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Chapter Four

"Garvin Lseiand was no ordinary man.

Perhaps, if you know this story well,

you are aware of his secret.

But, read on, for I will not reveal it

until his lips speak the words …"

—The Pasegean Scrolls

Tierna turned to Samandia, a dazed look on her face. "Wha’ just happen’d here?"

The other three also looked to Samandia, questioning her. "Sam, who was that woman? Will she really give us everything we wish for—everything we ever wanted?" Kessah’s eyes were bright with hope of a life with something more than that which she already knew, and Samandia smiled on the inside, if not the outside. I don’t know what Sidhe’s intentions are … maybe all she wishes is for us to live the life we were meant for—as great heroes!

Samandia passed her gaze over all four women: hopeful, excited, thankful women. She smiled to them on the outside now, and spoke. "Yes, what Sidhe promised you will be delivered … for some of you, perhaps it already has." She looked to Llyne as she spoke, and the girl blushed at the thought of that which she wanted more than anything. "But, we must return home. Our parents will be worried and we need to rest, as we do not know when Sidhe will call upon us to serve her."

Nodding their agreement, the five witches began to walk back to Fernan on the track Samandia had met Sidhe on all those years before—those years had changed her in the ways they change every person who realises their destiny before it has been placed upon them. But, Samandia had never changed so much as in the last hour … she had lost much of her pessimistic attitude, an attitude which might have saved them all.

Sidhe’s influence had stolen Samandia’s spirit.

* * * * *

Garvin Lseiand stood nervously at the door to Llyne’s home, trying to muster up enough courage to knock. He raised his hand, then let it fall softly on the hard wood, making no more noise than the sound of a slight breeze over the Lanian moors.

I’ve got to stop being such a coward! Garvin thought, and he tensed his arm before rapping loudly on the oak door.

No answer.

Sighing, Garvin turned away from the door and sat on the stone steps, deciding to wait until Llyne was home—and hoped that Mrs. Penwhite wouldn’t return first. Funny, if she knew who I really was … he shook his head, clearing his mind of that thought. One day—soon—he’d tell Llyne the truth. He’d have to, if he wanted her for anything other than a fling—and he did. Soon, Garvin—as soon as possible.

"Garvin!"

He glanced upwards, and saw a flash of emerald green eyes and wispy golden hair. Llyne! He stood up, cracking his knee joint in the process and nearly tripping over and uneven bit in the wood. She giggled at his clumsiness, and Garvin’s face went scarlet. Gazing at Llyne, he then noticed that she wasn’t the only one giggling.

He saw Kessah Darvosten, a twinkle in her eye, smothering a laugh; Catalina Sheperd averting her eyes with her hand covering her mouth, hiding a smile … even Samandia Darvosten, known to many as the "Frosty Wench"(a name she detested, now that Garvin came to think of it, if not for it’s portrayal of herself but in the way it was spoken), was shaking in small spasms—a silent, but not invisible form of laughter. His face became nearly as red as the fabled spring of Keori’s blood near the Hambani village, many miles westwards.

Llyne, with a wave to her friends and a smile to Garvin grasped the young man’s arm and unlocked the door to her home. The door sprung open and she dragged a bewildered Garvin inside. "Wait here," she ordered and she dashed up the staircase, leaving Garvin standing rather awkwardly in the foyer below. He stared around the humble furnishings of the room, and felt rather ashamed of his own circumstances. To think that these simple folk know nothing but a life such as this—rustic, informal—yet, in it’s own way, more beautiful than all the Chailan silk, Sonaran gold, Nulian carvings and Purna stone which the nobility enjoy throughout Arsinuae. And that I wish to take one of them away from that? My selfishness is my downfall!

A noise came from the stairs, and Garvin turned to see Llyne descending them, her cheeks pink, her eyes emerald and her stance decidedly regal. Yet, who am I to say that I am stealing her from her world? How do I know that she is not already a part of mine? He stared up at Llyne, not taking his eyes away for a moment. Her cheeks darkened, and a nervous smile crossed her face. Her short hair looked soft and flossy in the late afternoon sunshine glinting through the second-storey window, shining on the golden waves. She’s so beautiful … I don’t deserve such a glorious creature. Surely she can only be teasing me with her affections!

Llyne reached the foyer, and stood in front of Garvin, her smile faltering. His dark-brown eyes searched hers, and his gaze was electric. Then, the spell was broken by a loud slam of the front door behind them. Both jumped, and Llyne turned to see her family standing behind her, quite irate. Her father hadn’t noticed her presence yet, but her mother, Bronwen Penwhite, was furious. Her younger brother, Killian, looked like he was about to roll on the floor with laughter.

"Llyne Annia Penwhite! Where in Arsinuae have you been?! Half the town’s been out looking for you and those other girls! I mean, for you to be in the company of Catalina Sheperd, of all people! You know what they say about her drunken father and what he does with those women across the river! Them Darvosten’s are mighty flighty too, ‘specially that Kessah. Whereas Samandia’s the queen of ice! Plus, you—" Markhus Penwhite nudged his wife and pointed to Garvin, an apologetic grin on his face.

Bronwen gaped at Garvin, speechless. Llyne looked shocked, but Garvin simply smiled back at Mr. Penwhite, then said: "Mr. and Mrs. Penwhite … a pleasure. And you too, Killian." He glanced down at the younger boy. "However, please excuse myself and Llyne. I need to speak with her privately for a moment. Good day." With that, Garvin and Llyne escaped into the parlour, and he sat her down on the small wooden bench there, which was covered with a knitted blanket. Glancing at the bare surroundings, then back at Llyne he began to speak. "Llyne, I need to ask you a question. Will—"

Before he could finish, she exclaimed, "Whatever it is, the answer’s yes!" She threw her arms around his neck, so happy that she could barely breathe.

Nearly choking from Llyne’s embrace, but pleased all the same, Garvin said, "So, you’ll come to Chail with me?"

She pulled away. "What? Why would I want to go to Chail?"

Garvin rolled his eyes. "To meet my parents, of course!"

Llyne sighed. And I thought he wanted to marry me! That’s me, stupid Llyne … unable to understand anything her one-and-only suitor throws her way! "But, Garvin … I thought your parents lived in Menilan!"

"No, I told you at the dance last night! Weren’t you listening?"

Llyne narrowed her eyes. "Well, you probably mistook me for Kessah Darvosten!"

Garvin’s eyes widened. "What? Kessah Darvosten? What are you talking about?!"

"I saw you, so don’t deny it! You were flirting with Kessah Darvosten last night! You didn’t pay any attention to me! You didn’t even dance with me … not once!" Tears sprung from the corners of Llyne’s eyes, and she sunk into the coverlet, sobbing.

Garvin placed his hand on her shoulder. "Llyne, I didn’t mean it! I don’t want Kessah—I love you!"

She raised her face from the blanket, her eyes red. "And why should I believe you, Garvin Lseiand?"

He stared down at her, his face serious. "Look into my eyes, beautiful Llyne. I love you. Come to Chail with me."

Her heart melted at his words, and she nodded. "Alright, I’ll go. But only because you love me." The smile spread across her face again, and Garvin pulled her towards him, lowered his mouth to hers, and kissed Llyne until her mother came in and nearly fainted at the sight.

* * * * *

In another place, in a cave where time did not exist, Sidhe Pasege watched this scene with an evil thought in her mind. Such affairs of the heart need a chaperone … or maybe three.

A laugh escaped her lips, and she fell onto the small cot beside her, thinking of what she had planned.

 

Copyright 2000 M. Lees

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