Roses by G. R. Mannering

Author:G. R. Mannering [Mannering, G. R.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: susana
Publisher: Skyhorse Publishing, Inc.
Published: 2013-11-01T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER NINETEEN

The Woman with Amethyst Eyes

Isole’s marriage happened quickly. Though she would never admit it, Isole knew that she was old and she wished to have the greatest chance of conceiving a child. She and her match, Manwelly, were wed on the last day of summer in the temple in Dousal, and Owaine forked out enough sticks to ensure that his daughter had the wedding of her dreams. She must have been the only Hilland bride to ever wear so many ribbons in her hair.

Manwelly was a tall, weak-looking man with two weak-looking children that had a tendency to hang off his arms. Upon setting eyes on him, Isole resolved to fill him out with pies, and after they were married she promptly began working to her goal. She moved out of the cottage and over to the village of Dousal despite many tears wept on Duna and Hally’s shoulders. But if Imwane thought that they would not see Isole again, they were sorely mistaken.

She stayed away for the first winter, resolving to run her own family, but come springtime, she began creeping back to Imwane. Over the hills she would walk briskly with the weak-looking children trailing behind her. Manwelly was not a bad husband, but he was not a good husband, either. He was prone to ailments, and if it was not his stomach giving him trouble, then his back was out of joint or his head was full of cold.

Whatever it was, he said he could not work, and often Isole would be forced to ask her father for sticks. Of course, Owaine could not refuse his daughter.

“Everyone speaks of that horse of Beauty’s,” she said one day.

“Papa, why don’t yur sell it? Yur’d get a bundle.”

“Champ isn’t mine to sell.”

“But—”

“If you want more sticks from me then yur better hush up!”

Isole pursed her lips and did not mention it again.

Though they no longer lived together, Isole still hated Beauty.

Having heard rumors of a silver woman, villagers at Dousal would hassle her with questions of her mysterious sister. She tried to spread lies about an evil, violet-eyed creature, but they preferred the circulating whispers of a gods-sent being, brought to save them from something, though they knew not what. It had begun with the matchmaker’s gossip and grown into a thriving rumor. The Hillanders saw Beauty galloping about the hills astride a great bay stallion and they made the sign of the gods to her as she passed.

Without Isole around, Beauty ran the cottage in Imwane. She was no great cook, but she had learned a little from Isole’s lessons and she and Owaine managed well. Beauty decided to keep her bedroll in the attic though there was now an unoccupied sleeping closet downstairs. She could not imagine closing her eyes to any sight other than the yellow thatch above her with the tang of maize in the air. She swept and scrubbed the cottage to the best of her ability, fitting the chores around her work

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