  While I offered my agreement about the cider, Tara blushed and nodded her thanks before returning to the back room. Her oldest boy, a stocky youth with brown hair that hung below his face, entered the room.

  “Hello, Michael,” said Leila, smiling over her drink.

  Michael winked at her. “Do you want me to carry your order home?”

  “No, thank you,” I said. I warmed my face in the steam of my drink. “We brought a cart.” I set my goblet on a small table and followed him to the front room. “Would you like some help loading it?”

  “No, it’s all right,” said Michael. He waved me back to the kitchen. “I can manage. Enjoy your drink.”

  He listened to his mother’s instructions and then hurried out the front door. A draft of icy air sifted past, making me shiver. Almost immediately, the door swung open again.

  “Wow,” said Leila. She was still smiling. “He’s fast.”

  “Rhiannon?” Father’s shaking voice echoed into the kitchen.

  I moved to the doorway. “Father—why are you here?”

  He filled the tiny room. His face was flush and he was panting. “There’s been an attack.”

  “What’s going on?” Leila bumped into my back.

  “Leila, go home,” said Father. He opened the door. “Rhiannon, come with me.”

  “I don’t understand.” Leila started whining. “What happened?”

  “Leila!” My father’s voice shook the windows of the tiny Dunn home.

  I jumped back, frightened at his fury. I had never seen him act this way. Leila began to sob. She covered her face and brushed past me before running out the door.

  “I’ll have Michael take your flour home,” said Tara, softly. She spoke kindly, but I’ll never forget the worry in her eyes.

  My stomach twisted and pulled, and my instincts told me to follow Leila out the door toward safety, but my feet wouldn’t budge. “Father,” I cried, “what’s wrong?”

  The front door swung open again and Michael stepped into the room. Over his shoulder, past the doorway, I saw Nia and Madeline standing next to a tree. They were huddled together and crying.

  I ran past Michael. “Father?” I was begging. “Please—what happened?”

  He placed a large hand on my shoulder. I felt his breath shudder as he answered. “Sean’s home was attacked,” he said. “He’s missing.”

  Before he finished speaking, I wrestled from under his arm and rushed outside. Ignoring the icy wall of air that met me, I ran to Nia in disbelief. “What’s happening?” I cried.

  “He’s gone,” she whispered. She reached out to me and pulled me close.

  Father put his hand on my shoulder and turned me to face him. “I am on my way to the Bauer farm. Go home and I will come as soon as I know more.”

  “Then I’m coming with you.” My words sounded distant, like echoes from a dream. A nightmare. “There’s some mistake. Sean’s at home. He’s safe.”

  Nia hovered over me. “Cael escaped,” she said. “He came to our house and told my father about an attack.”

  “Then Cael is lying,” I yelled. “Nothing is wrong.”

  “Rhiannon!” Father pulled me close and hugged me so tight that I couldn’t breathe; not that I wanted to.

  “It isn’t true,” I told him, wriggling free from his arms. “He’s not missing. You’ll see.” I shuddered; not from the cold, but from an impulse of emotion that erupted from my stomach. I forced my words out. “Everything is okay,” I said, defiantly. “Someone is mistaken.” I turned and began running towards Sean’s home. I heard Father biting off a curse and Madeline and Nia calling after me, but my focus had narrowed to the path in front of me. Ignoring the bitter cold that had been my only complaint a short while before, I kept running until a stitch in my side forced me to stop.

  I rested only a moment, forcing air into my lungs through ragged gasps, but it was long enough to allow Father to pass me. He quickly disappeared behind a bend. Madeline and Nia caught up to me, offering support and kind words, but I pushed them away and scrambled after my father. When I saw him kneeling on one knee, I stopped. He examined the ground for a moment, then drew a short sword from under his coat and ran toward Sean’s home.

  At the place where he had stopped, I searched the dry brown leaves that covered the trail. What was Father looking for?

  Then I saw the blood.

  My vision darkened as if the sun had suddenly disappeared. The trail of blood—and not just a few drops—led to Sean’s home. Suddenly, I was angry. I clenched my fist and ran after Father. Nia and Madeline yelled behind me. I didn’t understand what they said. I didn’t care.

  I chased Father until reaching the well clearing. There, chaos and destruction stole my disbelief and smashed my remaining hope into tiny pieces. Broken glass, splintered chairs, and blood—a lot of blood—covered the ground around the well. This had been the scene of a tremendous fight. Someone had been badly injured. In front of Eldon’s home, a pair of villagers attended to a man lying on the ground. I caught a glimpse of wispy white hair. Eldon.

  I ran to Sean’s home. “Sean?”

  His front door hung at an angle; its hinges had been broken from force. The front window was shattered. Inside, the round dining table was overturned and a bloodstained knife was buried in one of the legs. Metal plates and forks were strewn across the floor. The fireplace was cold and empty.

  “Sean?”

  I darted toward his bedroom at the back of the house. His bed sheets were smooth, leather boots and sandals lay neatly arranged against one wall, and his window was clear and intact. Inside the small corner closet, folded cotton tunics and wool pants were stacked on uneven shelves. A long spear leaned helplessly in the corner.

  “Oh, please, please be safe,” I chanted repeatedly.

  I stepped back into the hall and glanced into Cael’s room. Though untidy, it also lacked the destruction of the front kitchen and dining area. Back in the hall, splattered blood on the wall and floor trailed to a puddle on the bathing room floor. There, more blood covered a cracked mirror. Tiny chards of glass speckled the small stone counter. A bucket of stained water sat in the corner.

  Alerted by the crunch of broken glass, I left the hall and re-entered the front room. Father towered in the open doorway.

  “Is he here?” he asked, quietly.

  I shook my head and tried to answer. My voice failed me.

  “Madeline is tending to Eldon. Whoever did this knocked his teeth out and cut his tongue. He can’t speak.”

  The gruesome reality that I had fought against struck me like a blow to the stomach. I curled onto the floor and sobbed. “Where is he?”

  Father knelt next to me and covered my shoulders with his cloak. “I don’t know,” he said helplessly. “I don’t know.”

  I couldn’t move; my body refused to answer my need. As I lay curled on the floor, consoled by my father, a shadow covered the doorway. I looked up. Nia was crying.

  “I’m sorry, Rhiannon,” she said. “Oh, I’m so sorry.” She ran across the room and knelt next to us.

  I wiped the tears from my eyes, struggling to see clearly and to focus my thoughts. I turned to Father. “How did you know?” The tears quickly resumed.

  “Nia told us,” he said. “She arrived soon after you left to get flour.”

  “Cael came to the house and told my father,” Nia explained, leaning down to hug me. “I didn’t know it was this bad. I’m so sorry.”

  We sat huddled together until Father stood. He left his large coat on my shoulders. I sniffled. At the overturned table, he removed the bloody kitchen knife and examined it. Without looking at us, he set it down and replaced the table to a standing position. He quietly wa
lked outside.

  “What do you want to do?” asked Nia.

  I shook my head. “I don’t know. What can I do?”

  “Come on,” she said, tugging on my arms. “Let’s get out of here.”

  I forced myself to stand and followed her out of the destroyed room.

  In front of Eldon’s home, Father stood over Madeline. As I replaced the coat onto his shoulders, he reached back and touched my hand. His was warm. Eldon lay on his back, moaning. He was in horrible condition. Bruised and bloody, his face bulged as Madeline wrapped it with strips from a tunic. I reflected on our last conversation, when he had suggested that I find the cave. I thought of his voice and wondered what would happen to him now.

  “There’s nothing you can do here,” said Madeline. She had been crying, and her face was filled with sorrow, but her voice remained low and steady. “Was Cael injured?”

  Nia nodded. “He was bleeding from his face.”

  Father turned to me. “He’ll need your help. Will you go and attend to the boy?” he asked. “I’ll walk you there if you want.”

  “We’ll be okay,” I said, though inwardly, I wondered if that would ever be true again. “It isn’t far.”

  I turned to follow Nia, taking small careful steps around the clutter surrounding the well. When we reached the twisting trail, I leaned on her shoulder and used it for support. The sun was high above, marking the midday, but already I felt drained and weak, as if nature had fooled me. Days like this shouldn’t last as long. With Nia’s support, I staggered to the road. The walk was slow, but eventually, we arrived at the large gate of her home. Nia heaved open the heavy iron, exposing a cluttered courtyard.

  Once inside a pair of large doors, a rush of heat welcomed us, accompanied by the scent of vanilla. Nia’s father demanded a tidy residence and paid others to keep it.

  “Father, where are you?” Nia’s voice echoed off the granite walls.

  When no answer came, she pulled me down the wide hall. “I’m certain they’re in the sitting room.”

  Nia was right. Around the corner at the end of the hall, her father stood next to the wide stone fireplace. Cael lay on one leather couch with a blood stained towel covering his face.