Chapter 26- The Parting of Old Friends

For two weeks Leila and Lucius stayed with Simon, resting from their journey and enjoying the peace and quiet that Simon's small holding offered. They talked with the old man, helped him with repairs ready for winter and hunted in the forest, catching and preserving small game with salt and smoke and collecting medicinal and culinary herbs for their continued journey.

One morning Leila rose early to greet the morning sun rising over the river. She stood by the misty waters enjoying the view from the river bank and felt that in spite of the peace she knew here, it was time to move on. She sighed sadly and turned back to the cottage. Simon was right, until her mission was over she would not be able to rest.

Lucius had been sleeping in the main room of the cottage over the last couple of weeks, making himself a bed in an unoccupied corner while Leila slept in her old room, a room once occupied by Simon's brother. Now he was awake and putting his bedding away for the day.

Leila stopped in the doorway and admired him for a few moments. While they were in the safety of the forest neither of them felt a need to hide what they were and his tail was in full view. She couldn't deny it, she was in love.

"Good morning, Leila," Lucius said, straightening from his task. "How does the day look?"

"Beautiful," Leila said, "Clear and sunny and warm enough to sleep outside."

"So we're going to move on?" he asked.

"Yes, it's about time we did," Leila said. "We're not going to find either my brother or your grandfather's ring here, unfortunately. Have you seen Simon this morning?"

"He's not up yet."

"That's odd." Usually Simon was up at first light. "I'll go and check on him."

Leila ducked through the low door into Simon's bedroom. The old man was buried under a pile of bedclothes with only his face showing. He had been complaining of the cold recently and piling on every blanket and quilt they could find.

"Simon? Are you awake?" Leila asked, opening up the shutters to let in the morning light.

"Leila?" the feeble voice emerged from the cocoon. "Is that you?"

"Yes, Simon, are you all right?" Leila went to his bedside and sat down on the edge.

"Yes, little wolf, everything is going exactly as it should."

"What do you mean?" Leila asked, her heart skipping a beat.

"Don't grieve for me, little wolf, it is well past time for me to move on," Simon said, freeing a hand to stroke Leila's cheek. His skin was as thin and translucent as rice paper and his veins stood out as blue ridges.

Leila's heart plummeted, "No, Simon, you can't die, not yet!"

"Everything in its season, little wolf," Simon said, his voice so soft that Leila had to lean close to hear it. "The tide ebbs and flows, as does life."

"But Simon, you've been like a father to me, don't leave me," Leila said desperately clutching his hand.

"Shh, my cub, let me pass on, naturally and without violence. Be happy for me, I go to join my brothers."

Leila closed her eyes. Simon was right, his passing would be natural and in its own time, not a violent reeving of a soul from a body it was not prepared to leave. She nodded, feeling the pain of another loss in her life drain away to be replaced by a gentle melancholy. "Yes," she said, the words of the passing prayer coming to her lips easily, "May your crossing be eased by my love for you. May your final hunt in the Summer Lands be fruitful and the Great Goddess welcome you into Her kingdom."

"A wolf's blessing?" Simon asked. "Well, I welcome it. Farewell Leila."

"Farewell, Simon."

Later that afternoon Leila and Lucius stepped back from their work. They had buried Simon next to his brother on the riverbank, facing the morning sun and built a cairn over the grave.

"It's as though I have lost another father," Leila said, placing a small bouquet of flowers and herbs on the grave.

"We all have to say good bye to people we love eventually," Lucius said, "It's just that it seems you and I have to say goodbye more often than most."

"You won't leave me, will you?" Leila asked.

"Not on purpose," Lucius said. "Come on, we can get a few miles before dark."

They closed up the house and left by mid-afternoon after a quick word with the dryads who promised to look after the graves.

"He was our friend, too," they said in their whispery voices, "We shall honour him."

Leila gave the place she had called home for more than two years a final, loving look, then turned away from it for ever.