Chapter 14: Confessions
Eithne measured with her eyes the compact group that had braved the deluge with such stoicism. The guests were shattered, drenched, and covered in mud, looking as if they had just returned from hell. She bowed her head slightly in a sign of respect, then, using the weight of her own body, pushed open the massive oak door.
"I have prepared hot water and clean clothes!" the young woman said without further introduction. "My father-in-law is the chieftain of this place, he is the Rí. He asked me to be at your disposal."
Remi offered a silent thank you with her eyes, returning that same simple tilt of the head—a universal language of appreciation. With her cold hands, she touched the young woman’s free hand, a hand that was rough and hardened by labor.
"The two of us need to talk!"
They all stepped inside, and for the first time, they felt that the warm air, smelling of smoke and aromatic herbs, felt in a truly bizarre way like home. Yes, they were fully aware that none of the comforts of their future homes could be found in this circular dwelling, yet it gave them a sense of security. It sheltered them from the wild roar of the storm and its lashing rain.
It was good.
Eithne drove the torch into an iron ring beaten into the central supporting pillar. The flickering light seemed to breathe life into the interior of the flesc.
In their absence, thick reed mats had been brought in, and by the central hearth, where the embers pulsed in a vivid red, screens woven from wicker and hazel branches, covered with large deerskins, had been placed to ensure privacy. Behind them, thin wisps of steam rose from a giant vat made of oak, filled with hot water where dried chamomile flowers floated.
"I hope you will allow me, Mighty Morrígan, to help you freshen up! The water is hot and perfect for washing away the mud of the cave. Step right here, behind the screen!"
Remi followed her silently, but she was already determined to entrust her fate into the hands of this young woman who was only half her age yet bore a massive responsibility on her shoulders.
Anemo would have gently and carefully removed Mistral from under his cloak, but the cat simply detached himself the moment he felt the warm air and landed like a true chat noir on all four paws onto a deer hide placed near the hearth. He shook himself vigorously two or three times, as if he had a sack of fleas to shake out of his precious coat, then, with his well-known pedantry, began a meticulous grooming routine using his paws, claws, and his rough, pink tongue.
"Mon Dieu! Look at the state I am in! Like the most pathetic stray! Where are you, kiddo? Are we grooming together, or are you Siro today and don't feel like dealing with me?"
Aeol, who was only now poking his whiskers out from under Remi's hair, appeared from behind the women's screen, tip-toeing, ready to become agent 003.5 at the service of those in need.
"Our little guy was fast asleep there in the pouch. He has no idea what kind of ordeal we just went through..."
"We, Aeol? You have the nerve to include yourself when the entire way you were just a brooch on Remi's chest, under her hair and under her cloak?"
"Come on, fur-balls, let's not fight!" Anemo intervened. "Let's make ourselves presentable and go to dinner! A dry change of clothes after all this experience is heaven on earth!"
"Enfin! It is not exactly civilization, but let us not forget we must resume our roles as gods. You take care of the kiddo, Anemo! Play the role of the changeling god's daddy to the very end!"
"Yes, today I am Siro! Don't be mad, Mistral, we groom... 'groominged' together yesterday... er, I meant tomorrow."
"Yesterday, tomorrow... for these people, time is not what we thought it was, kiddo. Perhaps your ten-day week would be a success here, because for the Celts, time is like a spiral, and yesterday, today, and tomorrow might just coexist."
"Don't confuse him even more, Aeol! Leave him be!"
***
Behind the wicker screens, Remi stripped off everything, all her wet, heavy clothes, and submerged herself completely into the warm water. Her body could hardly stop shivering, but she surrendered herself into the girl's hands like a child into the hands of its mother. Eithne had soaked a rough cloth in the hot water and was now scrubbing her body centimeter by centimeter.
It was warm, peaceful, and Remi closed her eyes for a second.
"Do not forget everything I taught you!" a warm, calm voice whispered in her ear. It was the voice of the woman from her dream. "Inhale deeply the chamomile steam, drink a cup of tea! Do not let sickness touch you, for a mission awaits you!"
Remi snapped her eyes open and turned toward Eithne, who had just begun to massage her scalp. She had started a washing ritual for the long, black hair that Remi possessed.
"Eithne, what do you mean? What shouldn't I forget?"
The woman looked at her in astonishment.
"I... I didn't say anything. You fell asleep."
"Eithne," Remi then said, "I don't know how to explain it so you can understand better, but... we are not gods! Yes, we came from another world, from a land that will be here on this very earth... Your old druid with his incantation sent shivers down my spine, but I am not Morrígan, I am not the goddess of war, even if I let it be understood..."
"You don't have to tell me, Morrígan! I am with you," Eithne replied calmly, as though she had known from the very beginning that her guests were merely impostors.
"My name is Remi! Remi Storm, and where I come from, I am highly respected for the book that... better leave it. You have no concept of books. We are peaceful, Eithne, we would never harm anyone, ever. We just want to survive and get back home."
Their eyes met through the chamomile-scented steam. Their hearts beat wildly like two wrens caught in the powerful current of the high sky.
"You are not the ruthless goddess of war?..." she whispered, looking for her eyes. "You came from the cave, just like the phantom queen, but you won't punish us?"
"No, neither I nor my companions will punish you. The little ginger one has a collar around his neck... a mystical one that I wore myself until recently. It's a long story, and we need an ally. Do you understand me?"
Eithne nodded timidly.
"I only want to protect my own."
"As do I, my dear! As do I."
Comentarii
Trimiteți un comentariu