Guardians of the Light (Book One of The Nebril Riverland Chronicles)

  Chapter 6

  The sun was setting behind the mountain to the west, the last of its orange rays dancing across the rocky peak. Dusty clouds lay in wisps, crisscrossing the pink sky. I stared into this brilliant display and wondered how something so beautiful could be in front of me, while something so horrible was waiting behind me.

  I turned around on the dirt path to face my house, and stood for a few more moments trying to find the courage to go inside. I saw that the lamp had been lit and a soft glow emanated from the front window that was more ominous than it was inviting. I could see my mother bustling around in the kitchen, preparing supper. I wondered what I would be having for dinner, along with my side helping of guilt.

  I had walked home slowly, feeling that every moment that passed during my journey was one less moment of freedom that I had. I just kept reminding myself of my promise to Jalya and Ashel as I helped them finish burying their mother. I would be back. If my parents didn't make me marry Callum, then I would be free to go back at any time. If they chose to force me, I would go back also, never to return to the village.

  The thought of never seeing my parents again tormented me, but not as much as the thought of them forcing me to marry someone who treated me badly. I stood frozen, staring at my home, wondering what their reaction would be when I came through the door. A few more minutes passed while I took deep breaths and gathered up my nerve, and then my father's face appeared in the window.

  'Too late to turn and run now,' I thought, as I felt his eyes staring right at me. I swallowed hard and took the last few steps from the pathway to the front door.

  It opened before I could even reach for the handle, revealing my father's stern face. I vowed not to be afraid. I was an adult now, old enough to marry. I shouldn't have to fear a scolding from my parents.

  "Hello Papa," I stammered.

  "Where the hell have you been Emerin, darlin'?" he demanded, without his characteristic quirky smile. I was taken aback for a second, realizing what level of anger it must have taken for my father to curse in front of us.

  "Uh, I was with Jalya...her....."

  "Jalya! What were you doing with her this time? Emerin, you knew we needed to have a discussion."

  "I know but...."

  "Do you just run off without telling us now? Do you know how worried we were?" my mother interjected.

  "I'm sorry, but I had to see her. Her mother just died."

  My mother dropped her mask of anger and finally allowed me to get past the doorway. "Hallen's dead? What happened?"

  "I don't know. They don't know how she died. Ashel just found her in the house and....."

  "Don't tell me you were with that half-breed boy again! Emerin, we've told you over and over to stay away from him," my father boomed, evidently not fazed by my death announcement.

  "Niel, please relax for a minute," My mother's voice was strained. I got the impression that they'd been fighting before I got home. She turned to face me again. "Is Jalya okay? Is she home now? Maybe she should spend the night here with us."

  "She doesn't need to do that, Ferine," my father's voice floated across the room. "We have enough to take care of with our own daughter right now!"

  But Niel, you know how her father is."

  "She'll be fine. Everyone's too hard on that poor man. Look at all he's gone through."

  "But he's...."

  "No, Ferine, no, that's final." My father sat down at the table and began shoveling potatoes onto his plate with exaggerated motions. "Let's just eat and then get this discussion over with. I've had enough for one day. You'd think a man could be happy the day before his only daughter's wedding, but no, not in this family." He reached across the table and stabbed a piece of meat with his fork. And the guilt had begun.

  I crossed the room to the table and pulled out my chair to sit. "It's okay Mama," I said. "Jalya's staying the night at Salare's house. She thought that we'd be too busy tonight to have her here." I figured that I should put to rest any notion that they might have that Jalya was still with Ashel. It was best that they thought she was back in the village.

  "Salare!" my father snorted. "Don't seem like that girl would be much of a comfort!"

  My mother ignored him. "Well, you tell her tomorrow that she's still welcome to come by or stay here any time she needs to. Even though you won't be living here anymore."

  My father took a bite of pork and then waved his knife at me. "You eat up quick now. Right after supper we're having a long talk about how you need to behave as a wife." I loaded my plate, wondering if I ate slowly enough that there would be less time to talk. However, after taking a few bites I realized that I needed to get what I had to say off my chest.

  "Papa, I'm sorry that I worried you today. And Mama." I glanced at my mother and smiled. She smiled back, all traces of anger gone. "It's just I was very upset about something."

  "What about, honey?" my mother asked. My father looked suspicious.

  "Well, yesterday after I ran off, and I'm really sorry about that too. Anyway, um, when I got back to the trading post with Callum, he was really angry and mean. He hurt me."

  "What do you mean?"

  I rolled up my sleeve carefully. The bruises were still there, as bold and convincing as they had been earlier. "See, he grabbed me hard and wouldn't let go, and when I told him he was hurting me, he threatened to hurt me worse next time." I could feel the tears coming and didn't try to force them back. They could only help my situation now.

  My mother leaned closer and inspected my arm. "Oh my, Callum did this? Goodness, why does it smell so bad?" She touched it with one finger, smearing the remaining goo. "What is this...did you put something on it?"

  "Jalya did; she had some salve...."

  My father's fist slammed down on the table. "I knew it. You have been out to that damned cabin in the woods! Jalya wouldn't have this witches' brew in her home. This is the work of that foul woman. We've told you before that you're not to go out there anymore; it doesn't matter if she's dead now. You are not to see that boy...or to leave this village!"

  He stopped to take a breath and lowered his voice slightly. "Emerin, it's become plainly obvious that you will not listen to us on this matter. We cannot seem to control you. Perhaps, however, Callum can."

  My tears were flowing freely now, running down toward the corners of my mouth as I spoke. "But Papa, look at this....this is his idea of controlling me!" I stood up, holding my arm out toward him, hoping desperately that if he saw it more closely he might change his mind.

  "Oh now, that's just a little bruise. You should see the ones my Papa used to give to me. Even Jalya, look at some of the lickins she got. It'll be gone in a couple of days. What I'm hopin' is that it made a bigger impression in your mind."

  "What do you mean?" I sobbed. This didn't sound good; it was like he approved or something.

  "Listen darlin', I've been talking with Callum; he's been having a lot of concerns about you. Just today, in fact, he was here looking for you. He told me that he had to get a little rough with you, but the poor boy felt bad about it. He don't wanna hurt you, pumpkin, but he's gotta find a way to scare this behaviour outta you, for your own good. For the good of your family. What happens when you got babies, Emerin? You can't be wanderin' off then."

  It was true. What he was saying made sense. I couldn't be a mother while I was like this. However, that didn't matter because there was no way that I would ever be a mother to Callum's babies. I left this thought unsaid though, and decided instead to tackle the disturbing notion that he actually condoned this violent behaviour.

  "You actually want him to hurt me?" I choked out. "You think this is okay?" I turned from the dinner table and went to sit in the rocking chair, using its motion to soothe my frazzled nerves. I couldn't believe I was hearing this.

  "Well darlin', he won't hurt you if you behave yourself."

  My mother shot a glare toward my father, then came over to kneel next to my chair. "I know this is hard, ho
ney, and I'm not saying that what Callum did was right, but honestly, you have no other choice."

  "We could contest it," I offered meekly, realizing how futile this was before the words even left my lips. "Callum's parents contested it already...did you know that? Maybe if we did also, then Reverend Grell and the elders would unite me with someone else. Someone who wouldn't do this!" I rubbed my sore arm, causing the noxious odor to permeate the air once more.

  My mother wrinkled her nose, but looked at me sympathetically. "Oh Emerin, we would if we could, but that just can't happen." She looked back over at my father as if to seek his help, but he only stared at his dinner plate. There was something they weren't telling me.

  "Why not?" I asked, though I feared the answer. "Why can't we contest it? What's gonna happen if I don't marry Callum?"

  My mother sighed and wrung her dress with her hands, twisting the fabric in different directions. "The elders have decided that if you don't marry Callum....and if you don't stop running off and acting strangely, well...." She paused, as if to gather the strength to force out the rest of the words. "The elders are planning to send you to Lock Up."