‘But you feel that lethal wind blow against your cheek, do you not?’
He shrugged. ‘That I grant you.’
‘Well then, would you believe me if I told you I could stop that wind, had I a mind to. I could turn it from you and instead call down the heat of the sun to warm you.’
He considered this for a moment, as if trying to understand what it was she wanted him to see. At last he said, ‘You have never given me a reason to doubt you.’
‘Others might,’ she told him. ‘Do you remember the mist that descended upon us that day when we fled from de Chapelle’s men? Do you recall how it came as if from nowhere, of a sudden, and how it cloaked us without blinding us? How it hampered our pursuers but aided our escape?’
‘It did seem to favour us, yes. We were fortunate.’
‘Was it fortune, or something… different?’ Without waiting for him to answer she threw her arms wide and her head back, closing her eyes. She turned her hands palm upwards, raising her arms slowly as if conducting the wind. She pivoted on her heel then, sweeping her arms around in a movement that caught up those very currents of air and directed them aside. She opened her eyes to watch Tudor as he realised that she had done exactly as she had said she could. She had turned the wind from him so that he no longer felt it against his cheek. As if to check this, he raised his hand to his face which was serious now as he observed her closely.
Under her breath, Rhiannon repeated over and over the words Mamgi had taught her. The ancient words passed down from witch to witch, through the ages, their meanings lost in time but their sounds and rhythms still holding their powerful magic. Magic that spoke to the elements, that commanded the weather. The high clouds heard her and moved on, leaving clear sky above. The sun smiled down upon them, illuminating the glade more strongly and warming the flat rocks in the river. When the sunshine kissed Tudor’s cheek, Rhiannon heard him gasp. She spun on her heel again, this time rotating, her right arm flung towards the primroses, pointing at them as she whirled around and around. The soft petals trembled under her influence. She brought forth new words, louder now. These words had lain dormant within her just as the plants had slept beneath the winter soil, and now they sprang free of their bonds. The flowers produced more blooms, pale gold and perfect, with fat leaves beneath them. They doubled in size and number, again and again, appearing where none had been before, more and more, until theentire glade was carpeted with the flawless, creamy flowers.
Rhiannon let her arms fall to her sides. She was breathing hard, the effort of the incantations and the spells not inconsiderable. She looked at Tudor and tried her utmost to keep the tremor from her voice when she spoke.
‘You can see the truth now,’ she said. ‘The truth of what I am.’
He nodded.
She could not read his thoughts in his expression and she feared she had shown him too much. To present someone with such magic was to ask them to question all they knew of the world. Was it too much to expect him not to fear her now? She had to know. She tried again.
‘I am sorry, if you feel… deceived,’ she said.
‘How would I be?’
‘When first we… when you took me as your lover… you could not have known who…whatyou were taking to your bed. Could not have known that you were letting a witch into your heart.’
He tilted his head, taking time to form his reply. ‘Think you that I have not ears to hear what others say of you? Do you imagine me unable to watch and listen over months, to draw my own conclusions? Do youconsider I believed you and Mamgi to spend all those long hours closeted together merely learning of recipes and herbs? Think you I had not noticed how the very air around you moves to your will?’
Rhiannon let out the breath she did not know she had been holding.
‘You knew?’ she whispered.
He stepped forwards then and took her hands in his, raising them to his lips for a kiss. ‘I might have kept the company of the men of the village for most of this strange, mountain winter,’ he said, ‘but do you not know that men are the very worst of gossips?’
She smiled then, her usual, beaming, broad, joyful smile. ‘You know what I am, and yet you think you can still call me your love?’
‘I think,’ he said, reaching out to take hold of the ribbon at the neck of her dress and tug it out of its knot, ‘that all the strength of this wondrous sunshine means the water will be warm enough for swimming.’
Before she could protest he had slipped her dress over her shoulders and let it drop to the ground. Beneath it she wore only a linen shift. He stood back, smiling, and pulled his shirt over his head. As he turned to kick off his boots and step out of his trousers, Rhiannon saw the angular scar on his back where the arrow had entered his body. How close she had come to losing him thatday. How empty her life would have been then. How much he had come to mean to her in those few short months. Naked, he turned to face her again.
‘Well, Mistress Witch, will we go swimming or no?’
Happiness welled up inside her as she quickly took off her shift, so that she too was naked. She held out her hand. ‘Do you trust me not to bewitch you?’
‘Ah, I told you, my love; that you have already done.’
Instead of taking her hand he sprang forwards and took her up into his arms. Rhiannon squealed as he ran with her towards the river and leapt off the bank so that they plunged into the water together. As they surfaced, splashing and laughing in the deep, ancient rock pool, he pulled her gently to him, pushing her wet hair back off her face.
‘The question is not, can I love a witch,’ he said. ‘Rather you should ask yourself, can you love a simple man-at-arms? I have no magic. No glamours or enchantments to offer you.’
She laughed. ‘I have those of my own.’
‘Then I shall give you my steadfast heart, my unswerving loyalty, and my endless love,’ he said. ‘Will that please you?’
She smiled again, feeling his strong arms around her and the pure spring water washing against her nakedbody. She felt alive in a way she had never experienced before. ‘It will please me,’ she said, nodding.
