The ride to Gwenllian’s cottage was silent and thoughtful, for two different reasons, I was sure.
While I couldn’t stop fretting over what Gwenllian’s tonic would bring to the front of my mind, I was certain Bleddyn, who’d been in a pensive, terse mood since we’d departed his father’s office that afternoon, was thinking about the things he’d said to Rhys and the things Rhys hadn’t said back.
We each rode our own horses, and I found myself missing the early days of my tenure in 1626, when Bleddyn and I would ride Arwel together, him slowly but surely getting hard against my ass, and me squirming shamelessly to get him harder.
“A penny for your thoughts, my light.”
Bleddyn’s voice startled me out of my reverie and back to our scenic ride through the forest, with the westering sun’s golden light turned greenish by the filter of the leaves. Tiny patches of blue sky could be glimpsed through the heavy canopy and the very air was thick with heat and humidity. But not unpleasantly so. Though it did incline one to sleepiness, even if one was on the back of a horse.
I smiled over at Bleddyn, and he smiled back, tense and strained. “Just thinking about getting you hard,” I said offhandedly, without elaborating on all the other things I’d been thinking about before that.
Bleddyn’s eyes widened and that tense smile became less so. “Think you of only that?”
“I won’t lie and say it’s not my favorite and most persistent thought.”
Chuckling, Bleddyn nudged Arwel closer to me and my horse, Aderyn, till he was close enough to reach out and brush his fingertips down my cheek. “You are my bright light,” he said. Had we not both been horsed, I would’ve shown him what that kind of sweet talk did to me.
I settled for catching his hand and kissing it. And we held hands, sometimes awkwardly because of Arwel and Aderyn’s gaits, but we didn’t let go until we arrived at the clearing in which sat Gwenllian’s cottage.
Exchanging glances, we finally let go of each other’s hands and got off our respective horses. Bleddyn stepped around Arwel as I petted Aderyn’s nose, and he put his hands on my shoulders, slowly kneading them. He gave the best massages, and soon I was moaning and getting into said massage, Aderyn forgotten.
“You are worried about the memories Gwenllian’s tonic will reveal?”
“A little, yeah,” I admitted, though with a casual tone that implied I wasn’t nearly as worried as I actually was.
Bleddyn wasn’t buying it. He kissed my ear lobe. “My love, you do not have to hide your fears from me. Tell me what you dread, that I may reassure you.”
I laughed a bit breathlessly. “Oh, Bleddyn, if only it was that simple. If only I could be reassured about a complete unknown! I mean, I have some bad memories of things I’ve done and things that happened to me—my father’s heart attack, his death, my mother’s grief, the stupid things and bad people I got mixed up with afterwards trying to displace that grief. Partying, skipping school, drinking, drugging, stealing, vandalism, stupid, petty crimes with stupid petty people. I was messed up. Did messed up things and had messed up things done to me, and if there’s something in my past that’s worse than the worst thing I remember…”
I fell silent, forcing down the memories, confused as they were. Most of it was a haze of drunken semi-awareness; the blur of whirling, spinning colors going dark as my face was suddenly pushed into tacky leather that muffled my nos and don’ts; the somewhat sobering fear of asphyxiation; the feeling of hands scrabbling at my jeans, then the rough rasp as they were yanked down my hips; the weight of a larger, heavier body on my own, sweating, callused hands on my ass for just long enough for spit-sticky fingers to stab into me, and my own startled and muffled shout, which wavered and hitched in my throat until those fingers were replaced with something a lot larger, something that hurt a lot more and turned my yells into screams.
I’m certain I was screaming for him to stop and that he was hurting me. Fairly certain, anyway. Not that it mattered, because he’d pushed my face into that muffling tackiness, until I couldn’t breathe at all, until I’d stopped struggling and mostly lost consciousness. Mostly, for I was aware enough that when the pain eased up, when he was done, I rolled onto my side immediately, coughing and hacking, my face covered in tears and snot.
I remember hearing laughter—familiar laughter, and from more than one person—before I really did pass out. And after that, I have no memory until I woke up fully dressed in the park the next morning, with a hangover, a nasty taste in my mouth, and a whole new world of aches I’d never felt before.
I remember it was dawn: beautiful, blameless, and blank, and that the walk home took forever, sore and achy as I was. If I thought anything on that endless, agonizing walk, I don’t remember it. I only remember needing to get home before my mother woke up, so I could shower away the evidence of the night before.
“A penny for your thoughts,” Bleddyn murmured again, but his voice was worried and solemn this time, his perfectly punishing massage turned to a soothing stroke. I sighed and stepped away from him to lean on Aderyn.
“I think if I told you, you’d demand your money back,” I joked, but it sounded false and too anxious even to my own ears. When I dared look at Bleddyn, he was watching me with that too-perceptive, too-serious expression.
“Will you not tell me what memory casts into shade the light that shines from you, my love?”
I looked away, blinking back sudden tears. “Damnit, Bleddyn, why do you have to be so…so…”
“What?”
“So sincere?” I complained, laughing even as a sob came out of me like a bark in between the giggles. “You care about me more than just about anyone ever has, and you’re so interested in me, and I’m really not that interesting or worthy of your concern.”
Bleddyn frowned. “You are worthy of every ounce of concern of which I am capable. And to me, you are interesting in no small measure, and to no end.”
“Oh, Bleddyn,” I laugh-sobbed again and buried my face in my hands. After a few moments of that, Bleddyn wound his arms around me tentatively, then more certainly as the laugh-sobs turned into just sobs, which soon turned into silent weeping.
And that, too, eventually turned to hitching and shuddering, until I was just resting in Bleddyn’s arms, letting him hold me as he imparted silent comfort. One of his hands rested against the small of my back and the other cradled my head and held it against his neck, where I breathed in the scents of sweat, horse, and metal that had come to mean home to me.
“If you wish it of me,” Bleddyn whispered. “I will take you back to the castle and never will I bring you here again. If the memories you carry burden you so greatly, to add yet another set to that burden may be disastrous, despite what the Gweddw Robert thinks.”
Sniffing, I straightened up and looked into Bleddyn’s eyes. Mine were still wet and probably red.
“Let’s just get this over with, all right? So that I can sleep without the aid of a sleeping potion.”
“But—”
I tried to smile. “It’ll be all right, Bleddyn,” I said, with more hope than certainty. But at least I didn’t promise. I couldn’t lie so hugely to Bleddyn, of all people. I kissed him, wrapping my arms around his neck. “It may not be easy, but eventually, it’ll be all right.”
After searching my eyes for the better part of a minute, Bleddyn nodded. “If you say so, my light.”
“I do.”
At last, returning the small smile I conjured up, Bleddyn held me close and kissed me thoroughly, intently.
“Rwyf wrth fy modd i ti, fy olau llachar a disgleirio.” I love thee, my bright and shining light.
“Rwyf wrth fy modd i ti, yn ogystal, mae fy sgweier golygus.” I love thee, as well, my handsome squire.
Bleddyn hugged me close and tight before stepping back. “Go and let the Gweddw know we have arrived, and I will care for Arwel and Aderyn,” he murmured, taking their reins and walking them to Gwenllian’s barn.
I watched him go, letting my heart fill with love for him, like a strong wind fills the sails of a ship. Then I turned toward Gwenllian’s cottage and marching to what I told myself was not my doom.
*
“You’ve arrived in quite a timely fashion,” Gwenllian said as soon as she opened the door, her green eyes seeming to spark and glow in the last of the day’s golden light. She was wearing a white, brown, and black calico dress, and her hair was piled into a messy upsweep on her head. Her sleeves were rolled up, and she looked ready for business.
I tried not to believe the snarky voice in the back of my brain that suggested this did not bode well for me. She waved me in, and turned to go back to her table, which was covered in vials and pots, small and large.
“Gee, is all this for little ol’ me?” I asked as I stepped in, closing the door. Bleddyn would, even if I left it open, knock as if he’d never been here before. The thought made me smile.
Gwenllian glanced up from where she was mincing or mashing a small pile of herbs, caught my smile and returned it fondly.
“Of course it is. And I have just finished your tonic.” She paused her mincing or whatever and picked up a tiny clay vial about a quarter the size of my palm.
I approached Gwenllian, gaping, and took the vial. “This is it?” I demanded, letting out a relieved laugh. Though I knew even as I laughed, my relief was premature. After all, sometimes powerful things came in tiny packages. Like tabs of LSD, for instance.
At any rate, I eyed the vial and sniffed it. “Smells minty. Like mouthwash.”
“The mint is to improve the flavor somewhat, for I fear the tonic is…not pleasant to taste. And you know, as well as I, Krishnan ap Karthik, that sometimes, powerful things come in small packages.”
I nearly dropped the vial and I was gaping again, this time at Gwenllian. It wasn’t the first time. “Can…can you hear what I’m thinking?” I asked in a quiet, stricken voice.
“Of course not!” she said, snorting a little as she giggled. Relieved yet again, I felt tension flow out of my shoulders like water out of a sieve.
“Well. Okay, then,” I said, laughing a little, too. But I noticed that Gwenllian didn’t seem unfamiliar with the concept of hearing the thoughts of others. Discretion being the better part of me not flipping the fuck out on one of my few friends in 1626, I filed that detail away under: Not Even Gonna Go There. “Okay,” I said, composing myself, “so, the tonic is done. Are there any special instructions for it. Any use-by date?”
Gwenllian went back to mincing with a chuckle. “It is, of course, most efficacious if taken sooner rather than later. And it’s best for you if not taken on a full stomach.”
“And why is that?”
Gwenllian glanced at me, then away. “I think the memory that torments you might manifest itself as physical illness. There’ll be less for me to clean up if you don’t eat before you take it.”
I grimaced and nodded. “Makes sense. Wait a minute. Less for you to clean up?”
“Of course. You were not considering taking the tonic at the castle, were you?”
“Well…”
“My dear Krishnan, should you start to call or scream for aid while in the grips of memory, can you imagine how the castle will react to that, especially in the middle of the night?”
To that, I had nothing to say. I wasn’t going to lie to Gwenllian and say that my memories weren’t so bad that they’d cause me to scream in my sleep? Stupor? Whatever the tonic did.
But still, to do it here where not just Bleddyn, but Gwenllian would see me at my less than best?
“She is right, Krishnan.”
I started and turned around to see Bleddyn standing in the open doorway, looking as grim as Rhys ever had. But he still looked good enough to eat.
I really hope you can’t hear what I’m thinking now, Gwenllian, I thought absently as I met Bleddyn halfway across the room and he pulled me into his arms. We gazed into each other’s eyes for a while before he spoke. “Gwenllian is right. Best to do it here, where she can care for you if the tonic affects you in ways which I cannot treat.”
“But…”
“Yes?”
I sighed and looked down. “I just want as few people as possible to witness me in whatever state I’ll be in.”
“Then here is where you will take the tonic,” Bleddyn insisted. “For if you do begin to yell or shout in the castle, it will not go unmarked. Many would come to your aid, there.”
“Oh, God, you’re right,” I said as the realization hit me that as much as I didn’t want anyone to see me compromised, at least one person had to see me that way. And it might as well be the person who could treat me if something went pear-shaped. I glanced over my shoulder at Gwenllian. “You’re both right. Okay. Here, it is. When would be least inconvenient for you?”
“Why, you were planning to take it tonight, were you not? And it will be most potent tonight, the fifth night of its brewing.” Gwenllian spread her hands as if to say there you go.
“Of course.” I turned back to Bleddyn, who was watching me with the most melancholy expression on his face, his mouth pursed unhappily. Smiling, I darted in and kissed his mouth till he, too, began to smile. “Here and now, it is,” I said. “On one condition.”
“And what is that, my love?”
I searched his fond, tender gaze. I’d catch him totally off-guard, and maybe even get what I wanted. After all, I had the element of surprise on my side. I hoped. For I was about to say something Bleddyn was not only not going to like, but would probably hate. And he’d be mad at me for demanding it. Well, that was just too damn bad.
“My condition is,” I said, nudging Bleddyn’s boots with my own, backing Bleddyn toward the open door. He looked confused but wasn’t resisting me. When his boots crossed the threshold, I stepped back out of his arms. “My condition is that you wait outside till Gwenllian lets you back in.”
And I shut and latched the door in Bleddyn’s suddenly understanding, suddenly furious face.
*
“Are you certain you wish it to be this way?” Gwenllian asked as I laid myself down in her bed. She stood at the bedside, holding the small vial containing my tonic.
In the recent silence—Bleddyn had finally stopped pounding on the door and demanding to be let in about two minutes ago, after nearly fifteen minutes. I hoped he’d gone to curry the horses or something and wasn’t just sitting out there waiting to be let back in. Because if I pictured him like that, I knew that I’d cave and go let him in. And then he’d see me. Whatever lurks below the masks I wear. And who’s to say he wouldn’t be disgusted? Pitying? Revolted?
I steeled myself and looked Gwenllian in the eyes. “I’m sure.”
Sighing, she unstoppered the vial and handed it to me as I leaned back on my elbows. I took it after a brief hesitation, then brought it to my nose to sniff it.
“Ugh! Vile! It smells like someone pissed out a garbage fire!”
“It is not a sipping sherry, Krishnan. It is a powerful calmative among other things.”
“And what other things would those be? You never did tell me exactly how this stuff is supposed to work.”
Gwenllian sat on the edge of the bed next to me. “Aside from its sedative qualities, the tonic also has hallucinatory properties. It will allow you to have waking dreams. Dreams that you will remember even after the tonic has worked its way out of your system.”
“And how long will that be?” I asked, thinking of LSD again. “How long till this shit wears off? I don’t wanna be trippin’ balls during Lord John’s Jubilee!”
“It won’t last that long, Krishnan. The effects will wear off within an hour.” Gwenllian said sternly, and I felt bad for having doubted her. “Now, soon begun is soon done. Drink.”
Which was her way of saying, Quit stalling and take your medicine, already!
Holding up the vial to the light as if I could see through the dark clay it was made of, I thought one last time of Bleddyn—my Bleddyn—and of Gareth. Of Owen and Islwyn. Of the friends I’d made since arriving here.
I had reasons to remember this nightmarish memory. People to be well for. And I would be well once I remembered and accepted whatever it was, and began to move on.
“Bottoms up,” I said, tilting the bottle up to my mouth and closing my eyes. It tasted green-brown and was vaguely minty. I nearly gagged, but I swallowed until the vial was empty, perhaps a mouthful and a half.
Shuddering, I handed off the bottle to Gwenllian without opening my eyes and laid back into her relatively soft bed. I kept swallowing spit in an attempt to hasten that taste out of my mouth.
“I’ll get you some water for the taste,” Gwenllian said.
“Thank you.”
When I opened my eyes, I meant to turn my head to watch her go, but instead, my glance fell on the window next to the front door. The shutters were pulled most of the way closed, but they were just open enough for Bleddyn to peer in. And peer in, he did.
Glancing away from Bleddyn’s dark, worried, angry eyes, I took the cup of water from Gwenllian. “Thanks.”
“Of course.”
I sipped at the water, swishing it around in my mouth. Thankfully, the tonic wasn’t oil-based, so it didn’t linger too long in my mouth or throat. After a couple minutes, there was just the taste of cool water and mint. I handed Gwenllian the cup and I laid down when I was done.
“Bring it on,” I muttered to my subconscious, even as I felt Gwenllian and Bleddyn watching me. I closed my eyes and noticed with faint amusement that there were already pretty colors swirling and writhing on the backs of my eyelids like groovy, psychedelic snakes. “Just bring it the fuck on.”
And, as if in answer to my challenge, the colors and lights on the backs of my eyelids winked out, leaving me floating and helpless, immobilized in total darkness.