A River of Orange

by Roberta C. M. DeCaprio

  * * * *

  Rule had been hiding in a nearby copse of trees, admiring the slim, wild beauty as she drank from the mineral spring and took in her surroundings. Her jutting breasts and narrow waist were well proportioned to her delicate frame, yet there was strength about her, a force that did not lessen her femininity. Her head was capped by a mass of amber curls. The long, fiery strands tumbled carelessly down her back and brushed back and forth over firm, rounded hips.

  Rule had been prowling his usual haunt to do a bit of quin furena, good hunting, when she had taken him by surprise, standing at the edge of the river, the sun gleaming on the deep copper strands of her hair. Monca! Where had this enchanting character come from?

  He had remained hidden, watching her sneak peeks between the bushes at the sensuous Loreli performing her afternoon pleasures. Rule had enjoyed observing the mermaid's ritual many times as well, but now, the seductive young woman touching herself in places he would love to experience for himself mesmerized his thoughts.

  Rule swept his thick, coarse tongue across his jowl, waiting in anticipation for the shapely maiden to shed the tattered garments that covered her splendor. He growled deep in his throat as the beautiful young woman's skirt rose high over her supple thighs. She was just about to touch herself, when the blissful mood was broken by the snorting that emerged from the trees beyond the sea nymph's rock.

  * * * *

  In an instant a wild boar pounced forth from the vegetation and with fast, stubby legs ran toward the beautiful sunbather. Just as the ugly animal neared the mermaid, she expanded her fin, shimmered into the water and swam away.

  Meav sighed, relieved that the water woman had escaped safely. But her relief was soon replaced by sheer fright. The nasty animal was now running straight for the bush where Meav hid. Before she could think on her own behalf the boar was beside her; his pig nose dripping with yellow discharge, and the sharp, protruding teeth ready to rip her to shreds.

  "Lord be merciful,” she choked, backing slowly away from the beast.

  The ugly creature moved closer, salivating and making guttural noises.

  Meav's foot hit a rock and she fell backward.

  The boar leaped forward.

  Rule felt the hairs on his spine bristle. In an instant he pounced forth and in mid-air gripped the boar by the throat. The ugly hog squealed as Rule sunk his fangs into its tough hide. The boar's blood darkened the earth; its screams of horror dying away as he made his kill. Then there was silence.

  Dropping the bore's lifeless body, Rule slowly turned his attention toward the young maiden. With a swipe of his tongue he licked away the pig's blood dripping from his mouth. On sleek, long legs he made his way to her, his outsized paws sinking into the soft sand.

  The panther's amber eyes locked with hers as it moved closer, so near, that Meav could feel the warmth of its breath. The cat growled, exposing sharp, massive teeth. She stayed riveted to where she sat. Her heart beat rapidly against the walls of her chest. Deeper he peered into her eyes then searched her face, his large jaws looming over her neck. Would he now rip her throat as he had the boar's?

  Rule thought her azure eyes were as blue as the sea. Her peach-tinted skin was flawless except for the soft pattern of freckles that dotted her straight, charming nose. Slowly his eyes roamed over the nubile curves beneath her clothes. He could feel his loins tighten; his blood ran hot through his veins.

  Slowly, he lowered his mouth to the hollow of her neck. Gently he licked her with his rough, bloody tongue, tasting her flesh.

  Meav suddenly felt very tired, a peace washed through her, that she had only known in deep sleep. She felt every muscle in her body go limp, and her eyelids grew heavy. The beast's golden eyes were the last thing she saw before darkness flooded the edges of her world.

  * * * *

  The elderly woman looked down at the enchanting, young female before her. Rule had brought the tattered individual to her humble cottage and arrogantly expected her to help. Slowly the old crone knelt down on her sore, boney knees beside the bed, wet a cloth from a basin of water on the wooden stand, and began to wash the younger girl's sullied face. The auburn haired beauty did not stir; Wysteria's touch was not enough to raise her from the deep sleep spell Rule had cast. As she cleaned the girl's cuts and scraps, Wysteria thought back to the intrusion of an hour ago.

  Rule had unexpectedly marched into her abode, carrying a woman in his muscular arms.

  "She is in need of healing, Wysteria,” he had snapped, lying the maiden upon Wysteria's bed. “And wash the putrid smell from her body,” he had added, wrinkling his nose from the stench. “Do what needs to be done, seda!” he had demanded, stalking to the door.

  "Seda, seda ... always now with you,” she had retorted sharply. “But how ... sute ... am I to care for this waif without knowing her birth sign?” she grumbled, putting her sewing aside.

  "I do not care sute, just do it seda,” Rule had shouted over his shoulder.

  "Each of the twelve houses of the birth chart governs a definite part of the body, its weaknesses and strengths. ‘Tis my duty as a healer to know the exact compound of herbs in respect of planetary laws, or else the active principal of one will counteract the active principal of another,” Wysteria had explained.

  His massive frame had halted at the dwelling's opening, blocking the sunlight from entering the small house. Slowly he turned around. “And will not knowing her birth sign be injurious?"

  "Nay, but ‘tis a waste of time, of herbs, of..."

  Rule's amber eyes fixed harshly on Wysteria. “I care not for any of these things,” he had bellowed. “You will do as you are told, ancient one, else I'll have your old bones hung to dry and bleach in the hot sun."

  Wysteria stood abruptly from her chair and waved her hand dramatically above her head, dismissing his threat. “Much wind pours from your mouth, Rule.” She had matched his glare, thrusting out a defiant chin. “You can go kiss an orkly for all your threats, it matters not to me.” She had looked over at the young woman asleep in her bed, and her heart softened. “Should I choose to help her, ‘tis because her inner spirit beckons to me, and not because you demand it."

  Rule's wide shoulders had tensed. “I have no time for your insubordination, old woman. Just care for the girl, seda!” his deep voice had grated.

  Now Wysteria slowly rose to her feet. With gnarled hands she emptied the basin and refilled it with clean water from a cistern. Before returning to her new charge she closed her eyes and mentally summoned Merrow, Chieftain of the Elwins.

  Merrow's deep, soothing voice filled her thoughts. "What is it you need, dear healer?"

  "The help of two of your women,” Wysteria mentally replied.

  "Which two do you request?"

  "Twila and Raika,” she quickly answered.

  "Say no more," Merrow responded.

  Within a matter of moments the two albino women entered the cottage.

  "Vedela," Twila chirped.

  Wysteria nodded tautly at the first Elwin woman. “Greetings to you too, Twila. I thank you for coming to my aid so quickly."

  "Why are you in need of us, Wysteria?” Raika questioned.

  Wysteria pointed to Meav sleeping on the bed. “The mere wisp of a girl there is in bad need of a bath. I need help in undressing and washing her.” She smiled warmly at the second Elwin woman. “I know your daughter Aliki is almost ready to give birth, so I will not keep you long."

  Raika's soft, pale, pink eyes filled with curiosity. “Who is she?"

  Wysteria shrugged. “I have not the slightest notion. Rule brought her to me only an hour ago, demanding she be cared for."

  Twila moved to stand beside Raika, and peered down at the sleeping maiden. Gently she picked up one of Meav's hands. “Dainty bones, do you not agree, Raika?"

  Raika gently pushed aside a rich auburn curl from the girl's forehead. “Aye, she is sweet faced, in spite of all the dirt.” She smiled mischievously. “No doubt Rule has seen this as
well."

  Twila giggled lightly. “I am sure you are right, sister."

  Wysteria moved to stand at the foot of the bed, crossing her arms over her boney chest. “Are you ladies finished discussing her attributes?"

  Both the Elwin women nodded.

  "Then help me strip her of these horrid garments and get her into a tub of water."

  In her sleepy haze, Meav felt the gentle administering to her body. Oh how glorious the tiny hands felt that scrubbed her head, making her scalp tingle. Another pair of hands washed her breasts, belly, parted her thighs and cleansed her sex. Each stroke of the soft cloth was tender, refreshing to her abused flesh. The heather scent pleased her senses, and clung to her dreams, as she pictured herself lying in a field of the sweet smelling blooms. She thought to rise from her sleep, but the care she was receiving felt superior, so wonderfully delicious, that to halt it would be foolish.

  Meav could feel the caring hands wipe her dry and rub soothing salve gently into the parts of her that ached; her back, her shoulders, her thighs, the cuts and scraps along her feet and ankles. Was this heaven? Were these the hands of angels preparing her for eternity? She struggled to open her eyes, but a gentle influence coaxed her to remain slumbering.

  "Questa ven ... rest well little one."

  The voice was sweet to Meav's ears, like a beautiful song, lilting and light. What could it hurt to let the caresses, the care, continue? She felt safe and loved, totally relaxed. Her body was finally free from the rancid stench. Ah, ‘tis a glorious state for sure that she now experienced, and as long as she did not wonder how or why, she imagined she could easily enjoy it for just a wee bit longer.

  Wysteria conjured up a salve made from TusSilahgo farfara, which binds toxins in the system and removes them; and Symphytum officinale, which serves as a demulcent, expectorant, and emollient. The leaves from this herb were a great poultice for cuts and wounds, and possessed pain relieving properties.

  She rubbed the mixture along the young woman's spine; working in circular motions around the firm, rounded buttocks, down to her thighs, calves, and ankles. It was there she stopped short, examining the crescent shaped mark on the bottom of the young girl's right heel. She traced the form with her finger, over and over. Could it be her old eyes were deceiving her? Was, after all these years, after all these centuries, she to be the one privileged to witness what those before her foretold?

  Slowly Wysteria made her way to the table, setting her old bones down on the jinni, a stool her father had carved from a single piece of hardwood. She reached for her medicine book. The cover, made of cornhusks and palm leaves, was inscribed with mysterious hand-sculpted symbols. It bound the pages of the spells, the recipes for her healing herbs, and the Prophecy of the isle of Keronia, made by Wysteria's grandfather a half a century ago. She reached for the bronze lantern by one of its dragon shaped handles and brought it closer to the book. Carefully she turned each yellowed leaf, until she found what she searched for.

  Twila came beside her. “What is it you look for, dear healer?"

  Wysteria pointed toward the maiden without raising her eyes from the book. “Look on the bottom of her right heel and tell me what you see?"

  Both the Elwin women examined Meav's foot.

  "'Tis the crescent of Keronia,” Raika gasped.

  Twila nodded slowly, looking somewhat stunned. “I have actually lived to see this day,” she muttered and turned toward Wysteria. “Is she the one, then?"

  Raika covered Meav's naked body with a clean linen sheet. “Thank our Divine Maker,” she whispered.

  Twila moved toward the table. “Is she the one, dear healer?” she repeated anxiously.

  Wysteria looked up from her reading, the translucent depths of her topaz eyes misty with hope. “Aye, she is the one, she is Meridith's child.” She pointed to the page. “The one the Prophecy speaks of."

  The two Elwin women clapped their hands with joy.

  "Read to us what the Prophecy says,” Raika asked.

  Wysteria cleared the emotion from her throat and returned her old eyes to the page before her. “Constellia Lo glowena timenta coupla ... a star shall shine on the hour of this meeting, for all is not doomed, dear Keronians,” she read aloud. “The one who steps upon the crescent moon, with hair like fire and eyes like the sea, will arrive in the night; tattered and worn, hungry and scared. She will be innocent of her own powers; of the blood that runs through her veins. Only she ... with the same blood as the evil one ... can undo what the evil one has done. Only she ... with love of her own accord and that of a true heart ... can save the Highest Son. Only His Majesty's love from his own accord in return, will then break the curse and Keronia will be rid of the one with the evil heart. Elders of the isle, teach the fire-haired maiden well how to use the gifts of her ancestors. In turn, she will save your rule."

  Tears filled Twila's pale eyes. “Yaluna ... at last we will be set free."

  Raika brought a small, chubby hand over her heart. “Gone will be Devora's reign."

  Wysteria looked up sharply from the book. “Hush, Raika, lest she hear you."

  Raika quickly slapped her hand over her mouth and looked around the room in fear. “I am sorry, dear healer,” she apologized. “I got carried away with hope."

  Twila put a comforting arm around her sister's shoulders and drew her close, then spoke to Wysteria, “That Prophecy was foretold by your grandfather. Devora's grandfather as well ... would she not already know of things to come?"

  "Nay,” Wysteria whispered. “My dear grandfather only allowed the eldest child of each generation to learn how to read the symbols. Because your Chieftain's ancestors and mine were the original knights of Keronia, only you Elwins and I know what these pages hold. Devora knows nothing about the Prophecy and we must keep it that way."

  Raika nodded in agreement. “My lips are sealed."

  "We must be very cautious, Raika. Devora's henchmen are everywhere. One never knows where they lurk, what they hear, or how quickly they bring her what they have learned,” Wysteria warned.

  She closed the book and stood, moving to the window and looking out over the field. “Devora was not always evil,” Wysteria said softly. “I remember fondly the days my younger sister and I had laughed and played in the very fields I am gazing at now, collecting herbs and flowers for mixtures we would use in the healing of injured animals.” Devora's sweet smile, the way she had brought joy to all she met suddenly filled Wysteria's memory. “In my mind's eye, I can almost reach out and touch Devora's beautiful ebony curls, see her violet eyes crinkle with her laughter."

  Wysteria wiped the lone tear slipping down her thin cheeks before turning to face the Elwin women. “I am sorry; I meant not to frighten you.” She forced a smile. “Thank you for your help. You may go now to your homes."

  Both the tiny women nodded and made their way to the door.

  "And, I beg of you,” Wysteria called after them. “Breathe not a word of this to anyone."

  * * * *

  Slowly Meav opened her eyes. Sunshine from the small window divided the room, tiny powdery flakes gliding through the beam of light danced around her. She rubbed the sleep from her eyes, and blinked them into focus. Were the particles fragments of dust or tiny bugs? Nay, they were ... were ... miniature naked, winged women.

  Meav sat abruptly, the linen sheet falling to her waist. “Ah me, have I lost me mind?"

  One of the tiny fairies giggled lightly.

  Meav shook her head in disbelief. “Saints preserve us."

  "Preserve you, not me. I am perfectly fine,” the little imp answered, her large blue eyes twinkling with merriment.

  "Who ... what ... are you?” Meav stammered.

  "I am Gyla,” the little cherub offered, landing on Meav's knee.

  "And I am Titiana,” the other one chimed in, setting down upon Meav's other knee.

  Meav brought her hands to her forehead and squeezed her temples. “Lord have mercy on me soul, I have lost me mind."


  "Where have you lost it?” Titiana questioned.

  "We would be glad to help you look for it, if you could tell us when you last had it,” Gyla added.

  "I lost it the moment I woke up in this strange land,” Meav groaned. “Truth be told, me mind is a complete blank."

  "Then ‘twas gone long before you arrived here,” Gyla concluded.

  "How did I get here?” Meav asked, looking around.

  The tiny cottage was simple and clean. A stone fireplace stood to the far end of the room, an oak table, a small stool and two chairs beside it. A cupboard with a washbasin on it, along with various cooking implements occupied the opposite side of room. An apothecary chest rested against another wall, with several candles upon it. The small windows were framed with wooden shutters, opened slightly to bring in the afternoon's light. Wooden floors gleamed clean, the worn boards covered here and there by animal skin rugs.

  "And where is here?” Meav added.

  "Here is where you are,” Titiana beamed.

  "And where might here be?” Meav was becoming slightly annoyed.

  "You ask a lot of silly questions,” Titiana snapped.

  Meav frowned. “Perhaps ‘tis because you are not giving smart answers."

  Titiana stood with her hands on her hips. “My answers have been truthful, and you are a silly, stupid girl if you cannot understand them."

  "Quiet your tongue, Titiana,” Gyla warned.

  "I will not!” Titiana snapped.

  "Then you force me once again to make you do as you are told,” Gyla said, grabbing Titiana by the arm. She threw the impish fairie across her knee and began to spank her.

  "Stop!” Titiana cried. “I have done nothing wrong."

  "You have been rude,” Gyla retorted, continuing to redden Titiana's bare bottom, each slap harder than the last.

  Though Meav had not appreciated Titiana's attitude, Gyla seemed to be getting a wee bit carried away with administering the punishment.