by Mia Pride
Gwynneth’s face drained of all its blood. She silently covered her mouth with one hand while the other reached out, scrambling to reach the edge of the table and sat herself upon a bench, just barely making it before her knees collapsed. “My mother died? In child birth?” her voice was a mere whisper, barely audible over the crackling of the hearth.
Seeing Ceara’s green eyes grow wide as panic spread across her face, fearing she had divulged some horribly hidden secret, Duncan quickly strode over to Gwynneth and laid a calming hand on her shoulder. Gwynneth silently stared into the fire, envying Ceara’s knowledge of a life she had lived, yet could not remember.
“My apologizes, Queen Ceara, King Garreth.” He tipped his head in their direction. “I should have informed ye straight away. Lady Gwynneth had a terrible incident occur less than one moon ago. She fell off of the Cliffs of Moher and landed in the angry sea. It was nay an accident, and that is why we are here. Her husband tried to kill her, although we still do not understand why. Liam Mac Cuill found her upon the shore and nursed her to health in an abandoned home between the borders of Iverni and Coraindt. Only Liam and I knew of their location, but Baine tracked them down and tried to take Gwynneth back with him. She fled and I followed. We became lost and could not find our way back to Iverni. Tis only by a miracle of the gods that we found Coraindt after two days lost in the woods.
“I’m afraid my Lady Gwynneth has lost her memory in her terrible ordeal. She cannot remember any detail of her past life, so I’m afraid much of what she learns will be a shock to her.” He sent a warm smile toward Ceara, who was still standing with her hands over her mouth, her large green eyes sparkling with tears as she heard the story.
Ceara slowly walked over to Gwynn and put out a hesitant hand in a gesture of friendship and Gwynneth saw the obvious pain showing on Ceara’s exquisite features. She accepted her hand and Ceara gently pulled Gwynn to her feet and hugged her softly, making an effort to not touch Gwynn’s expanding stomach.
“I’m so very sorry, Lady Gwynneth,” Ceara whispered into Gwynneth’s ear, “You are among friends and we will aide you in any way possible.” Gwynn inhaled deeply and could smell the sweet perfume of lavender mixed with a lingering scent of raspberries, and it made her smile. Those were her favorite scents as well. Ceara pulled away and locked eyes with Gwynneth. Green on green, their eyes burned into one another, a strange bond forming instantly between them as if they had known each other all their lives.
Turning to look simultaneously at the men, their similarities in size and stature were staggering and both men looked sideways at one another with an eerie feeling growing between them. “Right,” King Garreth proclaimed, intentionally loud, as if to disrupt the tension in the room. “My wife is correct. We will aide you in any way we can. Duncan and I have much to discuss. Please allow my wife to escort you back to her mother’s home. She is a wonderful cook and healer, and she can provide you with warmth, a bath, and a clean dress.”
Gwynneth was internally elated at the prospect of a hot bath and a meal. Having no energy left in her, she gave him a weak smile and nodded in acceptance of his offer. Ceara took Gwynneth by the shoulders and guided her out of their home, the warmth of the fire leaving her body as they stepped into the chilly night, allowing the men to discuss their business.
Chapter 9
Following quietly beside Ceara, Gwynneth could hear happy voices and laughter floating in the wind. It was a nightly tradition to sit around the fire, drink ale and share stories. Gwynneth secretly envied the careless laughter of the villagers, never remembering a day in her life when she felt that at ease. Smoke drifted in the misty night air, making her eyes burn as she waved it away with her hands, trying not to breathe it in.
“Garreth is right about my mother, Abigael. She really is a great healer. And, and amazing cook. She has a rabbit stew on the cauldron right now. She will make you feel right at home.” Home. It was a foreign concept to Gwynneth, having no home of her own. But, she was very much looking forward to a warm fire, savory meal, and perhaps a bath.
“Ach, nay! I have only just remembered…” Ceara stopped and turned to look at Gwynneth for a moment before speaking. “A druid on his way to our village found a man on the road that was badly beaten and brought him to my mother to care for him. I hope you don’t mind a man being in the house with you and my mother. He is bedridden behind a curtain and shouldn’t be a problem. Still, I hope you won’t be uncomfortable.”
“Thank you Ceara, but nay, I don’t mind. I’ve been living in the woods for two days, in an abandoned home with a leaky roof before this. Nay injured man can chase me away from a warm hearth and a hot meal!” Giggling at her enthusiasm, both girls linked arms and continued walking to the opposite side of the village.
“I really am very happy to meet you, Gwynn. Growing up, your father spoke so fondly of you. I feel like I’ve known you my entire life. My mother has as well, and will feel honored to care for you. We have fresh clothing for you. Tis mine, but we appear to be about the same size. The beds have lots of animal pelts to keep you warm and plenty of food in the cauldron.” Wanting to ask Gwynneth how far advanced her pregnancy was, Ceara decided against it, afraid to remind her of the husband that tried to harm her. Ceara’s heart warmed instantly to Gwynneth’s plight, and she felt a natural instinct to protect her.
Arriving at the entrance of her mother’s home, Ceara gently tapped on the wooden door to announce her arrival, not wanting to disturb the injured man inside. Her mother opened the door and poked her head out. A warm smile spread across her face as she saw her daughter. Her blue eyes shifted in Gwynneth’s direction, and her face turned serious. Swiftly exiting the warmth of the house, she stepped outside and silently shut the door behind her.
Her hair was a beautiful shade of grey, almost silver, and was tied up on her head in a loose bun. A few curly tendrils escaped their confines, refusing to be tamed. Grey hair aside, Ceara’s mother had a very youthful face with soft blue eyes. She had delicate smile lines around her eyes, reflecting a lifetime of happiness. Gwynn briefly remembered Ceara mentioning that King Doran was very fond of her mother, and she wondered if those years of happiness with her father were reflected in Abigael’s eyes.
With a knowing sound in her voice, Ceara’s mother nodded in acceptance of Gwynneth’s arrival. “Gwynneth, daughter of Doran,” she said with a soft, but assured voice, and allowed a small smile to play across her lips. “Welcome to my home, I knew you would be arriving soon.”
Slightly startled by Abigael’s abrupt knowledge of her identity, Gwynn looked at Ceara for reassurance. Ceara shot a look of warning at her mother. “Gwynneth, this is my mother, Abigael. She knew your father well. She must have recognized him in your features.” Giving her mother a squinting look of annoyance, Ceara linked arms again with Gwynn and Abigael escorted them into the warm, fragrant house.
A wall of smoke assailed Gwynn’s nostrils and made her eyes sting with tears as she adjusted to her stifling surroundings. She could smell the herbs of chamomile and mint wafting in the air as soon as she entered the room. Even without her memory, Gwynn’s extensive knowledge of herbs must have been engrained into her mind, for she recognized these as healing herbs, apparently being used to medicate the air for the injured man lying somewhere within the house.
Guiding Gwynn by the elbow to a small wooden table by the cauldron, Abigael gently sat her down on one of the cushions surrounding the low table’s length. The smell of the rabbit stew instantly made her stomach growl and she deeply inhaled the savory scent. Without having to ask, Ceara was by her side with a clay bowl of stew, a cup of ale and a haunch of fresh bread. Smiling widely at the two women, who were already taking such great care of her, she mumbled an appreciative “thank you,” and picked the warm bowl up, letting the warmth radiate through her hands. Slowly sipping the thick juice of the stew, she closed her eyes and felt, for the first time in several days, like she might just be alright. She heard a groan come from so
mewhere on the other side of the house, and quickly snapped out of her thoughts, looking up startled.
“That’s the man that was found down the hill from our village. He was beaten badly and disoriented. All we could get out of him was he was attacked by a group of men and he wished to travel home. Of course, with bruised ribs and a blow to the head, we had to convince him to stay put. Men can be so stubborn.” Abigael smiled as she walked over to the cauldron to scoop some stew into a bowl. “I suppose that groan means he is awake. I should feed him. But then I need to leave to go give herbs to an ill man in the village.”
She walked over to the opposite side of the house where two spare beds resided. Each bed had tall wooden posts with blue wool curtains strung across, supplying privacy to its occupant. Abigael pulled the curtain back and began to tend to the man lying within.
Left alone, Ceara and Gwynneth ate their supper in an awkward silence, but Gwynneth was too exhausted and hungry to worry about the lack of conversation and she repeatedly brought the bowl up to her mouth, savoring the warmth, taste, and fragrance of the stew.
“We will need to come up with a plan.” Ceara said as she took a sip of her stew and looked up at Gwynn’s reaction. “To get you back home, and to keep you away from your husband.” Ceara put the bowl down slowly on the table, turned her body towards Gwynneth and placed her hands in her lap. She was so petite and womanly, Gwynneth could not stop starring at her with admiration, feeling herself lacking in every way.
“Can I ask you something?” Ceara sounded hesitant and Gwynn knew it would be a personal question. Swallowing hard in preparation, she looked up at Ceara’s steady gaze and nodded her consent.
“Why do you not separate from your husband…Baine, you said his name was? The tribal assembly, or even the king of your tuath, will surely agree to disband your marriage, now that abuse is involved.”
Looking shocked at this very private and bold question, Gwynn breathed in deeply, pondering the question, and unsure of an answer. Her first thought was of her unborn child, as she rubbed her abdomen. Seeing this reaction, Ceara smiled and placed a hand on top of Gwynn’s as it continued to rest on her babe.
“I understand that you are with child, Gwynn. But any man who would try to kill his wife, will not be a gentle father. You need to think of your child. If you have nowhere to stay, you are welcome to stay with us.”
“Honestly, I’m not sure why I stayed with Baine for so long.” Gwynn shrugged as her thoughts went back to Liam, hoping he was safely returned to Iverni and that Baine was no longer a threat. “I cannot remember him at all. We were married when I was fifteen, and I was already handfast to another man. I know I’ve spent five years with him, but aside from what Liam has told me, I remember nothing. Perhaps I stayed with him for my father’s sake. The marriage seemed so important to him.” Her shoulders slumped as she lifted her head, releasing a deep breath.
Ceara’s face twisted into a look of confusion as she prodded for answers. “Liam?”
“Liam is my…” Gwynneth paused and made a hesitant face while she rubbed her forehead. “Liam is the man I was handfast to, before I married Baine. My father wanted me to marry the man he thought would be his successor. Liam was his first choice, but he refused the honor, not knowing that in doing so, he would lose me.” An image of Liam meeting her at the birch tree shot through her mind like lightning. It wasn’t a dream; she was sure of it now. She had remembered their handfast ceremony that night in the woods. “Liam found me on the shore after I jumped off the cliff.”
Ceara gasped at Gwynn and dropped her hand in shock. “You…jumped? Why ever would you do that?” Ceara was dripping in curiosity. Gwynneth found it interesting that Ceara seemed so emotionally invested in her life so quickly. For some reason, her intrusion and boldness did not bother Gwynn as much as she would expect it to.
“Baine had a knife and seemed to know exactly where he was taking me in the blackness of the new moon, for he had nay trouble navigating me. I could hear the waves crashing and feel the rocks under my feet. I knew where we were, and knew I had better escape before he truly pushed the knife into my back. So, I jumped.” Gwynn shrugged nonchalantly, as if jumping off of the Cliff of Moher was a perfectly sane decision.
Ceara’s mouth was wide open and her head was slowly moving back and forth in disbelief. “So, when you awoke, you had nay memories of your past. And Liam had saved you and cared for you?”
Deciding that Ceara’s short version of an otherwise intense story was good enough, Gwynn just silently nodded in confirmation.
“Well. I think tis quite obvious what you need to do,” Ceara said with resolve as she smacked her palm against the rough surface of the wooden table. Still not speaking, Gwynn just cocked her head at Ceara and encouraged her to continue her thoughts. Gwynn was thoroughly amused by Ceara’s need to fix her life, after only knowing her for an evening.
“Well, obviously,” she said with annoyance and authority, “this Liam is still madly in love with you! Do you really believe he simply stumbled across you on the shore? Och, nay! He hunted you down, Gwynneth! He saved you and protected you. Tis all so romantic!” For dramatic effect, Ceara put her left palm across her forehead and pretended to swoon, causing Gwynn to laugh in earnest. It was so wonderful to have a friend, even if they had just met. Having another woman’s perspective was just what she needed.
“I am serious, Gwynn. Why are you not rushing home to approach the king for a dissolution of your marriage? You could be Liam’s wife in less than a fortnight!” Thinking that this was the answer to all of Gwynn’s troubles, Ceara leaned over and excitedly wrapped her arms around Gwynn’s prostrate body.
Feeling no response to her enthusiasm on Gwynneth’s end, Ceara pulled back, leaving her outstretched arms still resting on Gwynn’s shoulders and searched Gwynn’s questioning eyes. “What is it? Whatever could be wrong with you leaving the abusive fool that you married and starting a better life with your first true love?”
When Ceara put it that way, it all seemed so simple. However, Gwynn had serious doubts of her own. Not quite knowing how to tell Ceara why she had reservations against Liam, Gwynneth shrugged and mumbled under her breath, “I do not trust him.”
Ceara’s green eyes flew open in shock and her mouth dropped open, for the fifth time that evening, and it made Gwynn want to laugh again. “Aye, Liam did track me down and save my life. I will forever owe him for that. Tis what he did afterward that gives me cause to not trust him.”
She paused and stared at Ceara, waiting for her animated new friend to start flailing her arms in the air or begging for more details. Instead, she saw a very serious Ceara with her eyes boring into Gwynneth’s, silently demanding explanations. “You see, when I awoke from my accident with nay memory, Liam altered my past. He led me to believe he was my husband, and that he was the father of my child. He never mentioned Baine or the death of my father. I wonder how long he would have kept me inside that old house in the woods, pretending I was his wife, and…”
“Nay!” Ceara shrieked dubiously. “Did he…did you…when you thought he was…”
Turning beet red at the thoughts that must be coursing through Ceara’s mind, Gwynneth held a hand up to her chest in defense. “Nay, nay we did not!” She nibbled on her lower lip in deep thought, deciding how to best explain her unusual circumstances. “Nay, Liam did not lie with me. He took great pains to control himself…to my dismay.” She made a mock pouty face at her friend, trying to lighten the mood. “I suppose, in the end, I am still a faithful wife, so he kept my honor. But the lies, Ceara. I cannot forgive the deceit and lies.”
Ceara twisted her bottom lip between her fingers as she, quite unsuccessfully, tried to cover her mirth. “I understand. I do. But, Gwynn, put yourself in the man’s position. The love of his life is torn away from him only to be married to a horrible man who tried to kill her. He saves her life and, to his shock, she remembers nothing. His two choices were to give you a happy memory of life and ho
pe for a chance to start again with you, or to remind you that your husband is a monster and your father has died! Which would you choose, had it been you?”
Giving Gwynn a sideways look with one eyebrow arched for dramatic effect, Ceara changed the subject unexpectedly. “Speaking of handsome men, Gwynn…” she whispered as she leaned in and covered her mouth with her hands to keep from being overheard, “the man behind that curtain needs his dressing changed and I promised my mother I would do it while she is tending another. To be honest, I do not have the same healing hand that my mother does. Would you be a dear and go check on his wounds? I promise he is worth the effort.” Ceara waggled her brows suggestively and headed toward the door.
In spite of the kind way Ceara had asked, she left Gwynneth little choice as she was already half way out the door. Deciding she should be as helpful as possible to her hosts, Gwynn walked over to the man’s bed and pulled back the hanging blue curtain.
Gwynneth screeched and jumped back, holding a hand to her pounding chest. Piercing cobalt eyes squinted up at her as they adjusted to the stream of fire light interrupting his rest. Her mouth dropped open and her eyes grew wide as she spun around quickly to make eye contact with Ceara, standing by the door. Shock had replaced every word in Gwynn’s vocabulary, as her mouth open and shut as if to speak but unable to do so.
Stopping with one leg out of the open door, Ceara turned slightly to look at Gwynneth and gave her a knowing smirk. “By the way, the man we found yesterday said he was seeking a woman named Gwynneth. His name happens to be Liam...so strange.” She gave Gwynneth a wink and slammed the door behind her, heading home to her husband.