The Selkie’s Daughter (5 page)

She looked at the bloody end and gave a small grimace.  “’Tis as you said––the point remains lodged in your hip.”  Her hands trembled as she took up the bowl and poured a liquid into the open wound.

Rhys was trying to appear courageous before her, but the damned stuff burned.  “What are you pouring in me?”

“’Tis a tansy, mostly of woad, with a pinch of wood ash and herbs to promote healing.  I am letting it set before I go poking around for the metal tip.  The wort staunches bleeding.”

“Are you going to tell me who kissed you, Annys?”  Rhys meant to distract himself from the burning potion, but found he was deeply interested in her answer.

She shook her head no, and then began to press on his flesh around the wound, judging how the tip was still sitting. 

“Your talking helps me focus on something other than the torture you inflict.  I think you will find it will do the same for you,” Rhys pointed out.

“Very well, what do you wish to speak of?”

“Who kissed you?”

One corner of her mouth tugged into a half smile.  “A dogged one, are you no’?”  She inserted her finger into the wound.

Unable to stop his reaction, his body bucked.  “Please, for the love of God, woman, talk to me!  Your voice keeps the agony at bay.”

Annys swallowed hard and her face was taking on a greyish tint.  “Mayhap you are right.  Why do you wish to hear about someone kissing me?  It has no meaning and was long ago.”

“Long ago?”

“Aye, I was but two and ten.  ’Twas before I came to stay with Hagatha.”

“You mentioned her taking you in afore.  Did something happen to your family?”

She paused from her probing.  “For a stranger, you certainly wish to ken all my secrets.”

Rhys laughed.  “Your finger is half-buried in my hip and you are staring at my uncovered backside.  I do believe we have gone past being strangers, Annys.  I am trusting you with my life.  Mayhap you should entrust me with your secrets.”

She sighed deeply and went back to working to get the arrow tip out.  “I had a family.  A mother, at least, but she sickened and died when I was very young.  I thought I had an older sister and a father.  Howbeit, as I grew I learnt through their tongue lashings and insults that I was not the daughter of the laird.  He told me one night I was the bastard get of a Selkie.”  Her hand stilled, as if awaiting his reaction.

His heart ached for the small girl told she belonged to no one, that she was a bastard.  “Men say cruel things when the drink is upon them.”

“Aye, they do.  But when such words are repeated in daylight, again and again, you come to accept them as truth.  I bear the mark of Selkie blood, so there is no denying it.  That did not stop the man who was not my father from bartering me to gain alliance with another laird.  I was betrothed to the Tanist of a lowland clan that had a fortress outside Selkirk.”

“Did you wed with him?”

She gave a brief bob of her head.  “My
father
sent me north to foster with them until the feast could be arranged.  It was quite a cheerful occasion.  A lot of boasting, bragging, and all manners of tests of strength.  Then, the priest came and spake the words.  I was given a kiss of
pax
and the wedding party carried us both to the bed chamber.”

Rhys stilled in his fidgeting against the pain she caused digging for the arrowhead.  He did not want to envision what she would tell him next.  She had been barely a child, with no mother to prepare her for what would come.  Now he knew where she had seen a man unclad and one who had kissed her. 
Her husband
.  His insides burned at the knowledge.  If she were married to another, why was she hiding out here in Rowenwood Forest for over a decade?

“No one warned me of the bedding ceremony.  I do no’ know what my father believed.  That they would not dare send me back?  They would accept me with the Selkie mark on my body?”

“What is this mark you speak of?”  Rhys could not imagine any flaw that could detract from her beauty.  He could see the hurt on her face as she spoke of the humiliation, and was sorry he had pushed her to tell him of it.

****

Annys was unsure why she’d told him.  She had never spoken about it to anyone outside of Hagatha.  She knew little about this man, yet some sense inside her said trust him. 

Rhys was so handsome, his warrior’s body hard, lean from the years of fighting.  His dark brown hair lay in soft waves on the back of his neck and covered his ears.  Locks fell over his forehead.  Those pale amber eyes had a feral quality, which seemed at odds with his gentleness of nature.

Meone had the same look in his eyes, as if he said he’d stay with her, only she would never be his master, never own him.  There was no taming Meone, just as there would be no taming Rhys de Valyer.  Did she
want
to tame him?  She brushed the question aside, not brave enough to face answering it.

“I have the tip.”  The room seemed too hot, and her stomach did a slow roll, but she refused to get sick.  There was much to do yet.  “The bone is not jagged, so no fragments.”

“’Tis good.”  Rhys sounded exhausted, and struggling to stay in his presence of mind.

Rising, she went to the table and poured water in the bowl, then cleaned her hands of his blood.  Knowing the hardest part of the ordeal was yet to come, she filled the cup with more wine and took it to him.  “Drink.”

“Mayhap
you
need it.  Your color appears pale.  Are you sure you can finish the rest?”  He expressed concern about her ability to see it through.

She tried to smile.  “There is none other, unless you think Meone capable.”

“Meone?”  When Rhys echoed the name, the black cat stirred from his warm place by the hearth and came over to meow.  “No, I do not think the cat can serve.”

She stared as he drank down the wine, watched his throat muscles work, swallowing.  Oh aye, Rhys de Valyer was a handsome man, one to turn the head of any woman.  Sadness filled her.  No, there would be no taming this man.  He would stay until he was healed enough to travel and the weather shifted.  Then, he would be gone to Glenrogha, and in spite of his fancy words, he would soon forget her and find a woman to take to wife.  She would be left here, her isolation all the more stark for his intrusion, left alone with memories of the beautiful man who came to her in a Yuletide storm.

Before the dawn
he
comes
…

The thread of the dream floated in her mind.  Had it been more than just a dream?  Had the words actually been a foretelling of Rhys’s coming?  Her mind struggled to recall more of the vision.  What seemed so sharp before, now had faded, and was hard to remember.

She crossed to the fireplace and pulled the long iron rod out, looking at the tip glowing red.  Revulsion roiled through her as she considered using it to burn Rhys’s flesh.  Mesmerized by the flames flickering and dancing, she felt that thinning of the veil between the two worlds.

Something wondrous will happen, something magical…

What she was about to do was not wondrous.  It was obscene.  Steeling herself, she walked back to him.  “I will put this to the wound and say your name three times.  Is there aught I need to do after?”

“Snails help burns, I am told.  I do not suppose they are about in this weather.”

“I have a compress of thyme and yarrow and I can pack it with snow to dull the feeling.”  Her voice quivered, so she swallowed back the tightness in her throat. 

Sucking in a breath, she placed the iron on his hip.  Her muscles almost jumped in an echo of his.  He reached up and clasped her wrist.  There was so much strength in his grip that it felt like he could snap it like a dry twig.  Yet, he controlled his hold so he did not hurt her.  His flesh sizzled and the smell was overpowering.

Rhys de Valyer…Rhys de Valyer…Rhys de Valyer
…her mind chanted, clinging to the power of his name, as she forced herself to hold the iron in place.  His fingers finally released his grasp on her lower arm.

Pulling the poker away, she felt tears pouring down her cheeks.  To hide that she was crying, she rose and carried the rod back to the fire.  She tried to wipe them away with the back of her hand, but failed.  Staring at the poker, she knew she would have to inflict the pain to his body again.  She had to.  It was the only way to save him.

Her hand was unsteady as she poured him another cup of wine.  She desperately wanted to drink it, but there was not much left.  He would need it.

“Annys, how fare you?”

Something wondrous will happen, something magical.  But only if you are strong enough to reach out and shape the future with your hands.  I bring you Yuletide blessings and the chance of fulfilling your heart’s desire
.

Dreams lied.

She plastered a smile on her face.  “I have another cup of wine for you to drink.  I wish there was more.  It would ease your suffering some.”

She took a moment to place the soaked rag poultice to his side, and tucked the woolen cover against it, to keep it in place.  Sweat trickled from his face and down his neck as he took the cup and drank it down.

She tried not to look at the sickening arrow still in his shoulder.  She needed a few heartbeats to draw her inner strength together to face the ordeal again.

He reached up and traced the curve of her cheek with the tips of his fingers.  “You are very brave, Annys.”

In awe, she reached up and put her hand against his on her face.  So many emotions were buffeting her that she could not begin to sort them out.  Some were so new she had no name for them.  Others were bitter.  There would be nothing wondrous for her, nothing magical.  She would care for this man, and then he would leave her.

“What is your surname, Annys?”

Her shoulders lifted in a small shrug.  “I am bastard get of a Selkie.  When I grew old enough to ken what that meant I stopped using the name of the man who I thought was my father.  After he sent me away, I have never spoken his name since.”

“What about your husband?  Did you not take his?”

“Nay.  The marriage was never made.  He saw the sign of the Selkie blood and repudiated me.  He ordered them to return me to my home.  When the riders approached they were turned away––my family refused to accept me back, so the soldiers just dumped me outside the gates.”

“Where did you go?”

She dropped her hand, took hold of the shaft and pulled the arrow from his shoulder.  “Blessings of the lady…the tip came with it, Rhys.  It will still needing cauterizing, but I will no’ have to go digging around to find the end."

He gave a small laugh.  “A blessing, but I shall accept it.”  He braced himself has she dripped the mixture of woad into the open wound.

She started to rise from her knees, but he caught her wrist and pulled her closer.  His touch sent her heart to pounding to where it was hard to think.  “You needs must let me seal the wound.”

“In a bit.  Talk to me.  I wish to hear what happened after the men dropped you outside the gate.”

“I walked away.  I suppose I was not in a good place in my thoughts.  I just kept walking.  Then the rains came and I found I was in a place I did not know.  I was so cold, soaked to the skin.  I was going up a hillside when water had come washing down from the mountain top.  It knocked me off my feet and when I tried to get up, I slipped and went sliding down the hill and into a stream.  I do not ken how to swim, and my mantle and clothing was so heavy it pulled me down.”

“That is horrible.  What saved you?”

“I was going down, deeper and deeper, to where the light grew dim.  I stopped struggling because it seemed futile.  I recall closing my eyes and just floating.  Then suddenly, I felt someone’s hand on me and a light grew in the green darkness.  That is all I recall.  When I awoke, I saw Hagatha standing over me.”

“Since your marriage was never made, then I can do this without risking the wraths of Hell.”  He pulled her closer and closed his mouth over hers once again.

Annys lowered her eyelids and surrendered to the sensations washing over her.  She knew it was wrong to allow him to kiss her.  She liked it.  Liked it too much.  She pushed away, shaking.  “You needs must allow me to finish closing the shoulder.”

She went for the iron, holding it until the red end began to cool just enough to safely use it.  Taking a deep breath, she placed the tip to the wound and heard the familiar hiss of his blood and the woad against the iron.

Rhys de Valyer…Rhys de Valyer…Rhys de Valyer
…

****

Annys woke with a start and looked around her.

Rhys was gone!

Her throat clogged with tears.  It had been four days since he had come.  After the second night, she had awoken to the sound of water dripping from the eaves.  The winds had shifted and now brought warm air, sending the snow to melt.  She had closed her eyes at the sound.  Why did it have to change?  When the snows melted, he would ride away.  She accepted that.  Only, did it have to be so soon?

These past nights they had lain before the fire.  She cared for him, then he entreated her to talk about her life with Hagatha.  She had finally showed him the deformity that marked her as one with Selkie blood.  He studied the small webbing between the last two toes on her left foot.  When presented with the reality he seemed puzzled.  Then he had laughed.  She had wanted to hit him!  Her heart melted when he said any man who would send her away because of that was a bloody fool.