The Harvest Moon by Joshua Ian

Author:Joshua Ian
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: historical, gay, m/m, regency, halloween, romance, queer romance, gothic, witch, witches, spooky
Publisher: Moody Boxfan Books
Published: 2019-09-23T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER FIVE

He saw the bent trees that announced the entrance to the small cove by the lake where the weaver’s cottage stood. He brought Grannus to a slow trot and moved closer, hesitantly but determined. Though a few trees lay in his vision, he could see the cottage as well as the figure outside of it. It was an old man with a walking stick. He was bent with age and moved slowly across the pathway outside the cottage. His feet padded along the ground; his clothing, though not newly fashioned, was neat and clean and well-made and yet it hung off his slight, gnarled frame, almost shapeless in its need for flesh. Malcolm could not clearly make out his face, but even at a distance, he could see the many lines of age and the thin, sallow skin that hung about his face and neck. He appeared even more wizened and worn than the old woman in the tavern.

He watched as the old man stopped to pick a flower or weed from the ground and had to lower himself delicately and slowly. Malcolm imagined that he heard the creaking of his joints from even here. This was the Old Man Weaver he had been warned of? This was the man who, among the flood of moonlight of a harvest moon, was magically transformed into the straight-backed, strong, beautiful man he knew as Daniel? So overcome with shock and surprise was he that Malcolm wanted to laugh. Surely, he told himself, he had let his mind run like a wild animal, crashing through good sense and true, sound thinking. How in all imagining could this frail, decrepit man be a threat of any sort; hold any type of power or dominion over the forces of nature? He felt a fool for being so swayed by those ale-fed ghost stories. Surely there must be some other reason Daniel had pushed him away in the night. It could not be fear of this poor man. He was determined to speak to Daniel himself and find out the answer.

Malcolm clicked his tongue and urged Grannus closer to the cottage. The old man, obviously hearing their approach, turned towards rider and horse and examined them. Suddenly, Grannus came to a complete stop in the middle of the clearing. Grannus was a strong horse with steady nerves and did not spook easily, and his reaction surprised Malcolm. He murmured encouragement to his steed but Grannus would go no further. Malcolm patted his neck and dismounted.

“Excuse me, sir,” he called out, after quickly tying Grannus to a nearby makeshift post.

The old man turned away and offered no reply.

“I do not mean to disturb,” called Malcolm. “But I wondered if I might inquire as to something.”

The old man did not turn but held up his free hand.

“I am taking no bespoke orders at the moment, sir. “

His voice was throaty and smoky with age, but there was something familiar about it.

“I did hope to purchase some of your cloth work.

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