Disclaimer: Nothing you recognise belongs to me.
The days passed into weeks, the weeks into months, and Llynya's life continued as it had always done. The cattle needed to be milked each morning, the chickens fed. life did not cease to follow it's eternal cycle just because she was unhappy. Gawain had been in her life for only a few short weeks she told herself, it would be best if she viewed that time as a gift, a loan of something precious that was always meant to be returned. These thoughts sustained her when she lay awake and tried to remember what his skin had felt like, the tickle of his hair against her cheek when he fell asleep beside her. She forced herself not to dwell on such things - he was gone and she remained here; she had been content with her life before, she would find a way to be content again.
Washing day was one of Llynya's least favourite chores, not least because of the whispers and nudges that invariably greeted her presence at the river side. Looking at the washing basket gloomily, she reluctantly admitted to herself that unless she was going to start wearing grain sacks, there was nothing for it but to get it over with today. She waited until late afternoon before making her way down to the river, most of the girls would have already left, and if she was lucky she would be able to complete the job in peace.
Tucking the basket onto her hip she followed the track down the slope of the meadow, enjoying the feel of the sun on her face, and the breeze that ruffled her hair. A rock shifted under her foot, and stumbling slightly, she knocked a washcloth from the basket. The little cotton square was white against the grass, matching the scattering of daisies beside it, the little flowers that had once meant so much to her. With a jolt of bittersweet memory Llynya closed her eyes, bending down to brush her fingers against the silky petals.
The sound of footsteps startled her out of her reverie, and Llynya barely escaped being knocked over by a girl carrying a wash basket so full that she had no hope of seeing where she was going.
"Easy, Beth!" Ducking out the way, Llynya grabbed the basket and helped the younger girl lower it to the ground. "A little overburdened aren't you? Unless you fancy a dip in the river, it might have been a better idea to carry it down in two loads."
"I can manage." Beths' round face flushed with embarrassed indignation, "Some of us have better things to do than moon about when there is work to do." Hefting the basket up, Beth staggered slightly and would have fallen backwards if Llynya had not caught her arm.
"Don't be so stubborn." Scooping up half the load and dropping it into her own basket, Llynya set off towards the river, the other girl following close behind her.
"Sorry." the apology was soft and a little reluctant, but Llynya smiled nonetheless. Beth was a sweet girl, if a little headstrong, and the washing would not be such a chore with someone to chat to.
For a while they sat in companionable silence, dunking and scrubbing the clothing until their faces were pink with the effort and their hands numb from the cold.
"I hear that Lillian is to be married," Llynya said, "they must be very much in love - they've only been courting a couple of months."
"Hmm…" Beth wrinkled her nose and shot her companion a mischievous look. "Give it eight months and I think the reason for their haste will be more than evident."
"That's unkind." Llynya shook her head in disapproval but couldn't help smiling, "you shouldn't spread rumours like that."
"It's not a rumour it's true. Anyway she's my sister, I can talk about her however I choose."
"That goes both ways Beth, how would you like it if she spread rumours about you?"
"She does spread rumours about me," Beth retorted indignantly. "She told everyone that I kissed James the bakers son behind the hay barn , and I swear I didn't."
"No? Llynya smiled to herself, it was no secret that James and Beth were sweet on each other.
"No." Beth replied haughtily, "I kissed him behind the blacksmiths forge." They both laughed at that, Llynya deliberately splashing the younger girl in mock outrage.
"They talk about you, my sister and her friends." Unable to meet Llynyas's eyes, Beth scrubbed forcefully at the tunic in her hands. "They say…"
"That I am a whore? A seductress willing to lie with any man who would make it worth her while?" The words came out far more harshly than she had intended. Sighing, she squeezed the water out of a ragged blanket before carefully folding it and placing it back in the basket.
"I didn't mean, I mean I don't…" Beth bit her lip and grabbed Llynya's hand. "We are friends aren't we?" She asked softly.
"That we are." Squeezing the cold fingers briefly Llynya got to her feet, resting the heavy basket on her hip. "Let them talk, I have sought neither their company nor their respect before - why should I worry if it is denied me now?"
"It's their loss," Beth replied mulishly, "believe me you aren't missing much. If I hear one more word about that stupid wedding I'm going to run away."
Llynya laughed and set off back to her cottage, bidding Beth farewell.
It was only when she had settled the cows and the chickens for the night that she realised that her best slip was not in the basket with the rest of the washing. Biting her lip in annoyance she remembered placing it to one side down at the river, meaning to wash it last. Obviously she had forgotten to pick it back up when she left. Sighing she pulled her shawl over her shoulders and set off to retrieve the garment before someone else found it.
The sun was low in the sky as Llynya made her way back down to the river. Her mother had called this time of the day the golden hour, and it was true she thought: the turning leaves gleamed copper bright in the dusk, the pale grass turned to wildfire by the setting sun. The swallows swooped swift and sleek in the dying light, their tiny shadows almost ghostlike as they flitted across the meadows. It would not be long before the birds departed to wherever they went in the winter time Llynya mused, the days were growing shorter and the blackberries were already ripe, as many a sticky fingered child in the village could testify. In a few months the memory of warm days and blue skies would be as dreamlike as a happy memory from her childhood, as pleasant as the memory of his hands… But she would not think of that she told herself: if regret were measured in gold then the whole village would be rich. She had no business yearning for something that had never truly belonged to her in the first place.
Trust your heart and trust your judgement, she remembered her mother saying once. Ruefully Llynya wished that she were alive so that she could argue against such romantic idiocy - what had following her heart brought her? A broken heart and a bad reputation that's what, and by God she would not make the same mistake twice. That was the problem with the dead she thought as she scrambled down the rocky slope to the water, you can't argue back and they always get the last word.
Tugging her sleeve free from a bramble bush, Llynya looked around carefully before venturing further. The rushing water rippled and foamed at the riverbank, dark and strangely malevolent, and she jumped slightly as a water vole leapt from the thick grass into its depths. Stupid girl, she chided herself, afraid of a tiny water mouse. She was relieved nonetheless when the slip proved easy to find, a small white flag upon the dirty ground, muddy but not lost. Shaking the worst of the dirt free, Llynya paused for a moment, a prickle of unease causing her to catch her breath and listen intently to the soft sounds around her. There was naught but the rush of the water and the hiss of the wind through the trees disturbing the silence, turning her head she scanned the dim bushes beside her and the quiet forest on the other side of the river. Nothing stirred, no dark figure leapt out of the shadows to attack her. Letting out a shaky breath, Llynya took a last look behind her and scurried towards the path that would lead her back home.
Darkness had fallen more swiftly than she had anticipated, and stumbling over tree roots and divots her progress was not easy. Almost falling to her knees for the second time, Llynya paused for a moment to get her breath back. All this trouble for a slip that was now so dirty it was probably ruined, she thought irritably.
The shrill scream that pierced the air was so wholly unexpected that for a moment she thought she had imagined it. Getting to her feet Llynya looked around uneasily, just a fox, she told herself, just some silly old dog fox calling for a mate. Far beyond the trees a light flickered, tiny at first but swiftly growing in strength, and Llynya felt the first cold sickness of real fear in her stomach; Foxes did not call for mates in the autumn, and the light was coming from the direction of her village. That had been a person screaming, that was fire she could see. Stumbling forwards as fast as she dared, a litany of possible situations flashed through her mind - the barn was ablaze, old drunk Charlie had set his little house alight, there had been a fight and things had gotten out of control and… Her shoulder slammed against a tree, sending her sprawling and erasing the images in a bright flash of pain. For a moment she knelt dazed and panting, before finding the energy to get to her feet. Cursing her carelessness she slowed her pace a little, the last thing she needed was to break her ankle and spend the night alone in the dark forest.
It was several moments before she realised something was following her, and several more before she dared to glance back. The eyes gleaming in the darkness were too large to be that of a fox or a badger, and from the way it steadily approached it was not afraid of her. Wolf? They were uncommon in these parts but not unknown, for the most part keeping well away from the humans that shared their lands. Attacks on humans were rare, but alone in the darkness Llynya saw only teeth and gleaming eyes, a monster that would hunt her down and tear out her throat. Forgetting everything she had ever been taught she abruptly turned and ran as fast as she could, her breath harsh in her throat and her heartbeat surging like thunder in her veins. Dimly she was aware of thudding paws growing ever closer, the snort of it's breath, as it leapt towards her. Llynya had only a moment to throw up her arm and shield her face before the beast was upon her, bounding out of the darkness in a snarling rush of teeth and rough fur. Falling backwards, Llynya scrambled onto her belly, feeling the animals' hot breath on her neck, her scream abruptly choked off as something hot and solid clamped over her mouth.
"Quiet girl," a terse voice whispered in her ear, "I won't hurt you, but unless you shut up you'll get us both killed."
Frozen in shock, Llynya stopped struggling. The hand over her mouth was removed and her captor turned her around to face him. The man was middle aged and scruffy, his hair and beard tangled as though he had been living in the wild for a long time. Sharp eyes studied her face for a moment before he grabbed her arm and hauled her to her feet.
"You're Rosies' girl aren't you?"
Llynya nodded mutely, this man was familiar - but for a moment she could not place his face. A nudge against her leg startled her and she looked down to see a lurcher sat at her feet. This then had been the "wolf" that had been chasing her. The dog triggered her memory and she turned back to the man beside her.
"You're Tom aren't you? The trapper from Tisbury? We have to go, there's a fire, we have to.."
"Did you not hear me before girl?" His sharp whisper cut her words off and he grabbed her arm roughly, "you go back to the village, you go to your death."
"What do you mean?" Llynya tried hard to keep the tremble out of her voice, but panic was once again rising within her. The smell of smoke was stronger now, and the noise coming from the village was louder - men's voices, a high pitched squeal abruptly cut off that surely had come from a piglet. A piglet or a child Llynya though with cold horror. "What's going on, what's happening?"
"Saxons." Pulling her back towards the river, Tom glanced at the ashen-faced woman beside him. "Keep your wits about you girl, you're going to need them if you don't want to end up like the rest of the poor sods up there."
"What about everyone else," Llynya whispered. Beth, was Beth alright?
"Nothing you can do for them now." Dragging her along faster, Tom glanced back at the blazing village that lit the sky like a false dawn in the darkness. "The village is gone."
The next hours passed like a strange dream for Llynya, a dream of black trees and evil shadows. Numb with shock and fear she followed the trapper blindly, splashing through the icy river and scrambling up hills and through woodland. The dog loped beside them pale and tireless, like a ghost out of an old legend, and with every step they took they strained to listen, expecting to hear the thunder of hoof beats or the sing of a sword unsheathed from it's scabbard, that would herald their deaths.
The sky was brightening in the east before they finally stopped in a small sheltered clearing. Dropping to her knees she watched blearily as Tom snatched up handfuls of dry sticks to make a fire, only meaning to close her eyes for a moment, she was asleep before the first of the tinder kindled.
A/N: Big hugs to my shiny new beta Carrie, and thanks to the people who offered their help - it was much appreciated. Nilmelwen, MissBubbles, KingArthurGirl, The Wild Woman, MedievalWarriorPrincess and Winged Seraph - thank you very much for your kind reviews.