claim for
you. It was a surprise he didn’t, really. After all, you’d need a dowry.” He
glanced away from her, shrugging. “But then, he wasn’t your blood kin, not even
your legal guardian then, I think. I really don’t know what happened, Meredydd.
I was just a boy, after all.”
“You hold Lagan.” Meredydd shook her head.
“I’ll give it to you,” he said, slipping closer to her. “I’ll
build you a house here. A house with a thousand rose bushes.”
She waved him to silence, her inner turmoil taking all her
attention. All these years she’d assumed Lagan was just as it had been—home.
But the family of Lagan no longer existed. Her home no longer existed.
“Then I’ve been trespassing.”
“No! You couldn’t be a trespasser here.”
“But your mother—”
“She doesn’t know. She doesn’t know a good many things. She
thinks you’re some sort of...Dark Sister and she thinks you’ve runewoven to
make me lust for you. She thought you knew Lagan was part of Arundel and were
scheming to get it back. She doesn’t know what I know, Meredydd—that you’re an
angel and innocent of deceit and that I love you.”
“Please, Aelder Wyth, stop saying those things. I’m no
angel. I’m hopelessly flawed in ways you can’t begin to imagine. I have to go.”
She turned.
He reached for her. “You hate me. Because of Lagan. Because
of my mother’s foolish accusations. Because of my stupid bungling—”
“I don’t hate you, Wyth. I don’t,” she assured him and tried
to put the whole force of herself behind her eyes. “But neither do I love you.
And don’t tell me I could learn,” she added when he opened his mouth to
protest. “I have far too much to learn already.”
She made good her escape this time, or nearly so, for he
mounted his horse and followed her up the hill.
“Let me ride you home,” he said, his horse prancing beside
her.
She kept on, not even looking at him. “No, Wyth. I have
thoughts I need to order and exile. And your mother might see us and God knows
what she might think.”
That brought him up short. He reined in his mount at the top
of the hill and glanced furtively around. Then he watched her trudge away from
him through the tall wheat, over and away toward Gled Manor.
“I will see you again,
Meredydd,” he called. “I won’t give up.”
She stopped halfway down the hill, Nairne-side, and turned
on him. “It’s the Meri you should be making that promise too, Wyth Arundel. And
see that you keep it!”
Back she swung and marched away, skirts trailing, hair
streaming, leaving him alone atop the hill.
Chapter 5
Transformation takes place in one’s mind.
Therefore the mind must be kept pure, for what one
thinks, he becomes.
— The Corah
Book II, Verses 3,4
The Sun had shifted outside the window and fallen across
the pages of her book, making reading difficult. She rubbed her suddenly
burning eyes and started to move away from the gleaming wash of sunlight. She
was startled when the Osraed Bevol dropped a large, blue crystal down upon the
open pages. Caught in the shaft of white light, it sprayed vivid azure rain
across the pristine paper, drenching it.
Meredydd gasped at the beauty of it.
“Now,” said Osraed Bevol, “tell me about the crystal in my
hand.”
She turned and looked at him questioningly. He held his
knotted fist before him, closed and impenetrable.
“But, Master, how can I tell you about what I cannot see?”
“I have told you, I have, in my hand, a crystal.”
“But I can’t see it,” she repeated.
He pointed with his other hand at the book on her desk. “What
is that?”
She glanced at the blue glory. “A crystal.”
“Tell me about crystal.”
She did as she was told, studying the glittering gem as it
sat upon the book. “It is gleaming, glittering. It takes the light of the Sun
and refracts it and spits it in all directions. It is beautiful, colorful,
vivid.”
“Is that all?”
“Well...”
“Pick it
you. It was a surprise he didn’t, really. After all, you’d need a dowry.” He
glanced away from her, shrugging. “But then, he wasn’t your blood kin, not even
your legal guardian then, I think. I really don’t know what happened, Meredydd.
I was just a boy, after all.”
“You hold Lagan.” Meredydd shook her head.
“I’ll give it to you,” he said, slipping closer to her. “I’ll
build you a house here. A house with a thousand rose bushes.”
She waved him to silence, her inner turmoil taking all her
attention. All these years she’d assumed Lagan was just as it had been—home.
But the family of Lagan no longer existed. Her home no longer existed.
“Then I’ve been trespassing.”
“No! You couldn’t be a trespasser here.”
“But your mother—”
“She doesn’t know. She doesn’t know a good many things. She
thinks you’re some sort of...Dark Sister and she thinks you’ve runewoven to
make me lust for you. She thought you knew Lagan was part of Arundel and were
scheming to get it back. She doesn’t know what I know, Meredydd—that you’re an
angel and innocent of deceit and that I love you.”
“Please, Aelder Wyth, stop saying those things. I’m no
angel. I’m hopelessly flawed in ways you can’t begin to imagine. I have to go.”
She turned.
He reached for her. “You hate me. Because of Lagan. Because
of my mother’s foolish accusations. Because of my stupid bungling—”
“I don’t hate you, Wyth. I don’t,” she assured him and tried
to put the whole force of herself behind her eyes. “But neither do I love you.
And don’t tell me I could learn,” she added when he opened his mouth to
protest. “I have far too much to learn already.”
She made good her escape this time, or nearly so, for he
mounted his horse and followed her up the hill.
“Let me ride you home,” he said, his horse prancing beside
her.
She kept on, not even looking at him. “No, Wyth. I have
thoughts I need to order and exile. And your mother might see us and God knows
what she might think.”
That brought him up short. He reined in his mount at the top
of the hill and glanced furtively around. Then he watched her trudge away from
him through the tall wheat, over and away toward Gled Manor.
“I will see you again,
Meredydd,” he called. “I won’t give up.”
She stopped halfway down the hill, Nairne-side, and turned
on him. “It’s the Meri you should be making that promise too, Wyth Arundel. And
see that you keep it!”
Back she swung and marched away, skirts trailing, hair
streaming, leaving him alone atop the hill.
Chapter 5
Transformation takes place in one’s mind.
Therefore the mind must be kept pure, for what one
thinks, he becomes.
— The Corah
Book II, Verses 3,4
The Sun had shifted outside the window and fallen across
the pages of her book, making reading difficult. She rubbed her suddenly
burning eyes and started to move away from the gleaming wash of sunlight. She
was startled when the Osraed Bevol dropped a large, blue crystal down upon the
open pages. Caught in the shaft of white light, it sprayed vivid azure rain
across the pristine paper, drenching it.
Meredydd gasped at the beauty of it.
“Now,” said Osraed Bevol, “tell me about the crystal in my
hand.”
She turned and looked at him questioningly. He held his
knotted fist before him, closed and impenetrable.
“But, Master, how can I tell you about what I cannot see?”
“I have told you, I have, in my hand, a crystal.”
“But I can’t see it,” she repeated.
He pointed with his other hand at the book on her desk. “What
is that?”
She glanced at the blue glory. “A crystal.”
“Tell me about crystal.”
She did as she was told, studying the glittering gem as it
sat upon the book. “It is gleaming, glittering. It takes the light of the Sun
and refracts it and spits it in all directions. It is beautiful, colorful,
vivid.”
“Is that all?”
“Well...”
“Pick it
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