The Island of Mists

by Wendy Nelson-Sinclair

  Ralf continued to tell our children of our friendship, of our time in Porthfoist, and how he fell in love with me.

  “On the night that Archard asked you to marry him,” Ralf said, suddenly catching me off guard. “When he asked my permission to marry you, I took everything within me to not snap his neck. I didn’t know how much I loved you until he tried to assure me that he’d be a good husband to you. Little did he know that I would have never let him go through with it, even if you had said yes. And I can’t describe how relieved I was when you said no. I knew then that there was only one man meant to be your husband and that’s me.” Ralf admitted, providing answers to long-held questions that I had had over the years. “When you came in and announced that you had refused him, I wanted to weep with joy. That is why I wanted to leave town and go back home.” Ralf gazed at me as his loving hand wrapped itself around mine. “I can never be without you, Yvaine,” He brought my hand to his lips, catching the attention of several of the nuns close by. “I will love you until the last breath crosses my lips.” I leaned into him, unable to put what I felt into words. Ralf kissed my temple and caressed my cheek to tell me that there was no need to say anything. He knew that I loved him and that nothing would ever change that.

  Ralf returned to his tale. He told Gweneth of our intentions to rejoin his people and move back to the Northlands. He described in depth how we were ambushed by a band of nomadic thieves and how he had tried to defend us but had been completely outnumbered. Ranulf, knowing the end of the story, let out a deep, sleep-deprived yawn and got up from the table shortly after that.

  “Good night, my son,” I touched his arm as he went to leave us.

  “Good night, mother,” He leaned down to kiss both my cheeks, as well as Gweneth’s. A nearby nun cleared her throat with uncomfortable warning. Fully aware of her disapproval, Ranulf kissed Gweneth again before patting the back of her head. Ranulf went to Ralf last, and let a light hand rest briefly upon his father’s shoulder before leaving the dining hall. The love of my life and his daughter continued talking over the next hour and a half. Realizing they had many common interests, they filled the time discussing his adventures, Gweneth’s decision to take vows, how I saved her from participating in the Rites, Ralf’s life after our separation and, what had called him to Christianity.

  “A man named Father Geoffrey,” Ralf answered solemnly as his clasped hands rested on the table before him. “Father Geoffrey regularly came to trade and barter with the people of the settlement. In addition to trading, he also performed baptisms for those who wanted to convert. He was there when I was brought to the settlement. Father Geoffrey had a working knowledge of medicine and offered to help. He tended to my wounds and once I was able to move around, we went on long walks. One night as we sat eating, he asked me of what troubled me. At first, I stubbornly stated that nothing was the matter and that he should mind his own business. Father Geoffrey was a perceptive man and he immediately saw through my deception. He talked to me about his life, how he had come from across the sea to become a priest. He asked questions about where I was born, but all the while kept urging me to speak of what bothered me so. It was only after many of the others had left the hall and had fallen asleep, that I felt comfortable enough confiding in him of the great weight that I carried within me.” Ralf leaned forward, letting his arms rest on the table and gave me a brief glance before he continued. “I told Father Geoffrey about how your mother healed me and how I loved her more than my own self. I told him of her beauty and her intelligence. Her remarkable skill. How at times it was as if we were one person, rather than two. He listened quietly as I told him how we were torn apart and, even though I feared she was dead, nothing would stop me from finding her. We talked well into the morning hours, me telling him my tale of woe as he listened with a quiet, sympathetic ear.”

  “When dawn was starting to peak over the mountains, we left the table and parted as friends. He encouraged me to never give up my search and that he would pray that my love be returned to me. It was then that Father Geoffrey asked me if I followed the old religion or if I was a Christian.” Ralf sighed deeply. “I answered him honestly. I told him that I had turned my back on the gods of old because they failed me when I lost your mother. I told Father Geoffrey that I was no longer a man of faith and just lived day to day, lost and afraid that I would never find the missing piece that would make me whole. Father Geoffrey simply nodded and left me standing there in the early morning light. Over the course of three seasons, he came back to the village and often spoke to me of his faith. We spent many nights beside the campfires as he shared tales from the Bible. It was on the last day we shared together that he asked me if I would like to be baptized as a Christian. He didn’t know it but through his steadfast guidance, I had been praying and speaking to God in my quiet moments. It was within God and his son Jesus that I found my salvation and was able to make peace with what happened.”

  “He sounds like a kind, devout man,” Gweneth asked with a neutral tone. “What Abbey does Father Geoffrey belong to?”

  “Father Geoffrey belonged to a monastery on the eastern coast of this land, near a series of lakes, large hills, and vast, dense green valleys. The monks there were a small group of men that were very dependent on trade and the bartering of goods to survive. They often traded with a remote island colony located near their monastery. The last time they visited us, they came as a sickness swept through the village. Father Geoffrey helped treat the sick but caught ill just as the others were starting to mend. He fought valiantly as the sickness ate away at him, but he was not strong enough to survive it. We buried him in the monastery’s graveyard. I built the cairn that marks his final resting place.”

  I was surprised to see how our daughter was visibly moved by her father’s passionate remembrance of his dear friend. She said as much and realizing the time, thanked her father for the conversation, as well as his company during dinner, and excused herself.

  Gweneth left us alone, sitting beside one another at the long, empty table. The fire that had burned and blazed in the hearth earlier had died down to a pile of glowing embers. I yawned and stretched, feeling the effects of today’s excitement taper off and how it drained me. Ralf wrapped an arm around my waist as we sat together, quietly listening to the faint pops and whistles coming from the remnants of the fire.

  “Does she always end conversations that abruptly?” Ralf asked me as he reached out and grasped a pitcher of water that had been left behind for us.

  “Only when she gets emotional,” I answered with a smile. “She gets that from her Aunt Reena. She’s a lot like her in that regard. Reena wasn’t one to speak of her feelings much either. I often think it embarrasses them to be reminded that they are human.”

  “Reena? Her great-aunt? I thought Reena was your mother’s name?” My love was visibly confused.

  “Oh, Ralf. There is so much that you have missed.” I leaned into him as I prepared to tell him the truth. “When Leena was on her death bed, she confessed something to me. Something terrible that had been done to her. A secret that she was forced to carry for many years.” I began slowly, taking painstaking care to make sure that I didn’t miss any part of what was once told to me. “Leena called me to her one afternoon and told me that she carried a secret—a secret that she promised Reena that she would never tell me. That on the night that I was born, a maidservant switched me for Reena’s stillborn child that died.”

  Ralf’s eyes widened with surprise while his mouth fell open. “Surely you are having me on?” He said, not quite believing what I said.

  “It’s the truth. Reena’s child was the one that died. If she had been honest, all hell would have broken loose. The people would have blamed her for any wrong that would have happened. The possibility of losing her position as High Priestess was all too real, and she could not stand to think that her sister had succeeded where she failed. Jealousy and greed fueled her decision to take me for her own and give Leena the stillborn.r />
  “What kind of person could do that to someone? Especially their sister?”

  “A cruel, insecure, and minuscule one,” I said confidently, holding no illusions when it came to Reena and the decisions that she had made. “I always thought that she was just like the Goddess when I was younger. Perfect at anything that she put her mind to. But as I’ve gotten older, I have come to see that she was just human. One who was imperfect, with flaws and insecurities.”

  “Humanity is nothing to be ashamed of. I hope Gweneth learns that lesson.” He gave voice to his observations. “I couldn’t help but see how severe she is with herself. How she doesn’t allow her emotions to get away from her to the point where she has shut them off completely. It’s like she doesn’t know that her humanity is the best part of her.”

  “We know that, but she is so focused on being worthy of God’s love that she forgets to experience love and accept compassion for herself. I have come to realize that it’s just her nature. After all, her great-aunt was that way. Her great-grandmother was that way, too. It is only right that she follows in their footsteps. Despite it all, I love her for it.”

  Ralf pulled me closer. The woodsmoke from the fire had settled into his clothes, adding an earthiness to his natural scent. His head leaned against mine. He inhaled deeply as he buried his face in my hair. Unlike the others of the convent, I refused to wear the scapular and veil. I kept my hair plaited behind me and wore a headband embroidered with images of stags, forestry, and nature. It was my tribute to my roots. Several of the other nuns secretly admired the beautiful design but refused to admit it, afraid to say so because it went against the ways of Christ. My headband, as well as the embroidered hem of my dresses, was one of the many ways that I continued to honor the Goddess. I kept it modest though, to try not to draw too much attention so that it would embarrass the others. Ralf’s presence reminded me of the loneliness that I sometimes felt here. I was glad to have the others around for daily conversation and lucky enough to have my daughter near, but their companionship was not the same as what I had with my friends back on the Island. Nor was it close to the bond I shared with the man I loved.

  “What are you thinking of, my love?” He whispered close to my ear and kissed me on the neck, just below my earlobe.

  “I was thinking how there are no words to describe my happiness at this moment.” I leaned into him, just as I had done so many years ago, and found familiarity and comfort.

  “Yvaine? I have a question. Where am I to sleep tonight?” He implored. I knew that he wanted to spend the night with me. I felt the nervous anticipation tense the muscles of his hand. My thoughts went to his newly professed spirituality. I knew enough from my time here that sex outside of the bonds of marriage was strictly forbidden in the Christian belief. It was especially strong in those of deep, dedicated faith, or new initiates. Part of me wondered if that was the reason why he was asking.

  “Doesn’t your faith forbid you from lying with me outside the bonds of marriage?” I put my doubts into speech.

  Ralf pulled me against him. So close that I could still see the slight, thin brown ring that encircled the circumference of his pupils. “Yvaine.” He kissed me tenderly, just like he had many times before. “You know that we were married a long time ago. Our vows may not have been formal, but our spirits have been married since that moment. We are husband and wife. There is no law in Heaven above or on Earth that will ever challenge that. I am your husband. You are my wife. Our love created two of the most precious beings that walk this earth.” His hand slid slowly down my cheek and sent ripples of joy through me. “God smiles upon us. He wouldn’t have led me back to you if he didn’t.” He kissed me slower and deeper than before.

  “Come,” I pulled him from his seat, urging him to follow me. Even though I had been living at the abbey for many years, my spirit had never quite become accustomed to the idea of being confined in this unnatural, man-made place. There were moments when the high walls became suffocating, causing me to feel trapped, boxed in, and unable to break free. My soul longed for the openness of Island life and that longing had urged me to seek out a place where I could go to just be alone, free from the confines of this structure and once again taste my former liberty. That place where I sought refuge was a small cave tucked away in the heart of the small, yet dense forest located behind the abbey. It was a natural cave carved in a large rock outcrop and was well-hidden by a vast amount of greenery.

  “There’s a place that I discovered when I went out looking for berries,” I took hold of his hand and together, we walked through the halls and were soon outside. The full moon hung serenely in the dark, star-filled sky that rested over our heads. A cool breath of air blew in from the east and brought the scent of an oncoming storm. Together we walked silently, Ralf followed the steps that I took across the open fields and then through the forest. A quarter of an hour passed before we reached our destination. “The entrance is just there.” I pointed, seeing the large stone in the sparse light. I had placed it to pinpoint the entrance to the cave to help me find it on the nights when it was dark.

  “You have a cave!” He said excitedly as he swept me up, swung me around, and put me down. “Yvaine, this looks so much like our first home.” He beamed. I could tell that he wanted to break away to rush inside, but he kept himself in control and allowed me to lead. Together we entered the small grotto. I let him go and went to the center where I had built a hearth. Kneeling, I felt around in the darkness to see if the logs and kindling sticks were still there. Each time, before I left the cave, I left the makings for a fire. Once I assured myself that everything was intact, I took out the flint stones that I had carried since I was sixteen and struck them together. Several sparks lit up the black air. After many tries, a small, dried clump of hay caught fire. I used the embers to build the blaze that would keep us warm through the night.

  “Aren’t you afraid that someone will see the light outside?” Ralf asked as he joined me at the fire’s side. He sat down on one of the blankets that I had spread out, but I could see that the warrior in him was still on guard. A life lived in that manner was not easy to take off and hang on the wall. It was forever a part of him. It was just one of the parts why I loved him unconditionally.

  “The trees provide a dense enough covering that no light is visible from any distance beyond the wood.” I pointed to him. “And I only burn the fire at night so that the smoke is not visible. When the light is better, you can see that there is a natural chimney just there.” I gestured to the ceiling, pointing out the small, disc-shaped hole that had normally worn out of the rock surface. “No one goes in this forest except the residents of the Abbey. The church owns it and the farmers that live just beyond are very protective of it. The Abbey provides aid when the villagers and farmers are unable to provide for themselves.” I carefully explained, hoping to set his mind at ease. “We are safe here. Gweneth will know that I have come here when she goes to check on me later.” I did my best to assure him, but I could sense that he still possessed a good amount of unease. “Talk to me. Tell me what it is that is bothering you.” I echoed his words from long ago as placed my hand on his thigh and gazed into the strong features of his face. The way they glowed in the bright firelight awed me to my core.

  “Yvaine, I have waited so long for this moment,” He held me close as he gazed into my eyes. “I was starting to believe that I would never see you again—” His voice broke off suddenly. His bright eyes glistened as they stared into mine. Our faces were so close that our noses almost touched. My heart felt as if it were going to burst with a mixture of happiness and sorrow. Happiness from being reunited with him. Sorrow from spending too many years apart. Ralf’s fingers went to the laces of my dress. I shivered as he skillfully undid the. His mouth possessed mine momentarily as my dress slipped from my body and pooled at my feet.

  “My God, Yvaine,” His raspy voice thickened with unspent ecstasy. “You’re so beautiful. How can you be this beautiful?” He
pressed his forehead to mine, savoring the intimacy of the moment. “God, I’ve missed you.” His lips left a trail of feathery kisses across my forehead and down my neck, coming to rest along the length of my shoulder. “I can’t believe you’re here.”

  “I know,” I kissed along the line of his jaw as my hand snaked up into his salt-and-pepper colored hair. My mouth sought his in the firelight and when our lips connected, the passion that had once consumed us so returned powerfully. “When I lost you, I swore that I would never be with another man,” I whispered as his mouth left mine and sought out the tender, sensitive skin where my neck and shoulder met. Ralf’s tongue caressed its way downward and was moving in rhythm with his lips but stopped suddenly as I finished speaking.

  “What?” He pulled away and locked eyes with me again. “What did you say?” I swallowed hard as I met his stare.

  “I have not been with another man since you,” I said honestly. “I couldn’t. There were men that offered, especially when it was time for the Rites, but I could never bring myself to do it. I felt as if I were betraying you.”

  Ralf stared with awe before he claimed my mouth, kissing me deeply. The ecstatic spell swept us up into its embrace and refused to let go. Tonight was just as magical as the first. The night he asked me to leave and travel back home to him. The night when we first made love. That same magic reawakened between us. Tonight was the first night of the rest of our lives. We passed the hours, rocking in time with the primal heartbeat that only we could hear, worshipped each other, professing our love, and promising that only death would part us again. A night where I fell asleep, complete and content in the arms of the one I loved.

  TWENTY

  Faint shouting brought me out of a deep slumber. Ralf stirred at my side, groaned, and rolled over. I had slept well—far better than I had in years, even though it had only been a few short hours. Ralf continued to gently snore at my side. I had fallen asleep studying the features of his body in the firelight. His body had not changed much since he was a younger man. His shoulders were still as broad as any I had ever seen. His chest was muscled, well-defined, and promised power. His middle had slightly thickened, but he was still lean and solid. The scar from the wound that I tended had faded to a pale, almost silvery white rope. As I watched him in the darkness, I couldn’t believe that he was here, lying naked beside me and that we had spent the deep night hours making love as we once had. My body was loose, lithe, sated, and I relished in it. Sex with him was something beyond the physical. It was an out of body experience that transcended time and space. After my rape, I believed that I would never enjoy being with a man, but Ralf had changed that. He taught me that trust was the major part of giving oneself to another person. That to truly love, you must give someone the power to hurt you but to trust that they never would. Ralf promised me that I was safe. That I could give myself to him, heart, mind, body and soul, and he wouldn’t abuse what I entrusted to him.