“It’s bigger than I imagined,” Ralf said as he took a step away from me, but his fingers remained resting upon my arm. “When you told me about it, I kept envisioning our first home.” He said as he let me go to explore. As Ralf investigated the room, I could see the planner’s wheels working within the frame of his mind. He crossed the floor back and forth, stopping here and there momentarily as his fingers rested against his lips while he thought. Leaving us, he went towards the back, behind the great stone hearth where individual rooms had long been carved from the rock. Rooms where Reena, Ravene, and Aunt Leena once slept. Rooms where there was no space for me, forcing me to sleep in the open space along the cave wall.
“We’re going to need something to sit on,” Ranulf said, drawing my attention away from Ralf. “I’m going to go back down to the market to see if there’s a furniture merchant willing to trade or sell us some chairs.”
“While he’s doing that, I’m going to get some wood to start building what else we will need.” Ralf announced as he returned to the room. Giving me a kiss goodbye, he and Ranulf both exited our new home, each intent on seeing their tasks completed.
“Well,” I turned towards Gweneth. “What do you think?”
“There was someone here with you before we arrived,” She said with a certainty that sent a ripple down my spine.
“There was,” I saw no point in lying to her. Gweneth’s gift was the ability to detect spirits. A gift that she inherited from her many-times-great-grandmother, Maren. “Reena was at the hearth when I came inside. She had some things to say, things to settle, and put to rest.”
“She feels different than when I experienced her when I was young,” Gweneth admitted much to my surprise.
“When did you experience her, my love?”
“When I was at the Scrying Well when I was six,” Gweneth said. “I was searching for Ranulf when I passed by the Well and a woman’s voice called out to me.” Gweneth’s eyes darted from the hearth to me and back. “When I looked into the water, I saw a beautiful woman with golden blonde hair and piercing blue eyes. I remember the way it curled about her face and rested upon her shoulders. Her mouth was curved into a smile but there was something in her eyes, something that I didn’t trust. She called for me to come closer to the water but when I refused, she turned on me, spitting and cursing me, calling me an ungrateful brat who should obey her mother!” The memory unsettled Gweneth to the point that she started to shake fearfully.
“I have no doubt that she mistook you for me,” I tried to reassure my daughter to the best of my ability. “When I was younger, I often looked into the waters, hoping for some magical vision. Reena always caught me and chastised me for it. She called me willful and disobedient. She was cruel and didn’t hesitate to unleash her viper’s tongue on me. I have no doubt that it was her spirit that called to you.”
“That may be so,” Gweneth half-turned where she stood but glanced at me out of the corner of her eye. “But her threats of violence had no power over me.” She declared bold and courageous, a mixture of both me and her father. “I told that spirit to go back to the hell that she came from. That her ugly words and empty threats had no authority from beyond the mortal coil, and that Jesus Christ was the protector of my immortal soul.” Gweneth’s steadfast belief in her God and his Immortal Son provided her with the strength to battle against what plagued her. Not for the first time, I stood proud at the woman that she had become, but also because she had the power of her convictions and nothing would intimidate her away from it.
“She’s gone now,” I pointed towards the chimney stack rising up from the hearth. “She flew up through there,” I motioned the path she took with my finger. “When she asked for forgiveness, I gave it to her and wished her to be at peace.”
“And she is, Mother,” Gweneth crossed the length of the room and joined me where I stood. Together, we eyed the hearth and knew that all of us together could turn this cold, dark, damp cave back into a warm, vibrant and loving home. “Now, why don’t we go on to Runa’s house.” Gweneth’s soft palm was suddenly against mine. “She and Desten are throwing a welcome home party for all of us. He suggested that we get there early so that there is plenty of time to meet and greet everyone.” Her vibrant, blue eyes lit up at the thought of being reunited with her favorite cousin, Runa, and the rest of our family.
With a head bob, Gweneth allowed me to use the support of her arm as we left the cave and made our way down, and onto Runa’s house, located just north of the communal gardens.
************
Our first night home was filled with delicious food, raucous laughter, with hours spent retelling old, fond memories, and listening with rapt attention at the stories the newcomers had brought with them. By the time the moon was at its peak, I could barely keep my eyes open as yawn after yawn urged me closer and closer to slumber.
With no beds to go to back at our home, Runa, Desten, Brawyn, and several others offered their spare beds for the next few nights. Ralf and I slept under Runa’s roof, along with Gweneth, while Ranulf and the other men distributed themselves elsewhere. I slept dreamlessly for the first hour before I woke suddenly for no reason. I lay silently, unmoving in Ralf’s arms as I stared at the silvery, lunar orb in the sky and the thousands of stars temporarily blinded from view from its bright light. My body molded into the mattress and the pillows while Ralf’s body heat and the covers over us kept me warm under the cool night air.
As I lay quietly, my memories came to revisit me. Not actual events, but more like bits of pieces of the people that I loved. Ravene’s laughter mingled with the night birds’ song. Eweln’s spirit floated in with the fresh scent of damp earth and clover. Leena’s voice came to me with the bleats of newborn lambs in the fields behind us. Ibira’s song carried in on the wind, as well as the lingering scent of the dying fires. Emira’s dark eyes were there in the heavens above, watching all of us with the tender care that was her legacy. Talen was in the rough stones of the walls, a steady, indefatigable, protective support to those who needed shelter. The Hermit was the rustle of the trees, gentle and free as it passed by. I could hear Archard and Eadlin in the steady clacking sounds of a loom working off in the distance. Last but not least, Reena returned. She hovered over me as I stared at the sky, protecting me in a way that she was incapable of while bound to Earth. She remained, resting and protecting, ever watchful until Ralf rolled over, snorted, and temporarily disturbed the peace of the night.
I lay awake until just before dawn. As the Sun rose, I caught a few hours of sleep until the crow of a nearby rooster pulled me from my sleep and announced the start of the new day. Ralf was already dressed and gone by the time that I went out to greet my family.
“Good morning, Aunt Yvaine,” Runa stood before her hearth, watching as oatcakes baked on a tray situated into grooves cut into the fireplace, solely for the purpose of baking. “I thought I’d treat you to your favorite breakfast this morning.” Runa added with a smile that was the mirror image of her mother’s.
“That is so kind of you, sweetheart,” I walked over to where she stood, kissed her forehead, and offered to help.
“No, you’re not going to help today. You’re still my guest and you’ve just come back. You can help out tomorrow, but today, you are to just sit and relax.” She ordered and pointed towards a nearby chair. “Gweneth told me that your leg has been bothering you since you left the Abbey,” Runa said as she flipped several cakes over. “The woman that runs the herb sheds now found a collection of scrolls and books hidden under a false shelf in her home. She moved into Eweln’s former hut just after the attack.” My heart leapt inside my chest at the mention of Eweln’s name.
“Perhaps after breakfast, I’ll walk over and say hello,” I said, already set to go.
“I’m sure she’d like that. You probably know her, anyway. She used to be an Acolyte on the Sacred Island. One of the boatmen stowed her away in a thick bramble of trees and shrubs. They were in love, you see, but we
re forbidden to be together because of their vows. Well, with all the changes, no one objected to their marrying and living together. Their son just turned one.”
“What is the woman’s name?” I asked.
“Mira,”
“I remember Mira fondly,” I said with a smile. “She taught me how to fish.” I chuckled, remembering when she taught me how to noodle for my dinner. “I’ll go and see her after breakfast, if you don’t mind.”
“I don’t mind at all, Aunt.”
Runa and I ate in companionable silence. Before I left, I offered to help clean up, but Runa adamantly refused. I left her home, fondly thinking of how she shared her mother’s stubbornness. Her new husband, Eslan, offered to see me along the way, since he was headed in that direction and my knee was unsteady from the moment that I woke.
Mira wasn’t at home when I arrived at her door but her husband, one of the boatmen that I had known, answered the door with their young son resting in his arms. We spoke briefly before he informed me that Mira was at the sheds and that she’d been anxious to see me since learning of my return.
Mira stood chopping up mint leaves when I rapped my knuckles on the door. A wide, delighted smile spread across Mira’s mute mouth as she recognized me. She abandoned her work and rushed towards me. She greeted me with a tight, welcoming, and affectionate hug.
“I’ve been so excited to see you again,” Mira signed in the language that I had not forgotten. “I’ve been wanting to come see you, but I didn’t want to intrude.”
“You should have come to the party,” I said aloud while signing back. “I was curious as to why you weren’t there.” Mira’s mouth quirked at the end as she pointed towards her mouth.
“Son is teething,” She explained. “I didn’t want his crying to ruin everyone’s enjoyment. Besides, he wouldn’t settle amongst all those people. The noise bothers him at times.” She added before motioning for me to come inside.
“You’ve done wonders in here,” I said as I stepped across the threshold to discover the sheds were far more organized and cleaner than they were back when I once worked in them.
“Eshara and Thelyn are neat freaks,” Mira laughed and signed one-handed as she grabbed a jar and thrust it into my hands. “For your knee,” She pointed towards my leg and pantomimed limping. “It’s Boswellia. The Christians call it frankincense. I used your recipe for beeswax as the carrier.” She urged me to apply it right then and there. Knowing that Mira wouldn’t let me go otherwise, I stopped and applied the salve to my knee. “There’s ginger and aloe in it, too.” Mira watched before going back to work. “Do you think that your leg will allow you to help me prepare this batch of dandelion?”
A thrill shot through me as I gladly put on an apron and got to work. The hours flew by blissfully. I was in my element grinding, sifting, shredding, and crushing dandelion leaves for remedies and chopping the root to be dried for tea.
“Mira, I can’t thank you enough for today,” I signed as I got ready to leave. A glance outside moments before showed that the light had changed and what was once mid-morning was now on the verge of twilight.
“I am thankful for the help,” Mira signed back. “I can always use an extra set of hands. Would you like to come back to help me regularly?” Overjoyed at the prospect of returning to what I loved, I instantly said yes and bade Mira goodbye with a hug and a promise to return soon. I wanted to skip the entire way back to Runa’s but again, my wouldn’t agree. I arrived at Runa’s a few minutes later and found both Ralf and Brawyn sitting outside.
“Good evening, my love,” Ralf waved as he caught sight of me coming down the path. “Runa tells me that you’ve been at the herb sheds all day,” He rose to greet me with a kiss. I eagerly returned his affection and said hello to Brawyn.
“Yes,” I sighed contentedly. “I was helping Mira prepare dandelion.” I said, unable to keep the smile from off of my face.
“I can see that you’ve had a good time,” Ralf kissed me again before offering me his seat and taking the one beside it.
“I did, but what about you? What have you done with yourself today?”
Ralf leaned back and stole a glance at his companion. “Brawyn’s going to teach me how to blacksmith.” He announced and like me, was unable to contain his enthusiasm.
“Ralf has a genuine interest in learning. My mentor has agreed to take him on as an apprentice as well. Ralf’s mentioned that he’s always been interested in ironwork and wants to seize the opportunity to learn.”
“Is that so?” I said, surprised to learn something knew about the man that I already knew so well.
“I have, but I am still going to work on my carpentry,” He announced as he jumped up from his seat and disappeared momentarily. Ralf soon returned carrying the beginnings of an elegantly carved chair. One similar to the chair that supported him every night when we were younger and lived together in the cave. “I started on this today. Ranulf and I set up a shop in the forum and due to our daughter’s prowess in treating burns and removing splinters, the wood cutter gave us a bit of lumber in exchange for Gweneth’s services.”
I couldn’t have been happier at that moment if I had tried. Everything seemed to be falling into place. As I watched Ralf discuss the design with Brawyn, I couldn’t help but think that the Goddess was smiling her favor down upon us and that coming back to the Island was the right idea. As the two men became more engrossed in their talk, I made my leave and went inside. To my surprise, both Gweneth and Runa had dinner ready and minutes later, all the adults—including Brawyn—were seated at the table, feasting on roast mutton, boiled herbed potatoes, a mixture of fresh carrots and peas, and warm, hearty bread that piped steam as Runa’s husband cut it into pieces.
************
The following morning, Desten appeared on the doorstep, carrying a basket of eggs for his sister and an eagerness to see both me and Ralf.
“Oh good, you’ve brought them,” Runa clapped her hands together before taking an egg-filled basket from her brother. “Those hens that you bartered for are quite the layers. When they have chicks, do you mind if I take some from you?” She added the last part absently as she began to sort through the bag of goodies.
“Of course, you can,” Desten said before turning his attention towards the table. “Good morning Aunt, Uncle.” He nodded our way, noticing that both Ranulf and Gweneth were already off to an early start. “I was wondering if I could talk to the both of you today,” Desten said as he moved to the table and took a seat across from Ralf.
“You may,” I said, pushing a plate of fresh currant oatcakes towards him, urging him to eat. Desten glanced from the plate to me and back. The action reminded me of when he was a little boy and Ravene had the toughest time getting him to eat.
“It’s a wonder he doesn’t starve to death, Yvaine,” She said in her final days. Just before her death, she made me swear to make sure that he ate and ate well.
“No, thank you, Aunt” Desten attempted to push the plate away.
“I’m not going to talk to you until you eat something,” I said, using a gentle forceful persuasion to see Ravene’s wishes fulfilled.
With a little boy’s grimace, Desten relented and gobbled down a single oatcake without complaint.
“Now, I’ll talk to you,” I laughed victorious.
“Just like Mama,” Desten said as his eyes glossed over temporarily as his mother came to mind. “But that’s not why I came here,” He turned his attention equally to both Ralf and me. “I was wondering if you would take a walk with me. There’s something that I want to show you.”
Ralf and I shared a look and rose from our seats. Bidding Runa farewell, we left the house and followed Desten through the gardens, across the Forum, past the Scrying Well and up the short slope to the collection of blue and sarsen stones where the High Council met.
“What are we doing here?” I couldn’t help but ask as I glanced around the open space around us. More stone seats had been built since the
Island fell. The fire pit was now ringed with large, roughly cut charred stones, and trees in various states of growth had been planted around the ring.
“This is where we set and decide the rules and regulations over how we live. We settle arguments here, conduct debates, and decide who stays and leaves.” Desten said, gesturing to the open space as he stepped further into the circle.
“The High Council still stands?” I said shocked that our political system had remained after all the Island had seen.
“No, not exactly,” Desten moved to stand alongside me. “Shortly after Runa and I returned, all of the survivors and those that returned decided that we needed governing but that we needed an updated form than what we had in the past.” He paused briefly as a gentle gust of wind blew at our backs. “We formed a Council, you see. Not a High Council, but council of equals. A set number of elected members from each group that would keep peace on the Island, with no group having more and no group having less. I was elected to sit upon it right after its formation. Like before, men and women are allowed to hold positions but the Christian side refuses to allow women and is made up of all men. For the life of me, I can’t understand why they think that women can’t be equal to men in thinking and knowledge. Even though I am a Christian, I sit on the Goddess’ side of the Council because I’m an original inhabitant, and I don’t object to women in positions of power. My fellow Christians think it’s scandalous, but I pay them no mind.”
“And you all are able to live together without major problems or strife?” Ralf spoke up, curious at the structure that now ruled the Island and its inhabitants.
“We have disagreements just like any other form of government, but unlike those governments, there is no one person that has the ultimate sway or deciding power.”
“There’s no High Priestess anymore?”
“Oh, there is, and she sits upon the Council with me, but the position is mostly for celebrations and ceremonies. Emira was the last high priestess to hold power.”
The Island of Mists Page 52
