At War in Love. The Shadow over Rhudaur Part IV

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Cameth Brin, servants quarters, afternoon of November 2, 1347
Written by Rian
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

In Caelen’s dream, she was walking around a pasture in her riding clothes, but she had no horse. “Where is my mare?” she wondered. “I must go to the stable and get her!” She found the little path that went to the stable and followed it, and as she came over the top of the ridge and the familiar building came into sight, there were her mother and father standing just inside the stable doors. They looked up and saw her and smiled. “There you are!” they said warmly, holding their arms out to her. “We were waiting for you!”

"Mother! Father!" she cried, running to their warm embraces. After a few blessed minutes of reunion, they pulled back and looked at her with the firm but loving expression that she knew so well, and Caelen’s heart skipped a beat.

"Come now, Caelie - you left the tack room a mess again, and you need to clean it up," said her father.

"I'm sorry, I'll go do it right now," she answered penitently, and they headed towards the tack room, which was indeed a mess.

Her father picked up a slender hackamore, made with soft, supple rope. "Put this in its place, sweetheart - but tell me what it is, first."

Caelen was a bit surprised, but obediently answered. "It's the hackamore we use on the young horses when we first train them to the saddle.”

Caelen’s father nodded, and Caelen hung up the hackamore on its peg.

Her mother picked up the next bit of tack. “And this?” she queried, as Caelen took it.

“It’s what we use next – the bridle with the soft, “broken” snaffle bit,” answered Caelen, and hung it on its peg.

“Go on, now,” said her father, and Caelen picked up the D-ring snaffle next, saying, “This is what we use if they fight the broken snaffle,” and she hung it up. As her parents watched silently, Caelen picked up the short curb bit next and hung it up. As she picked up the harsh, long-shanked curb bit, she realized what they were trying to tell her, and turned around to ask for their forgiveness, for they had had this talk before. But her parents were gone, and now the floor was covered with long-shanked curb bits, the harshest bit used for the most disobedient, foolish, headstrong horses. “I must clean up the tack room, I must!" she thought desperately, and picked up a handful of bridles, starting to hang them up on the pegs. But as soon as she hung one up, it went up in flames. She worked faster and faster, but the pile got bigger and bigger, and the flames spread, and then she realized that she had been hearing a voice calling her name for quite some time now – the voice of her brother Callon.

“We have to go now, Caelie, we have to go,” came his well-loved voice, tinged with sorrow. Caelen turned around with bridles in both hands, saying, “But I have to hang these up!” and stopped short when she saw only a beautiful red-bay stallion. But it was the stallion talking to her, in her brother’s voice. It looked at her sadly, saying, “Put them down, Caelen, it’s too late now. We have to go.” And Caelen knew they had to go. She put her hand on the stallion’s strong neck, and he walked her safely through the flaming tack room wall and back out to the pasture.

They walked many a long mile, although Caelen didn’t know where they were going. She just knew they had to go. As the sun set, she was so weary that she started stumbling. “Ride on me, Caelen – I’ll carry you now,” said the stallion, and she climbed onto his back, burying her hands in his rich mane and laying her head on his strong neck …

When she woke up, they were approaching a dark forest, filled with strange, twisted pines.

“Stop! I don’t want to go in there!” she cried in dismay.

“I don’t want to go there, either, but that’s where the road goes, Caelen. We must go on – there is no road back,” replied the stallion sorrowfully.

“No, no, let’s just turn around and go back!” she implored, but when she turned around to look, there was indeed no road behind them, and then she knew that the stallion was right.

Their journey through the dark, twisted forest seemed to last forever. The trees were harsh and cruel, their branches and needles dry and sharp. They reached out for Caelen and the stallion, slashing at them and raising cruel welts and bleeding wounds. The stallion tried his best to avoid the waving branches and to try to keep them away from Caelen, but it was no use. Caelen cried out in pain and bent low over the stallion’s neck, holding on tight and closing her eyes, but the slashing went on and on …

Suddenly Caelen realized that it was quiet now, and there were no more tree branches hurting her. She slowly straightened up and opened her eyes, and saw that they were in a small clearing with a giant oak in the middle, waving its branches as though there was a storm going on, but there was no storm. Then Caelen realized that the oak was keeping off the cruel pine trees, and she jumped down from the stallion to thank the oak tree.

“Oh, thank you so much!” she said gratefully, and the oak swept a branch gently by her face. She turned back to speak to the stallion, but to her horror, he was already far off in the distance, stamping and fighting as he was being pulled off by a giant lady who had a rope around his proud neck.

“Stay with the oak tree, Caelie!” the stallion cried, his voice faint from the distance. “Stay with the oak tree!” – and he was gone.

Caelen started to run to where he had disappeared, but as she neared the first pine tree, it slashed at her neck, and she ran back to the oak and flung her arms around its trunk. As night fell, the menacing pine trees moved in closer and closer, and Caelen kept moving around the trunk of the oak tree, trying to get away from them. But they were closing in on all sides, and would reach her soon.

“You must leap now,” said a voice, and a branch of the oak tree bent down towards her. But Caelen had always been afraid of climbing trees, and she shrank back in fear. “I can’t; I’m afraid of trees,” she said in a small, frightened voice.

“Leap!” cried the voice, more urgent this time. “You must leap, Caelen, for I can bend down no further,” and looking at the menacing pine trees approaching, Caelen finally chose the lesser of her fears and leapt up into the oak tree, catching the branch and swinging up into the tree.

It was quiet in the heart of the tree, and the bark and leaves were soft and warm to her touch. Caelen climbed up higher and nestled in a comfortable nook, leaning her head back and slowly relaxing. She looked at her arms ruefully; they were bloody and dirty and covered with scratches and welts. She raised a hand to her face and neck; it came back marred with blood and dirt.

Then she saw a branch of the oak tree moving slowly towards her. She drew in a sharp breath, and her heart leaped in fear, for she was afraid that the branch would slash at her as the pine branches had, and she cowered back against the trunk. But the branch kept coming, and it finally touched her arm. She stiffened, afraid of more welts and cuts. But the branch merely swept its soft leaves across her arm and then drew back. Caelen was surprised; the branch had very soft leaves, and it felt soft and warm on her arm. She looked down at her arm and stared in astonishment; the blood and dirt were gone; the welts and bruises healed. She looked at the drooping branch and saw that some of the leaves were crushed and torn, and her blood was staining them red.

“You were trying to help me, weren’t you? I should have known!” she said in wonder. “But oh! you’re hurt now!” she added sorrowfully. But when she looked again, the leaves were whole and clean.

Another branch reached out towards her and then stopped, its leaves waving gently.

Caelen slowly reached out her other arm towards the branch until the leaves were touching it, and the branch swept gently over her arm, leaving it whole as it did the other arm. Caelen held her breath, looking anxiously at the branch’s crushed and stained leaves, and then laughed out loud as the leaves were slowly restored again.

She stood up cautiously, hugging the tree trunk tightly and closing her eyes, and then held her face up as the topmost branches bent down towards her, letting their leaves play over her face and neck. When she opened her eyes again, she saw to her surprise that her arms were turning into slender branches, covered with tiny green budding leaves.

“Look!” she said, holding tighter to the tree. “We’re growing together!” Caelen held up her hands towards the sun, and the tree held up its branches, and they rejoiced together in the warmth and strength that flowed to them from the sun …

and Caelen slowly opened her eyes, blinking in the bright afternoon light that was falling across her tear-streaked face, and she was back in her room at Cameth Brin.

***

Caelen watched the late afternoon sun sink lower and lower. She had a lot to think on, and a lot of it wasn't pleasant. Suddenly she turned from the window with a little smile on her face. She looked anxiously out of the window again. "I don't think it's too late," she thought, and she grabbed her hooded cloak and some money and slipped out of the room.

Many of the merchants had closed their stalls, but some were still out. Caelen walked swiftly through the marketplace, her eyes searching back and forth, until she found who she was looking for.

"Excuse me, sir," came a soft voice, and the apple seller looked around to see a tall, slender, grey-eyed noblewoman, with wisps of reddish-gold hair curling around her face.

"Evening, miss," he replied, touching his hat in respect. "May I be helpin' you with something?"

"I see you have some apples left - may I buy them, please?"

"Certainly, miss - how many would you like?" asked the man, pulling out a small bag.

"Um, all of them, please," said Caelen. She held out some money. "Is this enough?"

The apple seller's eyes opened wide. What a day this had been! It had gone from normal, to disastrous, to wonderful! What a blessing this extra money would be to his family!

"'Tis more than enough, miss," he replied gratefully. "Here, this is all they're worth," he said and took the appropriate amount.

"But there's too many for me to carry," said Caelen. "Would you just please take the whole amount and then deliver them for me?"

The apple seller objected at first, as it was quite a bit over what he would have normally charged, but Caelen was insistant, and he finally accepted it, shaking his head a bit at "the whims of those noblemen..."

Caelen told him the address, and then added, handing him a note, "And if you would be so kind as to have this delivered to the master of the house, please."

The seller took the note and put it away carefully in his vest, and then picking up his wheelbarrow, turned around and headed in the direction that Caelen had indicated.

As Eryndil headed home for a brief check-up on how things were progressing at his house, he was surprised to see the apple merchant slowly pushing his wares down his street.

"Good evening, my good man," Eryndil greeted him kindly. "You're working late tonight!"

"I was jes' heading home to a right good meal, thanks to your kindness, sir," and he bowed to Eryndil in gratitude, "when a young lady stopped me, and would you believe it, she bought all the rest of my apples!" he said in wonder, shaking his head at the strange day he had gone through. "I'm supposed to deliver them to the house of a lord ... Eryndil," he concluded, checking Caelen's note again.

"Well, I am he, and the house is right there!" said Eryndil, intrigued.

"Well, then, this note is for you, sir," said the apple merchant, handing Caelen's note to Eryndil.

As the servants came out to unload the apples into the house, they stopped in surprise as they heard Eryndil's hearty laughter, for the note read :

"An apple for the teacher!"