Dreamer's Pool by Juliet Marillier

Author:Juliet Marillier [Marillier, Juliet]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: Pan Macmillan Australia
Published: 2014-09-30T21:00:00+00:00

‘Flidais. A word with you in private.’

I had broken a household rule and come right into the women’s quarters to find my betrothed. The attendants laid aside their embroidery and vanished away like mist under morning sun, leaving the two of us alone in the chamber where they had been gathered. Aunt Sochla hesitated in the doorway; Bramble waited by her skirts. I’d have liked my aunt to stay. With her present, Flidais would not be able to end an awkward conversation by twining herself around me and inviting me to intimacy. That did often seem to be her solution to a disagreement. But what I had to say was best not shared with anyone else.

‘Thank you, Aunt,’ I said. ‘I’m sure Bramble would like a stroll in the garden.’

‘As would I. My eyes are getting too old for fine work. Come, dog!’

I waited until the door closed behind her before moving over to the table where Flidais was standing. She had her embroidery clutched against her breast as if she were a child expecting a reprimand; did I really look so angry? The sun through the tall windows bathed my betrothed in soft autumn light. Her gown was red, her lips redder; her skin was smooth and perfect. Her long-lashed eyes regarded me with such trepidation that a small part of me was tempted to enfold her in an embrace and suggest the two of us might start again, forgetting what was past. I hardened my heart.

‘Sit down, please,’ I said, indicating the bench near her. ‘I have a serious matter to discuss with you.’

‘Oh dear, Oran.’ She sat, still holding her handiwork. ‘You look so solemn. Not the tiniest smile for me today?’

I ignored this blatant attempt to placate me. ‘Flidais, at your parents’ home, did you assist your mother with resolving difficulties in the household, or in the settlements within your father’s territory? Did she explain to you the purpose of audiences and councils? Did she teach you how important it is for us, as leaders, to be open to the problems faced by our people?’

Flidais drew her needle from the fabric and applied herself to stitchery. Her hands were shaking visibly.

‘Flidais?’

‘That is a lot of questions, Oran. Have I done something wrong again? Please say I haven’t.’ She looked up, turning the full power of her beautiful eyes on me.

‘When we rode into Winterfalls you went to the weaver’s workshop with the village women and spent some time talking to them. Did a young woman named Emer speak to you about her friend who had gone missing? The miller’s daughter from Silverlake?’

A delicate frown creased Flidais’s brow. ‘A miller’s daughter? I don’t believe so, Oran. I recall nothing of that kind. Why do you ask?’

I had thought she might have a ready reason for dismissing Emer’s plea. I had thought she might be apologetic and promise to do better next time. I had not expected her to deny this outright.

‘I’ve just had a visit from the healer, Mistress Blackthorn, along with her man and the young woman I mentioned.

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