The herb-woman has told my sister in her letters that all the villagers deliberately keep away from the rest of the world. But you came freely to the cities today, didnt you?
Thats right. The druid inherited the lands from the former lord, his father, and immediately started to build the community in the way it would have been thousands of years ago. I dont really care about any of this, but Hom used to say that if things had gone differently, we would have worshipped the one God and there would have been no bonfires and no drunken binges.
Having listened to the story, Vita nodded,
It was this freethinking that instigated our people to settle at your place for a while.
How did you feel in other places? Pagey asked.
We were always free to do as we pleased. But good fortune to be free can be hard. You know. Women with guns and all that. My sister was once caught behind the marketplace in Avignon and her hair was cropped short. If you dont want long hair, dont have hair at all. The crowds rioted in the streets, pelting us with stones, apple cores, and spits. So, Ive had a good beating.
But how? the lad was amazed. Why do you look so confident?
Well, combat childhood can tough up anyone.
I can see your point! You know, he whispered. Lekki found me as a baby, I was constantly taunted by villagers calling me a changeling brought by fairies. They threw matches at my back to see whether I would start laughing. Horror.
The Gever girl patted him on his back trying to cheer up,
Weve both been through hardships. Well, the world can be merciless.
Pagey still couldnt believe his luck how he, a paltry apprentice from the apiary, had suddenly met someone who supported him. Who shared his views and followed the same direction. However, he suddenly remembered something that made him seriously nervous,
Hold on. You said that the herb-woman wrote a letter to your sister?
Yes. Whats wrong with that?
Were banned to write letters.
What the hell is this? Vita didnt believe.
Letters, telegrams, all printed materials are banned.
So, you can travel to the cities, but you cant read newspapers from the cities or correspond with people from here, can you?
Something like that. The druid believes that the word written or printed has great power. And Mr. Kelly calls it, let me think, propaganda! Propaganda of dogmatic monotheism and broken hearts.
Why broken hearts?
Because we are forbidden to be alone or often meet with those whom we are not engaged or not married.
This is a fine kettle of fish, the girl said in a sepulchral voice.
They hadnt been back to the topic of gender relations in the village any more.
They still managed to do the shopping at the fair before it closed up. Vita bought apple cider and Pagey got an impressive dried roses herbarium for no good reason.
On the way to the station, he pointed to the cider and herbarium trying to make an impression, and said trying to look smart,
Weve bought Venus plants, havent we? By the way, I know the Roman pantheon as well as ours! The apple tree belongs to Venus because its fruit is a symbol of motherhood and prosperity. A rose means a woman. A lady. Noble and beautiful, saying these words, Pagey blushed crimson red and turned away.
Vita stepped closer and stretched out her hand to pull a strand of hair back from his face behind his flaming ear.
Beautiful, you say?
He stared at her, staggered by the intimacy of the gesture. No one ever touched his hair, cared about him to be attractive, demonstrated excessive tenderness. Lekki provided him shelter and home. Sometimes, the herb-woman visited them and clipped Pageys dark streaks making him look decent. Hom occasionally patted him on the top of his head it was a playful gesture of being silly, a gesture of being in game. No man in the world dared to put his hair behind his ear like that.
Pagey was finally able to exhale,
We should go back.
The journey to the village was long and clinging to winters chill. The train, for some reason, stopped at the Rotten field and did not move for more than an hour. With nothing better to do, Pagey and Vita were drinking tea in the dining car, cold and stale. Rose herbarium being bought at the fair shattered into small dried pieces and could not be restored.
This day subsequently threatened to become one of the happiest in their lives but so far neither the assistant to the beekeeper nor the Gever girl could not imagine anything like this.
* * *
As they were coming up to the village along the river, the boatman pointed sharply to the wild river bank covered with tall reeds.
Come out here, he said.
But why? Pagey began, but the man cut him off abruptly,
She gets out here. She cant be noticed at the river crossing with you.
Approaching the shore, he raised his oars. Pagey helped the girl to get out of the boat and without saying goodbye, just silently watched her sneak among dry reeds covered with hoarfrost and headed to her place at the wasteland.
Hom was already waiting for him near the crossing. Annoyed and cold, he walked up and down the pier. When he saw the boat, he could not stand up,
There you are! Been looking all over for you. Lekki said you had left.
Im not a baby, I can get back home on my own! the young man snapped back stepping ashore.
But I was worried about you crossing the river.
Dont be so silly. Pagey began but immediately checked himself.
No one should speak of insidiousness of the river in the presence of Hom. Everyone was afraid to stir up memories of the drowned Woolf in him. Though so many years had passed, it seemed as if the ghost of the boy still followed his friend, and there was no escape from this chase.
The boatman, having finished his business and bolted the piers fence, did not seem to be in any hurry. He just inspected a velvet bundle which he took from his inside pocket but immediately hid it back and silently watched the bickering of two village youths.
Why is that pervert looking at us? Hom growled and turned to the man, Hey, mister, isnt it time you closed the crossing for tonight and go home?
Im not in a hurry, said the boatman carelessly, lighting another cigarette that flickered brightly in the winter darkness. I still have to bring the watch being mended to the druid, so theres no hurry. The druid goes to bed late.
Hom, leaning towards his friend, noticed ironically,
Imagine: this low-down guy dares to go to the druid at the manor.
Pagey did not like Homs mood, so he toned down deciding to flatter the blond using the most surefire way pretending to be in need for someone elses rhetoric and intelligence,
Tell me about the winter night, smart man.
Hom blushed. Clearing his throat, he put on a solemn face and started,
At this time, the Sun-God is just being born. The sun is reborn from icy blackness because the day slowly begins to increase during these long winter nights. The darkness retreats to admit its complete defeat finally and everyone can witness the victory of the King Oak.
Does King Oak always win over the winter?
The snow stopped crunching. They stopped in front of the hill. Hom nodded wrapping himself deeper in his plaid scarf,