Martin
told Julia about his latest vision, while they were waiting at the
airport. Julia was pleased to hear that her new grandfather believed
her now. The echo at the well really was weird. Now she dared confide
in him that she had a dream too... of Ranuld.
Ranuld
spends one more night at the tavern , then he rides back to the
grange. He picks up his old life. Well almost. He cannot deny that he
misses the nights under the stars, the philosophies of Graham and the
presence of Gwen, who was always somewhere in the corner of his eyes.
The new shepherd is not a soul mate like those two were. So Ranuld
spends most of his time around his house, or making rounds at his
fields. Once in a while he walks along the Alder, to visit his
friend's grave. Like today, two years after he left Gwen at Carlin’s
Town. Ranuld's own dog is with him. He knows his master likes to sit
at the mount for a while whenever they walk by the stream. He is not
supposed to disturb him then, but today it's hard on the dog. He
senses that Ranuld's mind is more absent than other times. Instead
of running along the bank, the dog lies down next to the freedman,
who is staring at the heaped up stones.
He hadn't
even buried his friend properly. Had he known that Gwen would escape
from being taken to Morgan's castle, he would have stayed to lead the
ceremony himself. But he hadn't known. He honestly thought he was
doing what would please his friend the most. “Save my Gwen.” He
remembers the imploring look in the shepherd's eyes. He had the
intention to, had set out to do so. He even was prepared to let the
witch treat his old wounds to make it into the castle. And out of it
only if Gwen were with him.
And now …
he had heard that Gwen was still working for the potter. That she had
given birth to a little girl. Her baby must be more than a year old
already. Maybe he should pay them a visit. But there was always
something to detain him. Ranuld the leysing, you're coward. Maybe he
was in this case. He wasn't sure what to expect from seeing Gwen. Not
sure of his own reaction. Courageous Gwen, she had always been able
to fend for her herself.
Graham's
eyes come back to his memory. “Not just save her,” he hears his
friend whisper again. “Protect her.... …. ...if you can...”
Abruptly Ranuld turns from the grave. His dog jumps up, thinking it a
good time to play. They both head for the stream. Close to the edge
of the water Ranuld finds a stick. The dog is more than willing to go
after it, into the stream. So Ranuld throws it as far as he can. The
dog must have lost sight of it, he is looking around in confusion.
Finally he grabs an other branch, not to return empty mouthed. It's
a stick that is standing up right, close to the bank. The dog has to
pull at it before it gives way. With his self chosen trophy he runs
up to his master. Here you go, isn't it a beauty? His whole young body
expresses his pride. Ranuld kneels to accept the stick. “Good boy.
Now what do we have here?” His surprise reaches a climax at the end
of his line. One end of the stick has got small roots, with which it
had settled itself in the bottom of the stream, the other side
conveys the beginning of the body of a woman. It's the branch that
Graham had been working on, that dreadful night. Someone had thrown
it into the river, or stuck it into the bottom. And , being willow
wood, it had taken it's chance to start anew. A new tree, from such
a beautifully carved branch. Ranuld smiles, wondering what kind of
tree this would have been, if it weren't for his dog. The dog in the
mean time, is whining. He'd love to fetch this stick again. But
Ranuld just keeps it to himself.
What had
Graham meant, when he said “Protect her.
If you can. ” ? Graham must have known Gwen's feeling.
And agreed with her theory that he hadn't healed properly... But if
this stupid little stick knows how to start all over, why can't he?
It'll take time, but it is worth the while. Or not? In the back of
Ranuld's head are whispers. Gossip, that Gwen has married the potter.
Has she?
From the
path following the Alder, the dress maker waves. He is going to visit
his brother, who years ago has followed Eve and Morgan. The brother
still lives at the castle. But if the dress maker is to go to the
castle, he must pass by Carlin’s Town. Ranuld motions with his arm
for the man to come over. When they meet, Ranuld gives him the
branch. “Please give it to Gwen, just as it is now. Roots and all.”
“No
message sir?”
Ranuld
smiles and shakes his head. He knows she'll understand.
“And
what happened then?” Martin asked Julia. “Did she return home
with the dress maker?” Julia shook her head. “No, she sent him
asters and daisies. Telling him that she still loved him and would be patient and wait
for him to heal.”
The
frequent talks about Gwen and the freed man were starting to bore
Howard. He tried to work himself through the gate trying to get a
glimpse of his mother. She should be through customs by now. She and
Ron, that new dad of him. Martin pulled him back by his collar.
The boy would be impulsive enough to really climb through the gate
and cross the secluded area. Maybe a distraction would help. So he
directed his question at the boy, who was illicitly fighting his way
back through the gate “Hey Howard. Why did your mother give such a
funny name to her house? Balmead...”
The
boy wasn't really interested. “It means ball maid, the maid that
keeps the clay wet for the potter.”
Only
now Martin realized he had never asked Ron anything about his new
daughter-in-law. “What does she do for a living?”
“She's
an artist. Behind the bushes, back at the rose garden she has her
studio. That's how she met Ron. She asked him to pose for her. So she
could make his portrait. In clay.”
Martin
was stunned, loosened his grip on the boys collar. Julia smiled her
dreamy smile. “I think mom and dad are Gwen and Ranuld. And he has
finally healed enough to marry her.”
“You
two are stupid,” Howard yelled, tearing himself loose and worming
his way through the gate. “You and Martin must be Gwen and Ranuld.
Mom!!” He made a run for his mother, who was not just any ball
maid, but a real potter. Ron and Linda hadn't heard his remark, but
they did catch Martin and Julia exchanging amused and conspiratory
looks. As only kindred spirits can.
