A Blink of an Eye

by Troy A Hill

  This looked easy. I grinned and followed along, hanging several balls of light around me. This was the first time I had been able to do anything with magic other than make something glow by shoving energy into it.

  “Very good, dearest,” Gwen sent. “This patch of the hill will soon be a beacon that can be seen for miles.”

  I poked each of my orbs to release the energy. “I’m happy I’ve found something magical I can do,” I replied.

  Gwen watched Seren closely. “How do you feel? Tired?”

  “Elated,” Seren said aloud. “I can feel the energy there, like you said, a waterfall ready to fill me like a bucket.”

  “Good. At this stage, you’ll tire easily,” Gwen said. “You’ll not only get more skilled as you practice, but you’ll extend how much energy you’re capable of channelling.”

  Seren nodded. But I doubted she had any notion of the depths Gwen suggested. I’d seen her spend herself to the edge of life itself. She lit another ball and hung it in the air, scrunching her brows. “They’re very pretty. But how will this help me in the war The Lady foretold?”

  “One never knows, dearest,” Gwen said. “A light in a dark place can be a great help. But we must keep exploring until we find your talents. Would you like to try tree walking?”

  “May I?” she said with enthusiasm. Then she wrapped her arms around her chest. “Dewi declared it the work of a devil. He said he’d walk the road from Nant Bywyd to Caer Penllyn a thousand times rather than take that trip again.” She chanced a smile at Gwen. “But I wish I’d been awake to experience it.”

  “Today, you shall.”

  Gwen directed Seren to place her hand against a tree, then laid her own hand on Seren’s.

  “Pull in some energy. I will guide and direct, but the magic will come from your connection.”

  Seren’s hand glowed. Her brow furrowed as she concentrated on what Gwen did with the energy. A moment later, she gasped as the bark melted and the red rip opened.

  We stepped into the dim and misty landscape and Gwen instructed her how to summon the raven that would guide us through the mists. Seren grinned as the bird appeared. At Gwen’s instruction, she closed her eyes and thought of where she wanted to go. She chose the grove of trees near her home. The raven cawed once and headed away. It drifted in the slight breeze that stirred the mists.

  “Nant Bywyd is a long walk, even through the Otherworld,” Gwen said. “You opened the slit and called the raven, so the magical burden will be yours. But I’ll help you if you tire.”

  By the time we reached the shadowy grove at the other end of our journey, Seren’s steps had slowed. Her shoulders drooped, and she almost stumbled.

  “You should be the one to open the portal. That closes your connection down, and you’ll recover faster.” Gwen instructed. “But I can lend you most of the energy.”

  Seren smiled weakly but held forth her hand. I could sense the magic flowing from Gwen, through Seren. The red seam appeared and spread, but slower than when Gwen opened it. I stepped through the rift. Seren took two wobbly steps out of the gateway with Gwen right behind her. I wrapped an arm around the girl’s waist and kept her upright. I guided her to a nearby tree stump and got her seated before I let go.

  “How many of these trips did you make when you tracked the beast through the borderlands?” she asked Gwen.

  “Several,” Gwen replied.

  Seren moaned. “I’ll stick to making balls of light, thank you.”

  Gwen smiled. “You did well. When I first learned the art, it took almost a week to open the rift wide enough to step through. A month passed before I had the energy to go very far.” She motioned around them. “We’re at Nant Bywyd.”

  “Who taught you tree walking?” Seren asked.

  “An old woman who kept finding me in the forest. Rather loathly in appearance, but very knowledgeable and patient. She found me every time I tried to channel magic and warned me when I attempted too much.”

  “Is she still alive?” Seren asked.

  “You saw my teacher last night,” Gwen said.

  “Oh!” Her eyes brightened as the full meaning sunk in. Gwen had been taught by the greatest of teachers—The Lady herself.

  “Ready for a walk yet?” Gwen asked and touched the nearest tree.

  Seren shut her eyes. “Must we?”

  “Perhaps more of a restful morning here,” Gwen said. “Let’s go find your in-laws, Einion and Dylis. They’ll want to hear about the Guilder’s trial. And we should be the ones to share the news of your new apprenticeship before your husband arrives. Einion has a more sensible head on his shoulders than his son.”

  “Must we tell them?” Seren asked. “What will they think?”

  “Yes, we must,” Gwen replied. “Otherwise Dewi will.”

  We pulled Seren to her feet and set out toward the fort. Gwen glanced at me as we walked. I had not bothered to pull my cloak over my sword, and instead let my left hand rest in its familiar spot on Soul’s pommel.

  “The townsfolk have seen you with a blade,” Gwen said. “You won’t draw too much attention.”

  “After my fight with Osbert yesterday, the Witch Hunters are well aware I know how to use it,” I said. “They’re the ones that worry me.”

  “Yes, dearest,” Gwen said. A smile lit her face. “As The Lady said, you are her warrioress. You would be naked without a weapon.”

  16

  Another Family

  Afon was the first to spot us as we approached the village. He fell in next to me, and we stayed behind Gwen and Seren on our way to the fort.

  Villagers stopped Seren along the way. They inquired about her injuries and how the trials had gone. She gave a very condensed version of the day, and left out details like who fought Osbert. Fortunately, none of them had been present to see how badly her finger had been mangled by the screws. None of them gave a thought to how well they looked now.

  Afon, however, asked me about Osbert. We stepped away from the others. I gave him a quiet explanation of how Osbert had called for a trial by combat.

  “The fool knew of Emlyn’s reputation. He should have been happy enough with his penalty.” Afon said.

  “The fool did not face Emlyn in the trial.”

  Afon’s head jerked toward me, his eyebrows raised high. He slowly smiled as he pieced together what I meant.

  “Osbert should have known. Live by the sword, die by the sword.” He grinned when he said it. Even Afon knew his penchant for the phrase had become a joke. “The Witch Hunters know you’ve got talent then. They seem like the kind that don’t like women to be trained in arms.”

  “Fortunately,” I said, “they are no longer welcome in Penllyn, Mechain nor Meirionnydd.” I said.

  “Good,” Afon said. “There’s not a man or woman here that wouldn’t be happy to chase them out of our lands after what they did to Lady Seren. At least, they all say that now. Quite a few tell us they’d been on the lookout to see if they could pick up an extra coin or two with a story for the Guilders. Lord Mechain told us to spread the word that the Guild wasn’t welcome, and any who helped them could beg for food and cloth from the guild.”

  Einion and Dylis waited for us on the keep’s porch, and, unlike their son, they were warm and friendly. Einion, though he usually came across as gruff, let his amiable side show through.

  He led us to a cluster of chairs by the hearth. These Cymry lords loved to sit by their fires. Britannia wasn’t the warmest place I had visited, even in the summer.

  We were careful to keep our voices from drifting. There were still extra folks about, unwilling to return to their villages while the dead might be walking.

  Einion grinned at Seren’s description of my combat with Osbert.

  “One less piece of filth to litter our land,” he said. “Unfortunately, he’ll have been buried somewhere in our side of Britannia.” He shrugged. “It’s probably too much to suppose they drug him back to Deira before they dug his hole?”

&nb
sp; “Emlyn had a patrol follow them,” Gwen said, “to make sure they made it across into the borderlands by nightfall. The guilders buried him there.”

  “Still, with the fluid nature of the borders,” Einion said, “that could be Penllyn territory soon.” Talk then shifted to filling them in on Seren’s new role.

  “My son is headstrong, especially about these old ways,” Einion said. “One of the monks we had tutor our sons was from Mercia, not Cymru. He’s filled Dewi's head with several notions from their church that I’ve tried to drive out of him.” Einion shook his head. “But, when there’s religion involved, what a parent says doesn’t carry much water.”

  “Uncle Heilyn talked with him some, but I’m not sure it helped,” Seren said, and kept her eyes on her lap. Dylis touched her arm, and gave her a warm smile.

  “He’ll come around dear,” she said. “Give him time. Lady Mair, you’re not eating. Here take my plate.” That was more than I had heard her say even at Cadoc’s wedding. I couldn’t refuse and took the food Dylis forced on me. Luckily, I spied Afon and the Penllyn guards across the room. They were headed outside to eat.

  “Care for more?” I asked once I had caught up. They sat around a table on the keep’s porch. “I've had my fill, but Lady Mechain insisted.”

  Afon took the offered food. “Let it never be said a man or woman went hungry when Lady Mechain was around.”

  “The men in village talked about how you stood with us on watch two nights ago,” one of the other guards said. “The local ones seemed sceptical that Lord Mechain had a woman walk guard alone, until we told them how you fought the beast that attack Lord Penllyn. That story drifted, and now everyone here has heard of Lord Penllyn’s swordswoman.”

  “I’m not sure I want that notoriety,” I said.

  But, before I could caution Afon, two Mechain guards joined us. “Penllyn’s swordswoman?” one guard asked with a grin, teasing.

  “I hope that reputation doesn’t come back to bite me,” I said.

  “If you and Emlyn ever tire of protecting Penllyn,” Afon grinned, “you could make coin with a sword show.”

  “I prefer a quieter life.”

  “Good luck with that,” Afon chuckled. “Life here has been anything but quiet since Lord Cadoc’s wedding. What you did to Osbert will get around. You’ve got a reputation whether you want it, or not.”

  “Osbert of Deira?” the other Mechain guards asked. “People said he might come out of the Northumbrian kingdoms to challenge Emlyn.”

  “How’d you best him?” one guard asked me. They all leaned in, waiting for the story. I wasn’t Lady Mair to them. Just like Afon said. I had a reputation now. I sighed. Afon winked at me, and nodded an invitation. I wasn’t going to get out of telling the tale.

  “He was their sword-captain,” I explained. “I expected skill. But, Osbert wanted to fight to prove he was better.” I shook my head. “That always ends badly. If you seek a reputation, you usually get one you don’t want.”

  “How good was he?” one guard pressed.

  “Good enough,” I said, and began the tale from the beginning, when Sawyl offered him his choice of weapons. The guards leaned in, settling into chairs backwards or propping boots on stools. They weren’t going to let me get away with a shortened retelling of the fight. I relented and shared details—how Osbert attacked me with two swords, how Emlyn passed me a second blade, how I finally forced the Witcher swordsman to his knees.

  “He refused twice to concede, and pressed to attack when I had the blades at his throat," I said. “He gave me no choice.”

  “He deserved it, scum!” one guard exclaimed, thumping the back of his chair. At a raised eyebrow from Afon, he became suddenly demure. “Beg pardon, milady. It ain’t my place to call judgments. That’s for lords and kings and such.” He stiffened his jaw. “But by the saints, I’m ready and eager to carry out such judgments as they hand down!”

  The men laughed.

  “I agree with you,” I said. “He deserved his death. No man that inflicts such pain on the innocent in the name all that’s Holy deserves to live.”

  The guards nodded.

  “Had he lived,” Afon pointed out, “the Guilders would have paid his fine and ransom. He would have gone free to inflict more pain and injustice.” He faced me and extended his arm, fighter to fighter. I grasped it in return. “You have come to the aid of Penllyn’s people yet again in the few weeks we’ve known you. I’ve said it before, and I will say it again: I will have your back any time you need it.”

  A Mechain guard was quick to rise and grip my arm as well. “Lady Seren is as much a daughter of Mechain now as Penllyn,” he said. “I, too, will have your back.”

  “I too, milady,” said another, holding forth his arm. One by one, they all stood and repeated the declaration.

  I didn’t want this reputation. Nor did I want to be the possible source of division between the teulu and their rightful leaders. But I could do nothing more than smile and accept their pledges.

  17

  A Flight

  Despite her rest at Nant Bywyd, Seren wasn’t interested in leading the tree walk again, so Gwen opened a slit and led us through the mists to The Lady’s lake. Dewi’s deadline hung over all our heads, and there was much for Seren to learn. As for me, when it came to using magic, I felt like a fifth leg on a mule. So while Gwen and Seren practiced opening slits in trees, I busied myself with routine chores. I gathered wood, set a fire to blaze, and filled a pitcher of water in the lake.

  The day stayed overcast, so I didn’t feel tired as I sat on the blanket by the logs, enjoying the view. A flock of small birds, black with white tufts on their throats, swooped and fluttered in pretty patters above the treetops. We were high in the mountains, and I was surprised that trees grew up here at all. However, this lake was sacred ground for the goddess, and her disciple Gwen travelled through the mists using trees as doorways. So I supposed the presence of the grove was required here. It would be a long walk up the mountains without them.

  The red rift opened again in a large oak and Seren and Gwen stepped through. Seren’s shoulders slumped and her face was slack as she stumbled to a seat next to me. I passed her a cup of water and a basket of berries I’d gathered.

  “Is it always this much work?” she asked.

  “You’ll adjust, and the burden won’t seem near as great in a year or two,” Gwen replied.

  “A year?” Seren said, her face clouded. “How will I fit in helping the goddess with all my other duties?” Seren sighed. “Dewi expects me to not only manage our brin, but to prepare to take over as Lady Mechain when he inherits his father’s title. He’s set a strict schedule for me to travel the cantref each summer.”

  “The Lady wouldn’t have selected you,” Gwen said, and laid a hand on Seren’s shoulder, “if you were not strong enough for the tasks ahead.”

  A screech caught our attention and we turned toward the flock of birds which had been drifting lazily over the lake. They now scattered in all directions as a hawk streaked into their midst. They darted, swooped, tried to regather, and broke up again as the hawk twisted and turned, following closely on the tail feathers of a small young bird. A flash of feathers, and the hawk grabbed its prey. The little bird let out a terrified squeak. Seren gasped and clasped her hands over her heart.

  The rest of the flock darted in to defend their companion. The hawk pushed hard once with his wings, seeking elevation and escape. But the darting and pecking of the smaller birds kept him from getting enough air to get ahead of them. The unfortunate bird in the talons struggled, but the raptor’s grip was tight.

  “Poor bird,” Seren said and stood to watch.

  I felt for the falcon. He just wanted a meal.

  The black birds dove and harassed the falcon as he wheeled through the air above the shore. Finally, he had enough and released his catch. With talons free, he defended himself from the flock, which gave him the space to get some air in his wings and push up and awa
y from them.

  “Come help me find that little bird!” Seren said and darted toward the lake.

  “I thought she was worn out?” I said.

  Gwen just shrugged and stood.

  By the time we caught up with Seren, she had the bird in her hands and was cooing softly to it.

  “Yes, I know,” she whispered. Then she looked up at Gwen. “He says his wing is hurt.”

  “You can understand bird?” I asked.

  Seren glanced up at me, a look of surprise on her face. “Well, yes, I can now… I mean… I never could before… He says he’s still frightened and can’t fly anymore.”

  The bird’s face peeked out from between her cupped hands. It chirped once. I couldn’t understand it. Evidently wolf-speech was my limit with animals.

  Seren looked at Gwen. “Teach me how to heal, please! Like The Lady healed me. He can’t fly,” she pleaded. “If I don’t help him, the falcon will return, or some fox will get him.”

  “Of course, dear one,” Gwen said. “Bring him back to our blankets and we’ll have another lesson.”

  We returned to my fire and Seren gently nestled her tiny patient in the woollen blankets. Gwen ran her hands over the bird’s body.

  “Some scratches, not too deep. And here, a broken bone in his wing. Hover your hand here, like so. Do you sense it?”

  Seren closed her eyes and concentrated. “Yes. How do I fix it?”

  “Healing is different from the other magic we’ve practiced. You’re not merely channelling energy—you’re drawing from your own life force.”

  Seren’s eyes opened wide.

  “That’s what healing is,” Gwen explained, “using some of our own life energy to enable the other to heal. Therefore, there is a limit to how much we can heal. We don’t lose the energy we offer up, but it gets tied in with the one we help. It takes a while for our own life energy to drift back to us.”

  Gwen touched Seren’s hand. The same hand that had been in the screws a few days before. “The Lady’s power augments the energy we put in, but the initial start has to come from us. Our life energy gives the spark to help restore and heal living flesh. That’s why I never tried to teach Mair to heal.”