Storm Warrior

his size were echoing along the hallway and down the stairs.

Back in the kitchen, Rhys peered at what the ellyll had left on Leo’s table. A blue coffee mug had a fork and a potato peeler attached at strange angles to its handle with a carefully wound length of copper wire. The mug was half-filled with water, and in it were three smooth white stones, a sprig of something that Ranyon had called soapwort, and an ancient green toothbrush. The brush had a tiny copper bell wired to it.

“I don’t know if it’s modern art or a setup for TV reception,” grinned Leo. “I guess I’ll display it on top of the fridge, like the artwork my great-grandkids send me. I didn’t understand what the little guy was saying when he put it together, but he was sure proud of it when he was done.”

“The ellyllon do not create art. ’Tis a charm, and a strong one.”

“That? Shit, what’s it do? Is it dangerous? Goddamn, I didn’t know he was serious about that stuff.”

“Nay, it’s not dangerous, although I don’t know its purpose. A charm is designed to be helpful in some way. And an ellyll takes everything seriously, especially friendship. He’s not likely to leave your home now.”

Leo shrugged. “Yeah, I kinda figured that. But after having you around, I found I liked having someone in the house again. The kids don’t live close so they don’t visit much. And it’s pretty obvious you won’t be here much anymore.”

“The agreement is that I should stay at the farm to tend the horse. Once Lucy is fair mended, there’s little reason for Morgan to keep me about.”

The old man chuckled. “Buddy, if you believe that, I have a bridge to sell you.”

“Why would I be wanting a bridge?”

“Okay, forget the bridge. You like this woman, right?”

“More than like, ’tis true.”

“And you’ve told her that, right?”

“Not in so many words,” said Rhys, then relented. “No, not a word at all. My story is a strange one, and she thinks me touched in the head. Would you have believed me if not for Ranyon?”

“It certainly would have been harder,” Leo agreed. “But we’re friends, and that means I would have tried to believe. I would have at least entertained the possibility, even if it was only for a few minutes. Building a relationship will help Morgan be able to believe too, because she’ll know you and trust you.”

“I’m thinking I need to be patient with Morgan. She needs more time.”

“But she knows how you feel, right? You’ve let her know that much, haven’t you?”

Rhys frowned at him. “I labor on her farm. I take care of the horse, but there’s much to be done on Morgan’s land to make it yield again. Surely she knows my intentions from my work.”

“Wanna bet? Any hired hand could do the same. A stranger could do the same. Your work shows her you’re not lazy, and that’s good, but it doesn’t do a thing to make her feel romantic toward you. Maybe it was different for the women in your time, but it’s been my experience that modern women want more from their men.”

“More what? I cannot bed her until she accepts me.”

“You don’t seem to understand that there’s plenty to be done between showing off your work ethic and having sex with her. You know, when I was younger I thought like you do, that my gal simply ought to ‘know’ how I feel.” He made quotation marks in the air with his gnarled fingers. “Later, I caught on that women didn’t work that way. I needed to show her she was special to me, and after we were married, I learned I had to keep on showing it.”

“Special,” repeated Rhys.

“Exactly. I brought my Tina flowers and little surprises, did nice things for her. Hugged and kissed her and told her I loved her as often as I could. It’s always those little things, the little attentions that count the most. And thank heavens, I did better at it as I got older.”

Rhys considered his parents, his sister and her husband, his friends—all the relationships he knew. In his former life, Rhys’s motives and intentions would have been perfectly clear. Or would they? According to Leo, a man courted a woman much the same in any age. Perhaps he had been a warrior, in the company of warriors, much too long.

“Think of it this way—women are just like gardens. You do a lot of little things every day for a garden to make it grow, right? Well, a woman’s needs have to be met in order for your relationship to flourish.” Leo grinned then. “Even marriages have to be nurtured, and ours was happy for fifty-three years. Guess we were damn fine gardeners, Tina and I.”

Leo looked over the strange coffee cup charm one more time and shook his head, then headed off to bed with Spike in tow.

Rhys went upstairs to his own bed, where Leo’s words kept him from sleep for a long time. He tried to see things from Morgan’s point of view and realized that his friend might be right. Why would she consider him as anything more than a hired man? What had he really done to persuade her otherwise?

Meanwhile, it was both disquieting and comforting that he’d finally told Leo everything. Had it been foolish to do so? Was it dangerous in some way that Leo now knew his secret? At least Rhys hadn’t had to struggle to convince his friend—the physical presence of the ellyll verified his story. Perhaps I should invite Ranyon to the farm to meet Morgan. He snorted at the notion. Not that it wouldn’t work, but he didn’t want Morgan to believe because he’d brought her living evidence. He wanted her to believe him because—

Well, because she trusted him. A man needed his woman to have faith in him. And there was no doubt that he wanted Morgan to be his. Truth be told, he wanted to be hers too. It put him in mind of the last family gathering, when his sister, Arwyn, wed one of his cousins, a blacksmith from a neighboring village. Arwyn was barely a year younger than Rhys, and she had learned to heft a sword when he did. She made up for her smaller stature by being bold and brave and fast, and had bloodied his nose more than once when they were growing up. Most of the time he’d seen it coming—but not always. On this day, however, Arwyn didn’t look anything like a sparring partner, or someone who was dangerous with both bow and dagger. She wore a fine red dress that showed off her dark hair plaited with flowers, and he remembered her smile as she held hands with Urien in the circle of their families. There’d been much happiness that day…

He sighed. Foolish to think of his family now after nearly twenty centuries had passed. Foolishness and folly. He thought he had come to terms with the loss of them over the long millennia. Instead, the hurt surprised him— both that the ache and the emptiness in his chest were still there and that the pain was still strong. No doubt it was Ranyon’s tale of his aloneness, somewhat similar to Rhys’s own, that had stirred up the memories like silt at the bottom of a deep pond.

Leo had said, “Always best to go forward if you can.” But for a long moment, Rhys allowed himself to imagine facing Morgan in that circle of everyone he loved, holding her hands in his own…

When he started imagining other parts of her he’d like to hold, he had a whole new set of thoughts to keep him awake.

THIRTEEN

Some days it sucks to be a veterinarian.

It was a sign that one of Morgan’s professors had kept posted prominently in his classroom. She hadn’t understood at first—she’d had a huge supply of idealism that carried her for a long time. But by the time she’d graduated, reality had taken some of the shine off her idealism. She had no doubts about the career she’d chosen—she had a true passion for it—but she’d also come to realize that the best veterinary training in the world didn’t make that world a perfect place. There were aspects of her job that weren’t so lovable, plus a few things she just had to try to get through. Just like every other vocation in life.

Knowing that didn’t make it one bit easier when you were having one of those days.