“No.” I shook my head firmly. “I was just there.”
He continued to trace the tantalising pattern across my skin and my head whirled a little. “What was it like?”
“What?”
“Watching a child come into this life.”
I paused. My eyes met his. “Wonderful.”
“You know...” His words rumbled with gravel and I held my breath. “I’ve realised I’ve taken so much for granted in my life.”
I nodded for him to continue. All my words were trapped in my throat.
“With my father and Eernid always being around.” He shook his head. “I don’t know why they left me in charge. I should have gone to gauge the threat; they should have stayed here with the people who need them.”
“And what of the people who need you?”
He snorted, a bitter and soul crushing sound. “I don’t think many people need me, Mae.”
Placing my hands on his chest I searched his face. “I do.”
I wanted to say so much more. Wanted to tell him every dream from within me. To tell him he was the only one I thought of, even when my thoughts should have been focused on other things.
Clasping my hands, he lifted them to his lips. “I’m scared of the man I need to grow to be.”
“Then we grow together. You know.” I smiled shyly. “I always thought the stars must have aligned for us both to be born and survive on the same night but years apart.” I smiled at a fleeting fond memory of the seven-year-old Tristram taunting the five-year-old me that he’d always be older and wiser. Wiser? I wasn’t so sure about that.
“The stars?”
The tone of my voice was low and deep, unlike I’d ever heard it before. “They lead us: their power, their direction. It’s the basis for all knowledge.” I turned for the river. “They even bring in the ebb and flow of our river. The trees we worship and value reach for them.”
He nodded and then lifted his shoulders, thrusting off his melancholy. “Come, Mae, what sort of celebration is this?” Reaching for the blanket on my shoulder he tugged it free. “Are you warm enough without?”
I nodded, once again lost for words. Dumbly, I watched as he spread the blanket on the riverbank. Kneeling, he pulled at the contents of his basket, placing fresh baked rolls and berries onto wooden plates. When he’d finished, he stood, his smile on the border of shy. “It’s not much, but it’s a celebration at the least. Will you break your fast with me, Mae?”
I nodded and sat alongside him. We ate comfortably, the rush and gurgle of the river removing any silence. The bread baked by the village woman was fragrant with ground herbs. Heavy and dense, we wouldn’t be going hungry. “Where did you get the berries?” I asked, rolling a red sphere between my fingers.
“I went foraging.” He popped one into his own mouth and I longingly watched his lips as he chewed and swallowed.
“Are you going to poison us with wild fruit?”
His eyes widened, and I chuckled. “Are they poisonous?” he asked.
I popped one in my mouth. “I think we’ll live.”
Laughing and rolling his eyes, he lowered himself to the ground, placing his interlocked hands under his head. “Remember when we were always here, Mae? Splashing and laughing while the older folk worried about the important things.”
I settled on my side, keeping a respectable distance from his lean body. “I remember when Justinia used to come running down here to find you before your father realised you were missing from your studies—yet again.”
Watching his lips stretch into a glorious smile, I marvelled at the man my childhood friend had become. “What can I say? I don’t have the same aptitude for learning as you.”
“I think I have enough for the both of us.” I knew this was an uncomfortable stretch of the truth. For some reason I was incapable of learning anything other than my herb lore. It was frustrating, and I didn’t need Tristram teasing me about it.
Again, we lapsed into an easy silence, both of us staring at the grey morning sky.
“What’s going to happen to us?” I asked, when the silence was too loud.
He rolled slightly, his swift gaze darting across my face and sweeping along the swell at the neckline of my dress. “To us? Well, one day I shall forgo my errant second son ways and make you my wife.”
I batted him with my hand, ignoring the riotous stampede of wild herds in my chest. “Don’t jest, Tristram. I mean us, our people?”
His gaze flickered with dark delving depths, but he stretched a grin on his face. “Oh that. Well, my father will return with his trusty and noble first born, who shall eventually bore us all into submission with his brooding brow.”
Snorting, I clasped my hand over my mouth. “Tristram, you really don’t take anything seriously, do you?”
His eyes shone with bright sparks of golden sunlight. “Some things I do.” He rolled closer and edged his body next to mine. “I take you very seriously.”
My cheeks burned a deep scorch. I shooed him away with my hands. I couldn’t keep the dark cloud at bay though. “Truthfully though, Tristram. We are near to starving. The peace we keep with our neighbours is unsteady at best, and now there are the new invaders creeping towards us. What hope do we have?”
His eyes turned thoughtful as he watched me, his lips pursed. “We are a people not a place, Mae. We will move. Nothing we own can’t be moved, or relocated, if we have to.”
“Your father would never agree.”
My thoughts skittered to my own father. Would he ever move away from the stones he was having brought here? Would he use his guidance and knowledge to move his people if it meant leaving his new temple behind? If I looked deep into my heart, I wasn’t sure.
