Wings Over Tremeirchson

by Linda Ulleseit

  Chapter 8: Aftermath

  Neste opened her eyes to gray daylight seeping in the window past the draperies. The mist made it hard to tell if morning or afternoon greeted her, but it made no difference. Her heart was empty either way. Clunking noises drew her attention toward the small table. The unmistakable black-cowled robe belonged to Kenn. He stirred something in a clay bowl, his back to her.

  “Kenn?” Her voice rasped and she cleared her throat.

  “Ah, you’re awake. Good.” His lined face smiled, but the usual sparkle in his eyes was gone. He approached the bed and held a cup to her lips. “Drink a little water first.”

  Neste sipped. “Diolch.” She moved an arm under her, trying to sit up, but muscles in her arm, torso, and hip ached. She winced and sank back onto the pillows.

  “Na, don’t move,” Kenn warned her. “Elen sent a flower. White garlic is it?” He nodded toward the pewter tankard. Another white flower had been tucked into the small bouquet. Neste nodded as Kenn continued. “Your leg has been set, but it needs to heal. The bone did not poke through the skin, so there is no wound to infect. That’s good. The leeches have been applied to your good leg to draw harmful humors away from the injury.” He went back to his bowl, muttering more to himself than Neste. “Sanguine humors appear to be dominant. That makes sense. No phlegm or yellow bile, so fire and water are in balance. Good, good.”

  Neste stopped listening. Kenn had taken away the blanket so he could examine her injuries. Someone, hopefully Glynis, had stripped her of competition clothes and put her in a clean shift. She pulled it further over her stomach. Her right leg felt heavy. She couldn’t move it and knew she shouldn’t try. Kenn put a cold compress on the leg, pressing firmly.

  The door opened and Glynis came in. “Kenn, can I get you some dinner? Oh, Neste, you’re awake.”

  “I’m fine, diolch.” Neste grimaced, well aware her sister hadn’t asked. She looked at the white garlic flowers and wondered if Elen had tried to visit during the morning. If Glynis offered dinner, it was early afternoon.

  “Soreness will ease by tomorrow,” Kenn promised her. “No wine for her, Glynis. A restorative tea with tisane will help the pain. Small meals for a few days. Give her a simple broth for dinner today.”

  Glynis nodded and left the room without another word to Neste.

  “Kenn? Did Elen come by?”

  His face hovered over her again, frowning. “No, she stayed outside in the lane. She met me coming up the walk and gave me the flower. She said you’d appreciate it.”

  Neste’s brow furrowed. “Oh, I do. Glynis wouldn’t let her in yesterday.”

  Kenn had finished discussing visitors. He’d imparted his instructions and made ready to leave. “Tomorrow we can give you a crutch and get you out of that bed. You’ll feel some pain, but it will be bearable.”

  Neste nodded. Her first walk would be to her mother’s room. Mum must be worried.

  Kenn left, and Glynis came in with tea and broth. She set them on the table Kenn had just emptied and pulled it close enough to the bed that Neste could reach it.

  “Glynis, why did you send Elen away? You know we’re friends.”

  Her sister pursed her lips. “Elen was a childhood friend. It’s time you moved on to the adult world.” Neste must have looked confused. Glynis went on, “Yesterday Hoel asked me to keep her away. Your duty is to your future husband.”

  “Hoel asked you?” Neste repeated, stunned. Hoel must have heard of Elen’s betrothal to Morgan. “If she comes again, Glynis, please let her in.”

  Her sister’s face turned to stone. “Da wanted you to marry Hoel. How can you even think about changing his wishes?”

  Confused, Neste shook her head. “How am I changing his wishes?”

  “If you anger Hoel, he’ll break the betrothal.”

  Neste almost laughed. Hoel would do no such thing. If anyone broke the betrothal it would be her. Laughter died. Hoel cared for her. Adam caused the accident.

  “I will continue to do what he says with regard to your care. That means no visit from Elen.”

  Glynis was as stubborn as Hoel. It didn’t matter. Once she got used to the crutches, Neste could visit Elen at the fountain. She said nothing more.

  Satisfied, Glynis left the room.

  Neste sipped her tea. The broth smelled wonderful, and tasted even better. After a few spoonfuls, the door opened once more. Adam stood nervously in the doorway. He smoothed his blonde hair with his hand. His other hand held his cap. Stunned, Neste could only stare at him.

  Adam’s words tumbled out of his mouth. “Uh, How are you doing? I mean I thought I’d stop by… are you all right? Look I’m sorry. I really didn’t mean to hurt you. Or Llawen. I didn’t mean to hurt her.”

  Still staring, Neste said nothing. She tried to put herself in Adam’s place. He knew he didn’t have the skill to fly the complicated dance. She was the one who’d begged Hoel to let him. He’d panicked, though, and allowed disaster to occur. She certainly wasn’t going to forgive him for that. The silence between them grew awkward.

  “I’m sorry,” he repeated. He looked and sounded like a small child caught doing something wrong. “Mae’n ddrwg gen i.”

  Neste almost laughed, incredulous. She often tried to use Welsh to make things better, and she knew it didn’t work. Reflecting on the uselessness of apologies, she said, “And that makes it all better?”

  Adam dropped his eyes to the floor. Both hands twisted his cap. “Na, it doesn’t. I know that.”

  “It’s not even my injury,” Neste said. As she spoke, her words got louder. “It’s the nerve you have, coming here and thinking that a few words could replace Llawen’s life. Or those words could be a salve to your conscience. I know you don’t feel the same about Mallt, but Llawen was a part of me.” Emotion ran so high, Neste ran out of appropriate words.

  Adam looked up, his face pale. “I’m…”

  Nest interrupted, “Don’t say it again.”

  Adam flushed. He opened his mouth, thought better of it, and slipped out the door.

  Neste’s body shook with emotion. She forced herself to take slow deep breaths until her fury abated. Even so, every time she thought about Adam’s visit, rage boiled. How could she ever have been attracted to a pretty, little boy who couldn’t take responsibility?

  “Did you have a nice visit from your friend?” Glynis asked as she breezed into the room, her voice in the same tone she used to cheer Mum. Assuming a pleasant response, Glynis gathered the dishes from Neste’s dinner.

  “He’s not my friend,” Neste growled. “He caused the accident. I never want to see him again. He has no business in a barn or aboard a horse. Hoel should banish him from Tremeirchson.” Inexplicably, she burst into tears.

  Startled, Glynis stared.

  “What’s the matter?” Neste gasped through her tears. “That is exactly Hoel’s sentiment. You should be thrilled I agree with him.”

  Glynis didn’t respond. She hurried from the room.

  Neste seethed with anger and sobbed with grief. Images poured through her head of Adam being banished, from barn, from town, from all winged horses forever. Eventually the anger spun out of her head. Llawen was gone. With her went the thrill of flight, competition, and the camaraderie of riders, as well as any flirtation with Adam. Now she was only Hoel’s betrothed. If he still wanted her. She cried until her eyes emptied her body of tears, then lay spent against the pillows, staring at Elen’s white flowers.

  Without Llawen, her life had no purpose. Neste was of the air, a dreamer like Elen, and now she had no wings, no reason for existing. She would spend the rest of her life watching Hoel fly Lleu and Adam fly Mallt.

  The world outside her window darkened as night approached. Glynis brought supper, but she hurried in and out without saying a word. Neste ate a few bites, knowing she had to build her strength, but she tasted nothing. She tossed and turned until her window grayed with dawn once more. Today, she vowed, she would get out
of here. She could no longer lie here steeped in anger and grief. She must find something to keep her busy, something else to worry about.

  As if in answer to her prayers, the door opened. Kenn came in, looking harried. He checked Neste’s leg, but his face didn’t relax.

  “It’s not getting better?” she asked.

  “Na, na, it’s healing well but still early.” Clearly distracted, his eyes met hers, then looked down. Neste waited for him to tell her what bothered him. “I brought a crutch. Practice walking, just in the house.”

  Neste nodded, still watching his eyes. He wouldn’t look at her as he fetched the crutch from the hallway.

  Kenn helped Neste into a sitting position. Her sore body protested, but she gritted her teeth against the pain. Kenn helped her to stand and slipped the crutch under her right arm. Tentatively, Neste put weight on her right leg, heavy with the splint. If she clenched her teeth, she might be able to do this. Kenn looked anxious, wringing his hands and scowling.

  “It’ll be all right,” Neste said, wishing strength into her voice. She hobbled toward the door. “I’ll visit Mum and come back.”

  When she entered her mother’s room, Mum looked pleased but worried to see Neste. “Cariad, are you sure you’re ready to be up and about?”

  Kenn stepped into the room behind Neste. “It’s a simple fracture. Soldiers on a battlefield keep fighting with injuries like this.”

  Neste grimaced. “No wonder they yell and hit things.” She perched on the bed and forced a smile. “I’m fine, Mum. How are you today?”

  “Worried about my youngest daughter,” she said with a frown.

  Neste picked up a softly bound leather book lying next to her mother. “Kenn, did you bring this?”

  “It’s my Book of Hours. I hope it will give you and your mother some hours of pleasure.” His words attempted humor, but his brow still furrowed over anxious eyes. “My father wrote it. Flowers were one of his special interests.”

  “Should I read to you, Mum?” Neste opened the precious book, grateful that her father had insisted all his children learn to read and write. Illustrations of flowers covered the pages, surrounded by cramped script. Neste peered closely at it. Descriptions of the flowers, their medicinal uses, and even legends about them surrounded the pictures.

  Her mother lay back and closed her eyes. “I would love to hear the sound of your voice, cariad.”

  Kenn inched toward the door. “You’ll be all right getting back to your room, Neste?”

  “Diolch, Kenn, iawn. I’ll be fine. Mum, here’s a story about heather mead. After a war between tribes only two Picts remained, a father and son, who knew the secret recipe for this drink. The victors tried to force the father to tell the recipe by putting his son to death. This pleased the father because his son, being young, might have been more easily forced to reveal the secret.”

  As Neste read, Kenn slipped out of the room.

  After a few pages of flower lore, Neste closed the book and lay it on the bed. Her mother’s sharp eyes that never missed anything watched and waited. Neste took a deep breath. “Mum, I’m an air person without wings.”

  “Cariad, are you sure?”

  “Llawen is gone.” Neste couldn’t believe her mother had forgotten.

  “Oh, I know, I know. Being an air person is not the same thing as being a rider. Your brother Niall is air, and he lives in Merioneth. An air person surrounds themselves with dreams. Everything they think about is set in a rosy future. Many air people become riders, but many of them are in the clouds only in their mind.”

  “I didn’t know that,” Neste said, but she knew her mother was right. Niall had always had big dreams. As children, they would pretend they were riding flying horses and stage mock competitions. For Neste, it was always about the present competition. Niall, on the other hand, had dreamed of a dynasty. They’d laughed at him.

  “Your sister, now, is earth,” Mum continued. “Sometimes I feel guilty that she must wait on me like I’m a fine lady, but that’s her nature. She’s nurturing, likes to care for life and watch it grow. I am the same.” Her eyes strayed to the window and the colorful flowers in her garden. “An earth person’s garden, or children, are as important to them as an air person’s dreams.”

  Neste considered each of her brothers. “Cadoc must be earth. He hammers iron all day with the blacksmith.”

  “Iron is earth,” her mother agreed. “But think about how Cadoc become apprenticed to the blacksmith. Did he long for it like Aidan longed for the sky?”

  “I don’t think so.” Neste tried to remember. Da had planned to see each of his children settled when they were very small. Had he pushed Cadoc into something he didn’t want?

  “Your littlest brother always wanted what his older brothers and sisters had. When he played with Glynis, he wanted to work in the garden. When he spent time with Niall or Aidan, he dreamed of grand adventures.”

  “He used to pretend to be injured when I practiced how to use herbs,” Neste said.

  “Cadoc is a classic water person. He’s flexible, able to throw himself wholeheartedly into whatever is in front of him.”

  “But what about me?” Neste asked. “If I’m not air…”

  Her mother didn’t answer.

  Neste thought about how guilty she felt leaving Glynis to care for their mother alone. Neste also loved flowers, and had given one to Elen. Most of all, she enjoyed healing. Horse and people benefitted from her care. “Could I be earth?”

  Mum smiled and reached out a hand to pat Neste’s arm. “Cariad, you must find your own balance. Everyone is a blend of earth, air, and water. Your father was the most balanced person I know. He tried so hard to encourage you children to explore lives that would balance your strengths.”

  “So he thought being a rider would balance my water and earth,” Neste mused. “Oh, I wish he hadn’t left us!”

  “Niall went to Merioneth to work with Lord Farley’s horses—nurturing to balance the dreams. Yet now he is a scribe who advises the lord on matters pertaining to Tremeirchson. He follows dreams. Aidan is the only one who resisted your father’s efforts and became a rider, soothing his air. But Aidan is typical of those who don’t seek to strengthen their weaker sides. He is totally unable to communicate with anyone who doesn’t share his dreams. It gets in the way of his ability to live a full, rich life.”

  “That’s why he never waves at me when I see him.” Somehow her brother knew she wasn’t air before she did. “You’ve given me much to think about, Mum.”

  “And what about your heart? Is it whole?”

  Neste hesitated. “Hoel stood by me after Adam almost killed me.” She shook her head. “I can’t love someone who panics in a dangerous situation, but I can love someone who steps up to take charge in the aftermath.”

  Mum nodded, patted Neste’s hand, and smiled, her eyes tired.

  Neste stood and arranged the crutches under her arms. Biting her lip to hide the pain from her mother, she hobbled back to her own room. Once more propped against her pillows, Neste reflected on her mother’s words. The old religion based on elements had been overcome in most of the country. Christians brought new ideas. In the mountains, though, many people still followed Rhiannon and the three horse gods, Aer, Ystrad, and Alon—Air, Earth, and Water. Neste had always been too wrapped up in Llawen to think about balancing elements. When she thought of people who were passionate about dreams, or nurturing children, she realized they were not people she enjoyed visiting. The last element, fire, related to passion. Passion, like fire, was dangerous when it raged out of control.

  Tired from too much thinking and aching from her short walk, Neste closed her eyes. Floating between reality and dreams seemed to be the best place to be. She didn’t have to think, didn’t have to make decisions, didn’t have to remember.