Brenyn leaned over her. “Emi – are you alright?”
She stared up at him. Her eyes were wide, darkened with fear and confusion. “What happened? What did you do?”
“You fell into the river,” he told her, “and I got you out.”
She stared back at him with wide, almost frightened eyes. “I remember falling and calling out your name – and then… and then, I was here. What happened, Brenyn?”
He shook his head. “I came as fast as I could.”
Her eyes were yet wide. “But how –?”
Once again, Brenyn shook his head. “I do not know, Emi. I only know that you are safe now.”
He realized then that she was shivering, for the day was not overly warm, and she was wet to her chin; her dress was soaked.
“You’re cold,” he said.
She nodded and her teeth chattered. “I am, very cold.”
He nodded with decision. “We must get you warm and dry. I will take you to Gran’s.”
Reaching down, he lifted her in his arms and turned toward the road to find Captain Grizeo hastening to meet them.
“She is wet and cold,” Brenyn told him, “and I am taking her to Gran’s.”
Grizeo hesitated only a moment and then nodded. “Let’s get her by a fire,” he agreed. He turned and fell in beside Brenyn. When they reached the road, Grizeo pointed. “Hasten on, Brenyn, take her home. I will bring the horses.”
Brenyn ran down the road, through the gate, burst through the door, and into the parlor of his grandmother’s house. Mirae, who had been sitting near the fire, shot to her feet in alarm.
“What’s the matter, Brennie? Who’s this?”
“It’s Princess Emilene, Gran – she fell into the river. She was standing on the bank – it gave way and she fell.”
Mirae took in the significance of the scene at once. “Oh, my, you poor child – you are soaked through. Here, put her here, in my chair next to the fire, Brennie.” Quickly, she threw a blanket around Emi and felt of her forehead, frowning in concentration. She looked up and her frown deepened as Captain Grizeo burst through the door.
Mirae immediately shooed both Brenyn and Grizeo back out through the door. “Get away now, fellows, for I must get this girl out of her wet things and make her dry. You will remain out here until I call you. Get away with you now.”
Grizeo, faced with the old woman’s determined bearing, backed up and went out. “Yes, ma’am,” he agreed.
Brenyn went with him and Mirae shut the door.
Brenyn stared at the door for a long moment, concern for Emi darkening his heart.
“Come on, lad; come away,” Grizeo stated from behind him. “Your Gran will see to the princess, alright.”
Brenyn hesitated for a moment longer, and then he turned and went toward the gate. Captain Grizeo studied him for a time and then reached inside his waistcoat and produced his pipe.
The captain lit the pipe, puffed it into glowing red life, and then studied Brenyn for a while in silence. For his part, Brenyn yet watched the door, anxious over Emi’s welfare.
Then, Grizeo spoke.
“What happened back there, Brenyn?” He wondered. “I saw her fall and then I shouted at you. And then you… vanished.”
Brenyn turned and frowned at him. “What?”
Grizeo nodded slowly, watching Brenyn. “You went from my sight, lad – gone, vanished, as if you had abruptly disappeared from the earth. And then, one moment later, you were there again, on the grass, kneeling over the princess.”
He drew deeply on his pipe, gazing at Brenyn with shrewd eyes. “What was that, lad – magic? Are you a magician?” His face darkened with suspicion. “I’ve seen darkings use magic,” he went on, “and it’s an awful thing to behold. Surely you are not like them, are you?”
Brenyn ignored the insinuation as he remembered how the world had appeared to him during those few awful moments when Emi had tumbled into the flooded river – how the sky had taken on a strange gray tinge, the sun had dimmed its light, and the river had ceased to flow, instead creeping along like thick, slow-moving mud.
He shook his head. “I do not know what happened, captain. I only knew that if I didn’t get to Emi, she would die.”
“You’re not a magician?”
Brenyn looked at him and frowned. “No. Would I not know if I possessed magical powers?”
Grizeo shrugged. “I’m not accusing you, Brenyn – indeed, I’m very grateful that you saved her. I just know what I saw back there – or didn’t see – and I wonder about it, is all. It was all very strange – you vanished, and then you reappeared. Strange.”
Brenyn shook his head yet again. “I cannot help you, for I do not know. I just knew that I must save her... and then, I did.”
Grizeo looked away and pondered the little house sitting on the slope above the road. Then he turned and looked toward the south and the dead tree at the bottom of the hill. “You never knew your mother, did you, Brenyn?”
Brenyn shook his head. “She died when I was born.”
“Just so,” Grizeo agreed. “Neither did I know her. But your father spoke of her often. He always said that she was clever, more so, maybe, than any woman – or man – ought to be.”
He drew on his pipe again and exhaled a cloud of aromatic smoke. “It was just small things, your father said,” he went on, “just things that helped to make life a bit easier, you know. Like when an apple tree developed the blight, and she would feel of its leaves and limbs, and speak to it – so he claimed – and then, all at once, the blight was gone, and that tree produced the finest apples he had ever seen – again, so your father told me.”
He drew on his pipe again, thoughtfully, and his gaze turned toward Brenyn. “I always thought it was naught but the sweet pain of lost love that made your father declare such things – until I saw what I saw this day, Brenyn. It looked like magic to me – what you did in that field.” He went silent for a moment and then pointed the stem of his pipe at the boy. “You are her son, after all. Mayhap it’s a power that she had, and it came to you in the blood.”
Brenyn frowned at him. “If so, why wouldn’t I know of it?”
Grizeo shrugged. “Don’t query me about it, such things are far beyond my ken.”
Brenyn glanced away for a moment and then looked back. “Did my father ever say whence my mother came?”
Grizeo considered and then nodded. “He mentioned once that she came from the east – from some land far away in the east of the world, as I took it.” He puffed on his pipe once more. “Your father travelled far and wide when he was young. He was a brave, adventurous sort, was Fynn.” He shook his head in sorrow. “Your mother’s death destroyed him, robbed him of all happiness.” He looked over. “He did miss you though, lad, he truly did.”
The door to the house opened then and they both looked that way. Mirae stood in the doorway. “Come in, fellows,” she said. “The princess is having a nice hot cup of tea. I can brew you one as well, if you like, captain.”
Grizeo grinned with relief. “The princess is alright, then?”
“Fit and fine,” Mirae affirmed. “We are only waiting on her things to dry, and then you can take her back home.”
Grizeo knocked out his pipe and his grin widened. “I will take that cup, ma’am, and thank you.”
Mirae looked at Brenyn. “Come along now, Brennie; Miss Emilene wants a word.”
Emi, looking smaller than usual, was sitting in a chair close by the fire, fully wrapped in one of Mirae’s blankets, sipping at a small ceramic cup. She looked up and smiled when Brenyn stepped next to her.
“I like your Gran, Brenyn. She is so nice.” Her smile turned solemn. “You are very fortunate to have a grandmother like her.”
“I know,” Brenyn agreed. “How do you feel, Emi?”
She smiled again and snuggled deeper into the blanket. “I am all warm and toasty, thanks to Gran.” She lifted one hand and pointed to her dress, hanging near the fireplace. “Sh
e washed all the mud out, so now father needn’t know.”
Here, she looked hard at Captain Grizeo, who met her gaze for a long moment, frowning, and then sighed and nodded. “As you wish, Your Highness – your father needn’t know, I suppose, for I do not imagine that you will be so foolish a second time.”
Emi looked back at Brenyn. “See? – all is well. And I won’t tell our secret to anyone – well, I told Gran, of course, and Captain Grizeo undoubtedly knows – but I won’t tell another soul.”
“Secret?” Brenyn frowned. “What secret, Emi?”
“How you saved me,” she replied, “by your magical power. I know now what it is that is in you, Brenyn – that makes me tingle. It’s magic. There is magic in you.”
Startled, Brenyn looked over at his grandmother, but she’d turned away and was straightening the folds of Emi’s dress while it dried. He looked back at Emi and shook his head.
“I don’t have magic power, Emi,” he said.
She lifted her face and looked in his eyes. “Then how were you there so quickly?” She demanded. “I fell off the bank and into the river, but my head didn’t even get wet before you were there, so quick; and then we were on the bank, all in a flash.” She studied him thoughtfully. “And that’s why you make me tingle when I touch you – it’s your magic.”
“I don’t have magic, Emi,” he repeated. “If I did – wouldn’t I know it?”
She continued to watch him for another moment and then she smiled and tipped up her cup and sipped at her tea. “Alright, Brenyn,” she answered. “I won’t tell anyone.”
Mirae turned around just then and frowned at Emi. “Where are your shoes, princess? – for they were not on your feet when you came.”
“I lost them in the river, Gran,” Emi told her.
Mirae glanced at Grizeo and then looked back. “Your father may have to learn the truth, after all.”
Emi shook her head. “I will tell him that I ruined them in the mud. He will be cross and then he will buy me another pair.”
Mirae considered and then nodded and moved toward her bedroom. “I have some stockings that will keep your feet warm until you reach home,” she said.
Eventually, Emi’s dress was dry, and the stockings produced and placed upon her feet. Captain Grizeo and Brenyn were shooed outside the house once more while she dressed.
Then Captain Grizeo carried her outside and placed her on her horse. She looked at Brenyn. “Until next time,” she said.
He nodded. “See you next time, Emi.”
7.
Over those next several days, the level of the water in Small River fell. The flood did not abate entirely, but it was no longer a roaring beast, and more like the runoff of a normal spring.
The days warmed. Brenyn’s garden produced new shoots and the apple trees budded and bloomed, white, tinged with pink. He turned the soil of the wheat field and sowed the seed.
Mirae made no mention of Emi’s assertion about his “magic powers”, and he avoided the subject as well.
With the current of the river grown calmer, there was no impediment to sound, and Brenyn was glad – though somewhat apprehensive – when, one morning, he heard the sound of hooves upon the road, coming toward the bridge.
By the time he put his tools away and made it up the road, around the corner, and onto the bridge, Captain Grizeo was leaning upon the railing, smoking his pipe, and Emi had gone into the field, though she stayed well away from the banks of the river.
Grizeo turned and smiled at him. “Good morning, Brenyn,” he said. “A very fine day, is it not?”
Brenyn nodded, surprised at the captain’s easy manner. “It is a fine day,” he agreed.
“Well, get on with you then, lad, before she decides to take another spill in the river.”
Brenyn returned the smile and then hastened into the field. He found Emi standing near the blackberry thicket, examining the small white flowers that sprouted from nearly every branch of the bramble. She turned and smiled as Brenyn came up.
“It looks like there will be a good crop of berries this year,” she said, holding up one of the prickly branches for his inspection. “See? – so many blooms.”
He nodded. “The flood brought fresh soil and deposited it around the roots, so these vines will have more nourishment this year.”
Her smile faded, and she examined him with solemn eyes. “You know a lot of things, Brenyn,” she said.
He shrugged. “I am a farmer, you know.”
Her smile came back. “I thought you were a hunter.”
“Yes, that, too,” he acknowledged, returning her smile. “But I have learned much about the soil, working Gran’s farm. I only said that I was a hunter rather than a farmer so that you would not think me too lowly to be your friend.”
A frown of disapproval found Emi’s face. “Lowly? Farmers are not lowly, Brenyn. Farmers are honorable and important. I am grateful for them every time I partake of my supper.”
He nodded and grimaced, abashed by her rebuke. “I know. It’s just that with you being who you are, and –”
She held up her hand, cutting him off. “Are you going to be a black cloud again today, Brenyn Vagus? For, if you are, then I will go away at once.”
He drew in a deep breath and shook his head. “I will not be a black cloud.”
She dropped her hand, smiled, and pointed up the sloping grass of the field. “Then help me gather flowers for your Gran.”
They spent the rest of the morning in this pleasant fashion and, when the time came to return to the bridge, they had gathered a large, fragrant bouquet of wildflowers for Brenyn’s grandmother.
“Tell her that some of them are from me,” Emi said.
Brenyn held them up. “I will – and I will tell her that it was your idea.”
When they arrived at the bridge, Captain Grizeo admired the bouquet and then knocked out his pipe and pointed to the trees over to the right of the field with the stem.
“Have you managed to tame a raven, Brenyn?” He asked.
Brenyn frowned. “Tame a raven –? No – why?”
Grizeo raised his pipe once more, indicating the stand of trees off to the right. “Well that one sure seems to be taken with you and the princess. It has followed you all morning, even flying over you and swooping low at times. I thought perhaps you had managed to make a pet of it.”
The bird, a large raven, its feathers gleaming and black, sat upon a dead limb high up on the side of a great oak, its head turned to the side, seemingly watching them with one bright eye.
Looking at the bird, Brenyn felt a chill of unease to which he could attach no meaning. “You say it followed us this morning? For I didn’t notice.”
Grizeo chuckled and glanced at Emi. “Yes, I know, lad; your focus was elsewhere.” But then he nodded and looked back at the raven. “At first, I thought it was nothing more than coincidence, but nay – it definitely followed you, like a pet. Seemed to take a keen interest – a marked interest, even – in the two of you, it did.” He studied the bird and then looked at Brenyn. “Not a pet, then?”
“No – I have no idea why it acted thus,” Brenyn affirmed.
Grizeo slid his pipe inside his jacket, watched the bird for a moment more, and then turned toward his horse. “Well, creatures will behave oddly at times. They are much like us, you know; they have likes and dislikes, and sometimes they will be curious as well – just like people. Come, Your Highness, we must get back.”
After Emi and Grizeo left, Brenyn watched the bird for a few moments more, but the raven, as Emi and the captain moved away, spread its wings, lifted up, gained the open sky, and then flew away toward the southeast, disappearing over the hills. Brenyn watched it sail out of sight and then turned toward home.
Spring arrived in its fullness, the river fell to normal levels, and the forest thickened with green growth. Every week or so, Emi came to the bridge. She and Brenyn waded in the stream, or simply walked and talked, learning about each other an
d bits of their lives. No mention was ever made between them of Brenyn’s rescue of her that early spring. And the more he grew to know her and listened to the mellow, soft tones of her voice, the more Brenyn loved her.
But he kept this sentiment close in his heart.
Spring became summer.
The blackberries ripened in the bramble and one day Emi brought a basket to gather some for her father.
“How is your father?” Brenyn asked her.
At that, her eyes darkened. “He is ever sad these days,” Emi replied. “He yet grieves for my mother, even now.” Her night-blue eyes grew thoughtful and she looked away. “He tells me that I look like her, and I think it does not please him.”
Brenyn frowned at this. “Why would your resemblance to your mother displease him?”
She sighed. “It reminds him of his great loss and causes him pain.”
“Oh. I am sorry, Emi.”
She nodded. “Yes – would that I appeared different, so that I did not cause him pain.”
“No,” he disagreed at once. “You are very pretty, Emi. I am glad you appear as you do. I am sorry for your father, but I would not alter you a whit.”
At this, she turned and looked over at Brenyn with a strange expression that he could not read shimmering in the depths of her eyes, but then she turned away again, answering nothing.
Summer waxed, bright and hot, and then waned, and it was the most pleasant time of Brenyn’s young life, for he was content to enjoy the company of the girl he loved and let the future, with its uncertainties, stay beyond the horizons of time.
Autumn approached.
The day of Emi’s fourteenth birthday came, and her father once again hosted a party for her, denying Brenyn her company for that week. But the garden had produced in abundance and Brenyn and his grandmother decided to take the surplus into Pierum to the farmer’s market. They loaded up the oxcart and headed for town.
Once across the bridge, the road passed through a section of dense forest where the trees grew thick and tall upon both sides of the road. This was castle land as well, but it was undeveloped and wild. Beyond the woodland, the country opened up again and there were farms that crowded to the limits of Pierum.
A Plague of Ruin: Book One: Son of Two Bloods Page 6
