Tiernan, Cate - The Sweep 11 - Origins by Tiernan Cate

Author:Tiernan, Cate [Tiernan, Cate]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: sf_horror
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

I have come to see that we can never be together. It was foolish of me to think we could marry, though I will ever think of you longingly in our special place of the forest. Think of me when you go there, for mine eyes will never feast on that place or on you again.

Please, Rose, do not cry for me. There will be others for you. Perhaps a stout, hearty Wodebayne lad? In the meantime, the best thing you can do is forget me.

Truly,

Diarmuid

Pain cut me like a spear through the middle of my body. I folded myself over the note, collapsing onto the ground. Sobbing in the dirt, I was barely aware of Kyra fluttering about, trying to get me inside, to fetch some water, to stroke my hair.

Diarmuid was not coming.

He would not marry me.

My life was truly coming to an end.

The days were a blur of swallowed tears and pain. When Ma first found me abed in the cottage, she pressed her hand to my forehead in alarm. “Are you ill?” she asked, her eyes stricken with concern.

“Quite ill,” I told her. “ ’Tis my digestion. Nothing tastes quite right anymore.”

She quickly set about placing cool rags upon my head and wrists and making me a special potion to drink. I watched as she boiled together meadowsweet, mint, and catnip leaves and flowers. ’Twas a lesson in herbs, but a painful one. I didn’t know how long I could pretend that all my pain was physical, but I couldn’t begin to tell my mother the truth about Diarmuid.

My Diarmuid!

I was devastated. How could he turn away from me? I pressed my face to the pillow as a new round of tears racked my body. Ma kept asking me where it hurt, and I lied and said that the pain was in my belly. I couldn’t bear to reveal that I was suffering a broken heart.

Kyra came to see me every day, bringing me flowers and fresh-baked biscuits that did sit well once swallowed. One afternoon Kyra stayed with me while Ma went out on an errand, and she encouraged me to throw on a summer shawl and venture outside the cottage for some fresh air.

The sun was hot, but there was a cooling breeze, making the heat tolerable. My body felt feeble, like a creaking old cart, but Kyra said that was from staying in bed so long. We sat under an ancient tree by the path.

“You cannot let one boy strike you down so,” Kyra told me. “You’ll forget about him in time.”

“Never,” I said, reaching to touch my belly. A tiny mound was growing there, though it was still too soon for anyone else to notice. “I cannot let Diarmuid go, for I am to have his child come Imbolc.”

Kyra gasped. “A babe! ’Tis no wonder you’re feeling ill.”

“Aye, but Ma’s teas of mint and meadowsweet have helped the illness in my body. ’Tis the pain in my heart that will not relent.”

“Oh, Rose.

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