The Unicorn's Gift - Part 4

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The pain grows ever stronger,
Like a blackness on the soul
Ever near, and ever dear
It grows beyond control.

Though night can be a comfort
a refuge from one’s plight
To flee into a darkness
As deep as any night.

But, fears once held in darkness
can sometimes set things right,
for only from the darkness
can you see the farthest light.
by


Sarah Lynn Morgan
The Unicorn's Gift
 
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Part Four

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     "Did you hear the news?” Keely Said, breathlessly, as she swept into the kitchen with a tray of dishes to be cleaned. The inn was unaccustomedly busy at this hour, because of the number of people who were drifting in to partake of the news of the Court Herald.

Dara sighed slightly, even though she too was feeling some of the excitement on the inside. “Yes, Keely. I found out when he asked me for directions to the village elders.” She smiled, and shook her head, as she tried to clean up some of the mess, so that things would not be fully out of control before her kitchen woman got in for the evening.

“Imagine it. An envoy. In our inn,” Keely actually laughed, as she busied herself filling another tray of mugs for her father. “All the girls in the village are drifting in and out of the doors, looking for any excuse to come in and look at him, like a bunch of silly hearts. I’m glad I’ve never been that much of a numb brain, mother. You’d think they had never seen a man before. Even though he is very good looking!” She giggled as she whisked the tray back into the common room.

Dara laughed in spite of herself, and bent to work on the last of the dishes, even as she shook her head at her daughter’s excitement. “Numb Brains, Indeed.” she smiled, and taking the moment to quickly wipe her hands before stirring the stew away from the bottom of the kettle.

She wondered yet again, where the boy she had sent to the kitchen woman’s home might be, because now she would need them both to change the wash water. Shaking her head again, she returned to place the last of the dirty bowls into the tub of heated water, when she thought she heard a small noise from the door to the kitchen yard.

Turning quickly. “Well it’s about time that you …”

She never finished. Nor did she hear the clatter of a stack of crockery bowls as they smashed themselves on the floor at her feet. Her mind wanted to tell her feet to rush to the woman she saw standing there, but the only move she made was to slowly raise her hands to cover her open mouth. Soon enough she was struggling just to remain upright.

“Dara?” the young woman asked her, frightened.

Dara’s mind thought that was a strange thing for her to ask, and then as she continued to fight for air, she realized that something was very wrong.

“Dara? Are you ill? I didn’t mean to give you a fright. Did you cut yourself?” The young woman herself looking more frightened than Dara could even imagine. “I’m sorry,’ grasping her hands to the sides of her skirt, and lifting them slightly, I…”

This woman, although the very image of her lost friend, was far too young. Slowly, as if fitting pieces of a puzzle, her mind began to work toward the realization of who it must be. Thus, Dara had not spoken yet, as Calum burst through the door to the common room, and looking quickly from Dara to the woman at the door, began to stare as well. Even he did not move as Keely also rushed through the door, and straight into his back..

 

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         It had taken great strength to reach his hand out to the latch on the door, and slip quietly into the kitchen. His fear of hurt and disappointment on the faces of his friends might have stilled his heart. Still, he had somehow managed to do it. Now however, as he stood staring at the look of shock on Dara’s face, he wished he had gone home. He would have turned and fled if he had the energy her expression had drained from his limbs.

“Syna!” Keely gasped loudly stepping out from behind her father. “What by all the stars in the nighttime sky are you...” Keely stopped speaking as soon as her eyes were able to move from the crockery to stare at her friend.

It was several moments before she continued in broken speech, “It’s not a feast day. Besides those clothes are too nice to use for a lark.” She paused again. “You look…, beau…” and the she finally stopped to just stare, just as her parents were still doing, even though they were begining to show some signs of life.

Having looked over at Keely, his eyes were then inextricably drawn once again to Dara’s face. He had to speak, he had to. “Dara,” he began, clasping his hands to his stomach, “I am sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you. I didn’t mean…, to hurt anyone. I’ll just go.”

Dara reacted finally, at his offer to leave. “No.” was all she said, before stooping to begin mechanically picking up the bowls. “You just took me by surprise, that’s all.” she offered as she fought not to cut her shaking hands.

Keely spoke. “Syna? Why are you wearing those clothes? They are very beautiful, but I’ve never seen them before. Why have you dressed yourself as a maiden would?” Keely started slightly, as her father placed his hand gently on her shoulder to silence her.

“Keely.” Dara began in a more steady voice, as she once again stood to place a handful of shards on the table. “Take Dyre up to our rooms, and find him something else to wear. We have some things in the chest that should fit him well enough, just get him some breeches. Be careful with those clothes. They are…, very fine. Be careful.” She didn’t really look at him, her eyes roving all the spaces near him, in between looking at her daughter.

Syna tried to speak again, only to be silenced by Dara’s raised hand.

“We have no time now. We’ll go into this later. Right now, we have a room full of guests, and no time before dinner. Move, Keely, please.” She finished softly, but insistently.

Keely, looking at her mother quickly, rushed over to take Syna by the hand, and quickly lead him to the back stairs before anyone else could speak. Neither of them saw Calum step toward his wife, nor did they see Dara’s head sink slowly to his chest as he put his arms around her…

 

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         Once in the family’s rooms, with the door shut behind them, Keely spoke excitedly.“Syna, what by all the saints... Is this a jest?” Then taking him by the hand, she led him over to the windows, to look more carefully at him. “Where did you get these?”

“They were my mother’s.” He said softly. Then looking down. “I’m sorr…”

“Sorry!” Keely almost shouted. “I know that, you’re always sorry. Let me look at you…,” And Keely did just that. Examining him from bow to toe, and then back again.

Then she looked at his face closely, as if she had never seen him before; before she once more looked him up and down with the strangest look on her face.

The whole process was so unnerving, that Syna began to feel some irritation creep into his sense of shame at having surprised them, which made him stand a little more naturally, and hold his head up a little higher.

When Keely finally spoke, it was with a sense of Awe. “Well I can hardly believe it. If I did not know you, I’d think you were one of the prettiest young maidens I’ve ever seen. No wonder mother was so shocked. I can see that what they said about your mother was true, as well….” Ruining her hand over the bottom of the vest, and then the side of the skirt, before reaching up for his collar, “Your mother was a wonderful seamstress. No doubt about that. My festival clothes aren't half as fine as her every day clothes.” Her eyes slowly rose to his face before she finished, “…Beautiful.”

Syna could only think the same of her, but he somehow managed to say “Thank you.”

“Is this what you want?” Keely asked softly.

For a moment, Syna was unsure of what she meant, she was looking at him so strangely. She had none of the shock and hurt that he'd seen inn the adults eyes, but her expression worried him even more. “The clothes?” he finally asked.

Keely looked at him differently, and then realized that her hand was still resting on the top of his chest. With a smile of understanding, she let it slide up to his shoulder.

“I’ve always known you like me, Dyre.” She giggled softly. “Yes, the clothes.”

For a moment he found it hard to respond, but then the same feeling that had come over him with the children seemed to return. He just nodded his head.

“Well.” Keely sighed in wonder. “Do you like it a lot, I mean?” Still unsure herself of the question she was actually asking.

Syna reached his hand up, and put in on hers. “I like it, Keely.” he whispered, then told her, “more than anything else I can remember. That’s why I decided to come here like this. I just didn’t want to change”

Keely just nodded, but continued to look at him rather strangely, but somehow, this time, he did not feel it as frightening. It did make it a little hard to breathe, though.

From down the stairs, her father’s voice called out. “Keely, we need you girls down here,” which snapped Keely out of her reverie, as she stared at Syna’s face.

“Well, no time now. Did you hear, we have a herald of The King here, and he will be staying with us this evening! You picked quite a day to show up looking so pretty, Syna! Half of the village is in the common room, and more coming in all the while. We have to hurry…”

"Herald?" Syna asked weakly, but was ignored

Quickly, she turned to reach into a trunk, and pulled out a shirt, and breeches. They were new, and more than good enough to serve in the common room. “Well take those off!” She told him, shaking her head. “And don’t forget the bow. It might attract
too much attention.” She giggled.

Nervous at the prospect of undressing in front of Keely, Syna began to giggle a little. Keely giggled too, as he began to try to tell her very quickly how he had come to be dressed this way. All the while her hands flew to work on his boddice lacing, faster than he ever could…

 

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         The common room was as busy as he had ever seen it. He and Keely decided to make a pass around to bring refreshment to those who needed it, before they began to clear away some of the debris of finished meals.

Keely and he had plenty of practice, so they always worked well together. Out in the kitchen, a woman was helping the cook in preparing a new larger pot of stew, and some pies, and all mannar of other foods. It looked like there would be a feast-day no one had planned, and they were working hard to catch up. Outside, one of the stable boys was turning several large chunks of meat over hot coals.

As Syna entered the kitchen with dirty bowls, the kitchen woman looked up at him, and smirked unpleasantly, but said nothing. She had never hidden her dislike for him, but neither had she ever been very vociferous about it. She knew Dara would not permit it. Neither would the older woman, the cook, who smiled more warmly.

“Syna. There you are. Come here child, and help my boy change out the washtub. It’s already dirty, and someone filled it too much for me to manage.”

Syna just nodded, and moved to grab one side. They were crabbing toward the back door, when Keely breezed in, and seeing Syna and the boy grabbed a side to help them through the door.

“For goodness, Syna, hurry up! I can’t keep up. I need you to get father another small cask of wine, and to help pass it out! It looks like tonight will be quite a celebration. Cook? How long for more pies? Some are asking.”

Cook looked at the pies on the sideboard. “Child I’ve told you. We have three your mother made this morning, and one from last night. I have two more coming out of the oven, and I’ll put more in as soon as I’ve cooked some of this bread. You’ll have enough, if you slice it within reason.” She said feigning exasperation, which somehow never quite reached her eyes. She had been there long before Keely.

“Sorry, Cook, but I’m using the sweets to hold them off before the dinner is ready. Besides, if they continue to drink on an empty stomach, even father might not be able to carry them all outside tonight!” Then as Syna and the kitchen boy came shuffling into the door with the empty tub, she turned back to them. “Hurry, Syna.”

“More coming in!” Dara breezed into the kitchen. “Syna! Good. I need you to go out back and get some more tables from the shed. They are clean, but check them before you bring them in, and for god’s sake, hurry before it gets dark. Oh, and don’t forget that Calum wants you too.”

“Before you go.” Cook pleaded “Can you lift the heavy crock by the fire, and fill the washtub? There’s the lad.” Then raising her voice, “And careful there. Don’t burn yourself, the water is too hot.”

Syna smiled at the woman. She had always looked after the children, making sure they were not asked to do things that were beyond their years or too dangerous. It was just that she always had a long list of things that she needed help with, and that she did not seem to notice too quickly when they grew up.

Dara told the woman “I'll do it, Cook. Most of the water’s boiled away already. I’ll get some more, just don’t let it get too hot, or we won’t be able to get the dishes out until it cools.” holding the kettle with a rag, and pouring the water that remained steaming into the tub.

“I’ll get the cold water, and cook, leave the bread, I’ll do that too. We need meat and pies. Keely take these out. And Syna, don’t forget Calum.”

Syna had no chance to forget; however, as just at that moment, Calum leaned into the kitchen, and reaching out, virtually lifted Syna from the kitchen. “Wine, now lad, and you’d better make it two casks, instead of one. And careful on the stairs!” He cautioned, as he gently pushed the boy toward the cellar with both hands on his shoulders. “Don’t fall, and Don’t drop the cask. We may not have enough as it is!”

Syna was careful, as careful as he could be, even as he took the stairs two at a time…

 

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          It had finally begun to quiet down a little. The room was still full, but everyone had been fed, and most had had some form of desert. A slice of pie, or a tasty berry tart; it did not seem to matter which, as all were said to be delicious Cook, and Dara of course, had somehow managed to feed everyone to bursting, and everyone had settled in to enjoy each other’s company. About a half a turn of the glass ago, Dara had even repeated Calum’s hijacking performance, and reached through the door of the kitchen, and dragged him in to sit him beside Keely in front of a hot meal for them too.

Now, even as the kitchen still resounds with the sound of cleaning, the common room had quieted down so that Keely and Syna could take a breath. Dara had spelled Calum at the counter, but was also busy with getting those rooms that would be needed ready for guests.

As usual, there were always other small requests as well.

“Have you a foot or two of thread at hand? Black if you have it.”

“I think I left my handkerchief on the tray...”

Of course, a sweet wherever it was needed. And at the moment she was also helping out a new mother with her baby, taking on the job of temporary grandmother, as easily as she did everything else.

“Goodness.” Keely said softly at Syna’s shoulder. “My feet are worn off. I could sleep for days.”

“Girl! I mean, Boy!” one of the locals called, causing Syna to grimace. There was no doubt between them as to who was being spoken to. Sure enough, it was Bram, who might have called by his proper name, just as easily as anything else. Braun, his cousin was also at the table, with two more of his toadies. Syna sighed as Keely stared hatefully at them over his shoulder.

“I’ll take it.” she said.

Syna just shook his head as he rose and began the walk toward the table amid the unmanly giggles that came from his tormenters.

“Hello, Bram. Did you need something else?” Syna said as pleasantly as he could manage.

“Oh, it’s you, Syna. I thought they had a new girl. I didn’t recognize you.”
Bram said feigning confusion.

A mean spirited chuckle ran around the table, even as Syna gave an inner sigh, and asked again as pleasantly as he could muster. “Is there something you needed, Bram? Another drink, or some more Pie?”

In spite of his flat delivery, he could feel a slight flush rise as another chuckle rolled around the table. Syna fought the urge to tell them just how much they reminded them of a gaggle of geese, but he bit his tongue. Dara would never allow him to be rude, and besides, even though he could probably get away with it here, he’d long ago found that the walks through the fields could be much longer when avoiding some of the larger and more dangerous brutes in the village.

“How about some more Stew, Bram?" Syna asked, flirting with the edge. "You seem to have had enough ale.”

Unfortunately, Bram had not drunk enough to miss the implied sarcasm. “More Ale, Syna, and be quick. I might have to complain about the help again.”

It was at that moment that Jada had chosen to return to the inn, and a sudden hush began to decend. He looked tired as he first entered, having just come from a long meeting with severly of this village’s elders, but he quickly began to smile and shake his head as he looked about the full room.

Syna looked at him, and turned away quickly, frightened to be seen. “I’ll be right back, Bram,” and he began to move toward the counter. Unfortunately, that was the precise moment that Jada looked toward him. It was unfortunate because Braun took that precise moment to stick his food out, causing Syna to stumble into another customer and drop his tray loudly on the floor.

“That Beast!” he heard Keely exclaim, who had obviously been watching. It made Syna blush even more, because Keely, being one of the most beautiful woman in the village was admired by all. She never had any problems. Once in a while someone would try to be too friendly, but mostly she kept control with a look, or a smile. For Syna, it was much harder.

“That was Uncalled for.” A guest said, as Syna felt a hand under his arm, lifting him up. Turning to thank the man, he felt the blood freeze in his veins even as his voice choked off in his throat. Jada was brushing sawdust off his arm.

“There you go, lad. No harm done.” he said looking at the man at the table. “You must by Dyre! I met your father and sister this morning.” He said loudly enough for all to hear, thinking he did some good. Everyone in the room was listening with a keen intensity to every word he spoke.

Raising his eyebrows slightly, he began again at the boy’s silence. “Well, I am glad I got the chance to meet you. If you could, I’d appreciate you finding a small corner to squeeze me in!” Then he stopped and just nodded, as he watched the boy’s face flush, but make no other move, as he just stared back at Jada.

“Humph!” Jada said loudly. “It must run in the family!” He smiled and looked about, but no one smiled back.

Of course, no one, save Syna, knew what he was speaking of. At least four or five where already in huddled conversations around the room, probably regarding the sister remark.

“Well come on lad.” Jada said loudly, and taking his shoulder in a friendly way, they began to walk toward the back of the room. Finally thinking, but only with his feet, Syna turned slightly toward the small table that Dara had set aside for their guest. Conversation began to rise again, as Jada slid gratefully into his seat. Then reaching again for Syna’s shoulder, he pulled the boy close enough to speak more privately.

Here it comes, Syna thought in fear. “No need to be so nervous, lad. I don’t bite, unless I'm bitten first. Can you get me a large ale? I’ve been talking to your Elder for hours, and I’m parched. So be a good lad, and get me a drink.” Syna nodded and started to rise, but he felt Jada hold him back. “So tell me. Will your sister be in tonight, Dyre?”

Syna could feel his eyes blinking slowly, as he looked at the man from a foot away. Finally he found his voice, which had not been used in so long, that it actually cracked. “I don…” He tried. “I’m sorry, Jada. I don’t think so. I’ll get your ale.”

Then as he rose, Jada held him once more. “Did I tell you my name?” he asked.

Syna shook his head, and shrugged, unable to feel worried about anything anymore. “Someone must have.”

Then he turned to get the ale. In doing so, he could see Calum had returned from outside, and wiping bloody hands from slaughtering tomorrow’s meal was making his way rapidly toward the table where Braun and his friends sat giggling.

Syna filled a mug of the best fresh ale in the house, and then a picture of some that was not quite ready to be thrown out to the pigs. He moved as quickly as he could in the crowded room, to take Jada his ale. He could see across the room, that Dara was talking to the man he had fallen on, A farmer, but a good man, who was smiling and telling her that no harm had been done. He only hoped that the boy was unharmed.

Behind her, the scene was different. Calum was leaning heavily over, with his hand on Braun shoulder. Syna was sure that Calum would be speaking softly enough that no one around them could hear well, but no one at the table was drinking, and all were looking at Calum. Bram looked slightly angry, but Braun looked distinctly pale.

Dara gave a withering look over her shoulder, as she began to walk back toward Keely, now at the counter. Syna would have waited for Calum to leave the table, even if he did not have an Ale for Jada.

“Here you are, Jada. It’s the best we have.” He said pleasantly, distracting Jada from where he had been watching Calum across the room - just like everyone present.

On seeing the boy, Jada once more placed his hand on his shoulder, to show familiarity, and affection to the lad for several reasons. Mostly, for being a good and kind heart, for the good that he could see it might do for the lad; but, also for the desire to hold him back a moment or two more while Calum finished up with the ruffians, believing Dyre looked young enough that was necessary. “Thank you, Dyre.” he said loudly, to the approving looks of one or two of the patrons, and the disdainful looks of several more.

Jada continued. “Please, be kind enough to tell your sister that I would very much like to see her again, Dyre. Perhaps I’ll find some time tomorrow, but I will only be here for a day. I should be able to come back in a week or so. I only have until the end of the week to visit two more villages, and I can’t tarry now, you see.” He smiled genuinely.

Syna nodded, and promised he would, as he finally turned back toward Bram’s table

 

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         Behind him, he did not see the sudden change in Jada’s face as he looked about the room. He was a very keen observer, with good hearing, a flawless memory, and an excellent ability to read those people he met. It was why he'd been so useful. It was also why he had been chosen to come to this little village, whose continued good fortune, out of all compass to those about it, had begun to concern his masters.

He was far more likely to be used as an emissary to an important ally, or even to a bothersome rival. There were many others far more suited to dealing with issues of tithes and roads, and such. When he had received his commission, though, he had only smiled contentedly, and accepted it gratefully, along with a few coins for the journey. That is, until later when he had met with the Chancellor himself, and been given his real mission in private.

So distracted as they were, none saw his measured glances about the room, nor did they see as his eyes squinted as if he were committing the faces of the men at the table where Calum stood to memory. By the time he began to attract the attention of the others in the room again, his face once again held the smile of a kindly and worry free young man. One who took very little seriously, and one in whom others loved to confide because he generously spilled out innumerable details and goings on of the Royal court, and familiar details of persons whose names were known even here.

“God save me.” he said into his mug. An hour or two of this. First just smiles, and then a few of the more effusive villagers speaking politely to him about inane and foolish subjects, about which no one beyond this valley cared or knew. Then he could finally go to bed…

 

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         Syna paused, because to his great surprise, Calum was still leaning over the table. Or more correctly, it looked like he was attempting to push Braun through the chair. Syna also noticed that Bram no longer looked angry. He looked as pale as the others when Calum finally stood. Then Syna heard him clearly.

“You are correct about one thing Bram. You be far too old for me to take your foolishness up with your grandfather. So I’ll accept your suggestion that from now on, you and I will simply settle your little problems together.”

The look on Bram’s face made it plain to Syna that it had not been exactly the idea Bram had welcomed to put across. Given the look on Calum’s face as he turned, Syna could feel an exceedingly rare moment of empathy for Bram, and could not blame him for looking so pale.

Syna took a moment to whisper an apology to the man he had fallen on, both out of a contrite desire to make amends, and to make the table of sullen young men wait a little longer; so, Calum was there when he turned, smiling down at him, as if nothing whatever had occurred.

“Are you quite well, lad?” he asked, in a normal tone.

“Yes, Calum. Sorry.” Syna said, not knowing what else to say.

“Nonsense, Lad. That was well done. Anyone else might have wound up on the table, amongst these kindly people’s dinner, and not the floor. Just be careful, it’s crowded tonight.” Then Calum Squeezed his shoulder, letting him know the real meaning of the message that he need not worry.

“Thank you.” Syna said softly, to the pat on his shoulder, once again grateful the friendship Calum and Dara had shown so valuable, and once again sad that it was needed.

“Here is your Ale Bram.” Syna said in a flat, but pleasant enough voice, hoping that it sounded as if he was unaware of all that had transpired. “If you need anything at all, just let me know. Enjoy.” He smiled faintly, and turned to look for Keely.

Across the room, Calum, Dara, Jada, and several of the elder villagers, who had watched all that had transpired, noted that not once had any of the young men looked at Syna. It was a bad sign.

 
 

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     Syna was sitting with Keely at the table in the back. The few patrons who were left would more likely require the services of Calum and the older stable hand, rather than the two of them. They were done for the evening, and like many who had seen the great battles of the day, they tarried on the field reliving for each other the moments they had seen.

“You two did very well.” Dara said to them. “Thank you, Keely, and Thank you Syna.” She said sincerely, not noticing the rare slip in how she addressed him. Then to his surprise, Keely wrapped her arm about his neck, and pressed her lips briefly to his cheek.

“I’m Sorry if those stupid brutes hurt you, Syna. I know you hurt yourself trying not to dump that tray on Old Fredrick. I should have taken their table. It was just so busy. I wanted to claw that Bram’s eyes out for tripping you.” She squeezed him again. “If he had hurt you, I would have.” she finished.

Dara laughed. “I don’t think they would have and any eyes left to scratch, Keely, if Calum thought they had hurt him. More likely we’d all have been ordered by the elders to crawl about the floor looking for them so they wouldn’t get stepped on, after your father had knocked them out of their heads, of course.”

They all laughed, as Dara shook her head. “I really thought that ass Bram had gone too far, when he started to talk back to your father.” She sighed. “I’m glad he held his temper, though none could have blamed him.”

Syna and Keely agreed. So far as Syna could remember, only one man had ever been stupid enough to push the gentle Calum to the point he had to act. The man never did it again. Not that he had much chance to do so, flying through the air into the middle of the square. He would have stayed there too, had not one of the elders ordered two of the village men to drag him to the stream well along the north road. Both messages had been clear enough. The man had not returned.

Syna could feel his insides tighten, even as his laughter subsided. Dara’s eyes were on him, telling him that the moment he had mostly been to busy to dread had arrived. “I’m so sorry I startled you, Dara. You’ve all been so kind to me.” he whispered low enough to be sure that none might hear. “I did not mean to make you angry with me. You've all been far too good to me…”

Dara stopped him, with a shake of her head. “Is that what you think, child?” She said. “I’m not mad at you. Certainly not for how you were dressed.” She reached her hand out to take his. “It’s as much my fault as anyone’s.”

Syna began to respond with concern. “It’s no one’s fault, certainly not yours, Dara. I’m the one who...” He tried to get the words out, struggling to keep the tears that he suddenly felt behind his lids from escaping.

“Syna.” Dara said warmly. “I myself tied the ribbon in your hair. I’m not mad at you.” she looked down at the table, making it obvious that she was having one of those vanishingly rare moments, when even she did not know exactly what to say. Then smiling at him. “If I had been able to keep my wits about me, I might have said the polite thing, which was that you looked very pretty, actually.” She smiled again.

Syna tried again. “I must have surprised you so. I’ll work for free until I’ve paid for the crockery. My father will understand.”

Dara only shook her head. “He does Syna. He is a very good man, you know. He told me what you had told him, and he does understand.”

Syna’s eyes began to grow. “You saw him?”

“Yes.” She said kindly. “He came to the door just after you went up with Keely. He followed you into the village, to make sure that you would be safe.” Her heart went out to the child, as she watched in his face all the emotions struggling to resolve themselves inside. “He told me what you said to Ladd and the children. He also said that one of the reasons Chandi hates you so, is because they love you so much, and for your easy way with all the children. Most children don’t like her you know.”

“Most adults, either.” Keely said earning her a mild look of disapproval from her mother, for having spoken so about an elder -- but it softened, quickly. Keely and Dyre were both old enough now, that would soon have no need to put up with the likes of Chandi simply due to their own youth.

“Anyway, I think we had better not dally. Tomorrow looks like it will be a full day, with a very early start.” She smiled over at the two, in their weariness. “Can you come again tomorrow, Dyre? I could sure use the help. You can stay the night here, and we can send word to your father in the morning”

He shook his head, and pushing himself back, he said, “Of course I’ll help tomorrow, but I should go home. Father will worry, tonight of all nights. I’ll go and change. The hill will be steep tonight.”

He did not see the thoughtful look that Dara had given him, or the look of surprise on Keely’s face, because his eyes were closed with exhaustion.

“Do you really want to change now?” Dara said with a strange tone in her voice.
“Into what, child?”

“Into my clothes.” he said, still not thinking more clearly than he could see through his lids.

“You can keep the clothes you have on, Child. They were to be your solstice eve gift from us, for all the work you’ve done for Calum and I. However, given how well you did tonight, I want you to have them now. Especially since your father told me you lost your last shirt.”

“Thank you, Dara.” He said, looking back at her again. “But that is too kind by far. I’ll change, and wash something when I get home.”

“If you really wish to change, you may.” She said, looking at him in wonder. “But the clothes are a gift. Calum wanted you to have them as well.”

Sighing, Syna simply thanked her again. It would prevent him from having to wear damp stained clothes in the morning. Then thinking better of his manners, “If you are really sure. After all, I did cause you to break all those bowls today. I will work for those. I didn’t mean to startle you.”

Exasperated and worried at his desire to once again change, Dara snapped a little “Oh for the blessings of mother earth. That was my own clumsiness, child. You didn’t frighten me. It’s just that I thought your moth…” Dara stopped herself too late.

Syna’s widening eyes would have stopped her in any event. At once she realized that he had not known. How could he! He had been so young when his mother had disappeared.

“Syna, it’s not your fault!” She tried to recover, all the while damning herself for the fatigue that made her speak the very thought she had sworn to Calum should remain a secret. That the shock had been in turning to she her beloved life-long friend returned to her. Suddenly, she fully understood.

“Dyre, It’s no fault of yours. It was my…” she tried, but she stopped talking as soon as he spoke.

Syna remembered the look on her face. He also thought of some of the things that Ladd had said, where before he’d been too nervous to pay them enough attention. That was when he realized…

“My father.” he said fearfully. “He must have…” Then his head sunk down again, as he realized how he must have hurt his father that day. He hadn’t known.

Looking up, with tears in his eyes, he spoke. “I have to go home, now,” and stood up. Keely stood as well, and taking his hand, she led him upstairs, past Calum who was just coming down. Dara had a brief thought, that if any other young man in the village had tried to accompany their daughter up those stairs, he would have left the inn via a window, and not one on the ground floor.

“He figured it out.” Dara said in response to Calum’s questioning look. “I let it slip.” Dara said sadly. “He won’t stay. He’s going to change.”

Calum sighed “I was going to send the Stable man along with him to the outskirts of the village, but I’ll take him.”

Dara just nodded and patted her husband’s arm to show her great gratitude. “He’s like my own, Calum. Since Aria was lost.”

“He’s a good boy, Dara.” Calum said, and then they sat silently, waiting for the pair to come down.

Which they did shortly, Syna once again dressed, as he had been when he arrived. Once more he looked beautiful, and even though the eyes of the others were too often on him, he had no real feeling for why other than his belief they thought him odd.

“Good night, Calum. Dara.” He finally said, his hands subconsciously tugging the vest over the top of his skirt. As worried as he was, he felt better, now that he had changed again. Even thought they looked at him so frankly. “Thank you for Bram. I’ll be more careful not to give them the chance again, but thank you.” He smiled sincerely at the big man.

The big man heaved himself up to his feet. “Not good night yet, I’m afraid. I’m going to walk you to the road. I think we’ve had enough problems for one day.” he said with a little humor.

“Calum.” Syna persuaded. “Please, there is no need for that. I will be fine. I’ve walked the way home, many nights. I’ll be fine, I promise. You have much to do here. I can’t take you away.”

“More nonsense, La…” Calum paused unexpectedly. “I need to stretch my legs and get some air anyway. Besides I know you’ll be fine already. It’s for Dara that I’m going to take my walk in the same direction as you.” This caused Dara to snort behind her husband’s shoulder. Then silently she walked over to Dyre, and taking the green ribbon from where it was tucked into the top of the package he carried, gently turned him by the shoulders, and retied the bow at the top of his head.

When she turned him back, his eyes were all that could speak.

“Good night Child. Be careful, and don’t wake your father if he’s asleep.” Then turning to Calum, said “I’ll be waiting for you. Hurry home.” She said, placing a hand briefly on his arm, before taking Keely by the hand into the Kitchen.

“Night.” Keely said, and quickly pressed her cheek to his as she passed, and was gone.

 

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     Calum was silent on the walk up the road, looking about in the light of a Moon long past full. Syna began to wonder if it was simply because of the strangeness that he had wrapped about himself; but when he did speak first to Calum, the man always answered pleasantly enough. Therefore, it was with relief that they walked in silence along the road that lead to the path to his father’s farm. A silence only broken by an occasional comment from either of the pair, ended with an affectionate pat on the shoulder of the smaller, when they turned the last corner that brought the way to the path in sight.

“Night, Calum.” Syna said to the other man’s nod, and then walked on past Ladd’s farm toward the path. As he reached it, he could just see Calum’s back, as he turned finally toward home. The long climb up the hill was darker, under the trees, and but still familiar enough for him to spend most of his thoughts on what he would say to his father. It was fruitless. He had no idea of how to heal the hurt he must have caused his father. He only knew that he had to try.

The call of a startled night bird shook him out of his misery. Laughing at his timidity, he then realized that there were very few places in the entire kingdom where it might be safe to travel about at night. He knew he was in one of them.

He began to wonder about that a little, that even wearing a skirt, and blouse, his most pressing danger was that he might snag the hem of his skirt on a root, or the beautiful bow on a low branch. Once more, he remembered to say a silent prayer of thankfulness to the nameless spirit that seemed to watch over this valley, for the peaceful place he had been fortunate enough to be born in, and lifting his skirt slightly to keep it as clean as possible, as he made his way up the hill.

 
 

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     The lights of the cabin shown a long way down the hill, lighting the path through the yard, as much as did the moon as it skirted the tops of the southern end of the valley. Syna pushed the door open, to see his father sitting in his chair by the fire. In those moments, he entered, and closed the door behind him; he could see many emotions race once more over his father’s face, as his eyes moved over Syna from top to bottom several times.

“Hello father.” he began in yet another whisper, and then realized that for all his thoughts he still had not decided what to say. His father just nodded, watching him.

“Dara told me that you went into the village tonight. She said that you followed me to make sure I arrived in safety.” Syna said weakly, not knowing why that had come first.

His father nodded again.

Syna just felt helpless, and adrift, unable to say what he needed to, because he didn’t know how. “Dara gave me some clothes for tomorrow. I’ll put them in my room, and I’ll make you some dinner, if you like.” He tried to smile as he said it.

This time his father didn’t even move, although Syna knew he was listening to him.

“Father? Do you want me to change now?” Syna asked his voice, and his heart tearing, just like the shirts that he had tried so hard to mend. Even so, he could do no more to keep the pain from his voice. Like the pieces of the shirts that still lay folded on the chair in the corner: too many threads had been torn by the thorns that pricked at him; threads that had been worn too thin by too many hurts to withstand this final assault on his very soul. He just couldn’t hold the tears, as his father simply sat there and looked at him.

“Dara told me that she thought…” He struggled to get it out, “That you thought that I was mother.” His father’s shoulders and chest heaved, confirming the awful truth, more awful still than all his other fears combined..

Going closer to his father, he was barely able to whisper. “I’m so sorry. I’ll never do it again. I had no idea you would… I would never hurt you like that on purpose.” He said resting his hand on his father’s shoulder. “Do you want me to leave?”

His father was on his feet, and reaching out drew Syna to him. “Leave?” he heard him whisper. “By all the gods, no. I lost one of you, because I…” he strained as he patted on the arm, and Syna clutched back. “How could you think that I would want you to leave?”

Syna was past listening. He only knew that for the first time in years, his father was holding him; holding him to make it OK, just as both his mother and father would often do when he was little.

Finally, his father held him back to look once more. “It wasn’t your fault, what I thought, Dyre.” His father said. “I guess that I’ll just never forgive myself that you’ve had to do without…, so much.”

Syna nodded, mostly by simple reflex, before thinking of what he wanted to say. “It wasn’t your fault that she went missing, father.” he said softly. “I never blamed you. I never blamed her. I’m sure it wasn’t her fault. She would never have left us if she had a choice. I know she loved us. I know she did. You are as good to me as she was.”

Finally, on seeing his father nod, he realized that somehow his heart had found the thing he had needed to say. It did not help the pain they both shared, but it proved they both still felt it just the same.

“I’ll put this away.” he murmured more softly than even his father could clearly hear, as he turned to his room to change his clothes, vowing never ever to do this again. Behind him his father moved toward his own room, without saying more, but Syna did not see.

Upon entering his room, Syna stumbled into something that he did not quite see either, having just been near the brightness of the fire. Rubbing his shins, he moved back to the fireplace, and taking a candle walked back into his room. There on the floor of his bedroom, stood the chest that had held his mother’s things. Syna sat on the bed, and just looked at it for some time, before looking about the room. On the small table by his bed lay a mirror, and a brush that had been his mother’s.

Looking further, he could see that his father had moved the mirror as well, to make room for the chest. On his bed, were the pillow and the throw that his mother had used, which he remembered had been wrapped high on a shelf, preciously set aside for all these many years that she’d been gone.

Shaking now, he gingerly rose, and opened the lid to the chest, but was unable to see inside for a moment, because of the dim light and the tears that filled his eyes. Shaking them clear, he placed his hand in upon the soft garments there, and looked finally to see the small box that he knew contained his mother’s small collection of jewelry; but, it was the thing that lay topmost on that box that filled him most. It was a single flower, having bloomed late in the year, and which his father must have left — for him.

Clutching it to his breast, Syna moved out into the common room. Not seeing his father there, he made his way to the closed door of this father and mother’s room. Before he knocked, he leaned close, because he thought he heard….

It took some time, over the quiet noises of the fire, and the rushing in his own ears, but finally he could discern the strange sound. In all his years he had never heard it before, so it was not surprising that it took so long to recognize what it was.

Syna could take no more. He had tried so hard, and nothing he did would help. The only thing he’d ever found to make him happy, had only made it worse. Now his father…

He had to get out...

His feet carried him to the door before he knew it, and from there, across his father’s fields. Years of running over these fields made his feet sure, even though his eyes were all but blind. He was already past the fields and well along the path behind the house before he slowed, but still hurrying to where only his feet might know.

“It was always me.” he sobbed as he ran. “My Fault.” He gasped his pain out loud, because he had no place left inside to keep it in. They had finally filled him up, and the hurts were too many, leaving no room for even one more; but most especially, not one so much bigger than even he could have imagined. He cried until it became a chant: “My fault. My fault…, mine.”

Like the terror, the trees were closing in now, too. Too close to avoid, they tugged and tore at him, causing him to stagger away from each encounter blindly as he fought to free himself. The skirt he clutched so tightly with one hand, began to catch roots and shrubs as he staggered off the path.. These soon threatened to knock him off his feet, tugging him first in one direction, or knocking him off in another - till he was staggering about the forest like a drunken man.

Still he couldn’t outrun the horror that was inside of him.

In the end when the considerable strengths of his grief and youth gave out, he fell sobbing. “They were right.” he moaned to the only person who could hear. “They were right.” he panted and gasped into a blackness that had finally taken over his eyes in spite of the slender illumination of the moon low above the distant hills..

He could run no father. So, with all the venom the name had ever contained, and all the breathe that was in him — he screamed.

“Syna!”

He screamed to the trees, and to the hills just beyond. He screamed inside his mind, and to the very stars themselves. He screamed until he finally succumbed to the enveloping smell of the damp earth he squeezed in his hands, and the greatest mercy he had ever known: The blackness that finally overtook him…

 
 

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     -S.L.M.
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Comments

My Heart Aches For Syna/ Dyre

jengrl's picture

My heart goes out to Syna for what she has had to endure. People are so cruel to those who are different. It makes me wonder why the truth about Syna's mother was hidden away for years. It has just caused more pain for Syna thinking that she had hurt her father and going through the ridicule that the villagers have caused.

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The Unicorn's Gift 4

Quite an amazing chapter. That Dyre is a sweet lad. He has friends at the inn willing to help him. Seeing the angst and turmoil of Dyre/Syna because of his Father was top notch. You have created a wonderful story here, thanks for posting it.
May Your Light Forever Shine

    Stanman
May Your Light Forever Shine

SYNA!!

That anguished scream says so much. The blessing enjoyed by the valley seems to come at the cost of Syna's happiness.

What a wonderful story, so many unanswered threads and issues, Mom, Bram, Keely, Jada and of course the Unicorn. The emotion you bring to the story and the insight into each player is a true gift.

Thank you for sharing.

As always,

Dru

As always,

Dru

Overwhelmed

Poor Syna, did he hear his father weeping in his room? Was that the strange sound he had never heard before? And now he is running through the forest in the night, wracked with guilt, as he thinks it's all his fault. You have described his inner turmoil so well we can see how he has become overwhelmed by his emotions, in spite of the love and support of his father and his friends.

The glimpse behind Jada's mask as "a kindly and worry free young man" is an intriguing twist. He has special talents and has been selected to investigate the cause of the village's good fortune. What a complex plot you are weaving here, Sarah, and what a joy to read!

God... I...

I'm still crying after that last part. It reminds me too much of the pain I felt that at fifteen caused me to run away and try to kill myself, not just my own pain, but the knowledge that who I am hurt those I love...

Powerful. Too much so for me, but a neccessary catalyst for the story.

Melanie E.

Why does no one talk of his lost mother?

There is a dark secret here. What awful secret did Dara partially reveal?

Is the blessing of the unicorn purchased by the pain or even the human sacrifice of the most beautiful and kind person in the valley? Is that part of the reason Dyre is so torrmented, the whipping boy for the mean spirts of the valley?

Is that hateful woman who hit Dyre/Syna with the rock merely jealous of how the little children love Dyre or is is something else? Was mom the unicorn or it's child and could only stay in human form for a short few years. Unicorns have great magic and one power in the stories often is shapeshifting. Is Dyre TG or is ther another reason he so resembles his or her missing mother? Why is the father so guilty about the mom. He seems to blame himself for her disappearance?

I have more questions than answers and I LOVE IT!

This bit from the story got me to cry.

>>

Shaking now, he gingerly rose, and opened the lid to the chest, but was unable to see inside for a moment, because of the dim light and the tears that filled his eyes. Shaking them clear, he placed his hand in upon the soft garments there, and looked finally to see the small box that he knew contained his mother’s small collection of jewelry; but, it was the thing that lay topmost on that box that filled him most. It was a single flower, having bloomed late in the year, and which his father must have left – for him.

>>

That bit about the flower had my crying for my late mother and all the regrets and joys of my life.

You don't post often but when you do it is gold. I wish I could craft a tale a fraction as well as you.

John in Wauwatosa

John in Wauwatosa

A Classic in the making

We still don't know the time or place but they are irrelevant. The love, hate, pain and care are timeless and can be anywhere and everywhere.

Sarah, I am in awe of the quality of your writing. The tension is building and I'm on the edge of my seat just waiting for further developments. It's all I can do to restrain myself from reading ahead when each part is published.

Truly a classic story unfolding.

Susie

We have a hint that Syna's Father...

Jezzi Stewart's picture

... believes he himself had something to do with Aira's disappearance. We know now that Jada is much more than what he appears to others. Syna is a teenager so, of course, everything revolves around her (not meant as a slam, but just a statement of fact - it goes with the age, for the best and worst of them) so he interprets his fathers crying (of course I am ssuming that's the sound Syna heard - dangerous :-) is because of what he/she has done - all the misery of everyone is his/her fault. All true? We'll have to wait and see.

My guess is that it is Jada who finds the exhausted, devastated Syna. Hopefully she is just sleeping and has not retreated into a comatose state (Unless that's what it takes for her to receive info from A. The unicorn. B. The Goddess C. Her mom D. all of the above.)

Keep these chapters coming writer gal !!

"All the world really is a stage, darlings, so strut your stuff, have fun, and give the public a good show!" Miss Jezzi Belle at the end of each show

BE a lady!

over the hills and far away

and once again you fail to disappoint

A great chapter, with heart wrenching events. But are those hoofbeats i hear sounding through the hills?

Lots of love and still waiting the next chapter,
Amber

The Unicorn's Gift

Sarah,

Once again you have surpassed yourself in descriptive narrative.

This is a wonderful story and I very much look forward to reading some more.

The quality is such that you should consider publishing.

Hugs
Sue

Yes Yes Yes

terrynaut's picture

I do so love this story. *sigh*

My heart aches for Syna. She's just got to have a happy ending. She's got to!

I like to think I know what's going on with the lucky valley but I'll hold my thoughts. I don't care if I guess correctly. The writing is that good. :)

Please keep up the great work.

Hugs

- Terry

An amazing story

You really outdid yourself with this one.

I found myself reading this at work... literally behind my boss' back. I had to find out what was going to happen, and of course was afraid that the thugs were going to beat Syna up on the way home. I'm glad that didn't happen.

What you've done is really fine... it has a fairy-tale quality, but none of the silly Disney-like nonsense that have ruined the fairy tales.

I'm looking forward to finishing the story, but at the same time, I don't want it to end.

Your friend,

Kaleigh

The pacing of the story is

The pacing of the story is really good and you have some excellent imagery. I am a bit sorry I came to this late, but I'm here now.

Heather

We are the change that will save the world.

Heather

We are the change that will save the world.

Dyre's Hurts

Oh Sarah, I am hurting so badly for Dyre. The tears are falling so much. You write so well that I just fall into your characters, and I have fallen into Dyre/Syna. Oh that the next chapter will find us alive again.
Hugs, Wendy Marie

Wendy Marie

Speechless

joannebarbarella's picture

Probably some of you will soon wish I was.

What a chapter!

Anybody who has worked in a pub or tavern will have recognised that sort of organised chaos described in the first part of this episode.

We are surely going to see more of the nastiness of Bram and his gang. Why do we have to have such cruel fools in our midst?

The difference in societies not withstanding.

Like I said before, isn't it unfair that I can read this story uninterrupted because I wasn't smart enough to read it when it was posted?

Joanne

Poor Syna. She is just so mixed up right now.

I don't know how many in the TG/TS community have these mixed feelings, that their plight or predicament is their fault. But I can assure you that everything you are, is not your fault. Just like it is not Syna's mother's fault for disappearing, or Syna's father's fault for not remarrying, and it is definitely not Syna's fault for how she looks or who she is. But, she has to fight these demons so she can be the best woman she can be. The town bullies need to be aware though. I don't think they will have the power they once had over Syna anymore. Nicely written.

"With confidence and forbearance, we will have the strength to move forward."

Love & hugs,
Barbara

"If I have to be this girl in me, Then I have the right to be."

"With confidence and forbearance, we will have the strength to move forward."

Love & hugs,
Barbara

"If I have to be this girl in me, Then I have the right to be."

Poor Syna, it's not her fault!

Ole Ulfson's picture

Sarah,

This chapter makes me think of my favorite saying and true belief: "We are each as God made us!!!" If you want to substitute nature or evolution or anything else for God, I don't care, nor, I doubt, does God. I think He/She doesn't care about names. (Well that ought to draw some fire)

As to the story, you're so good, Sarah, at creating suspense! Each chapter ends in a cliff hanger, making the reader want/have to rush to the next chapter to see what will transpire. You do it so skillfully that that it just seems natural and seamless, but I'll bet natural, like in makeup, requires a lot of thought and hard work. You do it superbly!

Thank you,

Ole

We are each exactly as God made us. God does not make mistakes!

Gender rights are the new civil rights!