For single days, at first, then for one night, then two. She knew her father fretted while she was gone, and that her grandmother and aunts would mutter among themselves where he could hear. But her wandering heart would not be stilled.
She tried to resist it, for a time, and become so miserable and ill that her father chased her out the door. When she returned, tired, filthy and elated by the things she had discovered, her father chucked her under the chin and said, “Come, tell me your stories by the fire.”Once, she was away for three nights and returned with a bloody gash on her forehead that would certainly scar. In her hands, she carried a pair of antlers.
She had been to the forest, she said, where she had been startled by a stag who accused her of coming to hunt his harem. She had tried to retreat but the stag had blood in his eye and insisted on a fight. She showed her father her knife, broken just above the hilt. The antlers she offered him as a gift, but when she saw his sick look and the tears in his eyes, she dropped them to the ground and hugged him fiercely.“Soon, now,” said one of her aunts, where Rhy- lee and her father could hear, and the others nodded in sage agreement.“Well enough that it happens before she marries and has a man and children to leave behind,” said her grandmother. So they were dismayed when a young man of the village named Culm- mane, a homebody like her father, offered her his shawl and she accepted. Her father refused any dowry.
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He addressed himself to Culm- mane, but his eyes were on Rhy- lee. Make best of the time you have with her, and live for what children she gives you.”Rhy- lee and Culm- mane were married and, in due course, Rhy- lee gave birth to twin sons. Yfan- wyn and Aoin- rhys they were named, when they reached their second year – . Yfan- wyn was an explorer from the moment he could wriggle out of his bassinet and squirm across the floor. Aoin- rhys was his father’s son and would watch from the bassinet, his nose tucked under the fluffy tip of his tail, while his brother went about his business. Rhy- lee loved her husband and adored her sons.
But still, she obeyed her wandering heart. Every so often, once her boys were weened, she would give it release for one night, or two, or three. But she always came back. She would touch her nose to Culm- mane’s and pick up her two boys and it was enough. As he grew older, she began to take Yfan- wyn with her. He would come back, his eyes as bright as his mother’s, and regale his grandfather and father and brother with his adventures.
Aoin- rhys preferred to stay at home with his father or, when Culm- mane was out tending the village flocks, with his grandfather. And then Culm- mane was killed. He was out searching one night for a missing ewe and her lambs and found the animals being butchered by a company of wolves, one lamb already spitted over the fire. The wolves caught Culm- mane and tossed him over a cliff.“Wolves,” Rhy- lee snarled.
For a week, she stayed home and grieved with her boys. Then she went out. She took her bow and iron traps and hunting spear. Burn Iso To Usb Ubuntu Windows Download. She was gone for six nights. When she returned, she had three wolf tails hanging from her belt.
She would not speak to her sons of what she had done, just touched her nose to each of theirs and held them and, later, sang them to sleep with a cracked and weary voice. Afterward, sitting with her beside the fire, her father chucked her under the chin, which he hadn’t done since she was a child, and looked at her with serious eyes. He held her while she wept.
He did not comment – and growled at Rhy- lee’s grandmother and aunts for their comments – when Rhy- lee tanned the three wolf tails and sewed them onto her parka. After that, Rhy- lee returned to sitting at the top of the ridge, gazing north. Yfan- wyn would sit with her, the two of them silent side- by- side, tucked up in their parkas and with their tails around their knees.
And the urge grew in Rhy- lee – long delayed – to go, to walk and not stop and fill herself up with the world. Aoin- rhys stayed home and sat on his grandfather’s lap by the fire. Aoin- rhys will stay with me.”Rhy- lee started to shake her head. She looked from one son to the other. Aoin- rhys hugged her hard, then Yfan- wyn took her hand. When they were packed, Rhy- lee’s father chased her aunts and grandmother back into their houses, then he and Aoin- rhys accompanied her and Yfan- wyn to the top of the ridge.“Thank you,” Rhy- lee said to her father, touching her nose to his. He chucked her under the chin.
He was not so frightened, yet, but she had never before taken him beyond its fringes and he knew the story of the antlers above the mantel in his grandfather’s house. Rhy- lee chose a path where the locked branches of the trees were most dense and so the undergrowth the sparsest. The leaves on the trees were brown and brittle. Many had fallen already, breaking up the canopy with patches of light. Underfoot, the moss that coated the rocks and the exposed roots of the trees was brown, too, and powder- dry. At a creek crossing under open sky, pushing through thick bracken, they came face- to- face with a doe and her fawn.
For an instant all of them froze. The doe and fawn looked at them with enormous, frightened eyes. Rhy- lee raised her hands, showing her empty palms. She caught Yfan- wyn’s arm and led him into the creek to splash across. Yfan- wyn stumbled, staring at the deer, and Rhy- lee had to drag him upright. He took in the deer’s narrow faces and frail- looking arms with their short, black- hoofed fingers, the barrels of their bodies poised on spindle legs, tensed to spring and flee on all fours. He couldn’t make them fit with the frightening tale of the stag his mother had fought in her youth.
Then they were out of the creek again and the deer were lost behind the bracken screen. At night they rested in the high boughs of a tree, where wolves couldn’t reach.“The stalking cats won’t trouble us,” Rhy- lee said. Those beasts would take a deer, but avoided people who were eaters of meat.“It feels strange to not be going home,” said Yfan- wyn, not quite willing to voice his fear.“Yes,” Rhy- lee agreed. Then the magnitude of what they were about welled up again, so much greater than any of their past wanderings together. Me too.”“I miss Father.”“Yes.” The word was a rasp of air, with barely any sound. Yfan- wyn hesitated, then confessed an idea that he had been nurturing since before his father died. She felt Yfan- wyn slip his hand into hers.“It is a long way to the end of the earth,” he said.“Yes.
It is.”Rhy- lee took in the distance to the horizon and filled her lungs.
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