REALM'S END (BOOK OF FEY 1) (3 page)

Magic

           
With hands red and chapped Gwenth tamped down the last of the fire under the wash kettle. It had taken all day to finish the wash and with only the two cold biscuits to tide her over, she had grown tired. Slaving over the hot wash pot alone, had eventually worn through her false bravado, but with the fair wind she’d been rewarded with several loads of clean, sweet smelling laundry.  She stopped just long enough to bend over, trying to stretch out her aching back muscles. Scooping up the folded clothing, she made her way slowly up the hill, and across the rough yard toward the cottage.

Gwenth was too tired to even turn and look out to sea, as she made her way through the failing light to the dark stone building. She stopped only long enough to leave the wash paddle leaning against the wall of the house.  The branch, she had found yesterday, that been the cause of the fight with her step-mother, stood glinting oddly in the dark shadow of the house. Exhausted as she was, she gathered the branch from where it stood under the deep eave and hauled it along toward the cottage door.  Gwenth pushed the door open and stepped in leaning the branch against the table’s edge and then laid the last of the folded laundry on the table.  She walked slowly over to the hearth. Her dad would be coming in for supper soon and the fire looked well out. Gwenth bent over the ashes and laid her hand against the cool dry peat. Feeling a tiny bit of warmth deep within, she forced her aching body to kneel down on the hard wooden floor. Gwenth pushed the damp red tangle of hair back from her face as she raked her sore fingers through the peat to expose the warm embers.  Dusting the peat from her hands, she reached into her skirt pocket and pulled out a bit of lambs’ wool, she carried to use as fire starter. Laying it directly on the tiny warm embers she began to blow gently. It wasn’t long before she realized the wet work of the day had penetrated even her dry wool pocket and Gwenth had to blow and blow, to get the wadding to catch fire. Before it caught fire, a light-headedness stole over her and small bright spots of color danced before her eyes.

     Finally the fire caught. Gwenth stayed kneeling there before the fire, exhausted from the work and the lack of any real meal, the bright spots continued as she watched the peat catch and smoke as it burned. At last, the warmth began ever so slowly to creep back into her limbs till she felt able to move. Crawling on her hands and knees across the worn wooden floor she made her way to the nearest chair where she sat back on the floor, and rested her back against its heavy wooden frame. Gwenth closed her eyes, her breath quickly deepened. Sleep stole, like a lead coverlet over the young woman and she fell into a dream.

Her head was cocked, she could make out the sound of water slapping against a shoreline but she was blind, unable to see, caught in a thick swirling mist. She strained to see, willing the mist to rise, while in the distance she saw trees looming up out of the mist. Gwenth stared for the trees seemed to be moving, as if they were in fact walking.

The scene suddenly changed
. Now Gwenth was running hard and fast, looking off to her left and right. She felt a dreadful sense of fear rising up so that even the hair on her neck stood up….

         Outside the cottage Meredith felt the crackle of magic, even before she reached the cottage door. Using her magic she eased the door open and quietly slipped into the room. The branch stood abandoned, leaning against the table. A glow emanated from it. Meredith leaned in; she could just make out what looked like a pattern of marks, appearing along the shaft of the limb. A sharp crack rang out and the old branch suddenly took on the look of something fresh and green. Small leaf buds began to pop out along its length.

In the dim light Meredith could see the girl sat sleeping before the fire, her head resting low against her chest.  Quickly considering both scenarios, Meredith decided the best course of action was to stop it now. Meredith knew she was in no position to protect the girl if the spell continued unabated. It was clearly too soon, Gwenth wasn’t yet ready to cross over. If the spell was left unchecked James, Gwenth’s father would come stumbling in any moment wanting his supper and instead find his daughter caught up in a magical spell. Of course then he would try to wake the girl. Meredith was able to imagine any number of problems that might arise if that happened. No, it was better if Meredith woke Gwenth now while she still had at least a foothold in this world. She hated to do this to the girl, it would rile Gwenth even more against her, especially now that she had come to terms with her true feelings regarding her readymade human family, but there seemed to be no other way. The girl would never openly accept Meredith’s help. In fact, Meredith was fairly certain Gwenth might rather enjoy sending Meredith to the gallows for witchcraft. Meredith sighed; she resigned herself then to the efforts that would have to be taken on this girl’s behalf. Turning back to the door she flicked her fingers. In response to her magical cue, the door opened silently and then flung itself shut. The thick slab of wood slammed hard into its fitted wooden jamb. Meredith heard the creak of hinges popping loose followed by a loud crack as the jamb broke from the force of her magic.

     Loud as a thunderbolt, the sound had the hoped-for consequence. It broke the spell and brought Gwenth awake with a start. She jumped to her feet. “What, where, ah…,” her voice trailed off as she realized that she’d been dreaming, and that she was really standing safely in front of her own hearth.

     “Sure, sleeping when your dad will be home with no warm food waiting for his tired working self! Girl you are a beggar if I ever saw one. You would probably sleep all day and let others fend for you forever if you were left to your own ways,” Meredith spat the exaggerated words at the girl.

     Gwenth hung her head at Meredith’s venomous words. For once, she felt Meredith was right; a real woman would have done the wash and prepared a meal without complaint or falling asleep. “I… I’m sorry,” she hesitantly whispered.

     Meredith, who had clung tightly to the idea of breaking the girl’s spirit ever since she had arrived here, realized she felt no joy in watching Gwenth discomfort. “Oh for God’s sake go to your room and take this damned stick with you,” she said, pushing the stick into the girl’s hand.  “Why you would bring such a thing under our roof is a question I won’t be asking you to answer.  I do think, though, you will go without your dinner, maybe it will help you to understand the weight and value of a woman’s work,” Meredith said. She turned away to hang her cape on one of the wall hooks. She hoped the girl would go quickly, for she would need magic to make any meal in the few moments before James arrived, tired and hungry. Though she tried to use her magic sparingly in this world she sensed she would use it more than once tonight.

     Gwenth turned and walked silently to her room. Though it wasn’t common for a croft house to have so many rooms, she was glad her father had long ago built a wall across the bedroom to give his daughter a room of her own. She shut the door and flung herself down onto her pallet with its uncovered straw. The room was completely dark but that was fine by her, she didn’t want any light right now. Shame welled up hot within her heart and the tears spilled down her wind burned cheeks. She knew it was her fault that her father would have no decent meal tonight, and that knowledge alone was enough to keep the tears flowing. She lay, softly crying, in the dark cool room, but the shame was no match for her exhaustion. Tired as she was Gwenth’s breath slowed and she was carried off to sleep with the stick still in her hand.

Hurrying

                Meredith waited to a count of five after Gwenth closed her door before she turned away and magically repaired the broken door. In a flurry of activity, she magically plucked a hunk of uncooked lamb from the ether, and seared it with a spell, as it flew across the room and descended, landing on a great platter. Reaching within her mind, the potatoes, small red fingerlings began jumping from the basket where they had previously lain inert, and roasted themselves. Their tiny skins popped open, allowing the steam to escape as they flew through the air to lie still once more, next to the juicy meat. Then greens arrived falling singly one by one from the air, like strings of hot fragrant manna into the red clay serving bowl. The bowl and its contents flew through the air and landed squarely on the table that had already laid itself out for the coming meal. Meredith hurriedly leaned in, sitting the platter of meat and potatoes down on the table as James lifted the latch and pushed the door open to step in. Meredith waived her hand and froze time for just an instant as she ran lightly across the room to check on Gwenth. Using her magic she opened the door letting it swing silently in upon its hinges. Gwenth lay already asleep on her pallet; her hand still loosely wrapped around the softly glowing branch.

     Slipping back across the room to the place she had occupied when James had opened the door she took a breath and released time with a twitch of her fingers. She smiled at him as he turned to hang his hat and thick wool coat on an empty wall hook.

      James turned toward the woman he had come to love, and took a deep breath. She would never be his sweet Aubrey, but Meredith was an amazing woman in her own right. They had come together when he let it be known in the village that he needed a woman’s help around the croft. It had been an easy transition to wife for them both, only Gwenth had shown any resistance, and both he and Meredith understood the child’s fears. He loved the way she smelled fresh like the wind and he often found himself looking up from his work, hoping he would see her coming across the heather, her face breaking into a smile as he came into view. James reached out and pulled Meredith close, gently folding her into his arms, “Umm, that smells good woman and so do you,” he whispered into her hair.

     Meredith, feeling as if a stone had been lifted off her shoulders, with her sisters’ blessings, let herself truly enjoy James’ kiss. He was a genuinely good and kind man. Meredith felt her heart growing warm, as she savored the feeling of his strong arms about her waist, enjoying the way he held her. “Hmm, I’m glad you’re home. The moor is cold today. I made a roast to warm you,” she said, the smile on her face obvious in her voice.

     “Aye, it smells heavenly. Now we could eat, if the lass were only here. Where is she” he asked? James reached for the kettle of warm water and stepped to the dry sink to wash off the sheep muck.

     “It will be just the two of us tonight. Gwenth’s asleep already,” Meredith said, moving to bring the jug of spring water to the table.

     “Well, that’s not like her to miss a meal,” he laughed, as he dried his hands. He turned and pulled out a chair for his new wife and waited for her to be seated. “I can say however, I do relish the idea of being alone with you. It seems as if love is a new thing all over for me and I long to sit and listen to your voice more than any other thing.” James pulled out another of the hand built chairs and sat down with his back to the fire where he could clearly see Meredith’s face.

     Meredith felt the color rising in her cheeks. Never in the world of crow had she experienced this sensation. Crows mated for children, or for prestige, if there was any title to be carried forward, but passion like this didn’t enter into their mating relationships. Loyalty, yes, but passion, no; she doubted passion ever came into a crow’s mind. Meredith’s whole body seemed to be infused with the warmth of love. Her rational crow side naturally had fought against it, but here in this human form the woman in her hungered to be near this man who caused such a reaction in her body. “Darling let’s eat and then maybe we can build a fire in the bedroom fireplace tonight,” she said, cutting the roast.

     James reached across the table and gently removed the fork from Meredith’s hand, laying the utensil down on the plate.  “I can eat meat anytime but I swear you bewitch me woman,” he said, leaning across the food filled table to hungrily kiss her mouth.

     Meredith closed her eyes and felt his sweet warm breath closing in on her, tenderly their lips touched. She felt James’ day old whiskers scrape teasingly against her cheek as his warm mouth closed more firmly over her own.  Her desire, her passion rose up, and for the first time ever, she gave herself completely over to it. She felt free enough at last to admit to herself that she longed to lose herself deep in the hunger she felt for this man.

    Until now, Meredith had only allowed herself human love as a kind of guilty pleasure. She had seen her desire for James as a shameful thing and had continually withheld from herself the true freedom loved offered. So it was at last with a deep easy pleasure that she let James draw her into their dark sleeping quarters, as his mouth sought out her own ever more urgently. She let James wrestle her sweater from over her blouse, but when he began to pull roughly at the skirt, Meredith laughed and pushed him away. Pulling the clothes off, she finger cast a tiny spell of light, so that he could see and enjoy her nakedness. Letting the clothes fall to the floor Meredith stepped fully naked toward James. She was proud of her body whether crow or human. She knew James admired her supple figure. Her breasts, with their pert nipples, lay firm and close to her ribs. Her legs were long and slender and well-muscled from climbing the hills around the cottage. Her eyes flashed with desire as she drew him close and began unbuttoning his shirt. Her hands pulled the shirt from the tight waistband of his pants and pushed it back away from his broad shoulders. She felt a thrill run through her as she ran her eyes over the width and breadth of his deep muscled chest. Meredith leaned forward and ran her tongue teasingly over his bare skin. His body was strong from working the croft and though he had a few scars, it always amazed her how his skin felt like luxurious silk under her roving hands. She filled her lungs with the musky smell of him. She heard him groan.

      Leaning down James wrapped his arms easily about Meredith’s waist and lifted her into his arms. His hunger was like a fever. He let himself revel in the pleasure of her kiss. He loved the way she enchanted him with her mouth and tongue. The way her lips played along the edge of his mouth, teasing him before giving him her mouth fully. He felt a delicious shiver run the length of his spine and found himself searching out Meredith’s lips, savoring the growing pleasure. It was clear he gave her great pleasure and he loved nothing more than to do so. He carried Meredith the few steps to the bed and laid her gently down. He couldn’t exactly remember where the bed had come from, but right now he felt it was the greatest of treasures. To have a sturdy built bed to lay ones wife back on, was something few crofters even dreamt of. He kissed her mouth playfully letting his full lips pull and nibble at her own. His mouth glided lightly over her skin, as his tongue skimmed along an imaginary line from her throat to her breasts. His wet tongue slowly circled her hardened nipples, and he felt the goose flesh rising under his ministrations. His hands followed his eyes as they roamed the length of her body, making their way upward to his wife’s face. Meredith’s head was thrown back, her beautiful throat exposed to his eyes. Where did this kind of pleasure come from? The idea of seeing Meredith stretched out in front of him, her lean belly, and firm breasts lying high above her waist, and the absolute sexiness of her throat laying exposed to him, he groaned inwardly at the view. He could see that Meredith was responding to his roaming hands and mouth and she was taking great pleasure in their love making.

     Meredith lay back on the covers; her desire warming her throughout her body, as if a fire was consuming her inside. She did not care, she loved this man though she had been afraid to admit it earlier, but now during sex there was no way she could deny her passion. She wanted only to lose herself to allow herself the pleasure of rubbing like an animal in heat against him. She wanted his strong arms about her, pulling her to him, fitting himself against her, hip to hip, breast to chest, to feel the length of her strong husband meeting her here in the confines of their bed. Suddenly she felt the weight of him as he laid his body over her own and she found herself groaning into his mouth. “Yes.”

     James looked down into Meredith’s face, and saw her love and desire playing out across her features, and knew deep within himself, her emotions were for no other than him. He kissed her tenderly then, as he reached behind her and drew her body up to meet his.    

She suddenly felt his passion ringing hot against the bell of her body, her own voice cried out in the night, as she pressed herself against him, letting the pleasure wash over her.

     Later as they lay cradled in one another’s arms, James gently pulled himself away from Meredith and stood up. “Now, you bewitching woman, you stay right here, while I build us a fire and fetch supper. I’m fairly starved now,” he said, huskily. James leaned down and drew a kiss from her, before turning from the bed.

     Meredith lay watching James as he brought in a fag from the main fireplace and set it to the tinder. Her desire stirred up once again; as she watched him bend down to blow the embers into a flame. I might be a witch, but he is the one who has bewitched me, she thought. She watched his rock hard body flex as he worked at bringing the fire to life. She could see his dark locks falling softly away from his shoulders, and his shadow loomed up large against the mantel. Meredith let her head rest back against the wool stuffed pillow and closing her eyes she listened to the sea waves pounding against the great cliff. She was able to pick out the quieter sound of James as he moved about the cottage.

     The sleeping chamber door opened and James stepped in with a long tapered lit candle, sending its light deep into the darker corners. “Till the fire picks up I thought a bit of light would be welcome.” James sat the candle down on the bedside table, “for the eating of course,” he said, grinning from ear to ear as he hurried from the room. He returned shortly, balancing a plate of food and a clay jar of cider. “A wee bit of cider tonight I don’t suppose would hurt us,” he said, shutting the door behind himself, with a well-placed kick of his bare foot.

     Meredith pulled back the covers and reached out taking the plate of food he handed her. She always enjoyed watching him parade around naked, his sparse chest hair a mix of black and grey gleaming against his sun burnt skin. She was sure there would have been much more naked parading about if they had been a young married couple without a half grown child underfoot. “Well give me a drink husband,” she said smiling. “I’m fairly parched from doing my wifely duty,” Meredith teased.

James’ laughter rang out in the quiet room. “Duty, woman that was surely way past any duty, you might call it, that was what could only be called your pleasure.” He bowed low, teasingly, before he settled himself in the bed next to her. “I checked on Gwenth. The lass is still sleeping, and I’m glad of it. I don’t mind saying, earlier, I felt the fear on me that she might walk in on us,” he laughed. “You know, a thought like that can ruin a man if it comes at the wrong time,” he said, taking a piece of the roasted lamb and popping it into his mouth, and licked his fingers clean of the meat’s juices. “She has a blasted stick in bed with her. I swear it almost looked as if it was glowing when I peeked in. Sometimes I wonder about that girl,” he said smiling at his wife.

     “Don’t worry so, she is finding her way to adulthood. I do have to admit to you love, Gwenth and I had another row today. Something’s changed though, I’m usually beside myself about it all but I’m feeling more optimistic. I believe it will eventually sort itself out.” Meredith leaned over and reached across James bare chest to pick up the jar of cider from where it stood on the bedside table.

     “I worry about that, you know. What if she never accepts you,” he said, his voice turning thick with emotion.

     Meredith swallowed the heady cider and considered James’ fear. Her intuition told her that it all would somehow be ok. She’d at last recognized the underlying truth that her sisters pointed out to her. She finally knew to the depths of her soul that accepting the love she had for this mortal was somehow part of the key that would free them all. “No it’s going to be ok. She’s just been hurt as any child would be. As time goes on she will come to grips with the love we share.”

     “Hmm, if you say so, wife of mine.” His eyes twinkled, as he reached out for more of the meat. “God the meat seems so good tonight, why is that? Did you make it differently?”

     “No, no, same as always, maybe it’s just your hunger giving it flavor.” Meredith laughed, as she reached under the covers and stroked his muscled thigh.

“Here now,” he hollered in surprise. “Aren’t you too tired for that?”

“Aye, if the truth be told, I am.” Meredith leaned in to kiss him, his lips slick with meat juices, “I find though I can’t ever quite get enough of you, either.”

     They finished the rest of the meal in silence, each caught up in the privacy of their own thoughts. When they were done eating, James set the plate down on the floor, and blowing out the candle he pulled Meredith into his arms. “Aye, I feel the same way myself,” he said, kissing her deeply. “Let’s just lie here and watch the fire. You could tell me about when you were a wee lass, maybe it will help me with Gwenth somehow. Girls are so much more difficult than boys I think. With a boy you just cuff his ear and go on. Girls are so blasted emotional.”