Seeming flustered and ill at ease, the old woman responded, a bit too quickly. “Ah, one of the villagers needed a remedy for a stomach ailment. I gave him some ginger and fennel, so all should be fine in a day or two.”
As they enjoyed the deliciousomelette, Issylte wondered why hertatiewas lying. The only plausible reason why Maiwenn had not disclosed the truth was that the message to the woodland creatures must have been about Issylte. But why would hertatiekeep something from her? A tight fist clenched her heavy heart.
The weeks passed, and summer returned. Issylte spent the days exploring the Hazelwood Forest, collectingmirabelleplums, fresh strawberries, plants, and herbs. She often helped Maiwenn hang herbs to dry from the ceiling of their workshop, using mortar and pestle to grind and prepare the tinctures and elixirs they brought to the village. Sometimes, Issylte would find a little basket with a garland oféglantines—the lovely pink roses called “sweetbriar” here in Ireland—and some of thegroseilles,or red currants, that Maiwenn especially loved.
One morning, while Issylte was out gathering fruit and herbs in the forest, Maiwenn heard the pounding hooves of horses approaching the front entrance of the cottage. She opened the door, delightfully surprised to see Branoc and Deirdre dismounting, bringing tools for her garden. She kissed them both in greeting and exclaimed, “Bran! Dee! What a pleasant surprise! I wasn’t expecting you today. Come in, both of you! Welcome!”
The two visitors entered the cozy cottage. Maiwenn closed the door after them and said to her grandson, “What brings you here today, dear?”
Branoc glanced around the kitchen as he laid the basket on the shelf. “I’ve brought these tools for your garden,Mamie. And I’ve come to see about that rusted section of your fence. I can craft the chain links in my shop and replace it easy enough. Shouldn’t take me but a week or two.” As Deirdre sat down at the little table, he asked, “Where is Églantine?”
Maiwenn dried her hands on her apron. “She’s out gathering some berries and herbs, as she does most mornings. She’ll be back in an hour or two. Won’t you stay for dinner? Églantine and I went to the lake yesterday, and we’ve plenty of trout. If she brings back some of the sweet plums, I can even make atarte aux mirabellesfor dessert! How does that sound?”
Branoc grinned. “Sounds perfect, Mamie!” Kissing Deirdre’s cheek, he suggested, “Why don’t you two have atisane,and I’ll go check out the fence?”
After Branoc had left, Maiwenn could sense that something was troubling Deirdre, but knew enough to wait patiently until her grandson’s wife could muster the courage to find her words. Finally, the younger woman, seeming a bit embarrassed, asked Maiwenn, “Mamie, do you have any herbs that could help me to conceive a babe? Each month, my courses come, and it just breaks my heart. We’ve been tryin’ for so long… Can you give me anything that might help?”
Patting Deirdre’s hand in a gesture of comfort, Maiwenn replied, “I do indeed, Dee. I have just the herbal remedy for that.” She went to her cupboard and took out some white willow bark, yarrow, and wild raspberry leaves. She measured each herb, placed the mixture in a small pouch and handed it to Deirdre. “Add a teaspoon of this into a cup and pour boiling water over it to make atisane.Let it steep for three or fourminutes, strain out the leaves and drink the tea each morning and night. It’s helped a few women in the village, so I hope it will help you as well.”
Deirdre was exuberant, nearly jumping from her chair with joy as she accepted the precious pouch and kissed Maiwenn’s cheek. “Oh,Mamie!Thank you so much! It means the world to me. I want a baby so much, it’s just killin’ me, you know. Thank you,Mamie. Truly.”
Heading to the door, Deirdre turned and said, “I’ll go say hello to Florette and the hens and see how Bran’s doin’ with the fence. Then I’ll come back in and help you peel the vegetables for dinner. Thank you again, dearMamie!”
Maiwenn busied herself in the kitchen, assembling the pots and utensils she would need to prepare a lovely meal for her unexpected guests. Églantine should be home soon and, hopefully, she’d have somemirabelleswith her. Otherwise, there were still plenty of wild strawberries that would be delicious with some fresh cream.
AsMaiwennprepared the herbed trout and fresh vegetables, Deirdre wandered into the back yard where the animals were enclosed within the metal fence. The hens were picking at the pile of vegetable scraps, searching for the grubs they loved so much, and Florette was grazing in the grass. Deirdre stroked the goat’s soft white fur, searching for Branoc.
She saw the rusted area of the fence that he wanted to replace forMamieand his tools on the ground, but he was nowhere to be found. Wondering where he’d wandered off to, Deirdre let herself out through the door of the gate, closing it behind her so the animals would not stray, and ventured into the forest to find her husband.
Following the stream, she walked for a few minutes until she heard splashing and what sounded like a woman’s voice humming. Perplexed at the singing and the rushing of water,Deirdre scanned the forest and noticed Branoc up ahead, in the strangest position. He was crouched behind a cluster of trees, as if he were hiding from view. He was staring intently at something in front of him, just beyond the trees.He’s hunting.He must have spotted a hare, or maybe even a stag!Yet, as she observed more closely, she realized that he had no bow and arrow, nor did he have a dagger. Still, he had the look of a predator on his face, and Deirdre was determined to discover what held her husband’s rapt attention.
Taking a few steps to her left, Deirdre saw how the stream near the cottage flowed into a large pool just up ahead from where she stood. A splendid waterfall cascaded down over a high wall of smooth rocks into a deep, natural basin. As she watched in disbelief, she saw a totally nude Églantine bathing in the pool, rinsing soap from her hair as she stood beneath the waterfall.
Deirdre had never seen Églantine’s hair, for it had always been pinned up and covered by a scarf. But now, as she stood with her mouth agape, Deirdre saw the pale blond tresses which fell to Églantine’s curved hips. Mesmerized, Deirdre stared in horror as the blond woman turned, revealing full, round breasts and hips, a small, delicate waist, and a tuft of blond hair between her long legs.
Numb with shock, Deirdre returned her gaze to her husband and was mortified to see that he had the front of his breeches open, his erect manhood in his hand, pleasuring himself while he stared at Églantine! As she watched in horror, Branoc convulsed with pleasure, his sacred seed spewing forth in an arc which puddled in a pool of waste on the forest floor.
I want him to spill his seed in me, not waste it on her! Here I am trying to conceive a child, and he throws it away! He can’t bed her, so he does this instead. By the Goddess, I hate her! Why did she have to come into our lives?
Trembling, shaking, sickened with jealousy, Deirdre backed slowly away in silence, not wanting her husband to see that she had witnessed his lust, his longing, his sexual act for another woman. She felt betrayed, as if he had committed adultery. She hated Églantine for enticing him, for seducing him. Deirdre had seen the way her husband’s eyes followed Églantine everywhere, how his gaze lingered on her breasts, how he watched her hips sway as she walked. She has bewitched him. I hate her!
Deirdre staggered into the cottage, andMamierushed to her side, helping her into a chair at the little table.Mamiepulled up a chair, taking Deirdre’s trembling hands into her own. “Dee! What happened, dear? You’re so pale. You’ve had a terrible shock. What is it, dear?”
Horrified, ashamed and humiliated, Deirdre recovered enough to reply. “I feel quite ill,Mamie. I’m afraid we can’t stay for dinner. I want to go home. I feel sick to my stomach. I’m sorry,Mamie.” Tears welled up in her eyes, and it was all she could do to hold them back until she got home, where she would allow herself to weep until her eyes were dry.
Branoc strolled in a few minutes later, aglow with pleasure, a contented smile plastered upon his traitorous face. He saw Deirdre and his face dropped. He glanced at his grandmother, as if sensing the tension in the air. At the obvious distress on his wife’s face, he rushed to her side and dropped to his knee. “What is it, Dee? What’s wrong?”
He tried to comfort her by touching her cheek. Deirdre thought of what he had just done with that filthy hand, and she recoiled from his touch. She replied coldly, “I feel quite ill. I want to go home. I toldMamiewe can’t stay for dinner. Please, Bran, let’s go home. I feel sick to my stomach.”
She couldn’t hide her pallor, her obvious distress. She couldn’t breathe. And her legs were shaking uncontrollably.
Branoc replied, his voice filled with concern, “Of course, Dee. I’ll go see to the horses and be right back. I’ll just be a few moments.” He gathered his tools and saddled the horses. Returning, he said sadly to his grandmother, “I’m sorry, Mamie. We’ll see you Saturday when you come into town. Give our regards to Églantine.”
At the mention of her name, Deirdre once again envisioned the nude body in the pool, her husband’s lust, the opened breeches, and the wasted seed that could perhaps have given her the child she so desperately wanted. Overcome with jealous rage, she rushed outside and heaved the contents of her stomach onto the ground, just as her husband had heaved his precious seed in the forest.
They rode in silence back to the village, the image of Églantine’s voluptuous body taunting Deirdre as her jealous mind kept chanting,I hate her! I hate her! I hate her!
The summer evolved, and her husband stopped touching her altogether. He blamed fatigue or the increased workload in the shop. Still, he found plenty of reasons to visit the cottage frequently, bringing a new plow he had fashioned to tillMamie’sgarden, repairing the thatch on her roof, or replacing yet another section of the fence.
