Wings Over Tremeirchson

Chapter 8: Passion

Neste couldn't climb aboard the wagon, of course, so Hoel lifted her onto the back. Her legs hung off the edge of the rough plank bed. On either side, the hard spoked wheels rattled and lurched. The same wagon delivered produce, any large orders from town, and, of course, injured riders who fell from the sky. The farmer who owned the non-winged horses drove, and Hoel sat next to her. He didn't say anything, didn't touch her, but his support kept her calm. Thank Rhiannon he'd had the good sense not to offer to fly her home.

The rough ride jostled her leg, which throbbed painfully by the time they reached Neste's house. Glynis raced out the door, a kitchen towel in her hand. "Oh, Neste, Mum worried when I discovered you'd gone. What were you thinking?"

Neste admired how her sister emphasized their mother's worry. She must know her own worry wouldn't move Neste at all. "I belong in the barn, Glynis," she said, but the words felt hollow.

Hoel helped her inside and got her settled in bed under Glynis's watchful eye. Neste restrained a groan as Hoel pressed against bruised ribs. With his face close to hers, he said, "Nice having you in the barn today."

She no longer rode for him. Did he want her there because she would be his wife? Neste didn't think she could go from rider to silent support. Before she could respond, though, he'd straightened and patted her throbbing leg. She winced.

Hoel gave her a quick farewell and left. She heard him stop in her mother's doorway and inquire about her health. Mum would like that. Then his bootsteps made their way into the front room and out the door. The Aerial Games were closing, and he needed to be there. He couldn't stay, even if she wanted his company.

Only then did Neste notice her pewter tankard, emptied of its flowers. "Glynis!" she yelled. Her sister must have been in their mother's room because she arrived immediately. "Where are my flowers?" Neste demanded.

"Those white weeds? If you want proper flowers, I'll cut and arrange some..."

"Those were mine," Neste howled. She hadn't seen Elen for days. The garlic flowers had wilted, and no new ones replaced them. Somehow she and Elen had remained connected as long as the flowers had been in her room.

"Maybe you overdid it this morning," Glynis said in a chilly voice. She left the room and headed for the kitchen. Neste stared at the empty tankard and clenched her fists around her pillow so she wouldn't cry with frustration and loss.

With the exertion of the morning over, a pleasant satisfaction relaxed Neste's muscles. She wouldn't admit her exhaustion to anyone. Noises reached her from Glynis in the kitchen. Dinner would be soon. Her eyes closed long before her tray arrived.

When Neste awoke, her dinner sat on the table next to her bed, cold. Shaking off the disorientation that a nap in the middle of the day caused, she reached for a roll. It would be better cold than the soup. Her stomach growled for more, but before she could decide whether to eat the cold soup or call Glynis for something hot, someone approached her room. The shuffling steps halted before Neste could see the person. Curious, she watched the doorway.

Elen slipped into view, her eyes looking back over her shoulder. Her footsteps carried her forward, and she turned to face Neste. With a small sigh of relief, she half-whispered, "I made it. No small feat, you understand. I've come by every day, but that witch stopped me."

"It's wonderful to see you," Neste said with a warm smile. She, too, kept her voice soft although she couldn't imagine Glynis physically removing Elen now that she'd arrived.

Elen hung back near the doorway. Her short dark hair peeked out from under her hastily tied cap, and she wore an older gown, not one of her best. She offered Neste a small bouquet with a shrug of apology. The leaves of the garlic flower were spotted with yellow, the flowers smaller than usual. "I think the plant misses your support."