Chapter 7
Seven
In our great room sat the redheaded boy from Sorelois.
I was certain that my eyes were deceiving me. I was tired from my trek, overwhelmed with visions. But there he was, older now, hair muted to auburn, but instantly recognizable next to his giantess mother.
Any confidence I’d gathered from my newfound name faded in an instant. My chest went hot. My mouth went dry. I fiddled awkwardly with my hands.
Galehaut looked up at me, expressionless. His mother rose to greet me, nearly knocking her head against the low-hanging rafters.
“I’m Bagotta, of Giant’s Island,” she said, clearly not remembering our first encounter. “In case you couldn’t tell.”
She had a sweet, smooth voice, a voice you could drink.
“Your new riding instructor,” Viviana explained.
We shook hands. Bagotta was tall but not hulking.
Her white-blonde hair was short and arresting, but her biceps, veined and bulging from a sleeveless tunic, were what caught my eye first. I pictured her strangling two men in the grip of her elbow.
I pictured her laughing as she did so. Even her hand, as we shook, was threaded with muscle.
Galehaut stood to join us. The shape of his face was just as I’d remembered it.
He had a compelling jaw, a stately nose, a defined brow, dimples.
Yet his features, in aggregate, were as smooth as river stone.
He wore a tunic embellished with amber beads and laced to the hard stretch of his shoulders.
His trousers, cinched with a silver belt, hugged strong legs.
His brown eyes were like the rings of a tree, bespeaking something ancient.
They conveyed poise and forethought, utter control.
The intensity of his presence overwhelmed me.
“This is my son, Galehaut,” Bagotta said, as if I didn’t know. As if I hadn’t measured myself against him for the better part of a decade. Next to his mother, he was less imposing.
“Clearly not full giant. His father’s from Ireland. The freckles.” She swirled a hand over her face. “We call his father Brunor the Bad, little family joke. Anyway.” She turned her hard eyes to me. “You seem… sun-flushed? Parched?”
I suddenly felt small. Words escaped me.
“Is that blood on your knees?”
“I was up on the mountain,” I said. Then, sensing that was insufficient, I added, “I fell.”
“Right, well.” Bagotta adjusted her belt. “You’ll have to get used to falling now that we’re here.”
I laughed nervously.
“Bagotta is the best rider in the Distant Isles,” Viviana affirmed. “And one of its finest fighters. She’s here to teach you how to be a knight.”
Was this Viviana’s plan all along? To bring Bagotta here? Or had my sudden fit spurred the sisterhood into action? Either way, I was surprised that these arrangements had coalesced so quickly in my absence.
“Galehaut’s going to train with you,” Bagotta explained.
“For the next two months. He’s already a fine rider, and quick with a sword.
Coolheaded.” She punctuated this last word like a warning.
On her watch, my gales of emotion would not fly.
“But we don’t have the extensive library that you have here on the Isle of Women,” she continued.
“And no one has more knowledge of the natural world than Viviana. Galehaut has a lot to learn.”
“It’s true,” said Galehaut, looking to Viviana. “I may be strong. But I’m very, very dumb.”
Was he making a joke? I couldn’t tell if he was irritated, condescending, or just being playful. Viviana was neither charmed nor aggrieved.
“Good thing I am a great teacher,” she said.
“I’m sure you are. Though I was already receiving a thorough training on Giant’s Island.
” Bagotta shot him a withering look and he quickly added, “But I’m eager to learn everything I can here.
I’m just starting to discover the history of the mainland, and the ancient chiefdoms. I know little of astronomy and nothing of medicine. ”
“Well, why don’t I show you the library?”
As Viviana ushered them out of the room, I fought a wave of vertigo. This was not a dream. Galehaut was really here. The sisterhood had bent the rules for him as they had for me.
I took a seat on the bench by the hearth, where Elinor was sipping an herbal drink.
“You made this happen, didn’t you?”
I watched her eyelashes flutter up and down. Her skin was very wrinkled, and through the wrinkles I could see her beauty, and her resemblance to my birth mother.
“What do you mean?” she said, feigning ignorance.
“It was your idea.” I lowered my voice. “To bring them here. I know it was.”
“It was all Viviana.”
“I’m willing to wager you planted the seed.”
She waved me away. “All Viviana,” she reasserted, but the curl of her lips betrayed the truth.
“At the lake I saw my mother’s memories. You featured briefly.”
“Did I?”
“You greeted her here, when she came to the Isle. Why didn’t you tell me? Why didn’t you tell me that you were my grandmother?”
Elinor’s face went stoic, distant. “My relationship with your mother was complicated. When I joined the sisterhood, she felt abandoned. We did not part on the best of terms, and I was never sure how she’d feel about me having a prominent role in your life.
I was too old to raise you, and I wanted you to know Viviana as your kin.
She needed you as much as you needed her. It was the arrangement we made.”
I had so many questions. But the answers, I sensed, would take time to unspool. Still, I needed to know more about my birth mother.
“What was Elaine like?” I asked.
“She was bright, kind, endlessly patient. She was terribly funny. She made me laugh. She had a talent for music. And like you she wasn’t afraid to crack a few eggs.
Now go catch up to them. We can speak more of this matter later.
” With a wink, she waved me on. “To the degree that the sisterhood allows.”
I wanted nothing more than to sit with her, to pepper her with questions, to bask in the proximity of kin. But there would be time later. And I needed to keep up with my new instructor.
Viviana showed them the library, the kitchen, the stable and barns. I trailed behind, saying nothing. Galehaut had a precise, upright walk, one befitting a knight. I tried to stand taller.
We ventured to the temple, where some of the sisterhood sat in prayer. They were dressed in simple gowns that fell across one shoulder, a style preferred for its ease and comfort on our island of perpetual summer. Viviana greeted them.
“Lotta, Sebile, this is Bagotta, queen of Giant’s Island, and her son, Galehaut.”
Queen, I thought. Bagotta hadn’t introduced herself as such. This meant that Galehaut was a prince.
The women kissed Bagotta on both cheeks, gave Galehaut a polite nod and avoided looking in my direction.
“It’s an honor to have you here,” Sebile said to Bagotta.
Sebile was the quietest of the sisterhood, with curly white hair and dark skin. Her diamond ring caught the light.
“We’ve arranged accommodations for you on the beach,” said Lotta.
Of all the descendants she was the most ethereal, with short flaxen hair, a lithe figure, emerald eyes and the softest dusting of freckles.
Galehaut seemed to take her in with an affected detachment.
“You’ll have your own cottage, the closest one to Viviana’s. ”
“I appreciate it. And thank you for making an exception for my son. I assure you he will abide by your rules and treat your island with respect.”
They went silent for a moment. Then Sebile looped her arm in Bagotta’s. “Come, let us show you your dwelling.”
Bagotta would stay in the hut, and Galehaut would take my room. Though it had two beds, he was a prince and our guest, and he deserved his privacy. I’d unroll a mattress across the bench in the sitting room.
Viviana turned to me. “While we get Bagotta settled, you’ll continue to show Galehaut around?”
I nodded and tried to act agreeable. The women departed, and for the first time Galehaut and I were alone.
He roamed about the temple, inspecting its various relics, eyes glazed with boredom and annoyance. A few moments passed in painful silence.
“Are they always like that?” He picked up a deer skull, holding it to the light.
“The deer skulls?”
He rested the relic back on its plinth, smirked a little.
“No. The women.”
“What do you mean?”
“They’re a little… distant, no? I suppose this is the Distant Isles, but still.”
I laughed, a bit too loudly. My eagerness like a rash.
“Yes, ha. They don’t pay much attention to men.”
“What about you, though?” He moved closer, inspecting a pair of terra-cotta lamps.
“What about me?”
“They must take kindly to you.”
I let out a sarcastic laugh. Clearly he had not heard about the harp. “Not really,” I explained. “Viviana raised me. One of the descendants is my grandmother. But I am not one of them.”
Was I breaking a rule, I wondered, by revealing that Elinor was my kin? I had barely sat with the knowledge myself and now I was giving it up to him readily.
“You are not one of them,” he repeated my words. “So you’re someone else.”
He stared into my eyes, like he was trying to unnerve me. It was working. How to tell him that until today, I didn’t even know my name?
“I’m still not sure why I’m here, if I’m being honest,” he continued. “My training was going just fine on Giant’s Island. Women are different there. I am quite close with my older sister. But I have many male friends, too.”
The implication being that I did not.
He picked an herb off the votive table, held it to his nose. “You don’t say much, do you?”
I flushed with embarrassment. This was going poorly. My mind seemed incapable of articulating even the simplest of thoughts. I floundered for a response.
“I don’t leave the Isle much,” I said, the pathetic truth prickling against my neck.
He opened his mouth to say something, no doubt a cutting remark. You don’t leave the Isle? Could hardly tell. But he stopped himself. Instead, he rested the herb back on the table.
“I’ve met you before, you know. In Sorelois.”
“Oh?”
“I watched you almost get kidnapped.”
“You did? That day…”
He remembered me. After all these years. Galehaut had carried that moment with him, and here I was, pretending that I didn’t remember him also. I could tell he was trying to read me, searching to see if I possessed a matching memory of him.
“Yes, well, I hear there’s a prophecy about you,” he said. “That you’ll be one of the greatest knights. Do you think you will?”
“Me? Oh, no. I’m not sure. Probably not.” I tried to maintain my composure, but this was the first I was hearing of my prophecy’s contents. It was unsettling to learn it from him. “How do you know this?”
“Bards,” he said, as if I were an idiot. “How else?”
“Oh. Bards.” A silence. “It sounds like you’re already on your way to becoming a great knight yourself.”
He waved a hand through the air, as if swatting at a fly. “I suppose,” he said. “Thankfully our stay here will be short.” His eyes narrowed. “What happened to your arm?”
“It’s a long story” was all I could manage.
He looked at me like I was the oddest person he’d ever seen.
“Right.”
As we left the temple and crossed through the clearing, he stopped to pick a white dandelion. He held it to his lips and was about to blow, then stopped and handed it to me.
I looked at him quizzically.
“Go ahead,” he said. “You probably need the luck.”
I washed and dressed in fresh linens. I’d spent years building Galehaut up in my mind, and now he was here, he was real, and he seemed completely unimpressed by me.
Before the lake I had stopped caring, but now I suddenly cared about everything.
My lineage, the prophecy, and now him. The changes were disorienting and would take time to absorb.
The only grace was that they were all happening at once, making it impossible to dwell on any one revelation for long.
Instead I focused on my appearance in the washbasin.
The messy tousles of hair, the lay of my tunic, the way my chin seemed to jut forward.
I was seeing myself with his eyes and I had to turn away.
Fine then. We’d train together, and that would be that.
I combed my hair with my fingers, rubbed circles over my temples. The dandelion seeds had dappled the sky. I prayed they’d do the work of the gods.
At supper, Galehaut ate his vegetables in small, deliberate bites and washed it down with polite sips of ale. Viviana noticed he had not touched the cod.
“Do you not like fish, Galehaut?” she asked.
He smiled sheepishly. “I don’t, I’m sorry. It’s my worst quality. Especially living on an island.”
His honesty was disarming. Were our roles reversed, I would’ve forced down the fish out of embarrassment.
“Not to worry,” Viviana said. “We have an abundance of fowl and boar here, and all sorts of fruits and sweets.”
“I do love sweets.”
“As does Lancelot,” she said.
“Plum cake is my favorite,” I said, casting the thinnest of lures, wondering if he remembered.
“That’s my favorite, too.” He looked down at his lap as he said this, a muted endorsement.
I scrambled for the right response, a way to make hay of this, but my mind went vacant.
“I think you’ve figured out the secret to a happy life, Viviana,” Bagotta said into the lull. “Living on an island with so few men.”
Viviana flung her hair back. “It certainly has its advantages.”
“We have too many on Giant’s Island,” Bagotta joked. “Maybe that’s why our home is called the Castle of Tears. Our poor daughter Delice can’t swing a dead cat without knocking into another suitor. No offense to dead cats.”
“It’s true,” Galehaut said, laughing. “My sister will make an ideal queen one day. She takes after our mother.”
“Is that the succession on your island?” Viviana asked. “Through the female line?”
“Birth order,” Bagotta explained. “Son or daughter, doesn’t matter. Though I think women make better rulers.”
“I don’t disagree,” said Galehaut.
“That’s not to say the girls aren’t lining up for Galehaut, too,” Bagotta added.
“Oh, Mom. Please.” He was blushing.
“You don’t want me to bring up Cymidei?”
“Mother.”
“She’s the most beautiful giantess on our island,” Bagotta stage-whispered to Viviana behind her hand. “Galehaut is betrothed to her.”
I slowly rested my knife on the table.
“How lovely to hear!” said Viviana.
“Thank you.” He nodded curtly.
“And what of you, Lancelot?” Bagotta asked.
“What of me?” My voice was reed-thin.
“Is there a maiden you’ll one day marry?”
My blood ran cold.
“Yes.”
Viviana shot me a confused glance. Galehaut kept his eyes on his trencher.
“I just need to meet her first.”
At this, the table burst into laughter. Dessert was served. I was silent for the rest of the meal.