Elizabeth Haydon - Rhapsody - Child of Blood

Her Lirin blood was obvious in her slim build and delicate features, but she was only three or four inches shorter than he was, probably just over five feet. Despite the calluses on her hands, and a small scar on her wrist, she had an absence of the coarseness that some of the other farmgirls had, and there was an air of dignity about her that belied her age. He wished he could tell more about the colors of her complexion and beautiful dark eyes, but the light was too weak.

He was suddenly grateful for the first time to his own father for the years of intense insistence regarding Cymrian language study. “Well, what are you going to do now? Since you obviously don’t want to go in.”

Emily looked back at the hall. “I think I’ll just wait here until my brother comes to fetch me at midnight,” she said, sounding a little disheartened.

“Seems like a pretty miserable way to spend a summer evening.”

“Well, there are varying degrees of misery. It could be worse.”

Gwydion nodded sympathetically. He could see that her family must be somewhat better off than most to afford her the trimmings on her dress, though in his family’s circles she would still be seen as a very poor peasant, or at most a common landowner. Her family’s relative wealth, coupled with her appearance, had obviously made her a prime target for the young hunters inside. Unlike the other young women, however, she was unwilling quarry, and he respected her for it.

“I have an idea,” he said, casting a glance around. “There’s a clear, flat area over there near the meeting hall, but not too near. I’m sure we can hear the music from there. Why don’t we have a dance or two there? If you’re willing, of course.” All his years of etiquette training stumbled over his tongue and he screeched to an awkward halt.

Emily’s face brightened, and Gwydion’s heart rose. “What a wonderful idea,” she said happily. “I would love to. Thank you.”

He offered her his hand once more, and led her across the road and over the fields to the small clearing he had seen. They ducked quickly to the side of the building when more people came through the door, but managed to avoid being seen.

A mazurka was ending just as they reached the field. They stood, facing each other in awkward silence, until the next dance began. Gwydion put his hand on her waist, and was almost unbalanced by the thrill that shot from his fingers up his arm to his head. He took her hand as she lifted the edge of her skirt, and they followed the rhythm of the music across the field, turning in time.

Almost immediately there was a problem. Though the dance was a simple two-step, Gwydion’s training had been in classical military style, and as a result, the unsophisticated step Emily used caught his foot on the fourth pass. She trod lightly on his toe, and embarrassment flooded her face. He ignored it, going on, but at the same point in the next set of passes it happened again. She stopped, looking humiliated, and turned away quickly.

“I’m terribly sorry, Sam,” she said. “You must think I have all the grace of a farm animal. Maybe you should go back inside.”

Gwydion took hold of her shoulders and turned her around. “What are you talking about? I’m the one who doesn’t know the dance. Please don’t do that.”

“Do what?”

“Start acting like I’m one of them.” He gestured at the hall. “I’m enjoying your company, Emily, and I can’t think of anything you resemble less than a farm animal. Do you know what the next dance will be?”

Emily’s smile returned. “Probably a courting twirl.”

“Well, can I have another go of it? I think I can handle that.” She nodded. Gwydion noticed that he had not released her hand, and she had not pulled it away, so he held it as they stood, waiting for the waltz to begin. When it finally did he was careful to stick to the basic steps and not add any of the flourishes that he had been taught for use at court.

This time they meshed perfectly, and he could see exhilaration take her as they waltzed across the field in time to the diminished music. When she was excited her eyes caught the light, or perhaps they generated it themselves. Either way, by the time the dance was finished they were sparkling brighter than the illumination from any lantern.

“Emmy, what are you doing out here? Are you coming in?” She whirled around. Gwydion looked over her head to see a small group standing at the edge of the field, staring at them. The speaker was a dark-haired young man of mixed race; he concluded that this must be her brother. In addition there were two young women and one of the boys who had been out looking for her earlier. All wore expressions containing varying degrees of displeasure.

“Everyone’s waiting for you, Emmy. You’ve missed three dances already and your suitor card is messed up completely. Come on.”

Emily straightened her shoulders. “I’ll be in eventually, Ben,” she answered with an annoyed tone. “And I couldn’t care less about the suitor card. I didn’t put one in the basket, so I shouldn’t have one anyway.”

“Everyone has a suitor card,” said the other young man, his annoyance a match for hers. “And I had the first dance. Now get in here.”

Gwydion watched Emily’s back go rigid. “Don’t you dare speak to me like that, Sylvus,” she said coldly. “I’ll be in when I’m damned good and ready.” He swallowed a laugh at the look of horror on the faces of the young women, and the astonishment of her brother and Sylvus. Ben smiled slightly, and turned to the other boy.

“See, didn’t I tell you? Are you sure you want to risk ending up with that for the rest of your life?” He winked at her and went back inside, followed by the girls. Sylvus stared at her. Finally he spoke.

“Hurry up, Emily, I’m waiting.” He went back inside, with a backward glare at Gwydion.

He heard her mutter under her breath. “Yes, and you’re insufferable, too.”

Gwydion leaned his head down near her ear. “Good for you,” he said encouragingly. “Want to take a walk?”

Emily gave his question no thought at all. “I’d love to. Come, I’ll show you my favorite place in all the world.”

The moon was just beginning to rise as they ran down the road and cut across the field, heading up the slope of a rolling hill and leaving the noise and light of the party behind them.

Gwydion had always been happier outdoors than inside, and as a result spent much time running and walking out in the world. Despite that training it was difficult to keep up with Emily, who, her dress and sensibly laced shoes notwithstanding, climbed the hill without even breathing hard, running most of the way.

Gwydion had still not completely adjusted to the thin, warm air, and found himself struggling up hills and steep grades, trying to stay beside her, but more often lagging behind. Occasionally she would remember he was there, and slow her steps, or turn and offer him her hand. Finally he decided not to release it when her excitement spurred her to hurry again, and she got the message. They climbed the rest of the way together, hand in hand, at a speedy but reasonable pace.

Just before the summit she stopped in a shaft of moonlight that made her hair look silver. “We’re almost there,” she said, and he could see her eyes sparkle again in the dark. “Close your eyes.”

Gwydion complied, and followed her blindly up to the top of the grade. She turned a little to the right, and gently led him behind her.

“Watch your foot, there’s a hole here.”

He stepped around it, and felt her come to a stop. He could hear the intake of her breath as she released his hand.

“All right, you can open your eyes now.”

His vision adjusted automatically, but his breath was taken even further away by the sight. The valley stretched out below at his feet, bathed in moonlight, as far as he could see. A variety of fields made it up, some tilled, some fallow, with a great willow tree in the middle bending down over a stream that bisected the land. Even in the dark Gwydion could feel the beauty of the place, made somehow more intense by Emily’s love of it.