Gaita of the Lake

Canto I: Rite of Spring

            South of the North Tower, but north of Glastir, lay the Great Hall of Rhyste, whose timber and stone walls were embraced under the first warm sun of Spring. The snow melted weeks prior and the first scent of green grass carried in from open shutters. Caked dirt proliferated on the town roads. Stores were nearly bare, but the first shoots of green onion and ramps made it the season for clear bone broth sopped with tough dark bread to warm chilled evenings. It was indeed Spring, and Spring carried life on its lips.

            Gaita looked from her bedroom window above the great hall. The air was cool but vitalizing, like the first plunge into a bathing stream. She sat at her bedside waiting for the first icy breeze to waken her fully. Down below she saw a little boy clopping on the stone road carrying potatoes to the family bakery. His hair was dark and reminded her of a boy she once saw many years ago. The orphan boy with the sad look on his face she wanted so badly to befriend. A powerful gust of wind blew her daydreams away and wiping tears from her eyes she awoke to the day. With that, Gaita got up from her bedside.

            She looked at herself in the mirror. She was in her white bedgown and her thick, dense mass of tawny hair hung to her head like a large dog whose paws were on her shoulders. Indeed, it was so famous around town that she was usually referred to as ‘Gaita the Mane.’ With a few aggressive flicks of a whittled bone comb, she tamed the beast. She grabbed her clean, light green kirtle and rushed to open the door to her room. When she did, a small figure stood in her way.

            “You slept through breakfast again,” the small figure said, now recognized as Thomas, her younger brother. “I came to tell you I ate your eggs and sausage.”

            “Well, that was kind of you. Do you know where mother is?” Gaita asked.

            “Out in the town,” Thomas replied, fiddling with a doll he was holding. “She said she needed to track down Old Lady Anne after breakfast.”

            “Already?” Gaita looked up to consider her options. “Ok, I’m heading out. Don’t tell anyone.”

            “You really shouldn’t,” Thomas said. “Mother doesn’t like you going out on your own all the time.”

            Gaita got her brown cloak from her wardrobe as Thomas spoke. She put it own and approached him once again.

            “I’m not going alone. I’m going with Nora.”

            “Same difference. What if I tell mother?”

            “Tell mother and I’ll put you in the barrel again.”

            “Fine, I won’t tell. But if you’re not home by sundown, I’ll tell mother, barrel or not.”

            “You’re sweet,” she bent down and kissed him on the cheek which made him grimace. “Enjoy your studies today, Thomas.”

            “I don’t like them. I want to learn to wrestle like you and father.”

            “Ask father to teach you then!” She called but was already down the backstairs outside of ear reach.

            The great hall was dark and calm, an unusual contrast to the bustling formal events and meetings. The torches and candles weren’t lit and it was filled with a spiritual presence as if it were a monastery without a clergy. Gaita passed through the empty hall to the kitchen to see if there was food to eat.

            She entered and found the cook absent, off shopping at the market at the butcher’s. Gaita raided the cabinets until she found some day-old bread, which she slathered with butter and honey. She stood while she ate, eating as fast as she could without choking. She found some watered-down wine and drank it, wiping her face with her sleeve, the crumbs sticking her side. She flung open the back door and passed the veil of light.

            The town was humming. The folk were greeting one another with smiles and hand waives as was usual after a long and lonely winter, like fellow travelers or old war friends, some of which were. Gaita waived and greeted those with smiles and hellos and passed the usual carts and houses to the stalls where Nora and the horses were. The bread baking in stone ovens filled the walk with delight and contrasted well with the cool breeze. She passed the small child she saw this morning, now sitting on a stool outside watching his legs kick out in front of him preoccupied with his fancy.

            The sun was warm and Gaita knew by noon she wouldn’t need her wool cloak. As Gaita entered the stables, she heard the constant brushing of a coat. Nora was dutifully working hard with the stalls almost all cleaned out and washed before Gaita stepped foot inside.

            “We are in need of saving,” Gaita said, surprising Nora, who hopped a little at the voice that called from behind her.

            “What is it this time?”

            “Mother rushed off to see Old Lady Anne this morning.”

            “Oh dear, that is urgent. Let me tend to old Backbreaker here and get him his feed.”

            Gaita helped Nora with the feed pales to the monstrous black horse in the back of the stable, her father’s horse Backbreaker. More like a draught horse instead of a war horse, it saw her father through countless affairs with the worn scars to prove it. After they carefully lowered the food into the pen of the haughty beast, they dressed and mounted their own steeds, headed for the back wooded hills behind the town leading to the secret lake. On the way, they talked.

            “She’s seen Old Lady Anne three times this week already,” Nora said.

            “They must be narrowing down the choices.”

            “She might have already found the one and are contacting his family.”

            “The old crows, I don’t want to marry this early.”

            The ride to the lake wasn’t especially long or arduous, but it was specific. The hills behind the town twisting on themselves as ancient wood does with thick vegetation and dark canopy. Without a keen knowledge of where to go, one could end up in the fox knolls or find themselves face to face with a bear.

            The entrance to the secret lake was especially hidden, as it was in the valley of a few hills and was barely wide enough to fit the great hall in. They dismounted their horses and led them on foot up to and through the tunnel that led to the clearing.

            Entering the arboreal corridor, Gaita almost gasped at the spectacle before her. Light from the sun radiated the lake and made it so it almost glowed like a faerie spring told to her in fantasies by her nanny with low grass perfect for lying in and picnicking. The air was especially good here as if it was aged to perfection like wine and danced on your tongues with every new gulp. Nora stood in the same spectacle and stood feeling as they were holding the hem of the Goddess of Spring’s green dress. They walked in silence until they reached the singular knotted oak that dominated the divine composition.

            “Hello again, Sir Tree,” Gaita said, bowing to the ancient oak.

            “Stop talking to trees Gaita, it’s strange.”

            “He’s my friend, Nora and I will great him every time I shall come here.”

            “Very well,” Nora said. She turned and bowed to the oak. “Sir Tree, greetings upon you.”

            They giggled and tied their horses to the lesser tree next to the great oak, whose name was Sir Not-So-Tall, squire to the great Sir Tree. They agreed they were perfect for each other.

            After tying horses, Gaita ran to the lake and jumped feet first into the shallow, the water freezing cold still from winter. She squealed and splashed about. Nora rolled her eyes at her.

            “Why must you be like this?”

            “Why must you not be like this. You want to be like this I know you do so stop pretending you don’t.”

            “I’m going to push you in.”

            “You can try, but I’m still one of the best grapplers in the town and I have no problem tossing you in instead.”

            Nora ran to the side of Gaita, but instead of getting in the water, she got low and scooped an armful of water and threw it at Gaita, whose eyes’ widened at the wall of ice water coming at her. She braced and was showed in the numbing liquid. Nora reeled in laughter as Gaita screamed and shivered. Nora held out her hand as she laughed and Gaita quickly grabbed it, pulling Nora into the frigid shallow water.

            “You cow!” Nora yelled as she frantically got to her feet.

            Gaita and Nora stood chattering teeth and shivering then giggling and soon they were wrestling, which Nora realized too late was a mistake. Shooting in from above, Gaita quickly grabbed the back of both of Nora’s calves, sweeping her cleaning off her feet like a rabbit snare before she toppled to the grass behind her. Gaita rushed in from above using her weight to pin Nora to the ground until she tapped Gaita’s arm for mercy.

            Gaita obliged and rolled over on the grass, giggling at her victory. She felt the c****x of her youth was now in this moment but laughter quickly turned dissipated and Gaita felt the future on return volley. She thought of the next few months of her life involving various worldly and adultly affairs converging. Dress sizing. Feast planning. Her anonymous husband to be. These years would slip into memory as she herself would become a mother and raise children and send them off to tutors and run a Hall somewhere until her child would attempt at being free and she herself would have to stifle them, watching them be tamed and whither and so on and so forth. Nora saw the smile leave Gaita’s face as she was deep in her thought.

            “Why don’t we run away?” Nora asked.

            “What?” Gaita asked, stunned.

            “Yes, let’s get a few items together and run away.”

            “Where would we go?”

            “I don’t know! That would be the fun. I know the next five towns by heart all the way to the Earl Mabon’s place.”

            “The Earl?”

            “Yes! They say he loves all people and delights in arts and performances and all we’d have to do is tell them who you are and I’m sure you’ll be welcome at his court.”

            “His court?”

            “Or whatever, company.”

            Gaita didn’t answer right away. She continued to stare into the sky thinking the thoughts she thought before Nora interrupted. She thought about her mother and how she loved her despite her constant nosing around. She thought about her father and his gentleness and how kind he is despite his monstrous size. She even thought about Thomas who also was kind, if not nosy, but he’ll grow out of it. She tried with all her heart to resist what the deep wishes in the back of her mind truly wanted but failed.

            Gaita turned to Nora and replied.

            “Let’s.”