Sunday, 10 November 2013

"Four Legs and a Tale (Conclusion)"



Winter passes. The manhorse’s departure from the camp removed the need to uproot, and the Lirosi men decided to stay in place as originally planned. Roanne has missed Sian, but she has also been able to spend a lot more time with Kev. She doesn’t go to the manor anymore—that’s been forbidden—but Kev is done with Mistress Reeve hitting him all the time and has used all his charm to persuade Da into taking him on as an apprentice. This means that he nagged the man into relenting. Now Da is the one hitting him, but he doesn’t mind. He’s less afraid of horses than he was, and when he’s not following Da from job to job, he makes himself useful around the camp. He’s clumsy and inept in small spaces; Joel can’t figure out why the women are so fond of him except that they must pity the poor witless oaf. Mam says all boys Kev’s age are clumsy and inept, and she gives Joel the menacing eye as she says it. He is already preparing to defy nature when his turn comes.
When the weather turns and the earth softens, the camp moves on. Kev comes with them, much to Roanne’s delight and her brother’s forced dismay—she’s starting to think that Joel is determined to hide a budding affection for Kev. If she can persuade Da to think more highly of him, her dream of being Kev’s wife has a better hope of becoming real. Da seems more inclined to think less, however. Joel cheerfully recounts every criticism he hears, but Mam quietly assures her daughter that Da is only harsh when he cares. Kev responds by doubling his efforts and proves to be more valuable than anyone imagined. Joel cannot figure it out. “If he’s this good, why did Lord Derrick let him go?” he wonders.
Roanne shrugs. Lord Derrick let a lot of things go, from what she’s heard. After losing both his wife and his brother, his reputation as a dark wizard withered to one of a sad, lonely man. He has not remarried, though hopeful ladies continue to test their appeal by inviting him to hunting parties and dress balls. On the day the camp packs up to leave his land, he has yet to accept any of them.
It takes a month of traveling east to find a new place to set up camp. This time, the land belongs to a young lord whose wife has just been delivered of a son. The usual spring celebration is especially merry as a result. Roanne has attended lots of fairs over the years, but this will be the best one yet. Kev asks to be her escort. Mam smiles, Da grumbles, and Joel is sent along to make sure nothing inappropriate occurs between them. Roanne reminds her father that she and Kev are still children. He agrees on her count, but not on Kev’s. His voice has settled into its adult range, so perhaps, she thinks with a curious thrill, Da is right. It makes Kev’s request all the more exciting.
The fair is busy and colourful. The children wander from refreshment stalls to gaming rings to dancing squares, collecting treats and trinkets as they go. Joel and Kev behave like stupid boys most of the time, pointing and snickering and generally being ignorant. Roanne stays a few steps ahead of them, wishing Joel was a sister rather than a brother. Norra was too much older when Roanne was a little child, but eight years is not so vast a space when a girl is ten. Being older than a brother by two, however, and it may as well be by a decade.
She can think fondly of her older sister these days. Before, she was afraid to think of her at all. Da carried on as if Norra was dead, and when Da carried on so, it may as well be so. Sian had changed all that, the day when he left the camp. On that day, Mam had revealed a wonderful secret: Norra was alive. The family’s eldest child was still alive and had never been far away. Da had been a bit grumbly until Sian had spoken up, and what the manhorse had revealed was even more wondrous than what Mam had said. It had not eased Da’s hurt over his daughter’s rash behaviour, but it had offered hope if he chose to take it. No apologies had been made. Da hadn’t liked that, and had been glad to see the manhorse go. Sian had taken tearful leave of the children, holding them both as one in his arms, and when he had kissed Roanne’s cheek, he had also whispered love in her ear. She had sniffled, but she had not wept. Joel had. Joel had cried and clung and begged him to stay, embarrassing Da in more ways than was obvious. The boy had been punished afterward, but hadn’t cared one whit; he had loved Sian immediately and trusted him implicitly—and he had the sight, not Da, so he was right to shed tears at their parting. Winter was colder than reality while father and son frosted each other out. Mam eventually intervened and a grudging peace was made.
She wonders now if Norra was able to reverse the witching on Lord Derrick’s younger brother. She has her answer before the thought fades. Joel suddenly elbows her so hard that her ribs will be bruised the next day. She turns her head to berate him and sees him pointing avidly between the baker’s stall and the ring toss. “Sian!” he shouts, joyfully. “Look, Roanne, it’s Sian!”
She would look, but her brother bolts into the crowd and she is obliged to follow him. He dodges and weaves with her close on his heels, but the crowd is condensing, converging, and the path becomes harder to negotiate. Roanne guesses that they have seen what her brother has seen and are vying to get the better view of the novelty. She wants to shout and shove at them even as her heart sickens at what must have become of him to bring him to this public place. They won’t know him for the sweet soul he is; they’ll only point and snicker the way Kev and Joel have pointed and snickered all day, when something odd or unusual captures their derisive fancy. All around her, the crowd intensifies, jostling and joking, muffling the music that has played through afternoon. Joel slips further ahead of her. She calls his name, fearful that some harm will befall him in the manhorse’s defence; he’s just reckless enough and disdainful enough to get himself into trouble—
She bursts through the last line, which is also the first line, being the line closest to the finely dressed couple newly appeared on the green. Joel has been stopped in full flight The handsome young lord is telling the guard to release him, he’s just a boy and he is a friend, and Joel is hanging, too slack-jawed to struggle, from the grip of a man in gold and green livery, and then the lady steps up and smiles, saying he’s more than a friend, he’s my little brother, and the soft brown eyes begin searching the crowd for the one she knows must inevitably be nearby …
Kev stumbles from the pursuit, his arrival jarring Roanne when he barrels into her. “You won’t believe this,” he blurts, grabbing her arm to keep her upright.
“It’s not Sian,” she declares, blinking tears from her lashes.
“No, it’s not,” he agrees. Then he starts stammering. “I mean, it’s not Sian, but it sort of, you know, is Sian …”
She smiles, letting the tears fall. Kev hasn’t time to stammer more, for the lady has located them and is coming forward herself, her silken hem whispering over the grass, her face anxious and earnest as she hopes she will be recognized. As if Roanne could ever forget her older sister’s face.
They embrace. They weep, heedless of watching eyes. Joel has been rescued and is now clamped to Blais like a bear cub to a tree, sobbing helplessly into the familiar fair curls. Kev is the only one able to utter a word. He utters two.
“My lord.”
Blais laughs as he cradles Joel. Roanne cannot believe her eyes. He is no taller than he was. He is as beautiful as he was … but he has two legs and no tail. He is a man, fully restored to what he was before she and her brother came upon him wounded in the wood. “I have disappointed you,” he observes with a smile in his voice.
Roanne glances at Norra, who makes a sheepish face. “I have done the disappointing.”
“N-no,” Roanne objects, awkwardly. They are both right, after a fashion, but they make so glorious a pair that she feels petty for it.
Kev takes the matter to hand in his usual bone-headed manner. “I thought you didn’t want to be a lord, my lord. I thought you wanted to be Lirosi.”
Blais merely smiles, still cuddling Norra’s brother. “I have decided to make use of what I am rather than wish for something I cannot be. My son is both a lord and Lirosi.”
“Then that part was true,” Roanne murmurs to her sister. “That’s why Da was so upset.”
Norra nods. “I did come back with a belly. A prospective one, anyway.” She sighs. “I expect he’s still upset.”
“Da is always upset about something,” Joel declares, indignantly.
“Mam will fix him,” Roanne adds. She can’t take her eyes from Blais, from the boots on his feet to the snug tan leathers on his legs. He is as blond and tawny as the manhorse she first met. She is truly grateful that Norra is powerful enough to have changed him back, but she privately resents that he has been changed. He was the perfect creature when she and Joel found him in the wood that day. He was—and was willing to be—hers alone. Now he is Norra’s, a member of the family, so she will be glad of it and say nothing more. Except, maybe, to Kev.
She smiles on learning that their new son’s name is Sian. 

THE END


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