On Fallen Wings (19 page)

“Why didn’t your family ever build here?” I asked, motioning toward the trees. “It’s beautiful.”

Sean shook his head. “My father. He’s never liked Morgan, or the men who live there.” He pointed across the water at the tiny homes. They were barely visible between thick trunks and empty branches. “He wanted to stay away from the lake.”

“I understand that,” I said. “My father never has anything good to say about Morgan, either.”

“I don’t know what the fuss is about,” said Sean. “Cael trades with men from Morgan. He says they are just people like us. I think hating them is an excuse for the older ones not to change.”

I nodded and ended the talk about the people across the lake. We had a marriage to discuss.

While we trotted along, we laughed and disagreed about our favorite spots in the forest. I liked the view of the water, while Sean insisted on living back into the trees, for more privacy. Finally, we agreed on a meadow hill that sloped toward the mountain. It offered a view of the water, and plenty of trees around it for shade and comfort. We had found the site of our future home.

I climbed down from Maeia and danced a daylight blessing on the brittle grass, marking our spot forever. Sean stayed on Ginger, still sporting his helmet and his shield around his back. When I finished the blessing, I twirled toward him and presented him a kiss.

“I’ll never tire of watching you dance.”

I bowed politely. “Thank you, my captain. You look daring and strong. Would you like to see the cave? Or, should I say—your fortress?”

“Yes.”

The route was different from the way I remembered, but we eventually managed to find the cave. The horses seemed nervous, so I stayed with them while Sean opened the creaking gate and ventured inside. I watched, unable to see him in the dark shadows, until he returned and mounted Ginger.

“This place is haunting,” he said, tugging on her reins. “I can’t believe you found anything in there, especially without torches. It’s so dark.”

I smiled. “It’s a dangerous place inside,” I told him. “I was glad that Abigail’s crystal was bright.”

“I hope I never need to use these.” He patted his helmet and shield with emphasis. “But if I do, I’ll remember that my wife’s courage matches my own.”

Sean was a farmer, not a soldier, but there was a spark of fire in him that I had seen even when we were children. I had no doubt that if trouble ever came to Aisling; Sean would do all in his power to defend me.

We returned to our chosen home location and kissed under the warming sun. This was our day, our land, and our future. We enjoyed the moment to our fullest and then returned to the lakeshore and trotted casually back toward my parents’ home.

When we arrived at the docks, several men were busy tossing large burlap sacks into a long flat-bottomed boat. They ignored us as we approached. A young man entered the clearing, whistling as he exited the trees.

“Cael!” Sean smiled and waved a greeting. He was still wearing his helmet.

Cael stood motionless for a moment. He looked at me and a brief scowl seemed to cross his face before he smiled and walked toward us. “Sean, is that you?”

Sean slid off Ginger. The men stopped working until Cael yelled a command that I couldn’t understand. They continued loading the boat.

“Hello, brother,” said Sean, smiling and holding his arms out wide for an embrace. “I’m back.”

Cael accepted his brother’s greeting, but stared at Maeia and me over Sean’s shoulder. I turned to watch the men at the dock until I felt him turn away.

I don’t know what I had expected their reunion to be; however, there was fear in Cael’s eyes while Sean described his journey. Sean beamed with pride and kept glancing at me—earning my smile—while he proudly exhibited his shield and his helmet. I shifted in my saddle, hoping the moment would end. It seemed to last forever. Cael didn’t appear interested in the helmet or the shield, and wouldn’t hold them for examination, despite Sean’s insistence.

After a terse goodbye, Cael grabbed a pair of wooden oars from the ground and walked toward the lake to join the other men.

Sean ambled back to me with worry in his eyes. “I want to spend the day with you,” he said, “and we’ll spend many more together.”

“Are you all right?” I asked, reluctant for our day to end.

Sean nodded. “Yes. I should go see my father,” he said. He gripped my hand. “Thank you for the wonderful homecoming.”

“He misses you, as I have,” I said. I turned to look at Cael, and caught him glancing at us. “I think Cael missed you also.”

“Well, I need to rough him up a bit,” said Sean, nodding. “Something is different; he’s turned brash in my absence. When may I visit you again?”

I never wanted to leave Sean’s side again, but I hid my disappointment behind a cheerful face. “Bring your family to the house in two days,” I offered. “I’ll arrange a feast with Mother. We should properly celebrate your return.”

“And our future marriage.” Sean glanced back at the dock before bending to kiss me.

I honored him with a long, accepting kiss and shifted straight in my saddle. “Will you pass a message,” I asked, “on your walk home?”

“I’ll do anything for you.” Sean’s voice was endearing.

“Will you please invite Nia and Owen to the feast?” I asked. “I’d like them to come as well.”

Sean chuckled. “Of course. Nothing could keep you and Nia apart.” He waved his hand, shifted his brilliant shield onto his back, and walked along the trail back into the forest. Before reaching the trees, he turned around. “I’ll be with you in two days,” he yelled. “I love you.”

I waved back to him before leading Ginger and Maeia home.

Secrets and Ale

It’s easy to wake before sunrise when you’re excited for the day to come. Ignoring the cold that frosted the edges of my bedroom window, I leapt from my bed and glanced eastward at Taylor’s Ridge. I no longer had a reason to search the horizon. Sean had been back for two days.

Leila entered my bedroom with her usual morning liveliness. “Good morning,” she said, hugging my waist from behind.

“Your body is warm,” I said, absorbing her energy. “Have you been sitting by the fire?”

“No,” she answered. “Mother sent me to the well. I ran the whole way—there and back.” She held her hand to my cheek. “Here, feel my hands.”

“They’re freezing!” I shied my face away from Leila’s icy fingers. “Hey!” I shrieked as she pressed her hands against my neck. I shoved her away and dashed toward the open doorway.

“Wait, come back.”

Before I could escape, Leila’s hands clasp around my exposed ankles and pulled me down. Now, facing the floor, I kicked my feet in an attempt to free myself. “Let me go,” I said, laughing as I grabbed a loose pillow. I launched it at my sister.

Leila released one hand, which was enough to allow me freedom. As I scrambled away, my own pillow smacked me in the head; its seam-stitch split and down feathers exploded into the air. Ignoring the white cloud, I grabbed the pillow and swung it at Leila’s legs.

“Take that,” I told her, striking hard.

Giggling, Leila scrambled toward my bed. She took another pillow and swung back, blocking my next blow. Her force pushed me backwards; Leila was strong. I rushed for the door and tossed the remains of my pillow back at her as she scrambled after me.

We bounced each other off the walls and bounded down the stairs, announcing our arrival at the bottom with more giggles and screams. At the end of the dark hall, Mother stood in the kitchen, scolding us with a stare. Leila slapped my waist.

“We have a lot to prepare,” Mother said, tossing me a damp towel.

“Yes, Mother.” I couldn’t stop grinning. I reached back and pinched the only flesh I could catch of Leila’s arm, then shuffled past Mother to help with breakfast.

Soon the aroma of smoky bacon filled the rooms, and Mother’s mood lightened. She hummed and danced in place while washing eggs that Leila brought to her. To Leila’s dismay, I stayed in the safety of the kitchen, peeling vegetables for the feast that evening. She tried to pinch me back, only to discover the end of Mother’s metal spatula warning her to stay busy.

After breakfast, Father grumbled outside, tugging Ethan and Leila with him—leaving me alone in the house with Mother. I enjoyed this; it was rare anymore to catch her alone; we chatted the morning away, sharing thoughts of marriage and love. Mother even included a morsel of village gossip in our conversation, which surprised me, for she usually hated rumors.

I was shuttling an armful of plates to the table, when a booming knock shook the walls and rattled the iron chandelier overhead. After dropping the plates with a clatter and earning a glare from Mother, I raced down the hall toward the front door.

“Good Morning.” Nia hugged me as soon as I heaved open the heavy door.

I accepted her warm embrace and shivered as a chilly wind brushed my neck. Behind her, her father smiled.

“Hello, Owen,” I said, smiling back. I pulled Nia inside. “Come in and escape the cold.”

I hugged Owen as he entered. Mother offered a kind hug to Nia, before quickly assigning her a task in the kitchen. Nia winked back at me and wrapped an apron around her waist. Owen accepted a welcome embrace from my mother before disappearing out the back door.

While we toiled in the kitchen, Mother excused herself to collect more water, leaving Nia and me alone. Nia stopped working and peered out the window.

“Where is it?” she asked, staring toward the field. “Sean told me about the horse.”

I glanced over my shoulder. Leila and Ethan worked near the stable, but Maeia wasn’t there.

“She’s out there somewhere,” I said, placing empty goblets around the table. “I’ll show you later.”

“I have a surprise,” said Nia, still watching the window.

I lifted my head. “What is it?”

Just then, Mother tapped on the door and called for assistance. I rushed to let her in, holding the door wide while she carried a kettle full of water. After I closed the door, Nia resumed her place rolling dough for rolls. I waited, hoping that she would share her secret, but she didn’t turn around again.

While the morning drifted to midday, the suspense of Nia’s words pulled at my stomach. I wanted to know her secret.
Was it about Sean? Did she have news about the bandit?
I imagined many possibilities, and finally had to assume that it must be about Thomas, the skinny man from DarMattey. Her actions toward him at the celebration were my only clue.

Mother had invited Madeline and Colin to the party, and that afternoon they arrived with regal dress and proper manners, as always. Colin lingered around the kitchen for a while, and then politely excused himself to the yard where Father and Owen were working. Leila and Ethan returned from the stable together, but Ethan snorted at our banter and darted back outside to join the men.

The kitchen continued to be a flurry of activity and smells. Mother placed several metal trays of biscuits on the counter to cool, and helped Madeline prepare a pie that filled the air with sweet cinnamon apple. Nia poured cider into a silver cauldron and I cleaned the skin off two dozen round potatoes. Leila removed bottles from Father’s ale closet and placed them onto the table.

“Don’t put out more than two bottles, Leila,” warned Mother, peeling a large green apple. “I don’t want the men to overdo it.”

Madeline laughed, her voice like a song. “Don’t worry about Colin. He won’t touch the ale.”

“Or Sean,” I added.

Nia snorted.

“It’s true,” I told her, “Sean doesn’t drink ale. He doesn’t like the taste.”

“Is that what he tells you?” said Nia, forcing back a laugh. “All men drink ale, I think it flows in their blood.” She placed an empty jug of cider on the floor against the kitchen wall. “I see them every day with my father. Once the work is done, the bottles open.”

“Have you ever seen Sean drink ale?” I asked. Nia was annoying me today; first the secret, and now the teasing. “And Colin doesn’t drink it.”

“He can’t,” said Nia, smiling mischievously. “He’s the Chief Elder.”

Her answer made me laugh. “Then, our fathers will never be Chief Elder. They would prefer to dance in the celebrations, than to give up their ale.”

Leila danced mockingly in a circle and the kitchen erupted with laughter. I joined in the comedy while an image of my father twirling around the standing stones of Stone Meadow flashed in my mind. That livened the afternoon, and the chuckles continued when the men returned from outside. Father inhaled a deep breath, smiled, and then grabbed a bottle from the table.

I covered my mouth, trying to hold in my amusement, but the image of him dancing returned. I released an explosion of laughter. Leila and Nia joined me. I covered my mouth again and felt my face burn with embarrassment. Father glared at me and searched the room before releasing an annoyed groan. He placed his bottle on the table.

Pounding on the front door shook the house.

“I’ll get the door!” Leila and Ethan yelled together and shoved each other aside while scrambling down the hall.