I’ve made you wait a long time. I know. So sorry. I hope to make it up to you from time to time by posting small excerpts. Here is one:
From Enya’s Son ©2017 Cindy Thomson
The man’s eyes had been closed, but at those words his lids flickered open. “And has a spirit visited, then? That is why you’ve come here?”
“Aye.” She had no time to explain or wait for explanation. “I want to tell you my dream and I want you to tell me if my baby will die.” The words felt like raw wool on her tongue.
He nodded and she sat beside him and told him the whole thing. “Please, Brother, I must get home before my husband misses me. Tell me what you know.”
To her dismay, he sat in silence. She shifted about, rearranging the folds in her skirt to show her impatience.
“Ah, the time has certainly come, and you are surely a blessed woman.”
She grabbed his collar. “Will my baby die?”
He grinned, showing small, yellowed teeth. “He will die an old man.”
She let out the breath she hadn’t realized she was holding and then dropped her grip on the monk and moved toward the door. “Thank you. Truly, I am most grateful. But I must go.”
He splashed about and wiggled off the edge of the bath, nearly slipping on the wet floor. “But you should know that your life will not be easy. The child, the man, will break your heart and cause you worry.”
She paused with her hand on the door’s latch. “That’s what my mother said I did to her. Perhaps ’tis the lot of all parents.”
“I concur, woman, but none have endured more than you and your child shall. Do not forget this.”
Such a statement should have been delivered with dread. Perhaps he did not believe it because a slight grin crossed his face.
He tossed a wave toward her. “If you must, go. Go with the peace of God.” He returned to the bath and plopped his large feet back in.
Enya hurried outside where she found the stable boy sweeping a walkway. “I must leave at once!”
The startled lad dropped his broom and ran off. Amused, and a bit surprised at the tone of her voice, she picked up the broom and propped it against a tree. The guesthouse door open behind her.
“I must send you with a warning.”
She sighed. Hadn’t he just done so? She folded her hands in front of her and turned to face the monk.
His eyes bulged. The muscles in his neck tightened. “Heed my words, Enya of Mac Naue. No matter that you now live with a new clan. Do not forget ’tis a great burden to be a fifth daughter.”
She thanked him, and rushed off to find her horse. A shiver ran from her spine to her neck. She had the good news she’d come for. Her baby would live and grow to manhood. If Fe were here, he would say to dismiss the old man’s admonition as pure superstition. She put a hand to her beating heart as she ran, telling herself that despite the monk’s urgency, she must give it no heed.