Worth More To Me…

A glaze of ice on the water of the lake
The whip of the cold north wind in my hair
The gunmetal sky spilling fat snowflakes
Hurry home to wife and hearth and fire

Up ahead the chimney smoke is but a wisp
I urge the horse on, as apprehension grows
The house is dark, no lanterns light the way
As steed and I struggle in the deepening snow

I leap from my mount upon entering the yard
Tie him quickly to the post and hasten cross threshold
Inside I find only cold and empty rooms
And note upon mantle above fire banked to coals

‘Dearest husband, I’ve given you a way
Find another woman to keep you warm
One who will not disappoint, fail to give you sons
Fill her belly, find comfort in her arms

I beg your leave and your wish for well
I return to my own father’s home in shame
I relinquish my privileged place
It was my honor to take your name

But now I give it back so you may take another
Take a lively, fertile girl with hips for giving birth
Who’ll keep your house and hearth
Bring the sound of children’s laughter and mirth

Farewell my love, I’ve taken only my clothes
I’m riding the old mare for she’s no good to you
Do not try to stop me, it’s my heart’s desire
Your happiness is worth more than mine times two’

I sank to my knees in anguish and deep distress
For even familiar roads in snow would be precarious
Yet she couldn’t have made it too far along
I returned to the horse and set off in chase

The snow had all but obscured their tracks
And yet I soon picked up their trail into the forest
Thank God, old Molly was surefooted, true, but plodding
For in the woods, were dangers more treacherous

Wolves and bears and highwaymen, even in the storm
Would prey upon a vulnerable woman and her mare
I pushed my horse recklessly along the blanketed road
Trying to keep my wits and not give in to despair

Up ahead amidst the trees, barely visible through the snow
A tiny rider cloaked in grey, upon a dappled mount
Standing in the stirrups, bow drawn, arrow aimed
At circling wolf, alone and foaming at the mouth

I hurried on, drawing my sword from its sheath
But watched as she dispatched the wolf with arrow’s tip
Then with tears of joy I pulled my love from saddle
And with loving kisses warmed her lips

‘My sweet you cannot leave me, I need you more than air
I want you more than food or water, I love you more than life
You are worth more to me than a dozen sons
I live for your laughter and companionship, my beloved wife’

Her eyes bright and shining, pools of pain and sorrow
‘I am sorry love, I thought I should set you free’
I kissed her cool mouth softly and cut off her words
‘Come home darling, your place will always be with me’

The Thwarted Wedding

A long time ago, there lived a beautiful young woman, Bega – the virgin daughter of Bran, a powerful Irish King- whose beauty and fine reputation had become famous in the land. In order to seal a treaty with the neighboring king, Bega’s father promised her in marriage to the other king’s son. Now this son -Corban- was much older than Bega. He was known to be a drunkard and a glutton. He was cruel in his treatment of his servants, his horses and his dogs. However, for many years, the two kingdoms had been at war and at long last, there was a chance to make peace.

A great feast was held at King Bran’s castle to celebrate the treaty and to introduce the betrothed to one another. When Bega was presented to her future husband, he leered at her, he licked his lips provocatively and he squeezed her breasts as if he was choosing ripe fruit. Bega was terrified and her father, King Bran, was none too pleased either. However, a deal was a deal and if the exhausted lands were spared from further battle, it would be worth the price.

The night before her wedding, the fairies heard Bega weeping at her window and they decided to take pity on her. The fair folk had been friends for many years with the first men and women who came to settle in their realm, but they were no friends of the rival king and his wicked son. Their leader, Roslyn, approached Bega with a plan. Three of the fairies were sent to put the guards of the castle to sleep with a draught of drugged ale, three more were sent to fool Corban’s father into signing the treaty without the payment of the maiden as a condition, and a final three -including Roslyn, herself- spirited Bega away from the castle and her fate.

Over the green fields, over the hills and valleys, the fairies rode with Bega in their care. When they reached the seashore, Roslyn called a great sea monster from the depths to carry Bega to the Eastern Isles. For the fairies had allies in the kingdom of Cymru and had a friend in their great king -Emrys. Ahead of the sea monster, the fairies sent a gull to carry a message to Emrys, asking him to keep the maiden safely hidden from cruel Prince Corban. With tears of relief and thanks, Bega bid her friends goodbye and climbed on the back of her conveyance.

Three days later, she arrived on the shores of Cymru, tired and hungry but safe and well. As the sea monster departed, a group of mounted men approached from inland. The tallest of the men dismounted and came to her. He was handsome and well dressed, with a neatly trimmed beard, straight teeth and clear blue eyes. He smiled and held out his hand to Bega who until this point had kept her face lowered in respect. However, when she raised her eyes to the handsome stranger, he immediately saw how beautiful she was, despite her fatigue and disarray.

“My lord,” she said, humbly. “I am Bega. I’ve fled from my home in Ireland to escape a most terrible fate. If you would be so kind to take me into your care, I will gratefully become the lowest of the serving women in your household. Only do not send me back home, for I would rather die.”

King Emrys smiled and lifted her to her feet. “I’ll do better than that, maiden. My friends the fairies have told me all about you, all your good qualities –your virtue, your kindness and charity. At their good report, I swear I had fallen in love with you already. And so I was prepared to ask for your hand in marriage. Now if you would have me, I see that I would be rewarded with your beauty as well. What do you say? Do you think you could love a man like me?”

At his words, Bega began to weep again and Emrys was troubled. “I have gone too far,” he said miserably.

“No, my lord. These are tears of joy I weep, for you make me a happy woman this day. Your friends are my friends, as well. And if they trusted me to your care, then I am sure that I could love you. I will gladly be your wife.”

At these words, Emrys embraced her, sealing their promise with a kiss of true love. He then lifted her onto his horse and carried her back to his castle to rest and recover from her ordeal.

Preparations for the royal wedding were immediately begun. Bega was bathed and clothed in a fine silk gown and jeweled with precious gems given to her by the dowager queen -Emrys’ own mother. Her maid servants wove flowers into her hair and rubbed oils into her already flawless skin. Within a fortnight of her arrival, King Emrys and Queen Bega were married and settled into courtly life.

Meanwhile, when Bega had been discovered missing, Corban had wanted to go to war against her father, King Bran. His own father produced the signed treaty with the alteration removing the condition of marriage. At the sight of it, Corban flew into such a rage that his heart, weakened by his gluttony and drunkenness, burst on the spot and he died.

 

The Mysterious Arboretum

Last year, I started writing a story for the 10-year-old daughter of a friend. With one thing and another, I never got around to finishing it. I think it’s about time I did. It gives me a light-hearted break from The Great War, too! This is different from my usual fare, so I hope you enjoy it.

Chapter One

Sandy was so excited this last Friday of school. Today was the day her class was going on a field trip. She kept checking the clock on her bedside table to see if it was time to get up. Her cat Diamond stretched out a paw and swatted at her under the covers, thinking that this restlessness surely signaled a game.

Finally, Sandy could stand it no more. The sun was finally peeking through her window shade so she threw back the covers and bounced out of bed. She had picked out her outfit the night before and laid it out across the trunk at the foot of her bed. After quickly dressing, she went to the bathroom and brushed her teeth.

“Sandy, what are doing up so early?” her mother asked from the doorway.

“Today is the day we visit the Arboretum! I was too excited to sleep.” Sandy explained. Not many ten-year-old girls were as excited as Sandy to go look and plants and trees. But Sandy wanted to be a botanist when she grew up. Visiting the Arboretum was just as exciting as going to a theme park.

She ate a quick breakfast and walked to the bus stop a full fifteen minutes early. When the bus finally came, she practically ran up the steps. Her best friend Liam had saved her a seat. Sandy chattered excitedly and Liam listened patiently. He did not share her enthusiasm for today’s field trip, beyond the fact that they didn’t have to sit in the classroom on a beautiful sunny day.

“I can’t believe you’re so excited about a bunch of stupid plants.” he grumbled.

“Plants aren’t stupid!” she cried. “We need plants to survive, dummy. They give us oxygen so we can breathe.”

“Yeah, but they’re boring.” he said in reply.

Sandy shook her head. “You wait and see, Liam. I bet you’ll change your mind after today.”

For the rest of the bus trip they talked about their summer plans. Liam’s family was going to the beach for a week in July. Sandy’s family was going to visit her cousins in Florida. Soon they arrived at their school and made their way to Mr. Vogelsinger’s classroom.

Mr. Vogelsinger might have been just as excited as Sandy to go on this field trip. He grew award winning roses, raised enough vegetables to feed a small village and regularly brought in pies his wife had baked with berries from his huckleberry bushes. He quickly took attendance and herded his students back out to the waiting bus for the trip into the city. On the way there, Mr. Vogelsinger quizzed the students about photosynthesis. Sandy raised her hand to answer every question.

“Sandy,” Mr. Vogelsinger sighed, “give someone else a chance.”

“No, let her answer. Then we don’t have to,” muttered Liam and Sandy elbowed him.

“What was that, Liam? I didn’t hear you,” Mr. Vogelsinger said, giving him the eye.

“Nothing,” Liam answered.

Eventually, they left the highway and traveled the streets leading to the center of the city. The bus driver skillfully navigated the busy traffic. On one of the streets, Sandy could see the high stone wall running the length of several city blocks and turning the corner.

“We’re here!” she cried, pulling her backpack onto her shoulders.

The bus moved slowly past the massive stone wall until finally it reached a circular driveway that ended at a set of enormous iron gates. The driver honked the horn and the gates slowly swung open, allowing them entry. Just ahead was the Visitor’s Center where the bus would drop them off and pick them up again later.

Sandy grabbed Liam’s hand. “Come on, let’s go!”

In the Visitor’s Center, every student had their hand stamped with a green leaf-shaped stamp. Besides the class, the center was empty. Sandy whispered to Liam, “They must not have many visitors this time of day.” It was, after all, early in the morning. A plump older lady gave each of the children a little map.

“Now, listen. This map is only in case you get lost or left behind. I don’t want any of you thinking you can just wander off, understand?” Mr. Vogelsinger ordered.

Just then, their tour guide arrived. He was the funniest looking man Sandy had ever seen. The round, thick lenses of his glasses, his pointy nose, and his narrow mouth, gave him the appearance of an owl. “Hello, children!” he cried. “My name is Professor Noom and I will be your guide today! Follow me! Right this way.”

Professor Noom led them through a set of doors in the back of the Visitor’s Center. When they stepped through the doors, all the children gasped.