Fourteen
FIRST FROST WAS coming. The end of autumn, the beginning of winter. Time to turn their backs on things that grew, and enter into the long cold, the dark sleep. It was a time of reminiscing and forgetting. Briallen didn’t want to remember, but she dearly, dearly wished to forget. Yes, it was time to say goodbye to her old life, one full of sorrow and disappointment, and to open her arms to the new. Or at least the hope of what a new one might bring.
“Where are we going?” Ceri groaned, dragging her feet through the damp drifts of fallen leaves. There were barely any left on the branches now, no hint of green in the wood. Winter was coming and the world had turned brown, slowly draining of colour before the frosts and snows arrived to cover them in white.
Briallen watched the little girl she’d spent so much time with over the last moon, the pair of them living together in the house that had once been hers. Now it was Ceri’s, Demairo’s and Elisud’s, and even with two-thirds of the family missing, the house held more life and warmth than it ever had when Briallen had lived there alone.
Waiting for Ceri to catch up, she grabbed the girl’s hand and twirled her around. “We’re going to make a First Frost wish.”
“But First Frost isn’t here yet. There’s been no sign of a freeze, Sira Wynn said so,” Ceri protested, giggling as she spun around and around, then staggered dizzily against Briallen.
“I don’t think the gods and ancestors will mind,” Briallen said, catching her. “Especially if we make a wish for the frost. Wouldn’t you like to make two wishes?”
“I wish Da and Mairo were home,” Ceri said, bouncing with excitement. “Can I make that wish? Can I, Bria, can I?” Somewhere over recent days Briallen had stopped being an aunt to Ceri. What she was now was a little hazy, but they both knew they were closer than aunt and niece, but not quite mother and daughter. Yet.
“Yes, puffin, you can make that wish.” Especially as it wasn’t far off the wish Briallen wanted to make herself.
Ceri squealed with excitement, stamping her feet in the leaves. Then she stopped and frowned. “How do I make my wish? And where?”
“I’ll show you where,” Briallen assured her. “And I’ll show you how.” Grabbing Ceri’s hand, she tugged her through the wood. “Come on.”
AFTER COMING DOWN from the moors, it was still a two-day journey through the little valleys to reach the farm. Elisud found himself counting almost every step, surprised by how eager he was to get home – and it was home now.
Once he couldn’t have imagined himself ever living away from the sea, making a life for himself that didn’t involve fishing, but somehow he had. He’d even enjoyed his time up on the wild moor, walking and hunting every day, eating the fruits of their spoils each night. That was over now, and with every step that took them lower down the hills, deeper into the trees, he found he missed Ceri more. He couldn’t wait to see her again.
And Briallen. He had tried not to think of her while he’d been away, but it had been impossible. How could he not think of the woman who was caring for his child while he was out in the world? The woman who was living in his house, sleeping in his bed, making sure his daughter was looked after.
How could he not think of her? Especially when she was Briallen, with her beautiful golden hair that looked like threads of honey. Her sweet smile that he wanted to taste, those ripe lips he longed to kiss. How could he not think of her? He thought of her often enough when he saw her every day, but after a whole moon without seeing her face… He was a lost cause.
So when Kensa called an early halt on their first day down from the moors, Elisud barely bit back his protest. The rain was getting worse, bringing with it a heavy mist that quickly closed in around them, making it hard to see where they were going.
When they stumbled across the dubious shelter of a set of caves made out of a granite cliff and overhanging tree roots, the others fell upon it with such relief that Elisud had to hold his tongue. There was still a fair way to go and they would have to stop for at least one night on their journey anyway. Who was he to deny his companions a little shelter, especially when three of them were under twelve years old?
“I’m sorry, Elis. I know you want to get back.”
The sympathy surprised Elisud while he was standing watch that night, staring out at the rain while the others slept off their scrambled meal of roasted squirrel. He’d thought everyone was asleep already, until Pedar came to sit beside him, their backs to the spitting fire.
“I hate nights like this, when the rain is coming down and home is so close, yet just beyond reach.” Pedar’s voice was soft, fitting his melancholy words. “Sometimes I think they’re the loneliest nights in the world.”
Elisud tilted his head to study the other man. During their trip they hadn’t had much to say to each other, beyond the necessary instructions and pleasantries. It wasn’t that Elisud didn’t like Pedar, it was just that the other man was so quiet; he didn’t seem one for much conversation. As someone who’d watched Demairo grow, Elisud understood about communicating in silence so had never pushed Pedar to talk.
Yet now the other man had come to him, on one of the last nights of their trip. It made him curious. “I’ve never been away from Ceri for this long,” he offered, keeping the conversation going and explaining a little of his impatience.
“Bria will look after her,” Pedar assured him, surprising Elisud with the obvious warmth in his voice. Elisud hadn’t realised the two of them were close. He’d never even seen them talk. “She’s a good woman.”
“She is,” Elisud agreed gruffly.
Pedar eyed him with a low chuckle. “You needn’t worry, Elisud, I’ve no interests there. Nor she in me. I love her like a sister. We were both close to Mewan.”
Mewan, the lost husband. Elisud had tried not to ask too many questions about him, but couldn’t deny he was desperately curious about the man Briallen had married. The man she had loved, according to most stories he’d been told. The same man who’d left her to go hunting – with the very man who sat beside him now. The one who’d brought Mewan’s cold body home.
It was a subject Elisud found both repelled and fascinated him; the need to know more combining with the fear of knowing too much. The little he did know about Mewan was that he was young, golden, beautiful and exciting. Everything that Elisud was not. How could he compete with that? What could Briallen possibly see in him?
“Tell me about him.” The words slipped out without forethought, yet as they hung in the air between the two men, Elisud didn’t try to grab them back. “Tell me about Mewan.”
Pedar was silent for so long that Elisud thought he wasn’t going to answer. Then he heaved a heavy sigh. “I don’t know what you’ve heard already –”
“That he was beautiful and exciting, and Briallen loved him,” Elisud interrupted, not wanting to trace over old ground, unpalatable as it was.
Pedar laughed softly. “Beautiful and exciting, yes,” he agreed, voice gentled by memories. “He was certainly that, and Briallen did love him. How could she not? He swept into her life, picked her out from all the others and swept her off her feet. She was so young – how could she resist?”
Images formed in Elisud’s head and made him feel sick. Not just because he could imagine Briallen looking at this beautiful man as if he hung the moon and stars for her, but because it reminded him of another man who’d once swept an unsuspecting woman off her feet. His brother Dewydd had done the same to Lowena and look how well that had ended.
“Yes, she loved him,” Pedar continued, his voice a hush whisper. “And he knew it. He made sure of it. He always was a selfish bastard.”
The sudden flash of anger startled Elisud. “I thought you liked him. That you were friends.”
Pedar’s eyes flicked over Elisud’s stunned face and his smile was bitter. “Friends, yes,” he agreed, scorn leaking into his voice. “Briallen wasn’t the only one who loved him. Mewan always knew how to get what he wanted, and he
wasn’t above using others to achieve it, regardless of the cost to them. As long as he won, that was all he cared about.”
Elisud wasn’t sure what his face showed, but Pedar’s smile turned apologetic and he held up a hand. “I’m being a little harsh, perhaps. Mewan did care, in his own way, but Briallen…” The other man sighed. “Poor Bria. She was too young to understand, and Mewan took advantage of that. Took advantage of her. You needn’t worry that she’s still in love with a ghost, Elisud. Briallen’s grown up a lot in the two years since she got married. She’s loved and lost, and lost again, but she’s gained wisdom too. She’s wise enough to see you for the prize you are, at least.”
The sudden shift in conversation brought a surprised flush to Elisud’s cheeks. “I’m too old for her. Too worn. She deserves someone younger, someone who can give her a fresh start.”
“She had someone younger,” Pedar pointed out. “He gave her nothing but grief. And you’re not that much older, surely. Ceri’s, what, six now?”
“Almost,” Elisud admitted.
“So you’re not yet thirty then?” When Elisud shook his head, Pedar smiled. “I’d bet there’s less than ten years between you, likely little more than five. Hardly too many, especially for second chances.”
“She needs someone who can care only for her, who’ll look after her, treat her as she deserves. I’ve got Ceri and Mairo to think of. I – I’m not what she needs.”
Pedar gave an amused snort. “I think you should let her decide what she needs. Besides, just because you love your daughter and your nephew, doesn’t mean you don’t have enough and more to spare for someone else. Unless… Are you worried what your Ceri will think of having a new mam? Is that why you’ve not remarried before?”
Once again Pedar’s question startled Elisud. He’d never even stopped to think what Ceri would say to him finding a new wife. He’d never even considered doing so before. Until he met Briallen. “Ceri loves her.”
“Then what’s the problem?”
None. There was no problem when it came to the two most important women in his life. Demairo adored Briallen too. It was just him.
“What would she even see in me? She’s so lovely, and I’m…” He stared down at his hands, rough and dirt-caked after two seasons in the field. He was rough around the edges, getting older now, with no excitement left in him. All he had was his battered heart and the wish for her to let him love her, take care of her, comfort her through all her worries, hold her through the winter and kiss her in the spring. It wasn’t much when he thought about it. “I’m nothing special.”
Pedar eyed him again, a smile tugging at his mouth. “A mysterious dark-haired man in a field of blond and redheads. The only man with brown eyes this far west, and one who clearly adores his children with all his heart. A man who’s calm when others are fretful, quiet when others are loud, with strong arms for comfort and a longing for home. Some might not think that’s special, but to others it could mean the world. Besides, you’re not so old that you’ve lost your looks yet, Elisud. Some might even count you handsome.”
Elisud waved off his words with an embarrassed laugh. “Not hardly.”
“I’d bet Briallen would agree with me,” Pedar said, sounding as confident as if he’d heard such words from her already.
A tingle of hope settled in Elisud’s chest, but he ignored it. “I didn’t realise she had problems with her sight.”
Pedar laughed and slapped him on the back. “You’re a fool, old man, but a sweet fool, as many men are in love. It’ll be interesting to see how she finally brings you down. I might even stay home this winter to watch. Just…”
At his pause, Elisud glanced at the other man, wondering where his laughter had gone and what had turned his mouth so grim. “Just…?” he prompted.
Pedar’s eyes caught his, his voice serious. “Don’t fight too much. Don’t forget that you want this, and if she chooses you, let her have that choice. She’s been hurt, Elisud, badly hurt, and if you protest too hard then you’ll both lose. Don’t hurt her.”
“I won’t,” Elisud said instantly, the words coming from instinct, even before the rest of Pedar’s had really registered. Once they had, though, he felt a new resolve settle in his heart. “I won’t,” he repeated, as firm and serious as Pedar’s warning had been.
“No, you won’t,” the older man agreed, patting him on the shoulder. “Watch over the others, will you? I… I need a walk.” Not waiting for an answer, Pedar strode out into the mist and the rain. Elisud didn’t even try to stop him.
When morning came and Pedar still hadn’t returned, Elisud wasn’t surprised. He simply packed up with the others and followed them home, knowing the other man would catch up when he was ready.
“I WANT TO make another wish.”
Briallen peeled open an eye and found Ceri standing beside the bed, already dressed, her hair hanging in a sloppy, ill-made braid. The fire was little more than a few bare embers glowing beneath the turf, while the rushlight on the log was close to going out. The doorway was nothing but darkness, meaning dawn had yet to arrive.
Groaning, Briallen pulled the covers over her head. “It’s too early for wishes, Ceri.”
“No!” Ceri yanked the blanket down. “The starlings are already twittering, which means dawn’s not far off. Mairo taught me all about starlings, so don’t say I’m wrong. No one else is up yet – if we’re going to make a wish, we have to go now. Please, Bria, please.”
When Ceri put her whole heart into a plea like that, coupled with her shining dark eyes and the plaintive expression on her face, Briallen was hopeless to resist. Not that she’d let the little girl know that.
“All right,” she sighed with heavy reluctance, though in truth she wouldn’t mind making a second wish herself. Though it wasn’t First Frost yet, she was a little worried that the men wouldn’t make it back in time. She needed them here, not just because she missed Demairo and his daily flower delivery – though that would have to stop now winter was almost here – or even Elisud and his warm smiles, but because her wish wouldn’t work without them. “I’m getting up.”
“Yay!” Ceri danced away and returned with Briallen’s dress. “Hurry, before Aunt Ia starts breakfast and Aunt Rosen comes by to get us. If she see us we’ll never get away.”
Always happy to thwart Rosen’s make-Briallen-do-all-my-work-for-me scheme, Briallen dressed quickly in the feeble light, ran a comb through her hair and knotted it up out of the way for the moment. “Are you sure you don’t want to have breakfast first?” she checked, dipping a ladle in the water bucket to wash the sleep from her mouth.
“No, no, no,” Ceri protested, grabbing Briallen’s arm and tugging her towards the door. “If we stop to eat they’ll catch us. Come on, Bria, hurry.”
“As you command,” she agreed, allowing herself to be dragged into the woods. The morning was cold and damp, making tendrils of mist hang in the air and the ground was heavy with dew. None of that held Ceri back though as she trotted along the path to the river, then swiftly found the stepping stones downstream that took them over it. After that it was a brisk walk through the copper drifts of fallen beech leaves and up the hill lined with birches, ash and hazel thickets, and past the rowans still wearing their scarlet crowns. Then finally, finally, nestled in a clearing beyond oaks and willows, nestled in the shelter of an ancient yew tree, the pond lurked, dark and secretive in the gloom.
Somewhere above the wood, starlings twittered and swirled, just as Ceri had predicted, flocking together to leave their roost in safety with the coming of the dawn. Not that it mattered now. All that mattered were the two smooth stones Ceri must have picked up by the river.
She handed one to Briallen and cradled her own close to her heart. “I wish Da would come home. I wish Da would come home. I wish Da would come home. Today,” the little girl whispered, eyes tightly closed, stone held against her chest. Then pressing a kiss to the smooth surface, she opened her eyes and threw it into the
centre of the pond.
The water swallowed it with a satisfying gloomp, sending silver ripples dancing across the black surface.
Briallen waited for the tremors to fade, then pressed her own river stone against her heart. Though her lips moved, she didn’t make her wish out loud, instead repeating it silently inside her head. “I want Elisud to see me. I want him to love me. I want him to return to me. To be with me. To stay with me. To live with me.
“Today,” she finished out loud, opening her eyes to throw her stone into the centre of the pool, just as Ceri had done. Another gloomp set silver ripples spreading.
Hand in hand, Briallen and Ceri watched the surface until everything settled back into calm blackness once more.
“Well, we’ve done our best,” Briallen announced, breaking the hush that had descended over them. Even the starlings were gone. “We can do no more. Let’s go home.”
Ceri looked up at her as they turned away. “Will my wish really come true, Bria? Will Da really come home today?”
“What do you believe, puffin? What does your heart tell you?”
Ceri was silent for a short moment as if checking on her heart and asking it for answers. Then she beamed. “We have to get ready to greet him! We need to make his favourite bread. Come on, Bria, hurry, or Aunt Rosen will spoil all the flour and we’ll never get it done.”
Laughing, Briallen allowed herself to be dragged out of the woods and back to the farm for breakfast.