Rhapsody, Child of Blood (4 page)

Gwydion thought back to his vision, the pasturelands burned and desolate. He had seen the willow then, blackened and dead, and he shuddered involuntarily at the memory. He turned back to Emily. She was walking around the tree, her hand resting on the branches above her, speaking to it softly in a language he didn't understand.

When she came back around to him she smiled. "So, now that you've seen it, what would you like to do next? Do you want to go back?"

'Not yet," he said, returning her smile. "Do you know anything about the stars?"

'Yes; why?"

'Will you teach me?"

'If you'd like." She started to sit on the ground under the tree, but he stopped her.

He loosed the drawstring of his cloak from around his neck and spread it out on the ground for her.

Her grin of approval made him shiver. "Sam?"

'Yes?"

'Would it bother you if I took off my dress?"

Gwydion felt all the blood drain from his face. A moment later, he was painfully aware of the place to which it had decided to run. Before he could speak she interrupted him, embarrassment in her voice.

'I'm sorry; I should have been more specific. I mean this part." She touched the blue velvet overdress awkwardly. "I assure you, I am quite modestly attired beneath it.

It's just that this is my only fancy dress, and if I spoil it, it will break my mother's heart.

Would you mind?"

Many answers ran through Gwydion's head, and the corresponding expressions all passed over his face in an instant.

'No," he said.

Emily turned her back and walked over to the tree again. He watched her unlace the bodice of the velvet overdress and slide it over her shoulders; it was off before he had a chance to realize that his blatant stare was rude. She stepped out of it and hung it carefully over a tree branch, then turned to face him once more. She now wore a sleeveless gown of white lace. The modesty piece he had seen before was part of the bodice, and the crinoline was long and full, like the skirt of a summer dress.

She sat down on his cloak, and he took his place beside her. "What do you want to know about the stars?" she asked, looking up into the night sky. Her hair hung down over her shoulders, and it was all Gwydion could do to keep his hands off it.

'Anything. Everything. I don't recognize any of them, so whatever you can tell me would be a help. The stars are different where I come from." It seemed a simple, factual statement to him, but Emily's face shone with wonder at the thought. She settled back on the ground, stretching out with her head resting against the green moss that slanted up against the base of the willow tree.

'Well, first and foremost, that's Seren, the star that the Island is named for. Most nights in the spring and summer it is directly overhead at midnight."

Gwydion settled down beside her. He stretched out his arm behind her, trying to avoid touching her too soon. As she had several other times that night, she read his mind and took hold of his arm, pulling it around behind her shoulders. The movement didn't even stop the astronomy lesson she was imparting.

She continued to point out stars and constellations, telling him a little of the lore and whatever history she knew. She seemed to have an impressive background in it, some of which was navigational. Gwydion made note of that odd fact, but after a moment he was no longer watching the heavens, as she was, but had relocated his gaze to her face. It was glowing with its own celestial light, and he felt he was learning far more by watching the stars in her eyes than by looking into the sky. He rolled onto his side and bent his arm behind his head, grinning like an idiot.

After a long time Emily looked up, as if awakening, and saw the silly look on his face. She blushed in embarrassment and sat up quickly.

'I'm sorry. I didn't mean to blather on."

'You weren't," he said hastily. "I was listening very carefully." He held his arm out straight. "Tell me some more."

She lay back down again, staring straight up at the sky. This time her face was solemn, and she said nothing for a moment. When she finally spoke her voice contained a note of sadness.

'You know, ever since I can remember I have dreamed about this place," she said softly. "Until recently I had the same dream almost every night—I was out here in the dark, under the stars, holding out my hands to them. And in my dream the stars would fall from the sky and into my hands, and I could hold them fast; I would make a fist, and see them glimmer in between my fingers. Then I would wake up, and when I did, I always had an extraordinary feeling of happiness that would last through the morning at least.

'And then my dream changed. I think it was when I was officially entered in the marriage lottery. I was eligible for it last year, but my father said it was too soon. This year it was unavoidable, and, despite my wishes, and theirs, my parents gave in to tradition and town practice and put me in like a horse on the auction block. My whole life is changing now, and my dream changed with it. Now, it comes much less frequently, and when it does it's not the same."

'How is it different?" His voice was sympathetic.

'Well, the beginning is similar. I'm here in the pasture, in the dark, and the stars are just as intensely bright as before, but when they fall into my hands they fall right through them; I can't hold on to them, and they tumble into the stream instead. I find myself looking down into the water, and the stars are lying there at the bottom of the stream, shining up at me."

Gwydion felt the sadness in her voice seep into his heart. "Do you have any idea what it means, if anything?"

'Yes, I think so," Emily replied. "I think I finally came to understand that all the things I had dreamed of seeing, and of doing, are not going to come to pass. That instead of seeing the world, and going off to study, and all the other marvelous adventures I had hoped to have when I was young, what actually will be my fate is what all my friends dream about-marrying someone of my father's choice, settling down and raising a family here in the valley. In a way, I had hoped to do that, too, eventually; I love this land, and I could be happy here. But—I thought—" Her words slowed and she fell silent.

'Thought what?"

'I thought there was going to be more for me. I know that's selfish and childish, but I had hoped that I would one day see the things and places that come to me in my dreams.

'I think the change reflects my acceptance that this is never going to happen. That in a few days I will give up those silly hopes. I'll marry someone chosen from the lottery who, with any luck, will be kind to me, or at least not cruel, as some farm men are, and I will live and die here, never setting foot outside the valley. I guess I have known al along that would be the case. The dreams come even less frequently now. Soon I expect they will stop all together, and then I will forget them and get on with my life."

Her words made his stomach turn. "No."

'No?"

Once again the pragmatism descended, and the answer was inordinately clear to him. Gwydion sat up, cross-legged, and pulled her up with him. "Emily, what are the courting customs here? What protocol do I follow to avoid the lottery and ask your father directly for your hand?"

Emily's eyes sparkled, then almost immediately darkened again. "Oh, Sam," she said sadly. "He'll never let me go with you. He has saved for my dowry since I was a baby, kept these middle pasturelands for it, just to assure that whoever I married kept me here in the bosom of the family. He'd never consent to you taking me away."

Gwydion felt as if he would vomit. He couldn't explain to her in words the urgency to get away from this place. "Then will you come anyway, Emily? Will you run away with me?"

She looked down at her hands. His throat tightened and his shoulders began to tremble as he waited for the answer. Finally she looked up, and the expression in her eyes was direct.

'Yes," she said simply. "It would be a real waste of a wish not to, don't you think?"

Relief broke over him like a spray of cold water. "Yes; yes I do." He pulled her into a tight embrace, resting his hot cheek on hers. "Is there someone who can marry us in this village?"

Emily sighed in his arms. "There will be in a few days, after the lottery. Everyone will be marrying then."

Gwydion pulled her even closer. He had no idea how long they could delay leaving, but the risk would be worth it. He resolved to wait, and not frighten her unnecessarily.

'Sam?"

He released her reluctantly, and sat back, looking at her with new eyes. When the sun had risen that morning, he had been totally free, and utterly alone; his life was that of other boys his age, with little thought of the Future, and little belief in it.

And now he was looking at his wife. He had always wondered what the other half of his soul looked like, and was delighted, and humbled, to see it was so incredible; he was actually amazed to know he even had one. The prospect of living by her side for the rest of his life filled him with a heady, if terrifying, feeling. In years to come, as he mourned her death over the endlessly passing days of his lifetime, he would think back to this moment and remember the way she had looked when he first saw her with his new eyes, eyes that still believed that life held a great measure of love for him.

'Yes?"

'Do you think we might see the ocean? Someday, I mean."

At that moment he would have truthfully promised her anything she asked of him.

"Of course. We can even live there if you want. Haven't you ever seen it?"

'I've never left the farmlands, Sam, never in my whole life." A faraway look came into her eyes. "I've always longed to see the ocean, though. My grandfather is a sailor, and all my life he has promised me that he would take me to sea one day. Until recently I believed it." She looked into his eyes and saw a trace of sadness there, and quickly looked away. Innately he could see that the sorrow he felt for her made her sad for him instead. When she looked back, her eyes were shining as though she had thought of a way to make him feel better. She leaned near him, and whispered as if imparting a great secret. "But I've seen his ship."

Gwydion was astonished. "How can that be, if you've never seen the sea?"

She smiled at him in the dark. "Well, when he's in port, it's actually very tiny—about as big as my hand. And he keeps it on his mantel, in a bottle. He showed it to me once when he came to visit."

Tears stung his eyes. For all the famous and special people he had met in his life, he was sure that the purity of their collective souls couldn't hold a candle to hers. He was unable to Be for a moment. When he did, he said exactly what his heart was thinking.

'You are the most wonderful girl in the world."

She looked at him seriously. "No, Sam, just the luckiest. And the happiest."

His hands trembled as he touched her bare arms. Their kiss was deep, and held all the promise of a nuptial blessing. For the first time it was easy for him, and the difficult part was bringing it to an end.

'Sam?" Her beautiful eyes were glistening in the light of the moon.

'Yes?"

'I have two things I need to tell you."

He could tell from the smile on her face that neither would be difficult to hear.

'Yes?"

Emily looked down for a moment. "Well, the first is that if you kiss me again, I think we will end up consummating our marriage here, tonight."

His trembling grew to an uncontrollable level. "And the second?"

She ran her hand down his face until it came to a stop on his shoulder. "I really want you to kiss me again." cA.s if in a trance, Gwydion smoothed his cloak out on the ground, and Emily lay down on it. He sat back on his heels, looking at her for a moment, until she put her arms out to him. With a catch in his throat he eased down next to her and came into her embrace, hugging her as tightly as he could without hurting her. He held her like that for what seemed like a very long time, until her hair brushed the tips of his fingers, and he gave in to the desire he had had al night to touch it.

His hands ran down her hair over and over again, relishing the cool, smooth feel of it, like polished satin. Gwydion felt her hands slip into the circle his arms made as he held her, and begin to loosen the tie that bound his shirt closed. He shivered as she gently pulled the shirt loose from his trousers and slid her hands up his abdomen to his chest, where they came lightly to rest. The gesture gave him courage, and he closed his eyes as his lips sought, and found, hers. He could feel them trembling as much as his were.

The warm night wind blew over them, caressing their hair.

Gwydion released her with one arm and leaned back, taking in the sight of her.

There was no fear or embarrassment on Emily's face, just a look of loving approval.

His eyes didn't leave her face as his hand went to the bodice of her garment, taking the first tiny heart-shaped button between fingers that shook as though the wind were a wintry blast. As the material came apart beneath them his hands shook even more, until on the fifth button they lurched in a spasm of nerves and tore the button loose from the lace.

Gwydion stared down at his hand in horror. "Emily, I'm so sorry," he gasped, embarrassment flooding him and turning his face red as the setting sun had been. His panicked glance returned to her face to find her smiling in amusement. She took the button from him for a moment, turning it over in her hand. "Aren't they pretty?" she said, almost as if musing to herself. "My father brought them back for me from the city on his last trip as a birthday gift. I'm sure they cost far too much money." "Emily—" She stopped him by putting two fingers of her other hand on his lips. She replaced the button in his hand, closing his fingers around it.

'Keep it, Sam," she said. "As a memento of the night when I gave you my heart."

She felt hot tears fall on the bare skin below her neck, and she wrapped her arms around him and pulled him to her chest. "It's all right, Sam," she said. "You won't hurt me. Really. It will be all right."

She was reading his mind again. Gwydion felt a wave of sure-ness crest over him, and he brushed the flimsy fabric out of the way, lowering his lips to the hollow between her breasts. With all the tenderness his young soul could muster he kissed her soft skin while his free hand gently slid the top of her frock off her shoulders and onto the ground beneath her.