Firebird

by Iris Gower

  He felt the pain and the darkness and the futility of his life fall over him like a shroud and then a drink was being forced between his cut and swollen lips. It tasted bitter but it soothed him almost at once.

  He heard his father’s voice, harsh, without pity. ‘The boy had it coming, I don’t suppose he even fought back. He’s a coward and he’s no son of mine.’

  Eynon began to drift, but this time the pain was receding. He was on a cloud being taken up to heaven where there was no longer any feeling.

  ‘Sweet God in heaven, what have they done to the boy?’ Lloyd had waited until he had seen Philip Morton-Edwards leave the house, he would ask no favours of his rival. Then several of the pottery workers had carried his chair upstairs so that he could see Eynon.

  ‘He’s still not regained consciousness.’ Celia-end-house had taken charge of the sickroom, hampered by the bossy Miss Fairwater, who insisted on attending Eynon. The girl had no more sense than she was born with, she fluttered around the room, her fan waving furiously before her patrician face.

  ‘Is he going to recover, do you think, Mr Savage?’

  ‘Don’t ask him, girl,’ Celia said impatiently. ‘Mr Savage don’t know any more about the sick than you do. I don’t know why you don’t go back to Mr Eynon’s house, I’m sure the old lady needs you there. In any case, you can’t do no good here.’

  Georgina sniffed but did not reply.

  ‘He looks terrible!’ Lloyd said. Eynon’s face was unrecognizable. His eyes were closed, his mouth swollen so much that his lips had turned over on themselves, revealing a gap where his tooth had been.

  ‘I’ve put witch-hazel on his body, poor boy. Skinny, he is, like a youngling. Needs caring for, he does, bless him.’

  ‘I would have cared for him, if you would have allowed me to,’ the pale Miss Fairwater said, pouting her full lips.

  Lloyd shook his head. ‘The boy’s taken the beating of a lifetime. Saw men in better condition than this when they’d been hit by cannon fire. Looks like the lad might die.’

  ‘No. I won’t let him die,’ Celia said doggedly. ‘I will do my best for him, you can be sure.’

  Lloyd leaned over the bed and tried to see in Eynon’s battered face the boy who had laughed with him in the tavern a week ago. He felt anger surge through him.

  ‘I’ll get the bastards if it’s the last thing I ever do,’ he said. ‘Call the servants to take me back downstairs. I’ll get home to my own house, I can’t do anything here. But I’ll find whoever has done this and I’ll kill him with my own hands.’

  ‘Better still if you used that musket you keeps locked up there,’ Celia said evenly. ‘And I can tell you exactly who the bastards are, if you’ll pardon my language.’

  Lloyd looked at her for a long moment and then, slowly, he nodded. ‘You are a sensible woman, Celia. It’s about time I cleaned up that old gun of mine.’

  He took one last look at the figure in the bed and doubted that. Eynon would live long enough to know that he had been avenged. He sighed heavily. If only he had his legs, how he would enjoy hounding the men who had attacked Eynon. Well, if he could not go to them, he would just have to find a way to make them come to him.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  It was her wedding day. Llinos woke to the sound of the birds and knew it was still early morning. Over the other side of the lodge Mint slept, one arm thrown across her face, her long hair spreading over her face. She was still a beautiful woman with a look of Joe about her and Llinos felt a constriction in her throat. Mint had been so kind, she had welcomed Llinos as her daughter with all the dignity and warmth of her nation.

  As though aware of being observed, Mint opened her eyes and immediately she was wide awake. She rose and stoked the brazier with fresh logs, sending sparks flying across the lodge in all directions.

  ‘The fire burns brightly, it’s a good sign.’ She looked at Llinos. ‘We’ll wash in the river before anyone else is awake.’

  She smiled like a mischievous child and Llinos felt herself responding. Mint was a wonderful person, she combined the spontaneity of a child with the wisdom of the ages.

  ‘Mint, am I doing the right thing?’ she asked and her voice sounded small.

  Mint squatted on the floor before her, pulling a covering over her shoulders. ‘Let’s think about it. You love Joe?’

  Llinos nodded. ‘Yes.’

  ‘There is no doubt?’

  ‘No doubt at all.’

  ‘Then why are you worried?’

  ‘My father would not consent under any circumstances to this marriage.’ Llinos looked down at her hands; they were trembling. ‘I am still a child in his eyes.’

  ‘But you are a woman enough to want Joe’s love – in all ways?’

  Llinos met Mint’s eyes. ‘Yes.’

  ‘Come to the river, talk to the Great Spirit as you wash away your old life. Then you must decide.’

  Llinos followed Mint to the edge of the water and as she slipped into the coolness she felt the sun on her face and the softness of the breeze and knew that, beautiful as it was, the country of Joe’s birth was foreign to her.

  She floated on her back in the diamond glow of the water and her thoughts rippled like the river through her mind. She would like to marry Joe here in his native land if only to please his mother but before the marriage was consummated, the ceremony must be repeated in a church back home. Only then would she feel she and Joe truly belonged to each other.

  Llinos washed the dust from her hair and, with a sense of freedom, dived beneath the crystal water. Her decision had been made. When she emerged from the river, she was refreshed, her mind clear.

  ‘I must talk to Joe,’ she said as Mint walked up the bank towards her, hair streaming with water, diamonds of moisture on her golden skin.

  ‘You will be my son’s wife today before his people but it will be a marriage of spirit only.’ It was not a question. Llinos put her arms around Mint. She was taller than Mint by several inches.

  ‘I will ask Joe to marry me in church. I want him to come home with me. Do you mind very much that I’ll be taking him away from all this?’ She looked up at the mountains, at the sparkling river and breathed the fragrant air that was so different from the stink and smoke of Swansea.

  Swansea had its ugly face and yet there was an ache inside her for all she knew, all she had left behind. However dark and dirty her town, it was her home and she must return to it.

  ‘My son is a man. He straddles two worlds, the world of the Indian and the world of the white man. Speak your thoughts to him and he will go with you, back to the cold and the rain and the confines of a land that is small beyond my imagining.’

  ‘I’m sorry if I am a disappointment to you, Mint.’ Llinos shivered a little. Her skin had dried in the breeze and quickly she began to dress.

  ‘I knew you would want to go home but I will see you married in the custom of my people first, that will be joy enough for now.’

  Llinos smiled. ‘I pray that Joe will be willing to wait until after the church service before we . . .’

  ‘I understand. You will not feel properly married without the gold ring and the bells and the man of God saying words to you, it is only natural.’

  Mint slipped her arm into the crook of Llinos’s elbow. ‘I will ask the spirits to speak to your father. Perhaps, after all, he will favour your union with Joe.’

  Llinos doubted it. ‘Perhaps.’

  The village was awake, fires were lit within the stockade and the aroma of roasting meat permeated the air. Mint moved away. ‘I’ve things to do, much to arrange.’

  As Llinos walked towards the lodge she saw that Binnie was sitting on a log, watching the women kneeling before the fires baking the pots. He glanced up and rose to his feet, waving his hand to Llinos.

  ‘Your hair is wet,’ he said, smiling, and Llinos shook her head sending a spray of water over him.

  ‘So it is. You are observant this morning.’

  ‘An
d you are in a good mood. Llinos.’ He was suddenly serious. ‘This marriage, you know it will not be legally binding, not back home. Do you think you are doing the right thing?’

  ‘Don’t worry, Binnie. I mean to have a proper ceremony in a church later on.’

  ‘So you will go through with the marriage, here, will you?’

  ‘I see no harm in it.’

  ‘I hope you are being fair to Joe.’

  ‘Oh, Binnie, don’t be such a misery! You know Joe as well as I do, I wouldn’t do anything to hurt him. Where is he?’

  Binnie shrugged. ‘I haven’t seen him this morning. Perhaps there are rituals, you know, paint, all that sort of stuff.’ Binnie’s voice betrayed his scorn for all things foreign. Llinos smiled.

  ‘Aye, I expect we’ll have a witch doctor make a human sacrifice or at least kill a pig or something before we tie the knot.’

  ‘Don’t make fun,’ Binnie said. ‘You don’t know what heathen ways these people may have.’

  ‘Well, I can’t stop here talking to you all day, Binnie Dundee. It’s my wedding day.’

  In the warmth of the lodge, Llinos rubbed the river water from her hair. The drying curls felt soft and were scented with the perfume of the grasses from the river bank. Joe’s country was beautiful but it was not home and never would be.

  The day passed slowly. Of Joe there was no sign but great preparations were taking place outside in the village clearing. Skins had been spread on the ground and wide, glossy leaves held the feast of fish and meat.

  Baskets of bread and fruit were set out along with jugs of amber liquid. Drums were beating softly, insistently, and Llinos began to feel apprehensive. Binnie was right, the ways of the Indian people were foreign to her. What was she doing here taking part in some heathen ceremony?

  Mint slipped silently into the lodge. ‘I have come to help you dress for your wedding, daughter.’ She had plaited her long hair and was wearing a band of bright beads of turquoise and black around her forehead.

  ‘Mint, I’m afraid. I haven’t seen Joe, where is he, why doesn’t he come and talk to me?’

  ‘It is not the custom, Firebird. You too have the custom where the man does not see the maid before the ceremony, is that not the way of it?’

  ‘Yes, but I need to talk to Joe, to explain that we must wait until . . .’ Her voice trailed away as Mint put a cool finger over her lips.

  ‘You talk to Joe later, when you are alone in the lodge. Then you will be tied together for ever and no-one will set you apart.’

  Llinos allowed Mint to dress her in the garments of an Indian maiden. Her hair was plaited and coloured feathers woven into it. A belt of polished stones was hung at her waist and ornaments around her neck.

  The sound of drums echoed through the lodge and voices rose and fell with an easy, soothing rhythm. As Llinos was led into the clearing, she felt as though she had walked into a dream world.

  Joe stood before her, magnificent in a feathered headdress. He was bare to the waist and his firm, golden body had been painted with strange symbols. He seemed remote, a stranger.

  He smiled and he was her Joe again. She stood next to him. Tall as she’d become, she still reached only to just below his shoulder.

  He took her hand. The ceremony had begun, now there was no turning back.

  Maura placed the bowl on the table before drawing back the heavy curtains. She heard a groan from the bed and turned in concern to see Eynon trying to sit up.

  ‘No, don’t, you have some broken bones and the doctor said you must keep still. It was bad enough you insisted on coming home so don’t go being difficult on me now, will you?’

  He sank back onto the stained pillows and Maura saw that his nose had been bleeding again. Whoever had given him a beating had been ruthlessly thorough.

  She began to bathe his face with warm water and he squinted up at her through his swollen eyes. ‘Am I ever going to feel better, Maura? It’s been almost a month since . . . since the accident.’

  And a lifetime since Binnie had walked out on her. Maura bit her lip. He had left her flat as if the wedding had never taken place, how he must hate her. It had been something of a blessing when she had taken over from Celia-end-house; caring for Mr Eynon had taken her mind off her own problems.

  ‘You’re getting better every day. Sure, you’re young and strong, you’ll mend well enough.’ In spite of her cheerful words, she had reservations about his progress.

  Eynon was weak. He still bore the bruises on his face and his broken nose had set crookedly. His ribs were slow to heal but it was the breaking of the big bone in his thigh that was causing the most trouble. Eynon had not been able to walk since the night of the beating. He was in constant pain, though he bore it gallantly.

  Maura, who had harboured a sneaking impatience with Eynon’s foppishness, now found herself with a new respect for him. He never complained and she rarely saw him low in spirits. She half smiled, they were two outcasts together, he despised as weak by the men of the town and she a scorned woman.

  ‘I think I’ll try to come downstairs for a while today.’ Eynon’s voice startled her. ‘It’s a little cold but the sun is shining and it’s about time I faced the world again. You know, the only people I’ve seen these past weeks are Father Martin and you.’ He caught her hand.

  ‘I don’t say much but I do appreciate all you’ve done for me. You’ve stayed with me in spite of everything.’

  ‘Sure it works both ways, Mr Eynon. You’ve been good to me and the baby. I don’t know what I would have done without you since Binnie walked out on me.’

  ‘He’s a foolish man but he will come to his senses one day, you’ll see.’

  ‘Maybe so, maybe not. And if he does, shall I want him?’ She moved briskly round the room. ‘Now, let’s see if we can get help to bring you downstairs, shall we?’

  Later, as Maura put her daughter down for her afternoon nap, she paused to peer into the garden. Eynon was stretched on a chair with a footstool to support his legs. He was covered in several shawls against the chill. He looked over his book and caught her eye and smiled.

  The creak of wheels on the lane attracted her attention and she moved nearer to the window. Down below, she could see Captain Savage with one of his men who was pushing the chair towards the gate.

  She admired the captain. He had got his own back on the men responsible for the beating by luring them into the market place with false promises of work. And then, in front of everyone in the place, he had scared the life out of them by firing shot at their feet. How folks had laughed when the captain had made the men dance. One of the men had cried for mercy, blaming Philip Morton-Edwards for the attack on Eynon. But no-one gave credence to the words of such a scoundrel. No-one except Maura.

  ‘Come in, Lloyd, any news of Llinos?’ Eynon’s voice rose clearly to where Maura was standing.

  Llinos. The very name brought the bright colour to Maura’s cheeks. It was all Llinos’s fault that Binnie had deserted his wife and child. She opened the window wider, aware that she was eavesdropping, but she could not help herself.

  ‘Not a word from her, can you believe it?’ Lloyd Savage spoke harshly. ‘Well, I’ve washed my hands of her, Llinos is no longer my daughter.’

  ‘You don’t mean it, Lloyd,’ Eynon said, but the captain was in no mood to listen.

  ‘She’s made her bed and she can lie on it. The gossips are saying she’s run off with Binnie Dundee.’

  ‘She hasn’t run off with Binnie,’ Eynon said, ‘she’s gone to find Joe.’

  ‘You know that and I know that but to the towns-folk it looks like a wonderful scandal. In any case, if she comes home with the half-breed her name will be dragged further into the mud.’

  ‘Don’t be so hard on her, Lloyd.’ Eynon spoke gently. ‘She is young and impulsive. She’s in love but she won’t do anything improper, I understand Llinos well enough to know that much.’

  ‘Aye, perhaps you’re right but it doesn’t help ma
tters, does it? She could be murdered out there in that foreign country for all we know.’

  ‘The Americans are very much like us,’ Eynon said placatingly. ‘Many of them are descended from English stock.’

  ‘Aye but then there’s the native American Indians. When I was in the war I heard tales about them that would make your blood run cold.’

  There was silence for a moment and then Eynon spoke. ‘How’s the sale of earthenware these days?’

  ‘Very good,’ Lloyd replied. ‘I’m selling my products on a regular basis while your father’s men waste their time trying to make porcelain that won’t shatter in the ovens.’

  ‘Ah, but the porcelain that survives the firing brings in a great deal of money, at least that’s what my dear father claims.’

  ‘I’d prefer a steady profit and a regular market,’ Lloyd said. ‘What about you, what are your plans for the future? Have you got any?’

  ‘I’m going to recover my strength before I do anything,’ Eynon said. ‘I think Georgina has marriage in mind’ – Maura heard Eynon chuckle – ‘and that’s where it will stay, in her mind!’

  ‘Well, I don’t know why you don’t give it some serious thought, you can’t spend the rest of your life pining for my daughter.’

  ‘I know. But I love her, Lloyd, and while she’s free there’s hope.’ Quietly, Maura closed the window and stood for a moment looking down at her sleeping daughter.

  ‘Your father may have been led astray by Llinos Savage, my lovely.’ She spoke bitterly. ‘She is the devil in disguise, trapping all the men who come her way but your mammy will get her own back, one day, you’ll see.’

  It was quiet in the lodge. Llinos had been undressed, and flowers strewn over the bed she would share with Joe. She sat upright, staring into the brazier, trying to draw comfort from the brightness of the flames.

  The plains had never seemed more alien to her than they did now. The strange sounds of creatures in the foliage and the low thud of the drums emphasized the fact that she was far from home.