Wynter's Tales

Autumn Stirrings

Days shorten. nights lengthen. Leaves of gold flutter in celebration of all that is renewing

Molly stepped into the garden. As heavy as the winds were, the air was warm. As she sat in the garden chair sipping her rosehip tea, a sigh slipped from her. Today was her day off from The Owl Toad Mole Curio Store. Her morning will be spent baking. It was her turn to bake the fruit cake. She already had the currants, sultanas, and citrus fruit peel soaking in the whisky for a month. Her mouth watered just thinking of biting into a slice with a chuck of cheese and a liberal lathing of butter. She would bake two. One for herself and one for the festival.
A cough echoed through the silence, and she glanced across the road. Cyn Heron was waking. Her bedroom light was on, casting a faint yellow glow over her garden. For the last week she has been in a foul mood. Flitting from Lavender’s home and Nellie’s.

Molly scowled; Nellie was her eldest friend. Together, with Nattie, after the trouble all those millennials ago, they had settled in Gwaine Wood. The village had grown, but it still was not too big. They opened the store, selling bits of bric-a-brac at first. Having extended their stock, they now welcomed visitors from all around. Yet, as close as the friends were, this has not stopped Nellie keeping her secrets.

Molly thought of Jorge, Nellie’s brother, and how empty his cottage by the river has been for three weeks. This was how long he, Violet, and Sorrel have been away since they left Gwaine Wood to visit court.

Molly stood and shook her head. Her wisps of tawny-brown, and silver-grey hair fluttered around her head. How long is it since she left Gwaine Wood, visited Robin’s Down or court. How much longer could she ignore the whispers in the air. Molly had lost so much in the war. Her family. The friends she grew up with. She sighed as she stepped in to the kitchen. She was too old to go through all that again.

Slowly she opened the kitchen cupboard door and removed the flour and sugar. The butter was freshly churned and soft. Ruby had dropped it off the night before. She gathered several eggs Tristan had brought from his Aunt Nattie’s and set them beside the bowl. She opened the fridge door, and removed a tub of fruit, inhaling the fragrance deeply as she removed the lid. She had a sip of the juice, smiling as she said, ‘perfect.’

A knock at the kitchen door came, and Molly glanced at the clock. It was seven-thirty, and her kitchen looked as though an explosion had torn through her home. She shook her head; she would clean it later. ‘Come in,’ she said.

The door opened, and Nattie entered. Her smile deep as she inhaled the aroma of cooked whisky and cinnamon. ‘Smells delicious,’ she said, sitting beside Molly at the kitchen table.

‘Have a teacake – The butter’s quite fresh.’

‘I will. Tristan will be along shortly. He’ll run those errands for you,’ Nattie said as she poured herself a cup of tea.

‘And Lavender hasn’t heard from Violet,’ Nattie said. ‘Oh, look at the time. I’d best go – or I’ll be late, and Nellie will have a moan.’ As she rose from her chair, Nattie slipped another teacake into her hand. ‘If you need me, send Tristan to the store. Otherwise, I’ll see you tomorrow.’

Molly nodded. ‘I’ll drop by at five. We can walk down together,’ she said as the kitchen door closed behind Nattie.

Molly walked briskly down the street as Tristan skipped happily in front of her. She was pleased with herself. Thanks to Tristan’s help she was in front with her tasks and had time to visit friends. Tristan was already knocking on the green door as Molly stepped on to the garden path.

‘Molly, what a surprise,’ Laurel said, opening the door wide.

‘Hello, I was unsure if you would be home or helping Eabha.’

Laurel stepped aside as Molly entered the cottage and walked through to the kitchen. ‘I’ve brought some teacakes,’ Molly said.

‘Good. I’ll put the kettle on. Then we can have tea.’

Molly slipped her coat off as Tristan ran into the back garden. Then she sat down and glanced around. Laurel’s kitchen was tidier compared to the mess she had left her own kitchen in. That was why she refused to bake unless she had too. For some reason, flour found its way into every crevice and surface, including the floor and cupboard trims.

‘Have you heard from Sorrel?’ she asked as Tristan’s chuckle floated through the open window.
‘Not yet. But you know,’ Laurel chuckled. ‘For a blogger and newsletter writer, she is dreadful at keeping in touch. Especially when she visits her old mentor or gets lost in the archives.’

‘So, you’re not worried then?’ Molly asked.

Laurel shook her head. ‘Cyn says we shouldn’t listen to rumours. If there was anything going on, Kitholeth would have sent word.’

‘I think it’s because Jorge has been absent without a word for so long – I worry a bit.’

Laurel chuckled as she bit into her buttered teacake. ‘He’ll be carousing with old friends and that brother of his. When was the last time Nellie, and Jorge, saw Jose?’ Laurel shook her head. ‘I can’t remember the last time they mention him.’

Molly glanced to the window. Jose was someone they rarely mentioned. When the friends decided to leave court, Jose chose to remain behind. ‘Court life suits me better,’ he said.

Molly rose from her seat. ‘You’re probably right. I guess, I’m missing him more than I thought I would.’ When she reached the kitchen door, she turned to Laurel. ‘Will you be at the festival tomorrow?’

‘Wouldn’t miss it,’ Laurel said.’

Molly left Laurel’s and as she walked toward her home, Tristan ran in front of her. She looked around. The houses and cottages were scattered. There were more properties outlaying the village, including two farms, and several more villages close by. They were a busy village, used to strangers coming and going.

As Molly strolled down the street, Tristan stopped. His gaze on the other side of the street. ‘Who’s that going into Mrs Heron’s cottage?’ he asked.

Molly, caught in her day dreaming turned to look. Her frown deepened as she stared at the tall, slim man. ‘Probably just a visitor to the village,’ she said. ‘Come along, I’ll drop you off at the store.’

Tristan pulled a face as he glanced at Molly. ‘Don’t you need me for anything else?’ he asked. ‘I’ve enjoyed today.’

‘I’m all done, Trist. You can help carry the cake and flowers to the festival tomorrow – How does that sound.’

‘Will there be a bonfire?’

‘Isn’t there always.’

‘Can I get you a cup of tea?’ Nellie asked.

That would be lovely,’ Molly said, straightening a round pill box. Her gaze swept round the store. They may not be busy, and she may only work three days a week, but she did love her job and the store. Her gaze returned to the window display. It needed new leaves; she would get Tristan to collect them tomorrow. Next week, the conkers will be replaced with apples and a memory box

‘It wasn’t a stranger,’ Molly said. Her gaze steady as she stared at Nellie. ‘It was Valkul.’

Nattie glanced between Nellie and Molly. ‘You must have got it wrong. Been mistaken,’ she said.

‘No, I didn’t.’ Molly turned to Nellie. ‘Why is Valkul visiting Cyn. He’s never visited Gwaine Wood before.’

‘He’s Cyn’s brother. Why shouldn’t he visit her?’ Nellie asked.

‘He may be Cyn’s brother. But, he’s also the queen’s advisor – And he never leaves her, or court,’ Molly said.

‘You’re looking for trouble where there isn’t any,’ Nellie said.

‘It’s the festival tomorrow, Nellie. I’ll let this slide for now – But afterwards -You’ll tell Nattie and me what’s going on. You’ll not leave us out. Not until it’s too late.’
Nellie’s lips pinched as she nodded.

Molly glanced around the field. It was busy. This field was used by the outlying villages as well as Gwaine Wood, for their celebrations. Her stomach rumbled. It was well past her tea-time, but she had put off eating as she knew there would be plenty of food for her to splurge on. And as she looked around at the food stalls, she knew she had been right. Jacket potatoes and apple pie aromas filled the air around her.

‘Can I have a toffee apple?’ Tristan asked.

‘After the service,’ Nattie said.

The evening air was warm, and Mollie had not bothered with a coat over her jumper. She glanced over to the decorated altar. Carrots, parsnip, potatoes, cabbages, pears, apples, and an assortment of berries were spread over the altar. The service was simple and short, as they thanked nature for the bounty they had gathered, which would keep them going through the winter months.

The air filled with joy. That was until Cyn stood and spoke. Her smile wide but missing from her slate-blue eyes.

“Thank you all for coming. Now, I’d like to introduce my brother, Valkul, I’m sure you remember him. Anyway, he would like to say a few words to you all.”

Valkul stood. He was a tall man with steady slate -blue eyes and silver-blue, grey hair. His gaze passed over everyone. ‘Hello, and thank you for letting me join in the service.’ He nodded to Cyn, who nodded back. Then his gaze returned to the crowd. ‘You’re all probably wondering why I’m visiting Gwaine Wood?’ His smile deepened. ‘First, it gave me a chance to visit my sister, Cyn. Second, to ease your fears. To let you know there is nothing to worry about. That the rumours circulating are unsubstantiated.

Recently, there has been a little trouble with the veil between this world and our old home. A slight hitch you would say. It glimmered. It happened twice. Maybe three times at most,’ he said. ‘But there’s been nothing for months. It was just a glitch that occurs occasionally.’

The murmurs swept through the field, and villagers. The veil opening had been created by magic and closed by magic. It should never have broken open again.

‘When was this?’ Fallon asked. His scowl deep.

‘During summer,’ Valkul said. ‘There’s been nothing more since.’

Lucian stood beside Fallon. His smile deep. ‘Come to lunch, Valkul, before you return to court,’ he said.

Valkul nodded, even if he wanted to, he could not refuse either Fallon or Lucian as they were the head of the village, and the queen’s uncles. ‘I leave the day after tomorrow. It’ll be good to see Eabha again,’ he said, accepting the lunch offer. Then he stepped away from the altar, and the gathering broke away on another set of murmurs. The murmurs turned to chatter, laughter and singing as the evening wore on, and Valkul and his visit forgotten.

Molly chewed on her stew. The carrots, sweet, and the onion sharp.

‘Do you feel better now?’ Nellie asked.

Molly nodded. ‘I expect Jorge will be back soon,’ she said. As will Violet, and she’ll ask her about the veil. After all she was one of the sorcerers who helped create the opening. An opening they were told would never open again. Their way back home blocked forever.

©Wynter B Aodh 24

The Owl Toad Mole Publishing House™

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