Gypsy's Quest

by Nikki Broadwell

  Dughall.

  I wondered if he had given his blessings or if he still hoped for reconciliation with his wife. Judging from the condition of the paper I would say it still pained him a great deal.

  I gathered my things together, including Kafir’s pack, worrying about where he might be. After reading the letter my heart grieved for him. I followed the trail down, afraid he had fallen and twisted an ankle or broken his leg but there was no sign of him.

  It was dusk by the time I spied lights in the distance and although very tired, I was determined to make it to the village. I had to have some cooked food tonight even if it meant begging.

  “Hello there,” a voice said from the shadows. “Where did you come from?”

  I turned to see a creature standing next to me that looked part human and part hoofed animal. Small horns protruded from the brown curly hair on his head, pale gold goat eyes peering at me from under bushy brows. He stood around four feet, his interested gaze moving from my face to my feet curiously.

  I stared for a full minute before my speech returned. “I…I came from the mountains.” I pointed vaguely behind me.

  “You look nearly dead on your feet,” the creature replied. “If you follow me I’ll take you to the inn.”

  I hesitated, wondering whether everyone in this place was like him. “Don’t worry,” he said. “I’m the only one.” And then he made a sound like the bray of a donkey.

  “I…”

  He waved his hands dismissively. “Everyone who meets me for the first time reacts this way. I’m a satyr. I’m sure you’ve read about my kind but perhaps you thought we were a myth.”

  “Well, yes, I guess I did.”

  He held out a hand that looked human except for the thick fur that covered it. “I’m called Foy. You know of course that satyrs are woodland spirits. The rest of my kind live in the forest to the west.” His face held a forlorn look for a moment and I felt pity for him.

  “My name’s Gertrude,” I said, grasping his fingers. “Why don’t you live in the forest with the other satyrs?

  “I search for lost items. I am very good at it and humans seem to be constantly losing things. Follow me.” He dropped my hand and trotted away and I ran to catch up.

  “Do you mean lost things like—like people? Can you find them?”

  “Now that’s a new one. Who have you lost?”

  “A man--Kafir,” I answered.

  “Kafir often sails into our little harbor. And he does not normally become lost.” Foy stopped to stare at me questioningly.

  “We were together, you see, up on the mountain. We slept in a cave last night, but when I woke he was gone. I waited but after a few hours I thought I better go on without him.”

  Foy shook his shaggy head. “He trades in the towns further to the north. His boat is here. The red sails are hard to mistake.”

  We were going by houses now and thankfully I could see normal-looking people through the windows. Businesses were closed, the doorways firmly latched. “He left his things behind,” I added, holding up the pack as though Foy might doubt my word.

  “Well, that can mean one of two things—either something happened to him or he fled the scene.” Foy brayed as though he had made a huge joke.

  “That’s not funny. He told me he knew people here who might help me until the baby comes.”

  “Are you with child?” Foy asked innocently. “I hadn’t noticed.” He laughed again and turned away. Ahead of us bright lanterns hung from a two-story wooden building. A sign above the doorway read Inn of the Beginning. I followed Foy inside.

  “Yes, we have a room. Do you have anything with which to pay?” The stocky man with bushy eyebrows and gray hair looked me over suspiciously.

  I searched in my pack, pulling out a velvet bag that held my special buttons, sewing things and beads collected over the seven months I had lived in Tolam. “Will this do?” I asked, handing him an oyster shell button. He turned it over in his beefy hands and then looked up and nodded.

  “How long can I stay for that?” I asked.

  “How long do you wish to stay?” he asked.

  “I’m not sure,” I said glancing at Foy. “I have some business I need to attend to.” My fingers traced the lapis bead in my pocket. I didn’t want to part with it, but if I had to I would.

  “From the looks of it,” he said, his eyes going to my belly, “I would hazard a guess that this ‘business’ could take a month or two. This button will give you two nights.” He turned away to help another man who had just arrived.

  “But where’s my room?”

  “Foy will take you.”

  “Do you work for the Inn?” I asked, following Foy up the stairs.

  “Sometimes. I bring in customers and do little errands here and there. Sven can be abrupt, but he treats me well, not like some others in town.”

  He opened a door and went in to light the oil lamp before ushering me through. It was small but it had a sink with running water and a real bed and a window that looked out on the street below. “This is perfect!”

  “The privy is down the hall.”

  “An indoor privy?”

  “Oh yes. It empties into a chute that is collected every day by the poor sod who picks up garbage.”

  “Oh, that sounds disgusting.”

  He shrugged his thin shoulders. “The job pays better than others.”

  “Are you…?”

  “The poor sod? I’m afraid so.”

  I stared at him. “How will you have time to help me find Kafir?”

  “I’ll make the time. Now tell me everything that’s happened.” His hooves clicked across the floor to the bed where he seated himself, gazing at me expectantly.

  ***

  That night I had my first real meal in a very long while. Potatoes, braised chicken and beans went down easily. There were curious stares from other diners, making me uncomfortable and self-conscious--my clothes needed to be cleaned and pressed and I could do with a good wash myself. I had hoped the people here would be less concerned with a pregnant woman alone.

  After dinner I went up to the room and used the sink to wash some of the grime off my body and brush my teeth with the natural bristle brush and peppermint powder Dia had given me. I needed new clothes but where to find them, and more importantly, how I would pay, was a conundrum; I only hoped my beads and crystals could be used for bartering, but when they were gone I wasn’t sure what I would do. When I finally shut my eyes my dreams were filled with the man with the turquoise eyes, as if we were old friends.

  ***

  In the morning Foy told me that Adair was not a frequent visitor here. “She keeps herself young by feeding off younger women,” Foy added, his eyes roaming through the dining room. “There are several here who would fill that requirement, including you.”

  I looked around at the other tables where couples sat over their breakfasts, remembering how weak I felt after my one encounter with her.

  “She wanted your child for some reason and I doubt it was for food,” Foy said.

  “She wouldn’t use a baby to keep herself young, would she?”

  “I doubt it. I’ve heard a story that her son was killed in a terrible flood. Maybe she wants another child to raise.”

  Something skittered across my mind but I couldn’t catch it in time, sighing in frustration.

  Foy regarded me solemnly. “If she wants this baby she will not stop until she has him—or her,” he added with a goatish smile. “She has powers, powers to disappear, powers to move at will. You say your memories are gone. I suggest finding them to determine why she was on that mountain. Adair is not one to do things idly.”

  “Can we go to Kafir’s boat? Maybe he’s back and I can return his pack.”

  Foy nodded, leading the way out of the dining room and down the narrow dirt road

  toward the harbor. We scanned the anchored boats, searching for the red sails.

  “I know it was here earlier,” Foy said, sounding
bewildered.

  “How long ago was that?

  “I saw it yesterday.”

  “But I got here yesterday, and…”

  “So Kafir must have sailed out before you arrived.”

  “So you think he forgot his pack, left me alone on the mountain with the possibility of another encounter with Adair, and then came down here and sailed away?”

  “Do you have another explanation?”

  “Maybe someone stole his boat. He mentioned a safe place for me. The Temple of the Moon, he called it. How far is that?”

  “Too far for you to go in your condition. I know a woman who owns a tiny shack close to the harbor. Her terms will be less harsh than Sven’s. But if Adair’s on your trail you will need assistance.”

  I smiled. “Are you offering?”

  Foy looked away as though embarrassed. “Well…I might be.”

  “How much will I have to pay? For the shack, that is.”

  “Let’s go talk with Solti,” the satyr replied.

  Solti turned out to be an older white-haired woman with very bright blue eyes. She was delighted to have me live in her ‘cottage’ as she called it, although Foy rolled his eyes when she used the word. We followed her along the narrow road leading out of town and up a small hill overlooking the harbor. As soon as I saw the place I knew I could be happy there. It was cozy with a tiny fireplace and an area outside where I could plant a garden. The outhouse was behind and when I checked, there was no bad odor. The view was spectacular, with a forested hill behind, the harbor and the sea in front. A rocky trail wound downward through a meadow of wildflowers ending at a wall of riprap along one side of the dock.

  “I love it!”

  Solti smiled. “In trade I have some sewing I could use help with. I heard a rumor that you might have some ability in this area?”

  I nodded, surprised that she’d already spoken with Sven—for how else would she know of my recently acquired sewing skills? Relief made me almost giddy.

  “And when your time comes I am well-versed in midwifery,” she added with a glance at my protruding belly. “I would say you are less than two moons from delivering.”

  “I would certainly be grateful for your help. As you can see I’m too old to be going through this. It’s my first, or at least I think it is.”

  “So you are the one who has lost her memory,” Solti said, patting my arm. “I doubt very much that you would forget a child. I would say you are correct that this one is your first.”

  “Who told you about my memory?”

  “We have visitors from time to time from Tolam. There have been several stories about a dark-haired woman who appeared mysteriously out of the sea.”

  “I spent several months in Tolam, but they…”

  “They wouldn’t let you remain because of the baby and no man.”

  “That’s right.”

  “We have the intolerant ones here as well, but most are forgiving and will accept you into their midst. And I am well known in these parts and I daresay I have some influence. Now tell me, Gertrude—you truly have no recollection of this baby’s father?”

  I shook my head, watching her eyebrows knit together in doubt. She probably assumed I was trying to escape from a man I didn’t like or a marriage that was too confining. Men seemed to rule here and if any woman dared to defy her husband she could be jailed or worse. I felt as though I’d ended up in New England in the 1700s. Maybe it was a good thing my psychic skills had deserted me; I would hate to be burned at the stake. But on the other hand I was no longer the independent person I remembered.

  “Well, no matter. The baby will be born despite unknown origins. I’ll show you where the well is before I go. Foy can help you to get settled.”

  The Otherworld--2010

  “I’ve sent boats out beyond the perimiters of the Otherworld and no one has seen her.”

  MacCuill gazed at Maeve, his forehead creased. “I have the strong sense that she’s alive.”

  Maeve met his dark eyes, remembering his abilities to move through the dreamtime. He was a druid and a very powerful one. If he couldn’t find her then who could?

  “You need to eat now.” Harold grabbed Maeve’s hand tugging her toward their house. It was in the village of Bannee and sat on a hill overlooking the sea. Abandoned when the war was on, Bannee’s inhabitants had returned, bringing their horses and supplies with them. Leafy crops had already been planted, tilled fields waiting for carrots, beets, and potatoes that would go in on the next full moon. Maeve had delivered a healthy baby girl a week after they arrived, the birth assisted by Tannith, an older woman who had served as midwife for many before the darkness kept the women from conceiving.

  “Harold’s right,” MacCuill said following them toward the door. “It won’t do any good to worry, especially with a newborn to take care of. I will go and speak with Arianrhod and report back.”

  Maeve watched MacCuill disappear into the ether, her mind on the missing woman. A little mewling cry brought her focus to the sling hanging over her shoulder.”I think baby Airmid is hungry too,” she said, unwrapping the red-haired infant.

  Chapter Three

  Far Isle--2450

  I stood outside the front door of the shack, gazing across the hill toward the sea. The horizon was a dark line of indigo where it met the bleached out sky. Although it was close to winter now, the town of Fell was temperate from the warm currents that flowed along the coastline. Most of the people I’d met so far were accepting and I was enjoying my newfound peace. I placed one hand on my burgeoning belly, imagining the baby swimming in the sea of my womb. It wouldn’t be long now. Of course my hopes for a real flush toilet, a proper bed and any other technological improvements in my living situation had been abandoned, but at least I had Solti to help me through the birth, a woman I trusted. She and I had conversed several times about what I should expect once the contractions began. According to her I was a strong and healthy woman and although not young, she thought the birth would go easily for me. Her calm manner put me at ease.

  I dressed in the loose woven caftan Solti had given me, slipping it over my bulk and watching it settle across my belly. It had belonged to her daughter when she was expecting her first child and I was glad to have it since none of my other clothes fit. As I headed down the path toward the harbor, a trip I made every day, a sharp pain went through my back. These pains had been happening for a week now but Solti had assured me they were nothing to worry about.

  According to the traditions here we were in the month of Gormanuour, the time of slaughter and the first of the six months of winter. I tried to count back to when I first arrived, wondering what this corresponded to in terms of the Gregorian calendar. I had purchased my ticket to Scotland right after the New Year and I was definitely not pregnant at the time. After five months in Tolam I was warned about snow in the mountains before I left, which indicated late summer/early fall—Haustmanuour they called it. If I hadn’t traveled to some other time altogether, I had been in Scotland for about a month before the event that brought me here. I must have become pregnant close to the end of January. Gormanuour must correspond to October. I was very close to the nine-month mark.

  I stopped to take off my sandals, anxious to feel the sandy trail between my toes. As I bent over, my stomach growled. My mouth watered as I envisioned fish fried in oil, warm baked bread and goat’s milk, freshly picked greens from my garden.

  For the rest of the way I had to concentrate on the roots and rocks scattered everywhere. I made a mental note to bring a rake along next time. I didn’t look up again until I reached the rock wall and so was very surprised when I spied the boat with rust-colored sails heading toward shore.

  I made my way down to the harbor mouth hoping it would be Kafir and at the same time wondering what I would say to him. My mind whirled in one direction and another as the boat drew close, the skipper skillfully navigating through the narrow harbor mouth. Now I could see the bright-haired man moving forward and
aft, preparing to dock. Letting the boat drift, he pulled down the sails, furling them adeptly. His boat was beautiful, with dark wood and gleaming brass fittings. When the sun glinted off the familiar gold-red curls I felt a flutter of nervousness. He was jumping down now, his gaze toward town. “Kafir!”

  He turned, his eyebrows rising in surprise. And then he was striding toward me. At this point I wanted to run up the hill but in my present state I knew this would be impossible.

  “Gertrude! I had hoped you’d be at the temple by now.” “Where did you go?”

  Kafir looked down for a moment, his hand reaching for mine. “I’m sorry. Something came up.”

  “I was worried about you. Do you have any idea how hard it was for me to carry your heavy pack along with my own?” I pointed to my huge belly, which was twice the size it had been the day he left me in the cave.

  Kafir frowned. “I had intended to come back, but…well, it’s hard to explain. Something called and I had to respond.”

  I thought about the letter about his wife and children—was that where he’d gone in such a hurry? “So are you planning to relay the details of this ‘something’?”

  Kafir sighed shaking his head. “If I could I would.”

  Anger rose in my throat. I wanted to yell at him, to scream about the danger he’d left me in, as though he and I had known each other forever, but this man was basically a stranger. I swallowed, trying to calm my raging hormones, but before I could stop them, tears were streaming down my cheeks.

  Kafir reached for me and I sobbed into his wide shoulder, my nose pressed into his scratchy sweater. “I wish I could explain,” he murmured. “But in my defense I made sure the threat from Adair was over before I left.”

  He released me but held on to my forearms, his furrowed gaze traveling across my face. “So where do you live? How long have you been here? Is it working out? Looks to me as if that baby is ready.”