Wren (The Romany Epistles) (26 page)

“Yes.”

He went directly to Tourth’s cot and shook him awake. He
rolled over, alert and ready for combat. He followed the healer out and
returned bearing a cup of mulled ale and bread and cheese wrapped in cloth.

“Which do you want first?” he asked, showing me the food.

“Drink.”

He set the bundle on the ground and knelt next to my cot. Propping
me up with an arm around my shoulders, he offered me the cup. I relished his
closeness as I sipped the warm liquid and breathed deeply of the spices.

Memories of home and gathering around the central fire on
long winter nights blossomed from the scents. Taerith devours a tome. Aiden and
Arnan argue in low tones about something trivial, reveling in the competition
more than the topic. Should the heat of the conversation grow overwhelming,
they would cool it with a wrestle in the snow. Zoe watches them, eager for a
chance to contribute. Her handiwork lies forgotten in her lap. I listen to
them, but only to the rise and fall of the voices. My attention is on teaching
Aquila to handle a knife. Ilara and Daelia bend over mending on the opposite
sides of a lantern, hands and heads almost meeting in the glow. Sam sits at my
knee, head heavy with coming sleep and the dreams constantly lingering in his
eyes.

Memory pressed against my breastbone, aching and raw.
Despite the longing, I knew the image remained lost to time. We would never be
so again.

Tourth shifted behind me. I took a deep draught of the ale.

Hope welled in the heat of the liquid’s path. True, I would
never be a part of my siblings’ circle like I once had, but I cherished the possibility
of a new family circle. Arthus, Dardon, and Svhen treated me almost like my
brothers did. Philon, Hiller, Warrick, and Iscarus acted like cousins, a new
relationship for me. Tourth–

I swallowed all but the dregs.

No, Tourth was different.

Without a word, Tourth claimed the cup and eased me back to
the cot. I watched him sleepily. He bent over the bundle of food, rumpled hair
a black mass in the dimness. He offered me a bite-sized crust.

“My hands work fine.”

“Just take it, Wren. It is the least I can do.”

I took the bread. “Wallowing in guilt again?”

His head snapped up and dark eyes glinted in the light. “I
am not wallowing.”

“Hmm….”

He handed me another minute piece and avoided my gaze. Three
more bits of bread passed between us before he finally groaned. “Fine, I will
stop.”

“Wise move.”

“But it is my fault you are injured. I should have never let
you leave King Orac’s camp.”

“What would you have done to stop me?”

“Tied you up or….” His voice dropped off. We both knew I
would have found a way to leave. With them I would have been a fatal liability.

“Dardon said I should ask you to stay.”

“I told him I would.”

“No.” His fingers crumbled the cheese.

“I would like to eat that,” I commented.

“Sorry.” He offered the chunk to me. I reached for it.
Instead of letting me have it, he claimed my hand. “Wren, would you stay? I
mean beyond the winter, for always. I can promise that you will always have a
roof over your head and a fire in the hearth. I can’t offer much else at the
moment. In a year or so, Deus willing, I will have more. The valley is full of
rich soil and the people willing to work. Given time, we will reclaim the old
security, but it is going to take work.”

“I like to work.”

“I know, but–”

“Stop trying to talk me out of it and give me the real
reason you want me to stay.”

He met my gaze and truly saw me for the first time in a long
time. His eyes searched mine for the answer before he asked the question. I met
his study with one of my own.

Dark blue eyes, black in the dimness, hid so much. I could
read his history on his face now that I knew where to look and how to interpret
the lines and shadows. I wondered if he could do the same for me. Despite this
knowledge, I saw more to learn.

When did it happen, Lord? When did he become so precious
to my heart and necessary for my happiness?
The thought of leaving
disappeared on the first night. They needed me; he needed me; that was clear
from the beginning. However, the roots of my own needs intertwining among his
stole upon me unawares. All he had to do was ask the question.

He touched my face. Fingertips grazed the line of my jaw.
“Wren, marry me.”

I smiled slowly. “Why?”

“Because Deus brought us together and I love you.”

“I cannot argue with that.”

His fingers laced through my hair near my ear, callused palm
spanning my cheek. “So, is that a yes?”

“Yes, Tourth. I love you.”

He laughed and then kissed me.

~~~~~

I leaned against the sun-warmed stone of the merlon, drinking
deeply of the scents on the breeze. Spring finally warmed into summer. Smoke no
longer rose from the keep, great hall, or the barracks. Only the cookhouse
billowed out savory smells near mealtimes. Over a year since King Orac’s visit,
Iselyn finally started to resemble the home Tourth remembered from his
childhood.

Green filled the valley, promising security for the winter.
Tourth, despite his elevated status as Lord Iselyn, insisted on visiting fields
each day. More often than not he returned in the evening with dirt under his
nails and ground into the knees of his leggings. As Lady Iselyn, I was not
required to clean them, but I couldn’t help feeling sorry for the laundress.

Flapping wings off to the west signaled the arrival of
Myrddin. A screech of greeting resonated on the wind. A black and two white
falcons rose from the trees outside the walls. I watched their aerial dance
without true attention. A yearning for Braedoch pressed against my peace.

“Wool-gathering?” Tourth wrapped his arms around me from
behind, resting his chin on my shoulder. “Or are you contemplating an attempt
to fly with your birds? Hmm…. You smell of sunshine. Feeling better?”

I nodded. “You smell of dirt.” I leaned back into his solid
strength.

“Clean dirt.” He squeezed gently. “The crops are healthy,
and Dardon and Svhen returned from riding the borders. All looks well.”

“You came home to tell me this?”

“No, I came home because I missed you. Arthus and Kat were
acting like calf-eyed lovers. My sister is turning that man into a softhearted
poet. You should have heard the mush he composed about her eyes, and hers don’t
even change color like yours.”

“What?” I turned in his arms so we were only a breath apart.
“My eyes don’t change.”

He chuckled. “Oh, yes they do. They turn green when I get
close to you like right now.” His blue eyes deepened, pupils dilating. A
playful smile pulled at the corner of his mouth. A very kissable corner as I
knew from experience. Pleasant memories from that morning crowded my thoughts.

His left hand, dirt-dusted fingers and all, found my right
cheek, cradling my ear between thumb and finger. “Brown, gold, amber, they are
almost as versatile as that pseudo-dragon over there.”

“Pseudo-dragon?” The unusual word cut through the pleasant
spell Tourth wove over my senses. I pushed gently at his shoulders. “Where?”

He indicated the next merlon with his nod. “Sunning itself
over there, you can spot one of his golden eyes watching us.”

I did indeed see a wide, golden lizard eye watching us with
smug interest. The only other easily seen part of him was the leather pouch
along his back. The rest of him blended with the stone, invisible unless one
really concentrated.

“Pseudo-dragons are not native of this area.” I shoved at
Tourth’s shoulder in earnest. “Besides he carries a message.”

My husband reluctantly allowed me to draw away, but he kept
a possessive hand on my bad hip. Memories rose, but I shoved them aside. Now
was not the time.

“I don’t think they are native to any region,” he observed.

The dragon clicked his tongue at Tourth and then regarded
me. “Be careful what you say, Tourth. They are sentient creatures known for
their intelligence as well as the deadly accuracy of their tails.”

The creature turned his attention to Tourth, and if it
possessed eyebrows it would have raised them.

“No offense intended.”

The dragon took a step forward, suddenly revealing himself
in all his glory. A lithe body blended into a powerful tail twice the length of
his torso. At the tip of his tail quivered an array of deadly spikes, ready for
defense or attack. He looked up at me as though inviting me to admire him.

“Should I assume that the message is for me?” I asked.

The creature reluctantly edged closer, clicking softly. Offering
me his back, he wrapped his tail and its weapons far away from me.

I slipped the paper from the leather and stepped back to
read it. Tears filled my eyes at the sight of Taerith’s clear script. I blinked
them back and focused on the words.

My dear brothers and sisters, Come home. Taerith.

Home. I savored the word. We could go home. I needed to send
this on as soon as possible. Memories of my siblings filled my thoughts. My
heart swelled as I stared sightlessly at the lizard.

“I think there is something on the other side of the paper,”
Tourth pointed out.

I flipped the paper over. Across the back in a scrawl that
could only be Aiden’s were the words, “He’s called Egan.” No salutation, no
signature, simple and to the point. Aiden made it home. Taerith and Aiden were
home.

“Nice to meet you, Egan.” My voice broke. Tears flooded my
vision.

Tourth gathered me into his arms, crushing the paper between
us. I buried my face in his chest, savoring his strength and warmth around my
suddenly cold shoulders.

Thank you, gracious Deus.
My words seemed so
inadequate. The Lord would understand.

The deep green canopy of Braedoch Forest passed above the
cart as it labored heavily over the winding way. My stomach protested each and
every jolt. Above, my birds occasionally flew past, checking on our sluggish
progress as they danced effortlessly through the air. Beside me, Kat slept
peacefully; her head pillowed on her husband’s cloak. I marveled at and envied
her.

We were close to our destination. I could feel it in my
bones. I pulled myself up to look at the stretch of path ahead. Three years of
growth encroached on a deer trail never intended for a cart. I scanned tree
trunks instead, seeking a familiar shape. Time didn’t change them as swiftly.

The cart caught an unusually large rock, leaping over it and
dropping off the other side with a jarring thud. Kat woke with a yelp, and my
stomach declared it was going to empty itself. I didn’t wait for Arthus to halt
the cart. Leaping the side, I landed with a jolt. Acid rose as I lunged for the
bushes. I barely grasped the presence of mind to choose a patch of wildgrass
and not the poison oak next to it. Falling to my knees, I let it loose.

“I am coming.” Tourth approached in a thunder of hoof beats.
Within moments he was lifting my hair back from my face. “Deep breaths.” He
rubbed my back. “Remember not to fight it.”

When I finished, we completed the routine we established in
the past weeks. He handed me his waterskin, followed by a rag to wipe my mouth.
While I washed away the rancid mess, he worked at tucking away the stray hair
looping itself around my face.

“Still worth it?” He studied my face.

“Definitely.” I smiled weakly up at him. “And you?”

“I am not sure.” He frowned. “I hate that you have to suffer
so much.”

“It won’t kill me, Tourth.”

His expression declared his doubts, but before he could
voice them, Dardon approached.

“Okay you two love birds. Kat is looking forward to a real
bed tonight and Arthus is determined she should get it. They are itching to get
moving, and I happen to agree. With all these unexpected stops, we are not
making good time.”

“Then start without us,” Tourth suggested. “We can catch
up.”

“Better yet, we will take a short cut,” I suggested.

“But we don’t know the way without you,” Dardon protested.

“Just follow the trail. It will lead you past an ancient
triple-trunked tree with a stream beside it. The roof of the main house should
be visible to the south, if not, follow the stream. You should encounter
someone by then. Aiden and Taerith will be watching the forest.”

Dardon’s eyes narrowed. “Aiden, your big brother? He doesn’t
sound like someone I would like to run into in a strange forest.”

“Just tell him you are with me.”

“And he runs me through for not bringing you with me.”

“Dardon, go.” Tourth pointed toward the cart. “Act peaceably
and I am sure whoever you run into will wait for Wren’s permission to finish
you off.”

Dardon harrumphed, but complied. A few minutes later, the
rest of our party moved off along the trail. I watched them go.

“You do realize that Aiden might not wait for my permission
if Dardon teases him the wrong way,” I pointed out.

“I am more concerned for my own skin.” Tourth brushed my
face and tucked the last strand back behind my left ear. “Your brothers are
going to blame me for your condition.”

I shoved his shoulder and marched off into the woods. “I am
not the first woman to have difficulty. The midwife says most women do this for
the first three months. Kat is the exception.”

An annoying exception, I had to admit. Kat remained
peaceful, constantly sleepy, and unceasingly hungry throughout the beginning of
her pregnancy. She did little more than feed her cravings. Now into her fifth
month, she alternated between excessive energy and exhaustion. As much as I
enjoyed sharing this new experience with my sister-by-law, I sinfully wished my
path wasn’t so rough.
Please help my heart, Father.