The Island of Mists

by Wendy Nelson-Sinclair

  ************

  “What about this loom that you were telling me about?” Ralf broke the silence as he directed a question towards our host.

  “Oh yes, the weaving loom. I have this new design that I believe will create a tighter weave, but I am not sure if I have the mechanics of it settled yet. Since you said last night that you are a carpenter of sorts, I thought perhaps you could look at my plans and see if you can find any areas that are in need of improvement.”

  The three men left shortly afterward, leaving me alone to my thoughts. As I sat alone, I revisited the horrific events that I suffered the last time I was here. Still to this day, I could smell the acrid smoke of the burning torch and hear Eadhbert’s maniacal voice ring out in my ears. I shuddered as the memory became too intense. Wanting to banish it away, I got up and set my cup aside to be washed later. After checking on Sibbe and receiving her assurance that she would be fine, I decided to explore the town that I was once so familiar with.

  ************

  Stepping out onto the road was a foreign, yet familiar experience. In the time I had been absent, a lot had changed but much remained the same. Turning to the right, I followed the westbound road and walked at a slow pace, allowing myself the time to take everything in. As I moved, several townspeople—the pub owner, the wool spinners, the blacksmith, even the grumpy-natured the butcher, all waved and bade me welcome. Even though I would never admit it to Ralf, it was wonderful to be surrounded by the delightful, generous, and kind people of this little populace. My walk led me past the Abbey and to the almost-completed hospice that was Mother Adeline’s passion. I strolled across the rolling green landscape and made my way through the plentiful gardens of medicinal herbs and the nuns that nurtured them. I passed by the washerwomen who boiled and scrubbed the bed linens. Under the massive white willow that stood just outside the main entrance of the nunnery, I recognized several familiar nuns that I had worked alongside. I waved at them and they waved back with smiles and welcome.

  “Yvaine?” A soft, authoritative voice called out from behind me. I turned on my heel to find the statuesque form of Mother Adeline standing before me. The heavyset woman was almost as tall as Ralf. Her head towered far over mine. “How good it is to see you again. Tell me, how is it that you’ve returned to us?” She moved swiftly towards me and greeted me with a welcoming embrace. “We were certain that we had seen the last of you when that unfortunate incident with Eadhbert took place. It is such a happy day to have you returned to us. God be praised in his graciousness and his mercy.” The good Mother genuflected and kissed the cross that constantly hung around her neck.

  “My friend encouraged me to return,” I said honestly. I did not want to lie to this wonderful woman who, despite the rancor I possessed at Christianity, was the model of virtuousness and candor and had my utmost respect. For as disgusting as Eadhbert was, Mother Adeline was a true woman of God. Mother Adeline was an honest woman and compassionate. Her kindness was sourced from an ever-flowing font. Mother Adeline believed that their God was a kind and benevolent one. Eadhbert believed otherwise. His views were that all people were born of sin. That their lives should be spent in repentance to be admitted into God’s grace in Heaven. To fail meant an eternity burning in Hell. When I first learned of this belief through Talen, I was surprised at the similarities they shared with my own religion. If we pleased, thanked, and praised the Goddess, she blessed us with prosperity and abundance. If we met her ire, it meant suffering and failure. Mother Adeline was the only one that knew my secret. That I was not a Christian but had remained a believer of the Goddess. In a moment of weakness where I found myself desperately missing Eweln, Ravene, Aunt Leena, my grandmother, and even the life I left behind, I confessed everything to her, including what happened with Cal.

  Mother Adeline was the second person to tell me that being raped was not my fault. That the horrific act was all about Cal’s thirst for power, rather than a weakness within my character. With her deep, gentle voice, she urged me to remember that I was preyed upon by a cold-blooded, maniacal bastard whose soul was as black as tar. She reiterated that I held no blame and that I was beyond fault.

  “From the darkness, you can bring forth light.” She said as I lay against her supportive shoulder. Mother Adeline brushed an errant lock of hair out of my face. “Take the evil memories he has left you with and channel them into something good. Transform that darkness into light and remember that you are not a victim.” She said, her last words a repetition of the ones that Talen spoke long ago. “You are a survivor. You have fought and endured by taking your fate into your own hands.” Mother Adeline left me alone once I had confided in her. Her duties in the hospice could not be denied or delayed. I sat upon the ledge of the arcaded cloister as the breeze blew against my back. Mother Adeline helped me find validation within myself. She had listened and refrained from judgment. She gave me the acceptance that I was still searching for but as I sat there, in the open archway as nuns and priests alike passed by, something was still lacking.

  ************

  My first full day back was spent alongside Mother Adeline. During our time together, I learned that Archard and the other merchants donated a large sum of money to expand the hospice. The goal was to treat as many people as possible, including the sick, the poor and the needy. The influenza epidemic that had taken so many had spurred them into action. When the sun was starting to dip below the horizon, I said my goodbyes and left with a promise to return soon. Torches and braziers were lit to illuminate the road that led back to Archard’s house. I was several minutes from my lodgings when the sudden appearance of a familiar face appeared in the pathway ahead of me.

  “There you are!” Ralf called and skipped ahead to meet me. He came to stand at my side and looked down, his happy face radiant in the firelight. “We were wondering if you had gotten yourself lost.” He said as he began walked in time alongside me. “Archard is looking across the other side of town. He was convinced that you wouldn’t take this path because it is so close to where you were imprisoned.”

  A chill rippled through my body, recalling one of the worst points in my life. I hadn’t realized it until now, but this was the very road that Eadhbert and his goons had dragged me down after they accosted me. My eyes darted ahead, casting their gaze off to the right. To my surprise, my former prison no longer stood. Ralf, ever observant in his nature, spoke again.

  “Archard told me that he had it torn down shortly after you left because if you ever came back, he didn’t want it to stand as a reminder of what happened.” Ralf said without pointing out the void where the unstable structure once stood. “I told him that the Yvaine that I know isn’t afraid to confront what bothers her.” Ralf said assuredly while I remained silent. “How does it make you feel, Yvaine?” His question was not surprising.

  “I’m not exactly sure. It didn’t even cross my mind until just now.” I came to an abrupt stop as I explored how I felt inside. Being imprisoned in that cell was horrifying, frightening, and revolting. As brief as it was, I could still the fetid stench from inside and I could still hear the ghost of Eadhbert’s words. “I’m glad that it’s gone, though.” I admitted after many moments of silence passed. Ralf remained constant at my side. His immense, warm hand rested upon my shoulder.

  “Then I am too.” He said, his hand sliding from my shoulder and resting upon my upper back. “I am sure you are famished. Sibbe roasted chicken tonight. She left you a leg and a piece of breast.” Gently, Ralf urged me forward. We walked the remaining distance to Archard’s house without speaking.

  When we arrived, I noticed that the children had all gone upstairs for the evening and only the adults remained on the lower floor. As soon as she laid eyes on me, Sibbe ushered me over to the table and began to ply my plate with food. Ralf retrieved a cup, filled it with Archard’s good red table wine and set it before me. After offering one to Sibbe, who refused, he poured one for himself and took the seat across from me.

&nbs
p; “Where have you been all day?” Sibbe asked. I glanced up from my chicken and turnip dinner to find her at the wash table, drying a plate.

  “I took a stroll through town earlier and then spent the day with Mother Adeline at the hospice,” I answered. “I was on my way home when Ralf found me.”

  “That I did.” Ralf’s foot nudged mine under the table. “Lost in her thoughts but radiant with contentment.” His compliment caught me by unaware. Emitting a slight, inaudible gasp, I raised my eyes and met his, finding the brilliant orbs twinkling as they gazed back at me.

  “Ralf caught up to me near the old jail,” I said flatly, trying to tamp down the swirl of reactions inside of me. From my peripheral vision, I Sibbe glanced at me and then quickly turned away. No one had yet to mention the horrors that I experienced at the hands of Brother Eadhbert. No doubt my bringing it up made Sibbe uncomfortable but at that point, I saw no need in shying away from it.

  For the first time, I realized that if I was to move on from the savagery and the barbarity, I had to face them directly. Running away and denying their existence would only cause their power over me to grow. Sitting at that table, with my fork in hand, I decided to truly see myself as a survivor in this world. I wasn’t just the young, naïve girl who had left all that she had known behind. I was also a woman who had endured the foreign threats and dangers the outside world had thrown towards me. I chose to do whatever I could to live and to defend myself. As the thoughts repeated inside my brain, I glanced up to find Ralf studying me. He nudged my foot under the table once again and gave me a knowing, supportive smile. That was the last time I would speak of being accused and nearly burned as a witch for many years.

  ************

  Ralf and I stayed on after the Spring Faire ended. While it was underway, Ralf was in his element. He roamed the town and relished in the mix of people, the swirl of cultures, and the chance to learn from the new friends that he made. It thrilled me so see his head towering over the crowd, his face alight with joy while speaking to various people that stopped him along the way. As for me, being at Archard’s stall was like I had never left. As soon as word got out that I was back, people flocked to me in droves, all seeking help for one complaint of another. I handed out my remedies with blinding speed. To my surprise, I sold out long before the Faire ended but remained in place to address questions, inquiries and prescribe answers. As I watched the town hustle around me, I noticed the lightness of Archard’s step and how he beamed with light. Eadlin worked at my side, mixing, stirring, and bottling items to be sold. Aethyln hovered around the stall, running errands for Sibbe and assisting her father. More than once I found her angry eye leveled directly at me. My own anger reared each time I thought back to her hand in Eadhbert’s evil game. All of that changed on Sunday evening.

  The Faire had come to a close. Vendors and sellers were all packed up and ready to leave in the morning. After Archard closed his stall, I found myself restless. Instead of sitting idle, I went to the Abbey where Mother Adeline put me to good use. I helped treat the wounded and the sick until dusk started to erase the sun’s light. I finished up my work and bade everyone goodbye until the following day. As I made my way back to Archard’s, I chose a different path. This one cut through the heart of the town, taking me past numerous storefronts and workshops. I was halfway to my destination when a sharp, ecstatic cry sounded out. Turning by the tavern, I stepped into the small, open space directly behind the building and found Aethyln lying against the wall, disheveled and panting.

  “Aethyln?” I said, surprised to see her so disheveled.

  “Oh, great,” She spat as soon as she saw me. “I suppose you’re here to spy on me and then report to my father.” Her angry words flung at me with an undisguised ferocity.

  “No, I’m not here to spy on you,” I said evenly. “I was walking by and I heard someone groan. I thought someone was injured and I came to offer help.”

  “Sure you were,” Aethyln scoffed as she put herself back to right. “And I’m sure that you don’t approve of what I do, either.” She scoffed again, clearly more scared now than angry.

  “I could care less about how and with whom you spend your time with,” I said honestly. “Where I come from, we don’t see virginity as some sanctified state of being. We enjoy sex because it is a natural part of life. We believe that it was created to be enjoyed and that to deny yourself the pleasures of the flesh is to deny one’s own humanity. You’re not a child anymore, Aethyln. You’re old enough to decide for yourself, and no one should condemn you for it.” To my surprise, Aethyln large, brown eyes met me with disbelief.

  “Do you mean that?”

  “I do,” I said. “My people are quite different from the townsfolk. Women have the same standing as men. Our leader is a woman, and my mother. Women sit on councils. They are the heads of their own households. They have every opportunity that men do. That’s why I will not judge you for your choices. Even with Eadhbert, I understand your reasons for what you did, and I forgive you for it.” The words amazed me as they came out of my mouth. All this time, I had fiercely held onto my anger without realizing that I had forgiven the young, angry girl that stood before me.

  “Yvaine,” Aethyln said weakly after an awkward silence passed between us. “I owe you an apology.” Her admission rocked me to my core. Of all the things for her to say, this was the least expected. “I’m sorry that I accused you of killing my mother. I know that you had no hand in it. Eadlin helped me see that what you did was merciful. That you granted Mama peace in her last moments and that you weren’t trying to get her out of the way so that you could marry my father.” Aethyln admitted as her bitter, acrid scent aura slowly morphed into the fragrance of a sunlit, flower-strewn field. “I’m so sorry. I was so angry. My father barely notices that I’m alive and he doesn’t seem to care that I miss my mother. Mama was always paid attention to me. And then you showed up and you immediately captured his interest and I hated you for it. I took my anger out on you and you didn’t deserve it. I don’t know how I can ever make up for what I’ve done.”

  “There’s no need for that,” I said as I tried to soothe her. “What’s done is done. It’s best that we leave it to the past where it belongs. We can’t change what’s happened, but we can build a better future.” Aethyln agreed.

  “I envy you, you know,” She confessed once more. “You’re fortunate to have a man like Ralf.” Her eyes grew distant as if seeing something else before her.

  “Aethyln, Ralf is my cousin,” I said, disguising the depth of my feelings.

  “That doesn’t mean that he doesn’t love you,” She countered. “You’re lucky because you have something that I will never have.” The mournful ache in her voice broke my heart.

  “Aethyln,” I said. “Don’t think that way. You are still young. There is someone out there for you. Someone that will accept you as you are and who will love you for it.” I did my best to convince her of what I knew. The young girl refrained from responding. To her credit, Aethyln answered with a quick nod and silently walked down the alley until she turned and disappeared from sight.

  I stood in place, unmoving. In just a few minutes, Aethyln and I had buried the discord between us and now, hopefully, we stood together on an easier ground. It bothered me to see the anguish that the uncertainty of the future instilled in her. Aethyln’s unhappiness had spurred her towards poor decisions. From our brief talk, my eyes were opened to things that they had been previously blind to. Aethyln’s outbursts stemmed from the lack of attention from her father. Growing up overlooked left wounds that never fully healed. I knew all too well from where Aethyln was coming from. I also grew up overshadowed, overlooked, and ignored. With a heavy sigh, I resumed my walk back to Archard’s. When I arrived, I planned on having a talk with Archard. Even though I tried to keep from being alone with him, I was determined to take him aside and make him see how unfair he was towards his eldest daughter. As his friend, Archard needed to made aware of his mistakes bef
ore it was too late, for his Aethyln’s sake, and his sake too.

  ************

  A soft hum filtered out from Archard’s home as I approached the front door. Just as I reached out for the latch, the sound of voices caught my attention. Creeping towards the corner of the house, I pressed myself against the wall as I listened to Ralf and Archard in deep discussion.

  “I can’t wait to show everyone the new loom,” Archard boasted with a hearty, proud laugh. “Especially Yvaine. I just know that she’ll love it.” He added with certainty. “Speaking of Yvaine, I have something to ask you.” Archard paused. A sudden shuffle of feet filled the air until he resumed speaking. “As you know, I admire your cousin deeply. She will have my undying respect all her days. She’s an honest woman with a tender heart and the people of the town like her.” He rambled off while both Ralf and I listened. “And she’s beautiful. So much more than the women of this town. She’s…different. Intriguing, intelligent, and unique. I want your permission to ask her for her hand. I’m sure you’ve noticed how much I care for her. I know she will be a good wife to me, and I will be the best husband to her. Knowing that, what say you? Do I have your permission? May I have her hand to take for my own?”

  My pulse throbbed in my ears as I waited impatiently through the tense pause between them. What would Ralf say, I couldn’t help but think as each pregnant pause stretched out further.