The Island of Mists

by Wendy Nelson-Sinclair

  “I saw you bolt across the way just before the building came down. I tried to warn you that he was charging on you. My heart stopped when he grabbed you. I thought I was going to lose you again.” He kissed my neck just below my ear. He clung to me reassure us both that we were still alive and very much still together. “I need you to come with me.” He let me go just as quickly but kept hold of my hand.

  Ralf led me across the reduced battlefield. I glanced at the fire engulfed remains of the Abbey. A hard knot formed in my stomach seeing all the death and destruction.

  “Don’t look, Yvaine,” Ralf ran, half dragging me beside him. We headed towards the livestock stables. I was astonished that they had remained intact and had suffered no damage whatsoever. Ralf escorted me inside and deposited me into one of the stalls. The cow in the next stall was mooing loudly, crying out frantically. No doubt she was upset by all the commotion outside. “Stay here. My men have backed the others against the fire, and only a few survive. The others won’t hold out much longer, and I need to get back to my men. Stay put and don’t leave this building. If you do, I can’t protect you.” He demanded. “Don’t fight me on this, Yvaine. Please.” He saw the struggle on my face, but I accepted his orders willingly. The strength of my leg was gone, and the pain radiated up into my thigh. The numbness caused by the arrow’s damage left it weak when I put any pressure on it. For once in my life, I was more than happy to do as I was told. Ralf kissed me hard and left me sitting beside the milk cow who continued with her vocal protestations.

  Much time passed while I sat hidden in the stall, waiting for Ralf to return. It gave me time to think as the minutes ticked away. Ralf had said that those that attacked us were on the verge of defeat. Sitting in that damp hay, a realization struck me. It didn’t dawn on me until now that I had seen the attackers before. They were the same men that had attacked and destroyed the Island. The evil, murdering, heartless brutes that robbed me of my home and slaughtered my friends had come to strike fear once again. They were not human; they weren’t even beasts. They were the lowest form of life on this earth. Devoid of all humanity, they maimed their way into the Island’s sanctuary and destroyed centuries of work within minutes. I said a silent prayer that Ralf had brought men with him when he and Ranulf came. In my heart, I knew that all the farmers and townsfolk were here fighting as well. All of them came together to defend us. I was thankful for that because if they hadn’t been here, there was no guarantee that anyone would survive.

  A loud noise came from near the front of the stables. My body froze as it came again. The cow that stood next to me let out a thunderous, full-throated complaint as a shiver went down my back. I hissed at my bovine companion to be quiet lest we draw any unwanted attention. She answered me with a full-throated bellow. Footsteps crunched on the hay scattered across the floor. I froze. From my hiding spot, I could not see the entrance and sank down further into the corner where I remained concealed from view.

  “Mother?” Ranulf spoke through the animal noises. My eyes flooded with fresh, warm tears as he called out for me again.

  “I’m over here,” I answered. The pain in my knee was worse and it had swollen to three times its size. “I can’t walk, though. My knee—” I said again as I tried to get up and failed, the pain shooting up from my knee through my thigh.

  “Stay there, I’ll come to get you.” Ranulf ran to the stall and opened the gate. Gently, he picked me up. I hugged my son tightly as I thanked the Goddess that he was alive and unharmed. Ranulf carried me outside the stables and sat me down on the ground. Seeing how unsteady I was, he kept hold of my arm so I could steady myself against him.

  I looked at the battle-scarred landscape around me. Dead bodies were strewn everywhere while the ruins smoldered in the early light of dawn. A deep sadness echoed through my bones as I took in the fallen, including many sisters of the abbey. A sob escaped my throat as I discovered the body of Mother Adeline. My dear friend lay on her side, bloodied and battered, with a knife resting just inches from her lifeless fingers. Even at her advanced age, she hadn’t hesitated to answer the call to defend those trusted in her care. I swallowed a wail as I grieved. So many fine women had had their lives cut short. Women that I had come to see as my sisters. Women who taught me to respect the mother of their God, and to see the face of the Goddess within hers. Women who deserved to be alive today but had fought valiantly to protect each other. I continued to scan the grounds until I realized who it was that I was searching for. The deep fear of Gweneth being one of them hit me and I doubled over, losing my grip on Ranulf’s arm in the process.

  “She’s all right, Mother,” My perceptive boy assured me as if he could read my thoughts. “I got her out before the building came down. One of my men took her into the forest and hid her in a cave, along with some of the other postulants. We were lucky that we got to them just before the worst of the fighting broke out.” I wept against my sons’ side, relieved to hear his news about his sister.

  “Thank you,” I reached up and kissed his face. When he was a small boy, he scowled when I pecked his chubby, rosy cheeks or give him the dreaded ‘forehead’ kisses. Now that he was a man, he didn’t fight me, even though I knew he still didn’t like them. “Thank you for protecting her.” His arm soothing slipped around my shoulders. We stood together, waiting and watching until his father appeared in the foreground from behind the smoldering ruins. He caught sight of us and broke into a run. He quickly crossed the length of the field until he stood face to face with us.

  “I told you to stay where you were!” Ralf roared, anger and fear flooding his worried gray-blue eyes.

  “It’s all right, Father. I made sure it was safe before I carried her out.” Ranulf answered his father. Ranulf’s muscles tensed under my hands. Ranulf was a born protector, just like Ralf. He would never allow anyone, not even his own father, to ever disrespect or treat either his sister or me in any manner. At no time was that more apparent than now. “When the last of the men were captured, I came to get her. She’s been with me. I think you of all people would know that I would never put her in any danger.”

  “Yes, I know,” Ralf said in way of apology. “But how did you know where she was?” Ralf’s voice was still on edge, but now it was more relieved than angry.

  “I saw you hide her in there just as I was pulling that nun from the rubble.” Ranulf explained. Suddenly, I noticed the scorch mark on the arm of his tunic. The healer in me forgot all about my tears and began to examine the extent of the burn. Ranulf winced as I delicately probed a finger into the large, jagged-edged hole. Underneath, I felt the wetness of singed flesh and insisted that it needed immediate attention.

  “Yes, Mother,” Ranulf said in an off-handed way and resumed discussing what took place during the unexpected attack. Ralf’s anger cooled to a slow simmer as he processed what Ranulf said, all the while keeping his eyes trained directly on me. When Ranulf was through, Ralf asked him to retrieve the survivors and bring them back so that we could decide on what our next course of action would be.

  “I know that you had been in many battles before but Ralf…” I gazed at him in utter amazement. My giant, fierce warrior blushed under the gruff expression that he wore. Ralf drew me into his arms. His hand rested protectively on the back of my head as his soft breath rushed past my ear.

  “Let’s not speak of it now. There will be time for that later. There are other matters to deal with first.” Ralf asked if my leg was strong enough to support me back across fields. I lied and said yes but truthfully, I wasn’t so certain. I would do my best though because the last thing I wanted to do was appear weak or be a burden.

  As we approached the smoking ruins, we heard several people talking. Coming through the spot where the front arches had once stood, I saw two separate groups of people formed. One group was of Ralf’s men, all dirty and covered in layers of smoke, mud, and glistening sweat. The other was the small group nuns that had survived the attack. They were standing close to one an
other, crying on each other’s shoulders, trying to find comfort and consolation in the aftermath. They huddled in a circle, all bonded closely for surviving the great catastrophe that had befallen them. I quickly searched their faces, looking anxiously for the face of my daughter. None of the faces was hers. I looked at Ralf and gripped his arm, alarmed that I could not see her. Ranulf, who had been standing with the group of men, suddenly motioned for the women to move to the side. Kneeling on the ground, bandaging the leg of one of the wounded men, my daughter utilized the skills that were such a natural, powerful part of her. The intense feeling of pride that I felt in that moment could never be adequately described in words.

  “Gweneth,” I whispered her name as my vision blurred again. “Gweneth.” I started to walk towards her, but my knee gave out from under me. Ralf caught me before I hit the ground and escorted me across the distance.

  Gweneth had just finished tending her patient as I approached her. She turned her head, expecting another but found me instead. I took in her soot-covered face, and watched as her eyes, eyes so delicate and cat-like, widened with relief as she saw me.

  “Mama?” In one fluid motion, Gweneth was on her feet and buried within my arms. As she sobbed against me, all the fear and panic flooded away. “Mama.” She said several times, her voice thick from unspoken emotion. “I didn’t know where you were. I couldn’t find you!” Her hand rested upon the back of my head. “I thought you were dead.” She said shaking with joy.

  “It’s all right now,” I whispered that everything was going to be fine and told her just how proud I was. This was something that Reena never did for me. Not once did she ever give me praise but now that I knew the truth, any praise wasn’t hers to give. Instead, the only praise that I ever got growing up came from my true mothers, Leena and Eweln, and that was enough. Gweneth sniffled, still holding on as if she were afraid to let go. The moment was endearing, because those who knew my strong, determined girl knew that she was never comfortable showing any kind of emotion. For Gweneth to allow her fellow devotees and a gang of strange men to see her like this truly meant something special: It meant that my daughter had finally learned that to feel did not equal weakness. My heart and chest swelled. I patted her back more, kissed her cheek, and told her that I loved her many times over. It took a few moments for her to calm down enough to release herself from my embrace.

  “What are we going to do?” She sought my eyes. For the first time, I saw that Gweneth was at a loss. At any point in her life, my bright-eyed, brilliant daughter was always armed with a plan. A trait she shared with her father. To see her so lost and so disarmed was unsettling. I turned to Ralf who had been watching us with deep adoration.

  “Where is the closest monastery or abbey from here?” He asked our daughter gently. Gweneth stood at his side, a hairs width separated them. It rendered me temporarily speechless seeing them bond over what we had all survived.

  “There is one that is a little over a week’s walk from here,” She answered. “It’s the one where I took my vows. The place I went to before I was sent here.” She looked at me and then back to her father. That had been such a bone of contention between us so many years ago. When Gweneth had come to me and expressed her desire to become a nun, I acted badly and with ignorant judgement that wasn’t mine to give. I remember how bold she had been when she confessed that her heart belonged to Christ and she felt destined to serve him and spread his teachings. My disappointment, as well as my own experiences, was the root of my reaction. It had not gone over well; we had both known that we had found a way to agree to disagree. It seemed that it had taken a lifetime to get to where we were at now and I was grateful to have had the chance.

  “Good,” Ralf said as a strong breeze blew in, carrying the strong smell of the smoke with it. “Do you know if they will take us in?”

  “Yes. The new Abbot is a kind man. The brothers there will take us in until the buildings here can be rebuilt.”

  I shivered as the words died from her lips. The whisper of a sense that had lain dormant pulled at my ear and told me that this abbey would never be rebuilt. A vision of open fields covered with grazing sheep amongst scattered ruins appeared in my mind. An image that was so real that I could reach out and touch it. Nowhere in that vision did I see my daughter. Judging by what I had seen, I was certain that Gweneth’s place was somewhere else.

  “There is one matter that we have to deal with first,” Ranulf spoke up, grabbing everyone’s attention. “There’s the matter of the men that we’ve captured.” My head jerked in his direction. “We have them bound and situated just over there.” He pointed towards the section of the ruins where the kitchens had once stood. “I’ve placed several men to guard them until we decide what to do with them.”

  “Take me to them,” Ralf asked and Ranulf proceeded to lead the way. I had every intention of staying behind with the rest, but Ralf urged me to join him. “I don’t want you out of my sight just yet.” He spoke low enough so that only I could hear. Our son escorted us, while Ralf supported me as I crossed the short distance with them to where the prisoners were being held. As we turned to avoid a large pile of still-smoking rubble, I caught sight of a small group of men seated firmly on the ground. Their hands were bound behind their backs and their feet were tied together to prevent them from running away. Several of Ralf’s men flanked the prisoner’s sides as Ranulf moved to stand watch, his hand placed on his sword, ready for anything.

  “Here they are,” Our son gestured to those that were sitting. “The men tell me that this one here,” He pointed to the one in the middle. “Is the leader, and that he would like to talk with you.”

  From where I stood, I could see their soot-covered faces. Four of the men were dark-headed and tanned but the one in the middle, the one that claimed to be their leader, was pale-haired with fair skin. A shock of recognition rippled through me and I feared that I would lose control of my bowels.

  No! You’re supposed to be dead!

  My mind screamed and suddenly, I was sixteen again, back in the belly of the cave, fighting for my life. Cal. Cal was the leader of our attackers. I lurched forward, suddenly sure that I would be sick to my stomach. He looked the worse for wear, far different from when I had last seen him. Gone were the boyish good looks that made the girls flock to him. In their place was a rough, torn, scarred, grizzly, and emaciated man. Threadbare clothes hung loosely off his overly thin frame and the bones of his face threatened to cut through the skin while his chin was covered in a scraggly beard reminiscent of a male goat. The only thing that hadn’t changed was his soulless gleam in his eyes. I would have recognized it anywhere. I swallowed hard, eyeing him, waiting until to see if he’d recognize me. His exterior finally matched his interior. The thought passed through my mind as I tasted bile at the back of my throat, and I was certain that I would vomit.

  “Yvaine?” Ralf’s arm snaked around my waist as he sensed the change in me. “Yvaine, what’s the matter?” Cal’s head jerked in my direction and those bitter, cruel eyes widened with furious surprise.

  “Yvaine? You, fucking cunt! What the fuck are you doing here?” His eyes narrowed as he trained them on me. “You are supposed to be dead, you witch!” He seethed through his teeth and lunged for me, despite his restraints. One of Ralf’s men kicked him back into place and held the pointed tip of a knife to his throat to keep him from going after me. “I should have slit your throat when I had the chance. You are the cause of all this.” Cal hissed like a venomous serpent. “I was forced to leave the Island because of you. You ruined all my plans! You did it when you stabbed me in the back and blabbed to the rest of the people about what I had done. You were to keep your tongue silent, you whore! I was supposed to be named Hunter but that whore of a mother of yours saw to it that that simpering coward, Canwyn, was named instead! Your fucking family ruined years of hard work! Because of you, I had to live off scraps for years, homeless, forever wandering with nothing. But you and that bitch Reena kept it from me
! My mother always told me that it was my divine right to change the ways of the Island, but you took that away from me.” He spat on the ground at my feet, narrowly missing my shoes.

  “Your mother was crazy!” I shouted back, emboldened as I remembered a woman who died when I was seven, not the woman who had raised him. Cal’s birth mother was as insane and delusional as her son was. I recalled how the other villagers used to keep a wide berth from her. “How dare you blame me for what you did, you, soulless bastard!” The scream tore itself from my lungs. My chest heaved furiously and finally, I found myself in the moment that I had longed for. The chance to confront Cal face to face, a chance that I believed I could never have, had presented itself to me. “You murdered Canwyn! You and Tilme MURDERED my grandmother!” I lunged at him, but Ralf restrained me. “What you did to me was vile, disgusting and inhumane,” I shouted so loud that my throat was left scratchy and rough. “And I will see you pay for it!”

  “Shut up, whore! You wanted it as much as I wanted to give it to you. You got what you deserved.” Cal sardonic, sickening words caused ice to form in my veins.

  “You are a rapist and a murderer. The time has come for you to be held accountable for what you’ve done, and I will dance on your ashes when it’s all over!”

  “Didn’t I tell you to shut up, slut? Once I manage to get free from these restraints, I will do what I should have done years ago. I will have you one last time and then I will slice that pretty little throat from ear to ear.” Cal’s lip curled mockingly as he expected me to cower from his threat.

  Ranulf suddenly kicked Cal in the face, knocking him backward. “You watch your tongue, bastard! Do not speak to my mother unless you want your tongue cut out of your mouth!” Ranulf stood screaming over Cal and landed second kick straight to his abdomen. I sensed the anger and the hatred that radiated from Cal even as he laughed maniacally in the dirt. The primality of this moment left me quaking for revenge. Ranulf continued to kick Cal until Ralf ordered one of the men to stop our son before he went too far.