The Brand of Anem

Chapter Four

There hardly was any breeze that night, of which Carson was extremely grateful. Part of him thought that maybe that meant Anem wasn't angry at him for his sins. Perhaps everything they knew as sin was not sin at all—at least not to the extent it was taught. Carson was sure there were things that were wrong, but he wondered how it measured against other sins to Anem. Surely, relations with one woman whilst unwedded was not as wrong as, say, murder to the goddess of childbearing. 

    Not two seconds after rapping slightly on her window did Margaret swing back the curtains and undo the latch. "Finally," she breathed, swinging her legs over the windowsill, fully dressed, burgundy cloak and all. She gestured for Carson to assist her out of the window, which without half a second of hesitation, he did. "C'mon." She grabbed his hand and started pulling him southeast, not quite in the direction of the old neighbor's stable.

    Carson was puzzled for only a moment concerning Margaret's behavior. She wasn't always one for leading the way, nor for planning much of anything. She always left that to Carson. Sure, it was true that she was the one that kissed him first when they were fifteen, but even then, she allowed him to take the lead when he showed interest in doing so. 

Margaret was a curious girl, Carson had thought about a year ago when they first started being so secretive with each other. She was confident enough to express how she felt without much talk between them prior and later risking rejection by initiating a kiss, but she was always more than willing to hand the reins over to Carson. She preferred not being in control, he had quickly realized, but if she wanted things a certain way, she had no qualms about taking back the reins.

    And for the first time in a very long time, Margaret had snatched the reins out of Carson's hands. 

    He gripped her hand tightly as he rasped under his breath, "Where are we going, Maggie? The stable—"

    "Not the stable," she rasped back, jerking his arm as she pointed towards the cliffs hanging on the edge of the ocean. 

    "The beach?" Carson was surprised. They'd never gone to the beach together. Not once and especially not at night. With good reason, Margaret was afraid of the dark and unpredictable waters. 

    She didn't answer Carson. She simply continued to aggressively pull him through the trees that glittered the many acres they still had to trespass before reaching the cliff edge.
Carson had an uneasy feeling deep in his gut. He dug his heels into the ground, pulling Margaret back. She stumbled with the abrupt stop. "Maggie," warned Carson, "what are you doing?"

    She looked over at the dark sea. They could already hear the rustling of the water and the crashing of the waves against the rocks at the bottom of the cliffs. Carson thought it sounded peaceful, but he wasn't so sure how Margaret perceived it. "I just want to go one time," she whispered. Then she looked back at him. "I want to go with you. You've always said the water was beautiful."

    "It's dark, Maggie," he reminded her. "The night doesn't do it justice."

    "But to be able to see it with you..." She shook her head. "I can only see it tonight if I want to do it with you at all."

    He closed his eyes. Be strong for her. If she wants to see the ocean, take her to see it. Do this one last thing for her. 

    "All right, Maggie," he whispered, opening his eyes. "I know a place we can sit and look out over the water while still being concealed."

    Her eyes twinkled, and she stepped up against him. "Really?" She smiled, wrapping her arms around his waist.
    He nodded once. The reins had been handed back to him. "I'll take you to it." And he gave her a small kiss on her lips before taking her hand and leading her along the appropriate path.