Be With Me, Page 4

  Four

  BY THE TIME Kensa appeared to rescue Elisud later that afternoon, he could honestly say he’d learnt nothing practical. Oh, the boys had been great fun and they’d gathered a fair crop of mushrooms, but Elisud could no more explain why they’d picked them and not others than he could fly back to the coasts and take up fishing again.

  Instead his day had been spent listening to one boy or another tell him about life on the farm and all the people on it. He’d learnt that Uncle Ors was the smith and very good at making absolutely anything, his skill with metals close to magic. He’d heard all about mean Aunt Rosen and her spoilt daughters. He’d learnt about Talwynn, the bossiest big sister in Dumnonia, and how Mihal was so annoying, being the youngest brother and always wanting to do things he shouldn’t.

  Elisud had also learnt about the ebb and flow of life on the farm, how the seasons turned and made work harder or easier. How at times food was scarce, but richly abundant at others. The boys had told him that Sira Wynn, their father Kensa and Uncle Ruan were the ones who knew everything about farming, while Uncle Pedar was the best hunter in Britannia.

  And he learned all about Uncle Mewan, who’d died at the start of spring, leaving poor Aunt Briallen without a husband. Then soon enough without a home, once Dama Wynn decided she should move into the main house with her and Sira Wynn.

  In terms of skills he could offer the farm, Elisud might not have picked up anything useful, but when it came to learning about the complex relationships that bound this wide bunch of people together, his day had been thoroughly well spent.

  “Well now,” Kensa chuckled, walking up to them and taking both boys by their chins, tilting their heads playfully this way and that as he looked at them. “No fresh bruises, no rashes or spots, no foaming mouths or funny-coloured lips. Looks like your Uncle Elisud does a better job of watching over you than I do.”

  “Da!” the brothers chorused with equal exasperation. “We were good!”

  Kensa winked at Elisud. “Aye, I’ll believe that when the sky falls in.”

  While his sons set up a chorus of complaints, Kensa took the foraging sack from Elisud and looked inside. “Good haul,” he remarked, ignoring his boys. “Any trouble?”

  “None,” Elisud murmured. “Your boys were very good.”

  Kensa snorted. “They must have been trying to impress. Doubt that’ll last past tomorrow.”

  “And Mairo?” Elisud asked, looking at where his nephew stood off to one side, staring blankly at a lichen-covered tree. Kitto and Clemmo had stopped complaining now and were slowly advancing on him. Much as Elisud wanted to rush over and intervene, he held himself back, waiting to see what would happen.

  Kensa was watching them too. “He’s clever, just like his mam was. Quick learner. Has he always been so quiet?”

  Elisud sighed. “He’s never been a chatterer. He takes after his mam that way, always watching things but keeping his thoughts to himself. He’s never stopped speaking before, but, well, it’s understandable.”

  Demairo looked up at him then, eyes shadowed in the gloom.

  “Aye,” Kensa huffed. “I suppose it is. Was Lowena…?” His words trailed off and the big man looked uncomfortably aside. “Was she – my sister – was she happy?”

  So much truth, so much pain, so many difficult years pressed inside Elisud’s mind, filling up with memories that made his heart and head ache. There was so much he could say, but so much more he couldn’t explain. Yet none of that would give Kensa what he was looking for; the man didn’t want to hear the truth anyway.

  Elisud looked at Demairo again, remembering how much Lowena had loved her boy, how much they had meant to each other, and how she had cared for Ceri and even Elisud as much as she was able. She’d run their house with heart and efficiency, and yes, at times she had been happy. They all had.

  “Yes,” he whispered eventually, holding Demairo’s eyes with his own. “She was happy. He was her world.”

  Demairo looked away, back at the tree, hunching his shoulders as his cousins finally gathered enough courage to start talking to him.

  Elisud’s own shoulders slumped, while beside him Kensa let out a relieved breath. “Good. That’s good to hear. I often wondered about her, you know. Your brother wasn’t always friendly when we met up to trade, but I remember how he wouldn’t give up on Wena, even when she said she was too old, too ugly, too much of a burden for him. I’m glad she was happy. Your brother certain sure loved her.”

  “Certain sure he did,” Elisud echoed hollowly, inwardly hoping he was never loved like that. “And he gave her the greatest gift.”

  Demairo looked up again, clearly able to hear their conversation even over the excited babbling of his cousins.

  “Aye, he’s a fine boy. A little small, but we’ll soon sort that out. I don’t suppose you had much good food on that island.”

  “No,” Elisud replied wistfully. “Fish, mostly.”

  “Ah well, never mind.” Kensa slapped him heartily on the shoulder. “We’ll feed you all up on proper food now you’re here. Starting with mushrooms. Boys! Leave Dem alone, and go take these to your mam!”

  Clemmo instantly ran over to snatch the biggest bag from his father’s hand. “If I take these to Dama Wynn, do you think she’ll give me a honey cake?”

  “Da said to Mam, you stupid porhel,” Kitto corrected his brother with a slap across the back of the head.

  “I’m not a pig!” Clemmo protested, rubbing his head and elbowing his brother in the ribs.

  “Certain sure you are, always thinking about honey cakes, honey cakes, honey cakes. You’ll do anything for a honey cake.”

  “And you won’t?” Clemmo retorted hotly.

  Kitto made grunting noises, until his brother swung the bag of mushrooms at his head.

  “Boys!” Kensa grabbed the bag before it made contact and smashed up their day’s foraging. “That’s enough. What must your Uncle Elis and Cousin Dem be thinking about you? Take these bags to your mam, and no fighting on the way. Certain sure I’ll hear about it if you do, then Dama will know and neither of you will get any honey cakes for a whole moon turning.”

  The boys gaped at him.

  “A whole moon?” Clemmo asked, lower lip starting to wobble.

  Kensa was unmoved. “Two if you don’t get moving.”

  “Aww, poor little porhel, going to go hungry,” Kitto taunted, swinging his own bag over his shoulder and sauntering off.

  “I am not!” Clemmo shouted, running after him and shoving him hard on the shoulder. “It’s you that’ll go hungry!”

  “Not if I reach Mam first,” Kitto retorted, pushing his little brother hard enough to make him stumble off the path and taking off for the farm at a sprint. “Last one back sleeps with the pigs, oink, oink, porhel, oink!”

  “Da, he cheated!”

  “Better take the shortcut then, hadn’t you?” Kensa said, declining to get involved.

  Huffing with determination, Clemmo dashed off in the opposite direction to his brother. “I’m gonna beat you!”

  “Oink, oink, oink,” came the distant reply.

  “I’m not a pig!” was little more than a fading shriek.

  Soon enough the woods settled back into the hush of gathering twilight, and Kensa chuckled. “The joys of brothers, eh?”

  Elisud smiled faintly. Things had been like that between himself and Dewydd once. A long time ago they’d been that close. Like so many other things, though, time had changed that. So he sighed and walked over to Demairo, resting a hand on his nephew’s shoulder. “Ready to head back, Mairo?”

  The boy surprised him with a nod, but even more unusual was the way he leant into Elisud’s hold, pressing against his side for the briefest of moments. Elisud tightened his grip and held Demairo close for just a heartbeat, relishing the tiny sign of comfort, affection and approval. He’d been a little worried that the boy might not have liked what he’d overheard between his uncles, but apparently everything was all
right after all.

  “Let’s go, shall we?” Kensa said, watching the pair of them with kind eyes. “My Ia is a wonder with mushrooms. Even Dama agrees she cooks them best.”

  Elisud raised his eyebrows, relaxing his hold on Demairo so the boy could walk on ahead, one of Kensa’s hounds by his side. “I didn’t think your Dama would say that about anyone or anything.”

  Kensa chuckled, unoffended. “She will when she gets something out of it. In this case it means not only does she not have to cook them, but she gets to eat Ia’s cooking whenever she wants. My Dama’s no fool.”

  Thinking about the way she’d practically forced Elisud to stay where he had no wish to, yet at the same time offered him a chance to remain with Demairo and provide a good home for Ceri, Elisud couldn’t help agreeing. Even if he didn’t approve of Dama Wynn’s methods, he couldn’t deny that staying here was the right choice, the best choice, for all of them. Even him.

  So he smiled and talked with Kensa as they walked back to the farm in the twilight. He’d survived his first day as a farmer, and hadn’t thought about how much he missed the sea more than twenty times or so. It was a start. A good one. Perhaps everything really was going to be fine after all.

  “Da!” Ceri came running out of the main gate to meet them, throwing herself into Elisud’s arms. He gathered his girl close and breathed her in as she started telling him about her day, showing him the reddened tips to her fingers from where she’d been sorting wool and spinning, spinning, spinning. Laughing and cuddling her in, he drew Demairo up against his side.

  Yes, they could do this. It wasn’t what they were used to, but it wasn’t the end of the world either.

  “And now we have mushrooms for dinner!” Ceri exclaimed. “I’ve never eaten a mushroom before.” A sudden hint of doubt clouded her face. “Will I like it?”

  Kensa laughed and ruffled Ceri’s hair. “Certain sure you will, kathik, when your Aunt Ia’s doing the cooking. “How about we go and see how she does it? Then you’ll know you’re going to love them.”

  “Oh!” Ceri exclaimed, wriggling to get down. “Can I, Da?”

  “Certain sure, why not?” he agreed, smiling as he put her down.

  She pressed a kiss to his cheek, then grabbed her new uncle’s hand and skipped off with him, chattering all the way. Leaving Elisud and Demairo behind, as usual.

  “I think she’d fit in absolutely anywhere,” he said, watching his daughter walk away.

  Demairo gave a heavy sigh of agreement, then grabbed Elisud’s hand and tugged him in through the gates. Night was coming. They passed Ruan as he went outside with the big dogs, it being his turn to watch over the herds in their little slice of green between the woods and the hills. Elisud nodded at him, then at Ors as the smith swung the heavy gates closed. When the heavy plank thunked into place, Elisud shared an uneasy glance with Demairo, neither of them used to being locked in anywhere.

  “It’ll make us safe,” he assured the boy. “Keep the wolves out.”

  Demairo wrinkled his nose and Elisud grimaced with agreement. “Let’s head inside. Somehow I don’t feel so trapped when I can see the walls around me.”