Elphame's Choice (Partholon #4)

Elphame's Choice (Partholon #4) Page 6

Are you purposefully trying to spoil my fun and sentence me to a life of celibacy?" Cuchulainn grumbled at his sister.

Elphame grinned. "I hardly think that assigning you to oversee the outdoors, mostly male workers, while I interview women for staff positions at the castle will in any way affect your overactive love life."

"Come, boy. I'll join you and choose which of this sorry young lot might make passable stonemasons,"

Danann said, clapping him good-naturedly on his shoulder. "Then you can take the rest of them and begin clearing away the mounds of rubble within, as your sister directed." The old centaur winked at Elphame.

"Keep this in mind - women will be more likely to grace your bed when the walls around it are sturdy and clean."

"You mean unlike this wreck," Cu said.

"That is precisely what I mean," Danann said.

"Hrumph." Cu snorted as he and the Stonemaster headed out of the main courtyard to return to the workers.

Elphame shook her head at her brother's retreating figure. His strong voice drifted back to her through the courtyard as he called to order the group of men and centaurs who were outside the castle walls.

After she'd greeted the workers, Cu, Danann and Elphame had made a quick sweep of the castle grounds, and it hadn't taken long for them to realize that they could do little in the way of restoration before they cleared the debris that had accumulated over the course of the past century. So the first order of business was tedious, but necessary. Cleaning.

Hands on her hips, Elphame looked around her. Now that she was alone she relaxed her expression and narrowed her eyes. What a mess. It was true that the basic walls and structures of the castle were still standing, but everything else was a ruin. What The MacCallan's funeral pyre had missed, time had destroyed. Elphame felt her shoulders slump. It was so much bigger than she had imagined. The castle grounds, ringed by thick stone walls, took up an enormous area. How many people had once lived here?

At least as many as currently populated the sleepy little village of Loth Tor. Could she really do it? Could she really restore all of it?

Feeling decidedly overwhelmed, Elphame's eyes were drawn back to the fire-scarred central column.

She rubbed her hands together, remembering the warm sensation of communing with the stone.

Magic...she had never Felt even a hint of it before, and today she had suddenly been bombarded with the knowledge that she had an affinity for the spirits of the stones. What did that really mean?

"Why not stay here and take my place...I have had a long, rich reign. I am ready to retire"

Her mother's words drifted out of her memory, causing her stomach to tighten with anxiety. She couldn't take her mother's place! Whether she Felt the spirits in the stones or not, she wasn't ready to lead Partholon; she wasn't her mother.

"Stop it!" Elphame told herself severely. Her mother was Epona's Chosen; she was not. She was just feeling daunted by the enormity of the task before them, which was natural. She glanced at the fire-scarred, crumbling walls. "It's not like you thought it was going to be easy," she muttered, shaking herself mentally. She just needed to get started. Take things one step at a time. Stay in control.

It was her castle. Her home.,

"Elphame!" Cuchulainn's voice boomed back along the empty courtyard. "The women are here!"

"This is where I begin," Elphame whispered. She could not lead Partholon - in truth, she had no desire to

- but she could make MacCallan Castle live again. She gave the strong central column a parting smile before hurrying to the entrance of the castle.

The women were milling in a small group several feet from the gap in the castle walls. Unnoticed, Elphame watched them from the shadows. They looked young and scared. And they were so few! She quickly counted - just over a dozen. Nearly three times that many men and centaurs had volunteered.

And all the women were humans. Not one centaur female had answered her call? Not even a young huntress in training? El allowed herself to feel the disappointment only briefly. She had a job to do and she would simply have to work with what was available to her. Maybe their smaller numbers would give her a chance to get to know them more personally. That would be a nice change.

She didn't allow herself the luxury of hoping that she might actually make a friend - she could hardly imagine such a thing. But maybe this little group of women could learn to interact with her as if she were a clan chieftain, or even a high priestess, instead of treating her like an object to be worshipped - goddess, untouchable and beyond mortal emotions.

When Elphame emerged from the ruin, the group curtsied nervously.

Elphame cleared her throat and put on her best welcoming smile. "Good morning. I am pleased to see that so many of you are interested in restoring MacCallan Castle and making it your home. The men - "

she gestured over their heads at the groups that were already forming and beginning to clear rubble from around the castle walls " - will take care of most of the heavy work, but that doesn't mean that your jobs will be any less important. I will need cooks and women who are skilled with weaving and needlepoint."

Without realizing it, Elphame's smile turned dreamy. "As MacCallan comes alive again I want to fill its walls with beautiful tapestries that will make even my mother jealous."

Responding to the goddess's sweet expression, several of the women smiled tentatively back at her.

Bolstered by their positive reaction, Elphame continued in a strong, sure voice.

"And I will, of course, need women to help me with the daily care of the castle." Elphame laughed and looked pointedly at the weeds and refuse that choked the entry to the castle. "Some days it will definitely need more care than others."

One of the women giggled, and then covered her mouth with her hand and blushed furiously.

Elphame met her eyes. "Don't ever be afraid to laugh here. I know it doesn't look like it now, but the stones sing with happiness at our arrival. MacCallan will be a joyous home."

The girl took her hand from her mouth and smiled shyly at the goddess.

"What is your name?" Elphame asked her.

"Meara," she said, her voice breaking nervously.

"Meara," Elphame repeated. "What job is it that you are most skilled at?"

"I - I - " she stammered and then finally finished in a rush. "I am good at keeping things tidy."

"Then you have come to the right place. There is much tidying awaiting you." Her gaze traveled over the rest of the small group. "Those of you who are good at cleaning, please give your names to Meara."

Elphame looked back at the girl she had singled out and saw her eyes widen with pride. "Meara, I will ask you to give me a list of your workers at the end of the day. Now," Elphame began again, "who are my cooks?"

With only a slight hesitation, four young women who had been standing in a little clump close together raised their hands. The one in the middle of the group took a half step forward. She had fiery red hair and lovely jade-colored eyes.

"We heard your call and came from McNamara Castle. The head cook there was..." She paused and looked at her friends for support. They nodded encouragement to her. "She was verra grumpy, and she dinna like young cooks. Aye, she especially dinna not like young cooks with new ideas." The redhead rolled her words with a soft, western brogue.

Elphame raised her eyebrows. "Well, I can assure you that I do not mind young cooks, and I especially like new ideas. I do not think I am grumpy, but Cuchulainn would probably disagree with me."

At the mention of her handsome brother's name, the girls tittered and smiled.

"So which among you is the best cook?" Elphame asked.

Three pairs of eyes shifted to the woman who had spoken for them.

"We are all fine cooks, but I admit to having a special talent in the kitchen. My name is Wynne. The lassies who join me are Ada, Colleen and Ula." She pointed to each woman in turn as she spoke.

"Wynne, I am pleased to announce that you are my new head cook," Elphame said. "The first order of business for you will be inspecting what is left of the castle's kitchens. Take note of what must be repaired in order to get it into working order as quickly as possible. You have many hungry mouths to feed."

"Aye, Goddess," Wynne said, curtseying quickly.

Elphame could feel her jaw setting at the title. Goddess. They would never see her as herself - Elphame, a young woman who liked to run and laugh with her family and had a tendency to be a little too fond of long soaks in her mother's bathing pool - at least they wouldn't as long as everyone insisted upon seeing her only as a goddess.

Perhaps this new beginning could change that. She made the decision quickly.

"Ladies," she said, and the chattering that had begun silenced as all eyes turned to her. "I would like to ask a favor of each of you. We are going to be working closely together, and I would prefer it if you would call me by my name instead of by the title of Goddess."

The women blinked at her, shocked expressions mirrored on each face.

Elphame sighed.

"Or you could call me my Lady. Anything but Goddess," she said, feeling a little desperate when no one spoke. "Let's see," she continued quickly. "What else? I know. Is there anyone here who is skilled at weaving or needlepoint?"

Several hands went up. Elphame caught the eye of one rather plump blonde whose rosy face seemed to have a perpetual glow.

"What is your name?" El asked her.

"Caitlin."

"Caitlin, can you weave or needlepoint?"

"Both, Godde - my Lady."

"Excellent. I have several ideas for the new tapestries. Actually, I would like them to reflect a theme for each major room of the castle, beginning with the Great Hall." Elphame's voice lit with excitement. "And the theme for the Great Hall will be the castle itself. I want the tapestries to show MacCallan Castle living again in all of its grandeur and beauty."

Caitlin blinked several times before speaking. "But, Goddess...ur...I mean, my Lady, how will we know what to weave? It - " she pointed helplessly at the hulking structure before them " - it doesn't look so grand now."

Elphame frowned. She'd forgotten that everyone didn't have a picture of the restored castle imprinted upon their minds.

"I suppose I will have to find an artist___" She trailed off, staring at her beloved, tumbledown castle.

"I could sketch it for you, my Lady."

El's head snapped around and she searched the women, trying unsuccessfully to see who had spoken.

"Who spoke?" she asked.

The same soft voice answered from the rear of the group. "I am Brenna."

"Come here, I can't see you," Elphame said impatiently.

The group parted to let a petite brunette woman through. Her head was bowed and her face was obscured. Elphame noticed immediately that the rest of the women averted their eyes from her, as if the sight of her made them uncomfortable. Then the small woman lifted her head. Elphame felt an unexpected jolt run through her body as she looked the woman full in the face, and El had to force her expression to remain impassive.

Brenna was young, and had once been pretty, Elphame could tell that from the left side of her face. The right side of her face was a ruin. A terrible burn scar ran from her neck all the way up to cover the entire right side of her face. It was thick and mottled with the shiny pink and white pigments that distinguished the deepest of burns. The right side of her mouth was missing its lip line, which was all the more horrible when compared to the smooth fullness of the unharmed lips on the other side of her face. Her right eye was clear and appeared unharmed. It was the same doe brown as her left eye, but the scars at the corner of it seemed to pull it down, giving it a droopy appearance.

She stood very still, letting Elphame study her. She met the goddess's gaze unflinchingly.

"I believe I can draw your castle for you," she said in a clear, confident voice.

"Are you an artist, Brenna?" Elphame asked.

"I have a small talent for sketching, especially for sketching things that I imagine in my mind." She smiled a crooked smile that Elphame was surprised to find endearing. "So I think I might be able to sketch things that you imagine, too, if you can describe them to me."

El nodded enthusiastically, but before she could speak Brenna continued, "But you should know that I do not consider myself an artist. I am a Healer."

Elphame's face split into a wide smile. "Then you are most welcome, Brenna. With all these workers lugging this and building that, we are bound to have several mishaps that will require a Healer's touch. I know my own brother, though an accomplished warrior, is uncommonly prone to cuts and scrapes."

For an instant Elphame saw Brenna's expression change, and it was as if a shadow passed over the young woman's ravaged face. But she responded with no hesitation.

"Of course, my Lady. I am always pleased to be where I am needed."

"Elphame!" Like a masculine tornado, Cuchulainn strode through the group of women. Eyes sparkling, he nodded to several of the prettiest before he reached his sister's side. "The supply wagons are bottled up in that mess that was once called the main road to the castle. I have dispatched the centaurs to meet them and to hack a path through to the front walls. When the wagons get here I think it best that we set up tents outside the castle walls, at least until we can make that monster inhabitable again."

Elphame raised on arched eyebrow at him and crossed her arms.

Cuchulainn laughed. "Okay! Forgive me for calling your palace a monster."

"It is not a palace. It is a castle," she corrected him.

"Well, your castle is not fit for man nor beast." He winked at the pleasingly plump Caitlin, who blushed a becoming shade of mauve. "Nor lovely lady." He gestured behind them. "The area of grasslands there, southwest of the castle that runs from the southern wall to the edge of the sea cliff, will be the easiest to clear. In a couple days we should have the tents erected and a camp set up. Until then the people of Loth Tor will be pleased to board us." Cu grinned at Elphame cheekily. "If that suits you, my Lady."

Elphame restrained herself from boxing his ears. "Yes, yes, that's fine. But I will need some men to accompany my head cook and her staff. It's important that the kitchens are restored quickly." She jabbed at his ribs. "Men need more than dried meat and hard biscuits in their stomachs if they are to work long days."

Cuchulainn chuckled and grabbed his side. He liked seeing his sister so relaxed in public - usually she kept their sibling banter to times when it was just the two of them. Restoring the hulking edifice might just be good for her if it taught her to loosen up.

"As much as I am loath to admit it, you are right, sister-mine. I will put several men at your - or rather your cook's - disposal." His eyes glinted mischievously. "Which means you will have to introduce me to your cook."

Elphame rolled her eyes at him before calling out her new head cook. "Wynne, this annoying young man is my brother. Cuchulainn, meet my head cook."

Cuchulainn gave her a rakish bow. "Well met, Wynne of the flaming hair."

"And the same to ye, my Lord," said the new cook, giving him a look of blatantly female appraisal.

"Now you know her name, Cu. Have some men come find her. She'll be inside the castle, as will the rest of us," she said, pushing him back the way he had come.

"Ah, you are forever all work, sister-mine." Cu backed away from the group, bowing gallantly. "Ladies, until later."

The women curtsied and called goodbyes to him.

"My brother is a rogue." She hadn't realized she'd said the thought aloud until Wynne, who was still gazing after Cuchulainn's retreating broad shoulders, spoke up.

"Aye, but a devilishly handsome one." Then, as if she was afraid she'd overstepped an imaginary boundary, her face paled and she muttered a hasty apology.

Elphame waved her hand dismissively and said with forced nonchalance, "Just keep the emphasis on devilish and you'll save yourself a wagonful of heartache."

Would they never be at ease in her presence? Would they always act like she was a holy conduit to be tiptoed around? She was trying her best to behave "normally" around the women. Hadn't she just teased with Cu in front of them?

It will take time to show them that I'm not that different, she told herself firmly. This was her new beginning, but she had to be patient. Twenty-five years of living one way wouldn't be erased in one morning. Reining in her frustration she addressed the group.

"Let's get to work. I know each of you has special talents, and I do appreciate that." She smiled at the women, especially the individuals she'd already been introduced to, and noticed for the first time that Brenna was no longer standing near her. Instead she had disappeared once more into the rear fringes of the group. "But I'm afraid for now we must all emulate Meara - we must get things tidy before we can separate and focus on our individual talents. So, let us begin by clearing the entryway to our new home."

Without waiting for a response, Elphame walked purposefully to the overgrown gap in the castle walls.

Grimly, she bent and grabbed a long section of rusted iron that once stood proud and straight as part of MacCallan's always-opened gate. She tugged, using her powerful leg muscles to give her added strength, and the piece of iron slid reluctantly free of the clinging vines.

She looked up to see the women's eyes flicking back and forth between watching her and peering into the shadows within the castle's walls. They looked anxious and afraid. No doubt they were thinking of the bedtime stories they'd been told about the curse of MacCallan Castle. Elphame could almost see the reflections of imagined ghosts in their eyes. She knew they needed words of encouragement, but she really wasn't good at that - the speech she had given to the men earlier that day had been a fluke; she had still been riding high on the magical tide of hearing the spirits in the castle's stones. Giving inspiring speeches was her mother's specialty, not hers.

But they needed her to reassure them; the nervous way their eyes kept returning to her said that they thought she had all the answers. And an idea came to her. She might not have all the answers, but she was completely sure of one thing. MacCallan Castle was her home. Now it would be their home as well.

And suddenly she knew what to say to them.

"I think it's only right that we clear the opening to our new home. It's women who are the heart of a home, be it a castle, a temple or a modest cottage. Women breathe life into the family, as our Goddess, Epona, breathes life into our world with each dawn. As women of the castle, let's reopen MacCallan to the living, and, in turn, make it our home."

Elphame could hear the collective sigh as her words seemed to release the tension that had built within the group.

Meara hurried forward, grabbed a dead branch and tossed it on the pile Elphame had started.

"At least we know we're needed here," she said with a tone of satisfaction that made the others smile.

"Aye, that is a certainty," Wynne said as she began to pull at one section of the massive tangle of weeds that filled the opening. Without further hesitation, her three newly named assistant cooks joined her. Then the rest of the group fell to work, chattering and laughing and making slightly off-color jokes about

women needing to open the way for men, or else they tended to lose their way.

Elphame stepped back and watched them. She could already tell that they were a hardworking group.

No one complained about getting her hands dirty; no one whined about needing a break. El thought about what Meara had said: "At least we know we're needed here." Maybe that was it. This small group of women all had one thing in common - in their old homes, their old lives, they hadn't been needed, so they had come in search of the sense of belonging that being needed would provide.

They will always have that here with me, a home where they are needed and appreciated. As Elphame made the promise to herself, for just an instant she thought she heard the whisper of a voice on the wind that said, Well done, Beloved.