When he looked back to Mungan and the Lady, she was gone, replaced by a girl who looked exactly like her, but smaller. She was roughly the same age as Goldach, about ten years old, with bright red hair and pale greenish blue eyes. She stepped forward and kissed Goldach softly on the lips, which sent an electric shock throughout his body. It made him dizzy, almost to the point of falling down.
“My name is Coventina,” she said. She presented Goldach with a rather plain looking flower stalk. He accepted the gift and presented he with a perplexed look.
What is this? He thought.
“That is a flower of the Gold Dock plant, the mystical cure for stinging nettles,” she said, “and your namesake.” She held up the fringed ends of her dress and curtsied respectfully to Goldach. “Would you like to take a walk with me through the fields?” She asked. He was suspicious of this girl who had just been a grown woman. He did not trust her one bit. He looked at Mungan.
“Mungan, what’s going on here?” Asked Goldach. Mungan had bent down and was investigating the right rear wheel of the wagon. His back was turned to Goldach and Coventina. “You’re really going to kidnap me and send me off with some shapeshifter?” He asked. Mungan remained focused on his task, nodding his head imperceptibly. His body began to shake and convulse slightly. Goldach could tell he was laughing at him.
“Are you laughing at me, Mungan?” Asked Goldach.
“No, I’m laughing with you, son,” he said. “Why don’t you go with Coventina? She can answer your questions much more thoroughly than I. I am just a simple bookbinder,” he said.
“I don’t want to go with her,” said Goldach, looking straight into her eyes. As he did, his words trailed off. Her eyes are quite stunning, he thought.
“Why, thank you Goldach,” she said, and curtsied again. She produced two matching hats made of tightly wound burlap fabric. She handed one to him, and placed the other on top of her copper colored head. “It’ll keep the sun out of your eyes,” she said. The sun was low in the sky and rising quickly towards the noon. Goldach thought the hat was a sensible gift; his eyes had always been extremely sensitive to light. He placed the hat on his head, and was suddenly willing to go with Coventina. She grabbed his hand, and they walked off in the direction of the sunrise through the green fields.
There were tall hills that lay in the distance, covered in green even to the tips, surrounded by the dense network of canals and streams that linked the land to the wider sound beyond. The pathway was coarse gravel, leading straight towards those hills, through the tall green fields that stretched out as far as he could see. She had released his hand, and now ran out ahead of him, throwing her hat into the field. Goldach kept his, to protect his vision from the still low sun. She stretched out her arms and twirled around, falling over into the field.
“Do you ever do that, Goldach? Have you ever spun around and made yourself so dizzy that you fell down?” She asked. Goldach did not answer. He pretended to not have heard her comment, looking out into the shimmering green field. She kept staring at the side of his head. He felt the hot iron of her stare.
“What?” He asked her, annoyed by the prying eye.
“Have you ever done that, Goldoc?” She asked again. He shook his head.
“No, I have not,” he said, “and what’s it to you?” He asked her. She did not answer for a long time. They kept walking. She picked at the crops that flanked the dirt road occasionally, eating their flowers. Goldach kept silent. He didn’t know what to say to her. More time passed. She appeared to be deep in thought. Her face lit up and she walked over to Goldach.
“Alright. Hold on right there,” she said. “Close your eyes.” Goldach closed his eyes, and he felt her slap his back, right in between the shoulder blades. His ears started ringing and his eyes crossed. His vision was doubled.
“What’d you do that for?” He asked.
“You’re too serious, Goldach. You really should loosen up. This might be your last chance for a while,” she said.
“What are you talking about?” He asked.
She spoke another language, one he did not understand. He did catch the meaning, but her abrupt change threw him off. He thought on the meaning. Soon, your training period will begin. You will speak only in Latin, and translate texts for the Catholic Church! His face got red. He thought of Myrridian. He could see his face in his mind’s eye, laughing at him, then looking at him sternly. He looked at Coventina. So, this is my punishment? Myrridian sent me here to be punished? He felt rage rise in his throat, and Coventina sensed it. Her small frame grew, then shrunk back down. She had become an elderly woman, sufficiently startling Goldach into forgetfulness. She seemed very angry. What was I mad about? He thought.
The elderly Coventina looked down at Goldach. There seemed to be fire emanating from her eyes. She reminded him of what had angered him moments earlier.
“This is no punishment, Goldach, just part of the training you are destined to complete and surpass. You’re not getting out of it this time,” she said, flashing a grin. With that smile, she became her child self again, baffling Goldach.
“I have to sit down,” he said. He sat down right at the edge of the field, dizzy and exhausted. “I don’t know if I can keep up with you. How do you do that?” He asked.
She was skipping around the gravel path, kicking up some dust at Goldach. She walked over to him and gave him the flask of yogurt to drink. He held it up to his nose and sniffed.
“It smells rotten,’ he said. “What is it?”
“This, my friend, is your salvation. I know about your special dietary requirement,” she said. A scene quickly flashed in his mind. He had the meteoric iron dagger in his hand, and a large male boar bared his neck to it. It began to slice through the thick flesh when the flash was over.
“Isn’t that rather inconvenient for all involved parties?” She asked. He sat mesmerized. “The concoction in that flask is my own invention. I usually reserve it for gestating women, but having thought about your illness, I believe we may have the cure,” she said.
“Well, I’d rather drink blood. This smells rotten and inedible. I demand to know the ingredients immediately,” he said. Rather than being offended at his insolence, she threw her head back and laughed. Goldach began to laugh with her. He then realized he was laughing at himself, and she still had not answered the question. She stopped laughing abruptly.
“This is the ingredient list, Goldach. Goat’s milk yogurt, from the milk of a brown nanny by the name of Aeval is the first. Next, the key ingredient is blood from her utter.”
He wrinkled his nose and put the cap back on the flask.
“The final ingredient is a yogurt culture passed down to me by the great Merlin, Saint Aurelian himself,’ she said. He felt as if a knife had been plunged into his heart. Upon hearing the name, he removed the cap, tipped it back, swallowed, and shuddered as it went down. The mixture had a familiar musky and slimy texture to it.
“You’ll get used to it,” she said. He glared at her and tipped it back again. There was no need to get used to this dreadful brew; it was already more familiar than boiled potatoes. Goldach, in his previous incarnation as Aurelian, had drank thousands of gallons of it. This was his most vivid recollection from that time. He had developed a nauseating aversion to the smell and taste of goats.
“Tastes like it’s good for you,” he said. He smiled and began to heave, choking it back down. He did prefer the boar’s blood. The goat’s natural smell reminded him of carrion, food fit for vultures and raccoons. Coventina nodded her head once, walked over to Goldach, and offered her hand to him. He was dizzy and the breakfast churned in his stomach, threatening at any moment to make a return visit to the outside world. He did not want to stand up; even less did he want Coventina’s assistance in the act. He ignored her hand and strained himself upward and onto his own to feet.
Thanks for the goat and the hat, but I don’t trust you, he thought. Coventina smiled, but it was an evil look in her eye. She looked directly into his, silently. You don’t have to trust me. You just have to do as I command, she thought back at him. Her face lightened and brightened. She was laughing at him again.
“I was just kidding,” she said, but Goldach was having none of it. His face turned red again.
“I don’t have to take this,” he said. He turned around, intending to walk back towards Mungan and the wagon. He couldn’t believe his eyes. There was no Mungan and no wagon, but an expansive coastline had taken their place. The waves crashed onto the rocks below them. He turned back around and she was there, right in front of him.
“You’re so cute when you’re mad,” she said. “Walk with me Goldach. The yogurt is probably taking some effect now.” He thought about it for a moment. He willed himself to disregard the lingering odor and taste in his nose and throat, and noticed she was right. He was feeling stronger.
“What happened?” He asked, gesturing towards the salt spray from the water. She didn’t answer, but gently took his hat off his head and threw it into the water. She took his hand into hers and they began to walk the path again, the one that appeared to lead to the green mountains ahead. We don’t have much time left Goldach; you’re going back to Mungan soon. She picked two large flowers from the green herbs of the field, and handed one to Goldach. She took a bite of hers and began to chew. Goldach looked at it.
“Try it, Goldach. It’s one of the best medicines we have,” she said. They continued to walk, away from the water and toward the hills. Goldach put the entire flower in his mouth and chewed. Coventina’s eyes widened.
“You remember that too; it was always one of your favorites,” she said. They kept walking together, holding hands most of the time. He wondered what Coventina wanted, and why she was here. The sky began to change colors, as the sunset was coming. “Let’s go back to the water,” she said. They turned around and walked back towards the waves. Through the rocks was a sandy path. She led him down it, and there was a tall rock with steps carved into it, as well as strange writing. They climbed the side and sat facing the spray of the ocean and the large sky, where the sun began to dip below the watery horizon.
“Goldach, do you ever wonder whether you’re dreaming or awake?” Asked Coventina. He did not answer. A feeling of acrid fear ran through him; she knew too much. He stiffened, then loosened. Be natural. He thought to himself. He didn’t want to give himself away, but she already knew.
“I already know what?” She asked him. He clamped up tight, not wanting to reveal any of his adventures in the dream world to Coventina. She knew too much. She was dangerous. “Goldach, sometimes you’re so dense. I just wanted to tell you that all this has been a dream,” she said. Immediately, he knew. She was lying.
“I’m telling you the truth,” she said, putting two fingers to his mouth. “You are about to wake up in the back of the wagon.” He looked at her and started to laugh. He threw his head back and closed his eyes and laughed harder and harder.
Mungan’s thickly calloused hand was on his shoulder, shaking him. He was on the floor of the wagon bed, rolling around, when he was roused from his dream.
“I reckon he had a rather humorous dream,” said Mungan. He turned around and looked back, away from Goldach, and she approached. It was Coventina.
