Ginny Hartman (16 page)

Rosalind held a small basket in her hand as Gwendolyn bent to snip off some of the wooly leaves. It didn't take her long to cut off all they would need to make the tonic, and soon they were on their way back inside, hoping to avoid the rain that promised to fall from the gray sky above. Rosalind lifted the hem of her new yellow dress and picked up her pace to keep up with Gwendolyn. Though the girl was smaller than she, she seemed to rush wherever she was going, causing Rosalind to have to take bigger strides to keep up.

As soon as they entered the house, Millicent looked up from where she sat sewing yet another dress for Rosalind. “Dare I ask what the two of you are up to this day?”

“Gwendolyn is teaching me to make a horehound tonic,” Rosalind quipped excitedly.

Millicent smiled serenely. “I'm so glad that she is sharing her knowledge with you.”

“Aye, as am I.”

Gwendolyn rushed to the kitchen to retrieve some supplies. As soon as she was back she set a pot of water to boil above the fire. Gwendolyn and Rosalind sat on a fur before the fire as they both began tearing the horehound leaves into smaller pieces. It was a rare moment of quiet between the women, but Rosalind didn't mind. Her thoughts, as they often did, turned to Terric. She wondered if he was safe, if he had made any headway in finding the person behind her parents’ deaths and the attacks on King Cedric. She wondered if he would come to her when it was safe for her to return to Herfordshire Castle or if she would ever even see him again.

As soon as Gwendolyn had placed the shredded leaves into the water to simmer, she sat back on the fur and pulled her legs up beneath her. “Mother, tell Rosalind about the time that Terric consumed an entire bottle of horehound tonic.”

Millicent laid her sewing down in her lap and looked at Gwendolyn with squinted eyes. “Tis not the most flattering of tales. I'm not sure that we should taint Rosalind's opinion of Terric by sharing such a story.”

“Oh please mother, tis truly worth repeating. Consider it as educating her on the overuse of the herb.”

There was mirth in Millicent's eyes and she had Rosalind's full attention, as she always did when speaking of Terric. “Promise you won't tell him that I uttered this tale. I'm sure he would not be amused.”

“Aye, I promise,” Rosalind agreed.

“Very well. Terric was but a wee lad when he got into my herb chest.”

“Mother, he was ten and two years old, hardly a wee little lad.” Gwendolyn interjected.

“Gwendolyn there is no need for you to add details to the story. I'm the one telling the tale after all. Suffice it to say that he was young, too young to understand the ramifications of his actions. Apparently, he thought that my bottle of horehound tonic would make a tasty treat, and he decided to consume the entire thing.” Rosalind's eyes widened. “He replaced the empty bottle in the chest and never told anyone what he had done. To this day I'm still not quite sure what he was thinking. It wasn't until half a day later that he went missing. We searched all over the castle grounds, and finally Aeden found a letter he had left behind.”

“A letter?” Rosalind questioned.

“Aye,” Millicent continued. “It was a farewell letter addressed to us, proclaiming his love and bidding us goodbye.”

“I don't understand.”

“He thought he was going to die,” Gwendolyn blurted out, laughing at the memory.

“Consuming too much horehound can cause quite the...discomfort. When the cramps started, he was sure he was dying. We found him locked up in the garderobe, wailing in despair. Needless to say, he spent the remainder of the day in there exhausting the effects of the horehound tonic.”

Rosalind grabbed her side as she doubled over in laughter at the image. She could hardly mesh the strong, brave image of Terric in her mind with the image of him as a young boy seriously thinking his actions were the cause of his early death. Oh how she wished that he was there now, that she could see the look on his face as his family teased him about a memory in his past she was sure he didn't want repeated. In the midst of peals of laughter, she glanced up as tears clouded her vision and saw purple and blue wisps of color dancing in front of her face. Without thinking, she reached up to brush them away, completely disregarding Terric's admonition to never touch them again.

Her laughter instantly ceased as she felt herself being jolted from within, and before she knew what was happening, her eyes had cleared and she was standing in front of the door, her back turned towards Gwendolyn and Millicent as if she was about to leave. The room had gone silent and Rosalind held eerily still, apprehensive to turn around and face the onslaught of questions that was sure to come. She closed her eyes and cringed. Why had she been foolish enough to touch the wisps again? She dearly hoped that they wouldn't think her a witch.

As she was trying to muster up the courage to turn and face them, Millicent called out softly, “Rosalind, child, come here.”

Rosalind tried to decipher if there was any censure in her voice and, finding none, found the strength to turn and look at them. Millicent's face no longer held mirth but neither did it look alarmed. She kept her eyes trained on her as she walked sheepishly back to where she had just been sitting. She was more afraid to look at Gwendolyn, not sure she could handle seeing a look of disdain or repulsion on her new friends face.

“Rosalind, this is very important. I need you to tell me what just happened.”

Rosalind inhaled shakily. “I'm not exactly sure. It's only happened three times now and—“

Millicent cut her off, “This has happened more than once?”

“Aye,” Rosalind hung her head in embarrassment, no longer willing to look at Millicent either.

“Tell me about the other times,” Millicent urged.

“The first time was after Terric had informed me of my parent's deaths. I had collapsed on the ground, overcome with grief, when I saw translucent, flame-like wisps swirling before me. I had seen them before but that was the first time I had touched them. Before I knew it, I was kneeling at Terric's feet who had stood a ways off from where I was.” After a brief pause, she continued. “The second time I had been dreaming, and I saw the shimmering wisps again. I reached for them in my dream, and as soon as I touched them, I was once more transported, this time to Terric's side where he was sleeping on the floor of the inn we had stopped at. I wasn't sure how I got there. Maybe I went to him in my sleep.” She made herself stop talking, as her mind wandered back to what had happened directly after that event—the kiss she had shared with Terric. She kept her head downcast in hopes that his mother and sister wouldn't be able to read her thoughts.

“Mother, do you think...”

“Oh yes,” Millicent interrupted, “though I find it quite curious.”

Rosalind's head snapped up. “What do you mean?”

In her excitement, Gwendolyn went on her knees and grabbed Rosalind's arm excitedly, “You seem to be able to transport. It's a rare gift manifest in very few people. My grandfather had the gift, though it has never manifested itself in our family since then.”

Rosalind's head was spinning. “What do you mean he could transport?”

Millicent stood up and offered Rosalind a hand, helping her to stand as well. “Follow me,” she said as she turned and began walking. Rosalind followed her up the stairs to the minstrel's gallery where several busts where carved intricately into the corbels of the wooden ceiling above. Millicent stopped before a carving of an elderly man, his nose was large and straight and his lips were turned up into a silly grin. “This is Richard, my father. He also had the gift of transporting.”

“Aye, you mentioned that already, but what exactly does it mean,” Rosalind asked impatiently.

“It means he could travel from one location to another in the blink of an eye. A very curious gift to be sure, but it did come in handy on more than one occasion. Especially after he got used to how it all worked.”

“Are you meaning to say that this gift, as you call it, is something I can learn to control?”

“But of course,” Millicent confirmed. “My father learned to be so good at transporting that he rarely went anywhere without the use of his gift. My husband always joked that it was nothing more than the gift of laziness, but I think that secretly he was jealous.”

“But why would I be given this gift? What could it mean?”

“Honestly, I'm not sure. My understanding was that it was somehow passed down through bloodlines. My lineage is rich with people who could transport, though it seems to have gotten less and less common in the past several decades.”

“But nobody in my family has ever been able to do it, at least not according to my knowledge. Terric seemed to think that maybe I only had these episodes because I was hungry or tired.”

The mention of Terric made Millicent's eyebrows rise. “Odd that he didn't notice what was going on. Tell me, did you only have these episodes when Terric was around or had you experienced them at any other time?”

Rosalind thought back to each time she saw the translucent wisps and back to the other times she had actually transported. Each time it had occurred, Terric had been nearby. “Yes,” she finally answered slowly, unsure of what it meant. “Except for this time, of course.”

Millicent was thoughtful for a moment. “But we had been speaking of him and perhaps you were thinking of him as well?”

Rosalind felt silly admitting that she had indeed been thinking of him. She'd feel foolish if they knew just how much she thought of him. She nodded her head in answer to avoid speaking.

“What do you think it means, Mother?” Gwendolyn asked, just as curious as the rest of them.

“I think,” Millicent started slowly, “that sometimes when two people come together, magical things can happen.” Rosalind blushed at the thought of the magical things that happened whenever Terric had held her, had kissed her. “Terric holds the gene, but for some reason his presence makes the gift manifest in you. Very curious. Unless of course, you have transporters in your family line that you are not aware of.”

“I wish I had that gift,” Gwendolyn acknowledged with envy. “My only gift seems to be with healing, and it can't really be considered a gift when anyone can be taught the art. From now on, I'm no longer willing to teach you the healer's art. Tis hardly fair for you to possess two gifts.”

“Now Gwendolyn, there will be none of that. Tis true that anyone can learn the healer's art, but not everyone who possesses the knowledge also has the gift to heal. You have talents of your own and would do well to remember that.”

Gwendolyn harrumphed, but her pouting seemed more an act than genuine disgruntlement. Rosalind turned to her in an attempt to soothe her, “I would teach you how to transport if I could, but I hardly know how to do it myself.”

Gwendolyn's eyes widened with curiosity, “Mother, do you think that's possible? Tis something I could learn to do?”

Millicent was hesitant to answer, knowing what she had to say would not be what her daughter wanted to hear. “No dear, I do not. I used to beg my own father to teach me, and at times he tried, but it was to no avail. I think some people are born with that particular gift and others are not.”

“But you said that it's hereditary. Why then does Rosalind possess it and not I? I come from a long line of transporters, not her.”

“Aye, tis true that you do child, but Rosalind may as well.” Turning to Rosalind, Millicent asked, “Are you aware of any transporters in your family line?”

“Nay, not one. I had never even heard of such a gift until now. I suppose that doesn't mean that they did not exist, but I was never made aware of them if they did.”

“Not likely. I'm sure that if a royal family, such as yours, possessed it, they would be exceedingly glad and honored. I doubt it would have been kept a secret throughout the generations of time.”

Millicent seemed to be very well versed in the knowledge of transporters and, now that the initial shock and embarrassment had worn off, Rosalind was curious to know more. “Can you teach me how to use my gift?” She asked, hopefully.

“Aye, I can try. I can teach you what my father taught me, but I cannot guarantee it will work. You must remember that I am not a transporter myself and therefore I can only tell you what he told me. I have no personal experience with which to rely upon.”

Shaking her head excitedly, she said, “I can't wait to begin.”

Chapter 17

Practice

My sweet Rosalind,

It has now been nearly a week since I left you in the care of my mother and sister. I hope that they are treating you with kindness, especially Gwendolyn since I know she can be a handful at times. I am grateful to King Hadrian for offering your family protection, but I cannot say that I enjoy being in Peltis. I am not overly fond of Malton Castle or its inhabitants. It's dark and dreary here and people are not overly disposed to friendliness. I think of you often here, of how you once told me that you wished the sun shone more frequently in Darth and how it enlivened you. I had never thought about it much until you said that, but now I think I agree. I wasn't aware of how much the sunshine bolstered my own mood until I have been forced to live without it.

I must confess, however, that I don't think my dismal mood can be so much attributed to the lack of sunshine at Malton Castle as much as to your absence. In your presence I feel enlivened. I feel as if I am something more than I am, something better. I long to be in your presence once more and hope that fate will allow that to be.

King Cedric and his family are safe, as is Colin, though he does not like the added security he is forced to abide with very much at all. I hope that problems can be solved quickly so that he can go back to life as normal, that he can resume being a carefree lad. I suppose life will never truly return to normal for him, but hopefully, he can find some semblance of normalcy eventually, as I hope you can as well.

Terric

***

Gwendolyn finished plaiting Rosalind's hair as they sat cross legged on her bed. The sun was struggling to break through the gray clouds painted across the sky. Tiny shards of light peaked through the windows and both girls’ spirits were high. “Let's go out to the garden and work on making the wisps appear. Mayhap the sunshine will bring us some luck this day.”