The Apple and the Thorn by Walter William Melnyk & Emma Restall Orr

The Apple and the Thorn by Walter William Melnyk & Emma Restall Orr

Author:Walter William Melnyk & Emma Restall Orr
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
ISBN: 9781461051602
Publisher: Createspace
Published: 2011-04-11T14:00:00+00:00


Last night we arranged to meet at the Red Spring, early, before the others arrive in search of healers and seers. As I set out across the meadow, I glance over my shoulder at the east slope of Wirrheal. Near the top is the thicket where I sheltered from the storm my first day on the island. One thorn tree stands tall above the rest. Its crown seems to glow with the ghostly white of the first blossoms of May, but it is only the moon in the bare branches. The sky is showing first light in the east; dawn is coming.

Thorn staff in my right hand, the acacia box clutched under my left arm, I turn towards the valley of the springs. The moon begins to fade above as I enter the valley, following the brook up the steady incline to its wellhead source. A gentle mist has begun rising from the marshes. I cannot see her in the new light, but I know Vivian waits for me at the well. I enter the small grove of ancient yews that surround it, and she is there, leaning on her staff. Gwenlli sits quietly on the rough-hewn bench near the wellhead, a basket on her lap with a stoneware pot that steams gently in the cool air. Vivian sits beside her, and Gwenlli offers her a small earthen cup of hot tea. She touches Vivian briefly on one shoulder and the two women exchange looks I cannot hope to understand.

I lean my staff against one of the yews, set the box down on a mossy stone, and stand looking at the Lady of Affalon. Memories of last night’s vision come flooding back to me. Vivian, Miryam, and the Magdalene. I, who have never married, have had the friendship of more than my share of mysterious and powerful women. It occurs to me that I have understood none of them, though I have respected and loved them each in the depths of my heart. Each of them carries within herself some measure of the power of the cup, each of them a bearer of life in the world. Only days ago I would not have thought of such a thing, yet now it seems so clear.



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