Marrok

Chapter 18

Once Nance had calmed herself enough to get herself cleaned up, Marrok had insisted she rest for a few hours and allow Ruthie to take over in the kitchen. Her insistent allegations of Maifynn being a witch had not helped his own state of mind as he wrestled with the recent nightmares he had been having of the old woman he had met in Fewton.

To clear his mind of such thoughts he took Farren out, joined by Saul, and rode to the woodland that edged the outskirts of White Haven's boundaries. The morning mist had not yet risen above the canopy of the trees, clinging like a ghostly blanket, and only reminded Marrok of the things that haunted his dreams.

"It does not look as if the ride has helped to lift your mood," commented Saul as he dismounted onto the damp grass.

"When I returned from the crusades and landed at the port of Fewton I ran into an old woman. Two boys had stolen a bloodstone charm from her and I helped to apprehend the one, who had it in his pocket. She traced the stone upon my palm and told me strange things about love and fate. I took no notice until now," Marrok replied, taking Farren's rein and walking with Saul to the woodland's edge.

"What do you mean, she told you strange things?" asked Saul.

"I've woken several nights now, after seeing her in my dreams. It's the same thing over and over again. I'm beginning to wonder if she too, was a witch."

"You mean you do think that Maifynn is a witch?" asked Saul, his eyebrow raised.

"I don't know what to believe," Marrok confessed. "Nance is convinced of Maifynn with the milk and now the bats. I can't say I blame her either."

They found a fallen tree covered in moss and sat down, letting go of the horses' reins so that they could graze freely. They sat in silence for a while, listening to the chorus of the birds as they competed for the branches that loomed above them. A sparrowhawk circled on the thermals above, tilting the span of its wings with effortless grace before soaring higher toward the clouds and disappearing into the distance.

"Witches, faeries, and boggarts," mused Saul. "They are stories told to children to scare them, not stuff of real life. Do you really believe it has some meaning?" he asked.

Marrok broke off a twig that stuck out from the fallen log they were sitting upon and started to snap it into tiny pieces. "The old woman told me that I would find love, only to lose it but then I would find the love that was foretold by the stars and the moon."

"Well, first there was Seren and now there is Jane," said Saul. "What's bothering you about that? You're about to marry the woman foretold by the stars and the moon," Saul continued, wiggling his fingers in the air for dramatic effect.

Marrok glared at Saul and shook his head. "I never loved Seren."

"Oh, Marrok, I don't know what you were thinking of when you indulged Seren, but I don't think you did either. Maybe deep down you did and just didn't realise it. But what does it matter anyway? You can't be brooding over some fortune teller's tales, or Nance's for that matter. It's just nerves before the wedding, that's all," Saul put a reassuring hand on Marrok's shoulder.

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Maifynn slowly climbed the steps of her tower at the Gill's residence. It had been a long journey from Treggorne, and despite the respite of stopping along the way, her bones were now complaining about the constant jostling of her body caused by the hard movements of the carriage as it had travelled along bumpy roads and tracks.