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Chapter 4: An Understanding
Rowan's head slid timidly between her mother's hips and the door. She peeked around the door to view where her 'selchie man' might be. Cu trotted up to Rowan who immediately fell to her knees, wrapped her arms around the canine and hugged him. He had been nestled in front of the fire near the stranger's feet.
Fiona made her way to the table placing the basket on the top. Slowly she began taking the bits of twigs, berries, herbs, roots and mushrooms that the two had gathered and spread them neatly across the table top. She replaced the basket on a hook that hung from the rafters near the window. Fiona opened the shutters to allow fresh air and sunshine into the otherwise dark cottage. Looking back over her shoulder she watched to see if there was any movement from him, there was none.
Rowan slowly and inconspicuously made a trail over toward the hearth; trying desperately to pretend that her final destination was not right beside him. She eased next to him just at his elbow, her dark eyes watching him. While looking to see if her mother was aware of her proximity to the man Rowan placed her hand gingerly on his left forearm. His eyes opened fully and his head cocked, titled and turned slowly in her direction. There they were, man and child, nearly eyeball to eyeball. Rowan quickly glanced in Fiona's direction to find she still had her back to the pair. She was busy hanging herbs to dry.
The girl looked back at the man and smiled softly as her hand gently patted his arm. His face was stern and hard looking, his glare at the child almost deathlike. But Rowan was not afraid of this stranger.
She lowered her head slightly looking over her lashes, scrunched her nose and crinkled her lips at him in an attempt to replicate his expression. She smiled and giggled softly. Finally the corners of his mouth lifted, highlighting his prominent cheek bones. His hair was tossed haphazardly across his face as his thumbs twiddled around one another.
"I am called Rowan," she whispered cautiously looking over at her mother who suddenly stopped what she was doing. Rowan knew she was listening to her.
"I found you, me and Cu did. Are you from the sea? Do you know where you skin is? I bet someone has it hidden so you cannot return. That is why you look so sad. I told Màthair that you looked sad and I was right. You are sad because you are far away from your home aren't you?"
The man looked at the child wondering to himself if she would ever take a breath. He looked over his shoulder at Fiona who now stood near the table. Her gaze was stern and distrusting.
Pointing at her mother, Rowan continued her rambling. "This is my màthair, her name is Fiona. We live here, but we came from an island, that is far, far, far away from here," she stretched her arm as far behind as she could.
"Màthair says you are not from here either," She whispered as she leaned closer into him cupping her hand to the right side of her mouth. "She does not trust you," she whispered.
There was brief silence then she began again.
"What are you called?" The young child inquired.
After some time of staring into the fire the man softly spoke. "I cannot remember," he softly whispered looking down at his hands.
"You do not know your name?" The girl looked quizzically at the man. "Do you have name?" she quietly asked. "Where did you come from? How did you get all those wounds? You were bleeding when I found you. I saved your life! Me and Cu did. Didn't we boy?" She said looking down at the dog.
Rowan pet Cu, who gave a quick bark in compliance and wagged his tail.
"Well he really found you, but I helped màthair bring you to our cottage- didn't I màthair?" She said looking at Fiona who stood watching the man's growing uneasiness at her daughter's onslaught of questions. "Maybe you cannot remember you name because you truly are a selchie man. I will give you name."
The child's rambling and chanting at the stranger with a brogue of questions unnerved him. Fiona moved around hastily making her way toward the two.
Seeing that her mother was quickly approaching, Rowan stepped back from the man.
"Màthair look he is awake again. He smiled at me màthair," The child said smiling up so innocently at her mother. "He is a friendly selchie man. I knew he would be," she said with such exuberance. "We do not need to fear him, I told you he would not hurt me, I found him, and he is mine."
"Rowan, child leave him be. Give him some peace from your questions," she said placing her hands on the child's shoulders.
Fiona watched him carefully. She was good at reading people's faces. She suddenly realized he spoke the truth. He did not remember who he was, or where he came from.
"But màthair he is a selchie man I know he is," she insisted.
"Shhh, hush now child with that talk, you will scare the poor wee thing," she chuckled as she took Rowan by the arms and led her away towards the table. "Leave him be, girl, he is still recovering from his injuries. He will answer your questions in his own time."
"But you said he had questions to answer when we left, and now we have returned so he must answer all our questions." Looking over to the man who was now sitting straight in the chair, his right hand crossed his body gripping the arm of the chair as his body was slightly turned toward the two females, his left brow cocked and his head tilted down to the right.
"You said matheir…you did." Rowan repeated.
"Rowan, child," Her words were soft and harmonious as she bent down softly stroking her daughters long dark hair. "Why don't you take Cu outside and play for a bit. Will you feed Coll as well while you are at it? I am sure he is hungry by now." She placed a tender kiss on her forehead turned her and patted her bottom as the child skipped out the door.
"Do not say anything of interest while I am gone selchie man…do you promise," she sang as she exited through the door.
"I can assure you I will not child." he said his deep rough accent caused Fiona's emotions to suddenly stir as she turned to face him.
His voice, his looks reminded her of someone from long ago; Rowan's father.
Fiona closed the door behind her child. With her hand still on the handle she turned so that her back rested against the door.
"She has a wild imagination, you must forgive her. She means you no harm," Fiona said looking at the stranger. "Can you really not remember your name?" she asked making her way toward him.
"No." he replied, his face saddening.
There was a brief silence.
"I have heard of such things. They say it does not last long. More than likely from the fall you took, the blow to your head." She carefully placed her fingers upon the bump on his head.
He pulled away from her touch, turned his head and looked back toward the fire.
"What does she mean?" He asked quietly.
"She means nothing of it; she is just a child, a child with a vivid imagination." Trying to avoid conversation Fiona quickly walked to the cupboard and began collecting items for her patient.
"Why does she keep calling me a selchie man? What does it mean? What is a slechie?" His tone was quieter, almost calm.
Gone, for the moment at least, was the mistrust and tension that had been between them. In its place was a sort of ambivalence gaze.
Fiona paused midway to the hearth.
How am I to explain this to him? She thought to herself looking at his dark eyes.
Her head glanced down to the floor as she released a heavy sigh. Slowly as her head rose up she caught him in a gaze once again. For the first time there was a mutual peace between them.
Walking over to him with a hand full of healing items she continued toward him. He was now sitting straight up with both arms resting on the arms of the chair. Fiona placed the items gently in his lap.
"Take your shirt off," She said as she saw him jet his dark alluring eyes back up to her face. "I need to exam your wounds," She added with an unamused smile. "Nothing more."
Carefully he began to remove the shirt. He struggled to get it over his head. Fiona carefully helped him pull the shirt the remainder of the way over his head and off his arms. Folding it in half she placed it on the back of the chair. He leaned back, bracing himself on the chair's back.
She meshed her lips together in an attempt to hide a smile as she fixed his hair. His long braid had remained flipped on top of his head. He looked up at her with little expression as though he were in lost in deep thought.
That he was. He was lost in his thoughts of who this extraordinarily beautiful and mysterious woman standing so close in proximity to him was. She intrigued him, with her dark eyes, dangerous looks, and pale white skin. He closed his eyes and inhaled slightly, her smell intoxicating. She was causing his senses to fill his mind and body in wonder and primeval desires.
For the first time he noticed how attractive she was. Her figure was lean, strong, and curvy. Truth was, there was more to it than that. Something about the way she handled herself. Rest assured, she most certainly had a commanding presence, bewitching even.
She cleared her throat; he looked up to see her right eyebrow cocked with a rather chastening expression splashed across her face as her chin drew down slightly.
He realized that she had caught him staring at her. He was eye level to her exposed cleavage. He had shamelessly been starring at her breasts, her rather large breast. He looked away toward the fire, cleared his throat and smiled.
Fiona changed the dressing on his wounds, checking each one for any infections. She was relieved to that he was healing faster than she ever imagined he would.
"Thank you," he said quietly, deeply his voice husky when she had finished.
His left fingers raised, his thumb rested on his high cheekbone as his index finger scratched his eyebrow. All the while his eyes fixated deep into her gaze.
He took the shirt from behind the chair and placed back on his body. As it came over his head they caught each other in a gaze, something the pair did often. They were both studying each other, looking for something, yet not sure what that something was.
"It's nothing but a legend, folklore really," She said suddenly.
His face bore a quizzical expression.
"The selchie," she said quietly as she gathered her oils, rags etc.
"They are legendary creatures from my homeland," she paused. "Where we come from, Rowan and me." As she continued he moved himself into a more comfortable position.
"In the north sea, far north of here there is an island off the mainland coast," She walked to the cupboard, placed the items in then closed the cupboard doors. Fiona stood a few moments facing the cupboard trying to find the words.
"These legendary creatures are known as selchie folk, they are said to be seals." She paused looking at him quizzically. "Do you know of seals?"
He thought for moment as a picture flashed in his mind. "Yes," he said quietly "Creatures of the sea, small with the blackest of eyes." He smiled at the fact that he remembered something.
"Yes, they do have large soulful eyes do they not?" She whispered as she cast an unintentional alluring stare in his direction, her eyes dark as coal.
He found that he was now staring deep into the blackest pair of eyes that he could ever remember seeing. Her eyes were so bewitching, so captivating and her voice as soft as siren.
"It is said that there are seals that can shed their skins and take human form. The legend goes that the selchie shed their skins when they come ashore and take on the form of a beautiful maiden or man."
Her head dropped slightly down as she pressed her apron. She felt foolish even speaking such things as she always chastened Rowan.
"It is said that the selchie woman or man is bewitchingly beautiful. When a human captures a selchie skin then hides it, it will make the selchie into a fine and desirous, mate." She smiled seductively as she moved closer toward him, standing in front of the fire, her back towards him.
The stranger sat with his elbow braced on the chair arm, the fingers of his left hand pensively rubbing the whiskers of his chin as he listened intently to the woman.
"If, however the selchie maiden or man finds their skin, they will return to the sea from whence they came without hesitation." Her expression saddened, her voice softened. "Leaving their human mate to pine away in a pervasive longing of heartbreaking desire."
Again silence fell between them. Fiona gazed deep into the flames of the fire that crackled before her. The stranger watched her face from the side deep in thought.
"So, she thinks I am selchie man is that it?" His lips meshing and unmeshing themselves.
"She is a mere child," she whispered. "She believes in a lot of legends."
A pensive silence fell between them once more.
"We are far from the sea, Fiona," He whispered soulfully after a moments time.
The sound of her name falling from his lips caused her to tense. Her head snapped as it turned to look upon his face.
He could tell she was withdrawing inwardly and guarding herself once more.
"Come with me," she commanded as she headed for the door.
When he did not follow she turned, anger flushed her face, her hand pressed on the open door.
"You are wounded, not deaf, come with me," she groaned.
"I do not take orders from women! Espceially women who bark at me," He growled.
"How would you know what you do or do not do," she snarled back. "You cannot even remember your name!"
He turned to face the fire, definitely sitting, unwilling to yield to her commands. He heard the door slam suddenly and smiled.
Storming outside filled with unmistaken anger she made her way to the stream. Rowan caught her mother's figure and ran toward her.
"Is he well màthair?" she asked as she grabbed her mother's hand.
"He is a stubborn, insolent and head strong fool of a man, nothing more!" She snorted.
Reaching the stream's edge Fiona removed her shoes and handed them to Rowan. Tensing as she entered the cold waters she felt a shiver race up and down her body. Assuming her usual fishing formation she prepared to grabbed their evening's meal. Her first attempt she failed, as a salmon slipped through her hands. Rowan giggled as per her usual ritual.
Cu jumped up and headed toward the cottage. Fiona was too caught up in what she was doing to notice that the stranger had made his way out of the cottage and was heading toward the stream bank. Reaching the tree where Rowan sat he carefully and with great ease sat down, using the tree trunk to brace himself. Once seated next to her, he pulled his long legs up, crossed his ankles and braced his arms on either knee, clasping his left wrist with his right hand. Looking to the right and down at Rowan he smiled.
"She always misses the first few," she chanted with a happy smile as she scooted closer to him.
She was now sitting upright on her knees so she might see over his arms. Cu took his place to his other side, laid his head down on his crossed front paws. The trio watched Fiona as she once again tried unsuccessfully to catch their meal. She missed, uttering foul words in her native tongue, causing Rowan to slap her hand across her mouth, raise her eyebrows and giggle as her head sunk into her shoulders. She looked up at the man who chuckled back at her.
It was several more attempts before Fiona had landed a huge salmon for their evening meal. Proudly she stood raising her catch to the skies as she made her way back to the bank. She was victorious. Rowan and their guest stood up, making their way toward Fiona who stood proudly.
"It is a huge one màthair, we shall have a grand feast this eve!" Rowan exclaimed as she examined the fish with a bright smile.
Fiona and the stranger smiled at one another kindly. She turned to make her way back to the cottage. He too took a few steps, then looked down, seeing Rowan's small hand holding his and her smiling face looking up at him. He smiled softly back at the child then looked forward toward her mother. Fiona was several paces ahead of them when she heard in the near distance a now familiar screech. They all stopped and looked skyward.
The hawk circled calling out, slowly making its way down in a circular pattern. Suddenly it was upon them. The stranger grabbed the women forcing them to the ground shielding their bodies instinctively with his own. The bird of prey swooped back to the air, all the while calling.
"That damn menacing bird," he shouted looking up. "It tried to kill me this very morn."
He helped the women up. He placed his hand on his lower left wound.
"Are you alright?" Fiona asked with great concern moving in closer, the fish still flipping within her raised apron.
"Yes, I am" he said tersely in a gut reaction. He raised himself up straight holding his side. "Yes, thank you, I am," His tone softer, kinder.
"I wonder," she said looking at the bird circling. "Rowan, run to the barn and fetch the rabbit pelt drying in the side, hurry." She said looking at the man.
His expression one of curiosity as to what she was planning. Shortly Rowan returned with the pelt. Fiona dropped the fish to the ground, Rowan gasped.
"Rowan see that Cu does not eat this fish." She commanded, turning to the man she said "Extend your left arm."
"Are you mad woman?" He was hoping what he thought she was up to was not what she was really planning.
"Do as I say," she said as he looked at her with clenched eyes. "Please do as I ask, hurry...trust me." Her tone softened as she looked deeply into his eyes.
His head tilted slightly to the right and his left eyebrow cocked. He let out a sigh and extended his left arm. Fiona removed the ribbon from her hair, placed the rabbit pelt around his forearm then fastened it with her ribbon. Taking his arm she slowly extended it out.
"Now whistle," she said as she heard the screech of the hawk get louder. "Surely you can whistle."
Before he could pucker his lips, Rowan let out a strong whistle. The hawk screeched loudly and began its decent.
"Steady now, hold your arm firm," she said as she took a step back.
The red winged hawk descended gracefully until it came to rest upon his arm. She was magnificent. The hawk flapped her wings then settled into a relaxed state. Her chest feathers ruffled as though she were angered by his attitude toward her. Her head turned from side to side as she eyed him. They looked at one another intently.
"I thought as much," Fiona said with a chuckle.
Taking her index finger Fiona stroked the bird's chest feathers, the bird straightened herself. The three smiled. The man looked at Fiona in awe.
"She belongs to you," She said smiling at him.
"But how do you know?" He asked.
"I first noticed her circling soon after you arrived. I have never seen her around here before that. Also she has this leather strapping, which means she is a trained hawk," She said proudly.
Picking up the fish from the ground Fiona looked at the man.
"When I say three you hoist your arm and motion her to take flight." She said calmly. He nodded his head in agreement.
"One…two…three," With that Fiona tossed the fish as high into the air she could.
The hawk took flight grabbing the fish in the clutches of her talons and took off. The three of them laughed.
"There goes our sup màthair," Rowan said.
"So it does, I shall head back to the water then." With that Fiona made her way to the stream again.
The stranger stood motionless watching the hawk fly away with the fish dangling from its talons.
My hawk? He thought, suddenly he had vision come to him. He was riding a horse alongside several other men. Who were they?
He was brought out of his thoughts by Rowan who was pulling his hand.
"Come on," she shouted.
To be continued…..
