The River's Gift (4 page)

Ariella
grimaced. "She'd tell Papa—" she began,
then
shook her head. "If I was just running off to play in the forest, it would
be different, but I can't see how Papa would be angry if I were helping the
sick." She raised her head and looked Merod straight in his wicked green
eyes. "I see what you're thinking. And you're right. It's time I stood up
for myself."

He
tossed his head, and drops of water flicked off his mane; she could tell he was
pleased.
:You're becoming
less like a silly mortal maiden and more like one of us every day,:
was
all he said, then he did something he had never done never done before. He
reached out and touched her cheek with his soft nose, exactly like a kiss, and
she felt a tingling,
a warm thrill pass
through her.
He pulled back shyly, and she put her hand to her cheek, and neither of them
said a word about the moment—but all the way home that evening, she kept
putting her hand to the spot on her cheek where he had touched her in a kind of
wonder.

The
next day, when the lesson had been recited and
I ,ady
Magda announced that she and Ariella were going to work on the altar-cloth,
Ariella shook her head.

"Not
today, Magda," she said carefully, trying to make certain that her tone
remained polite. Without another word, she went straight to the carved wooden
chest at the loot of her bed and took out her old clothing, laying it on the
bed.

"What
do you mean—" Magda began. She blinked at the sight of the old dress.
"Lady Ariella! Where did you get that rag? Give it to me at once, and I'll
take it to—"

"These
are my working clothes, Magda," Ariella said levelly. "I can hardly
go among the workers to tend to their ills dressed in a fine gown, now, can
I?"

"Go
among—but—how—" Magda's face grew as red as a ripe apple as she struggled
to express herself through her surprise and outrage. Ariella simply went about
her business, changing swiftly out of her fine gown and into her comfortable
dress, though as a concession to Magda she did slip on a pair of old pattens
over her bare feet.

She
half thought that Magda might try to push herself between Ariella and the door,
but instead the woman sat abruptly down on the edge of the bed, still
struggling to make her feelings known. Ariella strode firmly out the door,
ignoring Magda's splutterings.

Nor
was that all; she went openly to the stillroom and made up a proper basket of
medicines and remedies, thinking that if she was going to defy Lady Magda, she
might as well do so properly.

Thus
armed, she went down to the village and to each and every tiny earthen-floored
home, looking for anyone who might be ill or injured. She was greeted with
astonishment and open mouths, but not a one of the people to whom she offered
her help turned her down. She found there pretty much the same sorts of
ailments that she had been treating in the forest: babies with sour stomachs or
nagging coughs, grannies with aching bones, children and adults with sprains,
nasty cuts, and a broken bone or two. All her practice on the forest creatures
stood her in good stead now, and she was glad of it, for she didn't think she
dared exert her healing touch on fellow humans, at least not yet. Before she
had gotten half through the village, some of those who had been working out in
the fields and sheds came trickling in with minor hurts, probably summoned by
children carrying the astonishing news that "the Lady" had come to
tend to them.

As
she bound up the last of the sprains, she looked about only to find herself
surrounded by curious onlookers in their dusty, earth-colored, threadbare
working clothes. But the work-worn faces around her showed no sign of fear or
animosity, only puzzlement and gratitude. She stood up and straightened her
shoulders, and with a nod, addressed a stoop-shouldered old man who she instinctively
felt was probably considered to be a leader here. He looked her fearlessly in
the face.

"Thenkee,
milady," he said humbly. "Th' last hand t' tend us thuslike was yer
blessed Lady-Mother
. '
Tis far fer us t'be goin't' the
Abbey fer sprains an' belike—"

"Then
it's high time I took Mother's place, isn't it? If you like, Uncle," she
said, giving him the title that the serfs used with a man they respected,
"I'll come every day from now on to see to the village—and beyond, if
you'll spread the word. It would be easier for me, if it's possible that
everyone beholden to Lord Kaelin were to come here for tending."

"Aye,
that," the old man agreed happily. Ariella gathered up what was left of
her bandages and medicines and the crowd parted to let her through. She
pondered what the old man had told her as she took the path to the Manor that
would lead her through the forest.

I never knew that Mother took care of our
people. I wonder why Papa never told
me?
It couldn't have
been because he didn't approve; he himself mingled with his serfs and underlings.
Perhaps he had simply forgotten, or perhaps Lady Magda had taken it upon
herself to pronounce that such a task was "unsuitable" to Ariella's
rank, sex, and youth, and Lord Kaelin did not have the fortitude to nay- say
her.

That
gave her cause to wonder if her mother had also had the gift of magic healing.
Or if she'd had it, but had never known and never used it.
After all, I never would have known
if the dogs hadn't come to me first, and I didn't know any better and I couldn't
help myself.
...
If her mother had never shared that experience, by the time
she had come to Swan Manor as an adult bride, she would probably have ignored
the persistent proddings of the power inside her.

She was so sunk in
her own thoughts that she hardly noticed when she reached the heart of the
forest. It was only when she nearly tripped over a young rabbit that she
realized her goal and it was time to begin her ministrations all over again.

Lady
Magda was so taken aback by Ariella's rebellion that she did not even trouble
herself to challenge Ariella the next day when the girl changed into her old
linen dress and marched confidently out to what she now considered to be her
duty. She simply shook her head in disbelief and took to her bed for her daily
nap. Lord Kaelin said nothing to his daughter about her self- appointed position,
and Ariella did not bring the subject up; even if he disapproved as much as
Lady Magda did (which she privately doubted) as long as he didn't say
anything, she could go right on.

The one creature who did express his approval with a whole
heart was Merod. The Kelpie made no secret of how he felt.
:Everything
you do to make the other mortals well and happy will make our lives better,:
he declared, switching his tail
vigorously.
:If
they are well, they will be kinder to the land and
the wild things. They will keep their Cold Iron within the bounds of the fields
they know. They will not come hunting us, believing that their ills come from
our
curses.:

He
was in a mischievous and cheerful mood today, frisking coltishly in the
shallows. He splashed her, and laughing, she returned the favor, kicking water
at him.

:Would
you like to see some magic?:
he asked her abruptly. None of the other
creatures of Faerie had ever made her such an offer, and she inhaled sharply.

"Yes!"
she exclaimed before he could change his mind. "All I've ever seen is when
one of your friends vanishes—
" :
All you haven't seen, you mean,:
he snickered, and she reached down to splash him again..:
What makes you think a little water
will bother me?:

"Nothing,
obviously."
She laughed. "But are you really going to show me something magic?"

:Certainly
.
Would you care to see what your mother looked like when she first came to Swan
Manor?:
Without waiting for her reply—which was just as well, since she suddenly felt
as if she couldn't breathe—he turned to face the river and pawed the surface of
the water three times.

A
sparkling mist gathered above the river, fog mingled with streamers of
thousands of tiny motes that glittered with jewel-bright, ever-changing colors.
The fog thickened, obscuring the other bank; the motes danced and glimmered,
dazzling her eyes. Then, all in a single moment, the colors flared and
vanished, and hanging in the mist was a vision of a young woman, looking as
alive and real as Ariella herself.

The
slender maiden stood in quiet attentiveness, head bare of veil, looking up at
something. Her hair fell to her knees in two thick plaits, as golden and
luxuriant as Ariella's own. Her wide sky-blue eyes gazed upwards with an
expression of intense concentration, yet there was a merry sparkle in them, and
more than a hint that she would laugh more often than she frowned. The body
beneath her blue woolen gown was slender, her neck long and graceful, her hands
slim and so white even Lady Magda would have approved. She was very beautiful,
and Ariella gazed at her with mingled admiration and doubt.

:You're
very like her,:
the Kelpie said.

She
shook her head. "No, I could never be that beautiful, that graceful. I'm
as ungainly as a young calf." The maiden in the Kelpie's vision was as
ethereal as an angel, and Ariella could not imagine anyone more unlike her than
her daughter. Was this how Lady Magda wanted her to appear? If so, there was little
wonder that Lady Magda was so disappointed in her charge.

"I
can see now why Papa never wanted to remarry," she said softly. "What
other woman could ever compare with my mother?"

:Oh
,
I suppose there must be some, somewhere,:
the Kelpie replied lightly, and
shook his head so that his mane flew. The vision of the young woman broke apart
into the myriad of sparkling motes. Ariella did not entirely regret losing
sight of the woman who had given birth to her. Such a vision of perfection made
her all too aware of her own shortcomings.

:You
wanted to know
what one of the Great Ones look like,:
Merod continued.
:Well
, here is a
gathering of some.:

This
time the motes reformed into not one but several figures, engaged in a stately
dance, and Ariella gasped in purest wonder.

They
were tall, nothing like the little creatures
who
came
to her to have their ailments tended. Even the sylphs and nixies, the most
humanlike of the lot, were never bigger than a tall child of twelve or
thirteen. But these beings, even the three females, were taller even than her
Papa.

She
had thought that her mother was angelic in her perfect beauty; now she swiftly
revised her opinion. Her mother had been lovely, but all six of the Faerie possessed
an incandescent beauty that scorched the heart and soul and left the mind
bedazzled. Their faces were alight with it, their wand-slim figures lithe with
it. The men and women alike wore their ebony or silver-gilt hair long, in
elaborate arrangements threaded with beads and gems, entwined with thin silver
chains, arranged on crystal combs, adorned with wreaths of enormous, pale flowers
and silken ribbons. Their garments were like nothing Ariella had ever seen,
made of the thinnest gossamer silks, rich with needlework, fluttering with
butterfly sleeves, trailing intricately embroidered trains, and embellished
with ornaments of silver, gems, and delicate lace. Winglike eyebrows graced
elongated emerald eyes, thin and aquiline noses complimented delicate mouths as
soft as rose-petals. They moved like swans on the water, swallows in the sky,
fish in the deep; like a sigh, like a song. She was obscurely glad that there
was no music to accompany their dancing; it would have been too heart-
breakingly beautiful for any mere mortal to have borne.

She
looked away, unable to bear with so much wonder. When she looked back, the
figures were gone, the mist dispersing, and she turned to meet the Kelpie's
knowing green eyes.

:Lovely
, aren't they? But
they are too high for me. I prefer the beauties of the middle Earth for myself
,:
was
all Merod said, but Ariella knew that he understood.

The
days passed, much alike, but too full of enjoyment for Ariella ever to be bored
with her lot. So long as the sun shone and the weather was fine, six days out
of the week her schedule was much the same. In the mornings Ariella studied
what Lady Magda set her, recited yet another saint's life, and took a few
stitches on her altar- cloth, feeling that she should at least make a token
effort in Lady Magda's direction. As soon as she was able, she freed herself of
her encumbering gowns and the formal nonsense Lady Magda thought so important
and left "Lady Ariella" behind.

She
didn't see the creatures of Faerie every day; in fact she usually didn't see
any of them but Merod more than once or twice in a fortnight, if one of them
needed her tending. But now that she knew they were all around her, she sensed
their invisible presence and often thought she heard them going about their
lives in the woods around her.