The Island of Mists

by Wendy Nelson-Sinclair

  “See, you sometimes it pays to listen to your mother,” I gazed affectionately at Gweneth. My daughter, the quiet, shy little girl that reminded me so much of myself, had grown into a confident, intelligent woman who just saved her mother’s life twice. There are no words to adequately describe how thankful I was for her.

  “Thank you, Mama,” Gweneth said and quickly turned her head but not before I caught a glimpse of glistening tears. “You are going to need your rest. Once I’ve deemed that you’re strong enough, we’re leaving.” Gweneth explained. It was her way of confirming that the Abbey we both called home had been rendered beyond repair. “You too, Father,” She redirected her attention on Ralf. “You’ve barely slept, and I can see that you are exhausted. Go and lay down. I’ll watch over Mother.”

  Ralf had sat quiet until that point. He immediately protested against our daughter’s orders, but I quickly put a stop to that. Weakly, I raised my hand and gently touched his face. “Gwennie is right. You need to sleep. You’re no good to us if you fall sick from exhaustion.” Without any complaint, Ralf pressed his lips to mine. He whispered his love for me several times before he reluctantly sought out the comfort of his bed. Gweneth and I remained in companionable silence until we heard the softness of his snores and saw the slow rise and fall of his chest.

  “He’s been near impossible waiting for you to wake up,” Gweneth said, keeping her voice low just in case he woke up.

  “I saw it in his face,” I replied. “He wouldn’t have lasted much longer before collapsing.” Gweneth and I shared a knowing glance. Never one to sit still, Gweneth grabbed a flannel cloth and filled a bowl with water. The sound of the fire crackling and popping nearby was soothing but I noticed something else as well. “Where are all the others?” I asked, knowing that Gweneth, Ralf, or even Ranulf would have urged them all to come here for safety.”

  “Some of Father’s men have taken my sister nuns to the monastery.” She said as I caught a whiff of something roasting over the fire. The rich smell of vegetable stew hit my nostrils and sent my stomach rumbling. “Sister Aethyln and Father agreed it would be safer for the nuns to go straight there. The men should be back in a few days’ time.”

  “Aethyln survived?” I received the news joyously. Somehow, during the worst moments of battle, I knew that she’d survive. Aethyln had a grit that few possessed. She’d turned her anger into sheer will. Her past mistakes were proof that she would do anything to get what she wanted. In this case, what she wanted was to survive.

  “What about you? When do you go there?” I asked, knowing my daughter's heart and how her life was about worshipping the God that she wholly believed in. Gweneth didn’t answer right away. Instead, she held her tongue as I watched her think. “Gweneth?” I said again, suddenly curious at her silence.

  “I’m leaving the Church,” Gweneth’s sudden announcement shocked me greatly. “I’ve decided that I’ve had enough of convent life.”

  “Gweneth, are you sure?” I asked, curious as to what provoked the change in her plans. “Once I’m healed, I won’t need you there to look after me. Being part of the Church is what you’ve always wanted. It’s a part of who you are.” I lightly touched her shoulder. She clasped my hand in hers as she prepared to tell me what her mind was set upon.

  “I found purpose as a nun,” She announced proudly. “I have loved moments of it, but I do not feel the call anymore.” Her admission was startling. This young, headstrong, stubborn girl had once fought so fiercely, so passionately about taking vows. Now as a grown woman, she laid out her reasons for wanting to leave. “I want to be a healer, Mother. That was never clearer than when I was tending to the wounded after attack. I have been contemplating my decision for a while now but when that savage nearly killed you, I knew it was time. God gave me the ability to save your life. It is his voice that is urging me towards another path. My work will always be stagnated by someone’s authority over me. There is an entire world out there in need of my care. A world of Christians and non-Christians that will benefit once I’ve freed myself from the limitations placed upon me by my vows.” Gweneth’s impassioned announcement moved me beyond words. The first few years she spent away were rough and harsh. Even though she never spoke it in words, I knew that the life she expected was far different from the one she found. My stand-offish daughter had become an independent woman. A woman who could not only see her limitations but who saw the barriers and see the way past them.

  “Gweneth, are you absolutely sure that this is what you want?” I wanted her to be sure before she made such a rash decision.

  “I have thought about it every day for the past year,” She sat beside me but kept possession of my hand. “Even though Mother Adeline game me a lot of freedom, there is nothing to guarantee that the next one will do the same. The Church will always demand to come first, but I can no longer give it what it wants. The sick and the dying come first, before anything. I’ve come to see that my God-given talents are my prayer. God gave them to me to honor him. I do not believe that God is wrathful or vengeful, like some of the priests would have us believe. From where I stand, I see a peaceful, benevolent being whose greatest gift is the ability to for ourselves and for others. I know the other nuns would be shocked to hear this, but I think sin is a man-made concept. It’s a form of control over the populace, a way to gain money, and to perpetuate the corruption that I’ve seen during my time in this institution. I want to go back to a simpler place. A place where I can work freely and reach as many people as I can.” She paused and drew in a long, quick breath. “Father and I talked this over last night while you were sleeping. I’ve decided that I want to go back to the Island. I want to help rebuild it and establish a practice there. A practice open to everyone.”

  The power of her pronouncement left my body buzzing. During my second year at the Abbey, I began to dream of going back home. Even though the pull was strong, I swallowed it down as several questions swirled through my mind.

  What waited for us there? Would we have to rebuild from the ground up? Was there anything left to build from? Were there survivors and would they trust us? Or did the attack leave them fearful of outsiders, even if those outsiders were once a part of them?

  All my hasty thoughts left me anxious and afraid to return. For the first time in my life, the fear of the unknown kept me rooted in place. The thought of making the journey only to be turned away was too much for me to bear. Those reasons were why it never crossed my lips and why I never made it known to anyone, especially Gweneth. Hearing her speak with such conviction and enthusiasm was like a pair of snips severing the roots that bound me here. The freedom it brought was infectious and even though my body wasn’t ready for the trip, my eager soul was.

  “Going back won’t be easy,” I said, remembering how rough the journey was.

  “We can use the main roads this time, Mama,” Gweneth said self-assured and hopeful. “Some of Father’s men have said that they want to join us. Their presence will help deter anyone that means us harm.” She smiled down at me with her eager eyes all aglow. “The main roads also cut the journey time in half. Ranulf knows the way. He’s said that he’s used them more than once when traveling from here to there. There’s no reason to fear. Father, Ranulf, and the men will be with us. We’ll reach the Island safely.”

  After assuring me that the trip ahead wasn’t as arduous as I remembered, Gweneth left to catch some fresh air. Leaving me to rest, she headed outside and within minutes, I heard her speaking to someone with a low, deep voice just beyond the mouth of the cave. Focusing on the crackling sounds of the fire, I tried to relax but my thoughts raced like swifts gliding through the meadows leading to the Porthfoist town gate. As much as I wanted to go back, I still had reservations. The questions that I carried within me resurfaced with a vengeance. As I lay quietly, eyes closed as I mulled over each one until I realized that fear was my only obstacle. When I first left the Island, fear didn’t keep me from seeking out a new life for myself. Nor di
d I let fear keep me away when I returned pregnant and a far cry from the young, naive girl that I once was. Carrying the echoes of the Maiden and the Mother within me, I swore that I wouldn’t let fear hold me back. Once I was recovered enough, my family and I were headed home. What we would find once we got there wasn’t important. What mattered was that our family was finally whole and that we would make the journey together.

  TWENTY-ONE

  “The Island is just on the other side of the woods,” I told Ralf as I walked slowly behind him. The rest of the party, able to move faster than I could, was just ahead, moments away from the clearing.

  “Ranulf told me that there was once a thick veil blocking the way.”

  “There was,” I said, seeing it just as I had on the day when I learned to raise and lower it. “It was so thick that it was impossible to see through it. When I fled the Island, the veil was gone. Cal must have known how to manipulate the veil or had someone from inside do it for him. That’s the only way that he and his raiders were able to get inside.” I said flatly. The thought of Cal made the spot where he stabbed me ache. Sucking in a hiss, I pressed my hand against the still-healing wound to ease the pain.

  “God will see to it that he’s held accountable for what he’s done,” Ralf stopped and reached out for me. Pulling me close, he leaned down and kissed me lightly. Pulling his face back, he traced my jawline with his fingertips. “Every time I think of how close I came to losing you…” His voice trailed off. Ralf closed his eyes as if to chase away the thought of my death. “I just thank God that Gweneth was there. If she hadn’t, I don’t want to think about what would have happened…”

  “It’s all right,” I reached up and caressed his chin. “I’m here and I won’t leave you again.” I promised as he placed a second, brief kiss upon my lips. “Not even death can keep me from you.” I vowed as we stood there silently, forehead to forehead, each one grateful that we were still together.

  Our quiet was short-lived. Ranulf came bounding up to us, his eyes lit with happiness. His body popped and buzzed like a tree struck by lightning. He stopped just before us, barely able to contain his excitement.

  “Mother! Father!” Ranulf panted as he tried to catch his breath. “You have to come see! You won’t believe it!” Ranulf added excitedly before he bounded back. Glancing down at me, Ralf’s arm went around my waist. He lifted me off my feet in one fluid swoop and carried me out into the clearing. In the distance, I could see the rest of our party waiting for us. Just beyond them, was something that I did not expect. My vision blurred as I took in the dense, heavy veil of white, shimmering mist that cloaked the Island once again. I asked Ralf to set me down. Once my feet were firmly on the ground, I moved steadily and came to an abrupt stop. A myriad of emotions swirled through me as I took in the hazy blanket that once again hid the Island from view. When I fled the last time, I was positive that the misty barrier was gone for good. That the toll of death and destruction had sent it running, never to show its face again. Relief washed over me as I beheld it now. Several of Ralf’s men questioned how we would get inside. Before I could say anything, Gweneth urged them to be quiet and simply watch.

  “Mother can raise the veil,” She whispered. I glanced back at her, unaware that she knew of my ability.

  “She can,” Ranulf echoed his sister. “Aunt Leena told us that she was a natural.”

  Forcing the grin from off my mouth, I sighed steadily. No one said a word as I raised my hand. Just as my grandmother taught me, I recited the incantations, the spells that would unravel the veil, furling it upwards to allow us entry. The words came from my lips like a well-kept memory. My voice ebbed and flowed as I cultivated its rhythm. Within moments of my recital, came the first sound of an oar striking against a wooden surface. I gasped with surprise and joy. The Goddess was still with the Island. The Island’s spirit and its people remained, triumphantly flaunting that nothing would destroy it. A boatman slowly came to view. As the boat drew closer, I squinted into the distance. The man navigating wasn’t one of the Islands boatmen. The ones who had been the masters of these waters for centuries. The man at the helm looked familiar yet I couldn’t place him. I watched quizzically as he reached the shore and exited the vessel. He cast a glance across the entirety of our band and broke out into a wide grin as soon as our eyes met.

  “Aunt Yvaine? Is that you?” The young man stepped forward and took my hands in his. I peered closely, examining his face, and within seconds, I saw a familiarity that was undeniable.

  “Desten!” I wrapped my arms around my nephew and held him close to me. “Oh my, what a handsome young man you’ve become.” I drew back to get a better look at the towheaded man before me. Desten, Ravene’s son, was colored like his father, but it was a masculine version of his mother’s face peering back at me. Looking into eyes that resembled hers and seeing a mouth that was a perfect copy, I tried not to fall apart as my sister gazed out at me through her son.

  “Aunt Yvaine,” His happy melodic voice was a mirror of his father’s. “You’ve come home to us.” Tears rolled down my face as I told my nephew that yes, I had come back home to stay.

  “But how is it that you are here?” I asked, surprised and elated that he was here to greet us. “You, Ravene and her family all left with Dennen the summer after Gweneth left for the convent. How is it that you’re all back?” I asked, curious at their return.

  “Both Father and Runa’s husband died of the putrid fever,” Desten explained with a heaviness that weighed down upon him like a stone. My heart dropped hearing that Bastyn, Runa’s beloved husband, a good and kindly man, was gone.

  “What about her baby?” The little girl that Runa gave birth to. The one I held in my arms after being delivered, and who would now be ten instantly came to my mind. I could see her raven-topped head in my memory and suddenly, I feared for her life.

  “Meara is well. She is here, with her mother and me. Runa’s son is with us, too. He was born two months after his father died. With them gone, Runa and I decided that coming home would be the safest place to raise the children. We had no idea that it had been attacked.”

  “I am sorry that both Dennen and Bastyn are gone. They were good men.” I said regretfully. “Your mother would be delighted that you decided to return. And I am so happy that yours was the first face that I got to see.” Remembering that I wasn’t alone, I introduced him to his cousins once more, watching as he took turns embracing both Ranulf and Gweneth. Next, I introduced him to the rest of the men. The ones that had had enough of warfare and were ready to put down roots. Finally, I brought Ralf forward to meet my sister’s son. This was the closest that she would come in knowing the man that I loved, yet I knew that somewhere beyond the mortal coil, she watched with joy.

  “This is Ralf. My husband and your uncle,” Ralf stepped forward and offered his arm to the younger man. Desten looked at the outstretched limb with confusion. Seeing the lack of understanding, Ranulf stepped forward and showed him how men of Ralf’s people greeted one another. Grasping each other’s arm at the elbow and letting their forearms rest against the other’s, they shook hands like kin. Desten caught on quickly and Ralf clapped his other hand down upon their connection and shook it once. “He’s also the father of my children.” I announced proudly. Desten’s surprised eyes widened as the realization hit him. When Desten and Ranulf were young boys, they couldn’t get enough of the Norse tales of Ralf’s homeland, and the story of his life. Desten, lost for words, stared open-mouthed for a beat before quickly recovering.

  “I am honored to meet you, Uncle,” Desten greeted the older man enthusiastically. Desten’s good spirit and enthusiasm were so much like his father’s before Ravene died. Ravene had unknowingly taken the light from his life when she died, leaving Dennen a hollow shell. I sent a quick prayer up to the Goddess that Desten hadn’t lost his gentleness. The same that his father once possessed. Ravene could have handled Dennen’s deterioration, but her sons would have leveled her to the ground. M
y chest swelled seeing that Desten possessed his mother’s strength, her tenacity, and her determination.

  I watched joyously as the rest of the men made their greetings before my nephew turned his attention back to me. “Come, let me take you to the Main Island. “Your home still awaits you.” Desten gestured towards the boat that could only accommodate half of us at a time. We quickly decided the order of how we would cross over. Ralf and I would go over with half of the men while Gweneth, Ranulf and those that remained would follow in the second wave. Our group boarded, followed by Desten who grabbed an oar and began to paddle us across the distance to the other side. One of the men offered to help but Desten politely refused, saying that the offer was most gracious but unfortunately, there was only one paddle.

  “Did any of the boatmen survive the attack?” I asked from where I sat, my arm dangling over the side and fingers trailing along the surface of the water.

  “Most were killed defending the Island. After all, they were the first line of defense but since they lacked decent weapons and training, they didn’t stand a chance against the mongrels that attacked us.” Desten’s voice was calm. “When Runa and I came back, we waited for almost a day, combing the shoreline until we found an abandoned boat. I rowed us over and we met the few survivors who told us what had happened. With the boatmen now gone, we come and go as we please. Many of us do not even need to raise the veil. At times it’s still thick, but most of the time one can simply just walk right through it. Its magic wanes with each passing day.” The loss of the boatmen left an ache in my heart. An ache for the one that had first helped me after my rape and took me home. The same one who carried me to the shores when I had decided to leave. “You will find that a lot has changed and that we are progressing more and more each day. Most of the houses were burned and the rest were torn down shortly after we came back. We have a builder now. He’s a pagan that sought refuge here. He built the houses that all of us live in. Decent houses. Not just clay and straw dwellings with shuttered windows. He just put a new, stronger door on the High Priestess’ Quarters to keep out the driving winds and the onslaught of rain.” His voice held optimism that I admit, I wish I had but didn’t. “Brawyn is learning to be a blacksmith.”