BEFORE
Chapter Two: departures and arrivals
Oak Ridge had never looked so fine as it did on this night. The spring sun set on a town just beginning to revel. Stalls were set up through the streets, bonfires were lit in the squares, and dancing gypsies, drama troupes and other entertainment spread throughout Oak Ridge. The village had taken on a festive mood in celebration of tonight, the harvest festival.
Four adolescents took advantage of what was on offer in an attempt to forget that tomorrow signified farewell. They ate enough food to sicken weaker stomachs than theirs. They clustered close to a drama troupe telling the comedic tale of a king and a jester through improvisation. They purchased small frivolities to serve as memoirs. They were relaxing under an overhanging tree when the bands began music in the squares.
Immediately, the gypsies, actors and general entertainment personale leapt to begin a simple progressive dance. Uist dragged Fola into the energetic bunch, grinning cheerfully and singing loudly.
"Dance?" Anfreda asked, turning her big blue eyes on Broichan. He was already shaking his head. She stood, and reached out a small hand.
"Please?" She asked. "For me?"
Broichan hesitated, then made the mistake of meeting her eyes. Seconds later, he was on his feet. Her hand led him into the fray.
When they reached the circle, he observed the dance for a cycle to pick up the steps, then awkwardly took Anfreda's arm. She looked up at him, her eyes bright and happy. Broichan rolled his eyes good naturedly. He felt uncomfortable dancing, when it was something he didn't commonly do. Anfreda was clearly having a fantastic time, laughing and smiling, despite his frequent dancing blunders. Her mood was infectious, and he found his mouth twitching at the sides as he passed her along the line and turned to catch his next partner. Fola ribbed him cheerfully for his unsuccessful dancing, and Broichan smiled and ignored her. By the time Anfreda spun into his arms once more, he had control, if not yet mastery of the steps. He managed to pass her on without doing anything to cause embarrassment. Even Fola failed to find anything to bag him for, so she simply ruffled his hair and moved on.
Broichan groaned as the band began a new song and the gypsies began to lead the steps of a new dance. Anfreda caught his eyes and grinned at him. He couldn't stop himself from smiling back.
"See? Not so bad at all, is it?" Anfreda asked over the music, the next time she made it to his side again.
"I can think of worse things." Broichan acknowledged reluctantly. He twirled her under one arm before leading her sideways, silently thanking his coordination for holding up so well.
"You can pick what we do next." She suggested.
"Now?"
"After the dance." Anfreda amended.
"How about pie? By the second stall when the song's over?"
"Done."
For the next few dongs, they relaxed under the tree, eating pie. They watched Fola and Uist dance. The progressive dances had temporarily concluded, but Fola and Uist continued to flit between partners, neither finding a lack in requests to dance. They were laughing and spinning, their faces flushed from the motion and from the heat of the fires.
"Leaving at sunup?" Broichan checked. Anfreda nodded silently. Her eyes shadowed for a moment. She met his gaze, then looked away.
"I'm not… I don't want this." She said sadly. Broichan felt for her. Her future was so inevitable. She had no choice.
"You knew it would happen one day." He pointed out quietly.
"But…" She trailed off. "I guess I know the husband and children thing has to happen, and I don't really mind. I just didn't realize until lately how much it's going to change everything else."
"Oh?"
"I'm going to have to leave home. I'll probably rarely see mother and dad. I won't have Fola and Uist and you… I'll be alone at Caer Pridne."
Broichan heard the impending loneliness in her voice already.
"But then you'll have your husband…"
"True… but it's not the same."
They sat in silence for a moment, Broichan saw a tall charming boy eye Anfreda and move in their direction. Feeling a twinge of sudden protectiveness, he glared at the stranger until he reluctantly changed direction.
"What do you want for your husband, Annie?" Broichan asked. Anfreda looked up, surprised to hear the name she hadn't heard since he had been over two feet taller than her.
Broichan waited patiently through a considered pause.
"Somebody who will want me to be happy. Somebody who is kind, generous, and caring. Someone intelligent who I can talk to."
"Not young, rich and handsome?" Broichan asked, proud of her response.
"It's not important." Anfreda pointed out. She considered for a moment.
"Though it wouldn't," she amended, "be unappreciated if he were that too."
She laughed the sound fitting into their surroundings.
They spent a few moments watching Fola and Uist. They were dancing together now, blatantly ignoring other requests. Fola's confident style matched Uist's elegant grace move for move.
"They're so perfect together." Anfreda marveled. Broichan nodded. It had always been that way, with the two of them. With Fola and Uist, everything just seemed so completely right.
"I might…" Broichan trailed off, thought some more and began again. "I want to go to Caer Pridne soon." He said softly. "I think that Calwyn wants…"
He stopped that thought. His suspicions were still only that.
"There's other reasons for me to be there. Maybe you won't be so alone."
"Really?" Anfreda asked, smiling hopefully.
"Maybe I can check out this kind generous potential husband who wants to make you happy. See if he measures up." Broichan suggested. Anfreda scowled.
"My parents are bad enough, I don't need you choosing my husband for me too." She growled.
"Small investigation." Broichan amended.
"No."
"Opinions and observations."
"No!"
"Observations from a distance and summarized rumours."
"Not getting better…"
"It'd be simpler all round if you introduce the guy and let me give him the third degree."
"Quickly getting worse!" Anfreda insisted.
"Just let me meet him?" Broichan asked. "Please?" Anfreda had very much become a little sister and he felt like an overprotective brother. He didn't want her tying herself to someone who didn't deserve her.
"Fine." She grumbled. "But no third degree."
"Done."
Fola and Uist arrived next to them, flushed and breathing hard.
"We've solved the Anfreda leaving thing, in case you were worried." Uist informed them. Broichan raised one eyebrow.
"We're going to adopt her." Fola announced. Anfreda giggled. Broichan's lips twitched.
"Get up here and dance with me, impending daughter!" Uist demanded, leading her back to the courtyard. Within minutes, the four of them were dancing once more.
As the sun began to lighten the edges of the sky, the four of them gathered on the east road out of Oak Ridge, Anfreda's dad waited a few paces down the road.
Anfreda hugged first Fola, the Uist.
"Who are we going to show off to now?" Uist complained, ruffling Anfreda's fair. Unable to handle the solemnity, he lifted her bodily and spun her in a circle, startling a laugh from her.
"We'll miss you Annie." He managed, and set her on her feet. Finally, she faced Broichan. A small frown creased her forehead as she tried to find something to say. Broichan had been her big brother, her teacher and her best friend for more years than she could remember. To imagine a future without him was impossible. He pulled her into a tight hug, a rare show of affection.
"I won't be too far behind you on that road." He whispered.
"I'll miss you." Anfreda whispered back.
Broichan pulled her tighter, then released her. Anfreda felt cold where his warmth had left her.
"I'll miss you too." He told her. Fola snorted.
"He will not." She debated. "He'll become a hermit. He'll eat and drink and study just like he did before you came along and made him live a bit."
"We taught him nothing of the life of fun." Uist said sadly.
"We owe it all to you." Fola said solemnly, facing Anfreda.
Anfreda hid a smile. Fola and Uist simultaneously yelped in pain as a thorn bush behind them whipped out and grazed their arms. She looked at Broichan to see him unsuccessfully trying to hide a smile.
"He's too talented at that by far." Fola grumbled, rubbing her arm and glaring at Broichan. Anfreda giggled, and hugged each of them once more.
"Have fun!" Uist told Anfreda as she turned to leave.
"Don't forget us!" Fola called after her.
"Look after yourself!" Broichan called.
Anfreda turned and waved at them, before leaping gracefully onto the empty horse beside her father. Her tiny form was dwarfed by the large horse.
"Bye!" She yelled. She rode off into the distance with her dad, towards a future planned for her before birth.
"I did not just eat and drink and study." Broichan grumbled, as they made their way towards home.
"Yeah." Fola agreed. "Every now and then you deigned to breathe like the rest of us!"
"And I think I saw him sleep once." Uist joined in. Broichan groaned good-naturedly. The thorn bush shook threateningly.
"Okay, okay!" Uist said, his arms in the air in mock surrender.
The sunlight cast the shadows of three men onto the high bluestone wall that surrounded Caer Pridne. The first figure was spare and wiry, the maker of the shadow a man for whom food wasn't a high priority. His grey eyes sparkled with life and intelligence, somewhat in contrast to his neat, responsible clothing. As the king's closest advisor, he stood close to the side of his employer. King Drust of Wdrost, known as the Bull, stood confidently beside Aniel. His stance portrayed authority, despite his diminutive size in comparison to the men he stood by. Slightly behind him stood his ever-present bodyguard. This man's eyes were constantly moving, observing, evaluating. He stood tall, still and silent, an ominous presence to repel danger.
Three silhouettes appeared on the horizon, riding towards the castle. After what seemed an age, they dismounted before the greeting party.
King Maelchon of Gwynedd stepped forward to face the King of Fortiu. At this point, Drust the Bull's position slightly uphill seemed somewhat superfluous. Maelchon's imposing size dwarfed the man even despite the incline.
As the two kings exchanged courtesies, the horse and packs were ushered away by hostlers. Maelchon's companions were introduced; his bodyguard and a cousin from Powyrs. The bodyguard took on the same inconspicuous stance as the Bull's own protector. Rhian's upright, well-postured stance did little to help her measure up to Maelchon's height. Her slight, fragile figure was dwarfed even by King Drust.
The drawbridge began to open during the introductions.
"I think that could be a hint from my wallguards. Shall we?" Drust invited. He led the way into Caer Pridne.