Gold Dust Woman
Episode 4 of "Hiraeth"
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The Chosen Court seek healing for their prophet, Braith, who remains unconscious. Thus far, they have dodged the deadly ferryman, and Ceri escaped abduction from slavers, meeting Bernardo, a shepherder she had to leave behind. Llewelyn tried to outrun his grief and ran into a giant monster instead.
Note: All Episodes has a character list in case you need it. It also links to a glossary of Welsh terms used.
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This episode’s theme song:
“You want how much?” Myfanwy stared at the man, fully aware of how bedraggled her Court looked to him. In the shadow of the temple gate supported by two marble columns, the priest wore a spotless chiton, clasped at the waist with a woven blue and gold belt. Her Court barely had one decent outfit between them.
They’d received cast-offs at a neighbouring village, after using the same excuse as before. “Hijacked by pirates. Shipwrecked.” The men wore short tunics and baggy leggings with holes in the knees, the women in long dresses but in such a coarse fabric, it scratched their skin. At least Braith had been spared that, wrapped in a dilapidated blanket, old and soft. Llewelyn carried her.
“How is this possible?” Medwyn stepped forward, his long dark brown hair captured in multiple braids that Ceri and the villager children had delighted in weaving. “You can’t refuse to use the gift of healing on anyone.”
The man’s expression didn’t change. “We will take gifts in kind, anything that will help sustain our priests and our staff and thus continue to heal people.”
“We were hijacked by pirates and shipwrecked,” Myfanwy told him. “We don’t have anything to give.”
The man raised an eyebrow. “Have you forgotten the gold about your neck? Ah, but you Celtic barbarians won’t give up your signs of rank, no matter how well you might speak Greek.”
Myfanwy touched the braided gold torc at her neck. She took it off and held it out to him. “Is it enough?”
Llewelyn sucked in a breath. :Myfanwy, not that!: he thought at her.
:Why not? I wear the symbol of Monarch on my skin.: Her mark’s blue shine remained hidden by her clothing.
The man took the torc, examining it closely. “It’s enough to get you started. You’ll need twice this for us to complete the treatment as she’s a serious case.” He glanced at Braith, lying still in Llewelyn’s arms. “I can’t guarantee a cure, but the god Asclepius has been known to grant miracles. Who will enter with her?”
“I will, of course.” Llewelyn held Braith closer.
Medwyn glanced at the two of them. :I know we need to raise funds, but I would like to see how their healing works,: he thought to Myfanwy.
:If we need your help, I’ll call on you,: she told him. :Go ahead.:
Llewelyn, Braith, and Medwyn passed through the temple gate. The remaining three descended the sloping road into the city’s heart. The temple stood at the southern-most point of the city, atop wooded cliffs above the sea. Further south lay the village where they had found clothing. To the north, the city’s streets descended to a port and a well-fortified island.
:It will be easy for me to raise coin.: Gwalchmei unslung his lyre from his shoulder.
:The market square’s a good starting point for us to seek employment,: Myfanwy said. :A city as large as this must have one. Or perhaps down at the port?:
Ceri looked askance at her. :Will they hire someone with grey hair?:
Myfanwy grimaced and tapped Ceri’s bicep. :It’s white, not grey.:
Ceri grinned. :Indeed, the two of you look like brother and sister with your matchy-matchy hair.: Both Gwalchmei and Myfanwy scowled in response.
They headed downhill. The city gleamed with white stone, much of it painted in bright coloured patterns. Off to the east, the sea glittered in the sunshine. The three dreigiau môr squinted, the light too bright for their sea-accustomed eyes.
They found the market square which bustled in the afternoon light, an almost dazzling overwhelm of people, sights, sounds, and scents.
Llewelyn and Medwyn followed the priest. They walked along a short colonnade inside the temple complex. They rounded a corner. The stout marble columns revealed a wide plaza, edged with several buildings of various sizes. The man led them into a two-storey building which had a central atrium open to the sky. It reminded Medwyn of home.
They followed him into a large room, which ran the entire length of the building. Along one wall stood a row of beds. Opposite, large windows let in sea air, while a deep portico shaded the inhabitants and protected them from wet weather.
The man found them an empty bed. “Stay here,” he said. “Someone will see to your companion shortly.”
Llewelyn lowered Braith onto the narrow cot and crouched beside it. He looked up at Medwyn. “What do you think? Will this work?”
Medwyn shrugged. “It’s clean, airy and spacious. More than that, it’s too soon to say.” He rested his hand on Llewelyn’s shoulder. “Have some patience.”
Llewelyn grunted, turning his attention to Braith, smoothing the hair from her face. She looked so much thinner since the storm. He hoped it wasn’t too late.
It was too good to be true. Ceri eyed the pouch lying on the bench. Beside it sat a young woman engaged in a deep conversation with another woman in the shade of a taverna portico. Both wore the softest fabrics in whites and creams. A scarf of the same material covered much of their dark hair. Gold flashed upon their fingers and wrists as they dipped bread into oil and snacked upon grapes and other delectables.
Ceri’s gaze returned to the pouch. Perhaps it contained nothing of value, else why be so careless in a busy marketplace? She watched a small dirty child approach, hand outstretched. A taverna maid darted forward and slapped the hand. The child ran away.
Ceri wasn’t close enough to hear the conversation, but the maid remonstrated with the young woman. The latter shrugged, tucking her pouch under a fold of her skirt.
Definitely valuable then. Ceri filed away the knowledge and moved along, weaving her way through the taverna customers and back out into the bright sunshine.
Something glittered on the ground. She bent, picking up a small round coin. She had no pouch, so kept her fist closed about her prize. People in Emporion seemed so rich that they were careless of their coinage, tossing it to those who sat hunched in rags in gaps between the stalls.
She circulated through the market, catching glimpses of Myfanwy’s white hair amongst the crowd. Ceri hoped Myfanwy had better luck. She watched a man drop a coin into an elderly man’s cracked bowl. Should she beg?
In the next moment, the man’s coin pouch was gone. He shouted after a youth, already vanished in the crowd. Ceri’s eyebrows rose. They needed money in short order. No time to build trust in getting hired and begging wouldn’t get her nearly enough.
Whole purses of coin on the other hand…
She retraced her steps to the taverna. The two women still dined there. One rose and disappeared deeper into the building, leaving behind the pouch previously hidden beneath her dress. Her companion chatted gaily with two men who sat at a table nearby.
Coolly, calmly, Ceri walked by, not even needing to dip her shoulder as she scooped up the abandoned pouch, switching it to her other hand. She kept walking, not changing her speed.
She left the taverna, crossing to the far side of the market square. Everywhere she looked, coin pouches hung off belts or were dangled by their strings, or rested amongst purchases in oblong baskets.
The beggar bowls would be easier to steal, but they had little, whereas these affluent locals had plenty. She was merely gathering coin the way her mother gathered the sea-rice, taking but not destructively.
A few coins. A pouch off someone’s waist. Ceri stepped into an alley and behind some barrels, consolidating her prizes into two pouches. She tucked them into her tunic, tightening her belt to keep them secure.
Gwalchmei’s thought interrupted her. :I’ve found work at an inn,: he told her and Myfanwy. :I’ll be working until late tonight. Meet me at The Hoplite’s Dream.: He sent them an image of the place.
Not long after, Ceri’s luck ran out. Someone shouted in surprise and anger. Without looking back, Ceri ran.
Beyond the market square, the streets fell out of orderly structure and into a maze. She heard the yells and ruckus of her pursuers. She ran through a fabric shop, ducking under the bolts of dangling cloth, and out the rear, into an alley.
:Ceri? Do you need help?: Myfanwy broadcast her question to all in the Chosen Court. They had felt her fright.
:Not yet.: Ceri gasped for air in her effort to put a greater distance between herself and those after her. She turned a corner.
Someone grabbed her arm.
She swung around, ready to claw herself free. Ceri froze.
“Bernardo?”
Wondering who Bernardo is? Find the answer here:
Bernardo stared at her, his eyes and mouth wide. His skin grew pale. “You—you’re the monster.”
Ceri shook free of his slackened grasp. “Dreigiau môr,” she corrected.
Shaking his head, Bernardo looked beyond her, further down the alley. His gaze narrowed. He hauled her to him, pushing her against a wall.
Ceri struggled. She scanned her surroundings for something to hit Bernardo with and she spotted movement in the alley. Her pursuers. She fisted her hands into Bernardo’s tunic, staring up at him, wide-eyed and frightened. She hadn’t thought about the consequences of being caught. Would it be bad?
Bernardo tugged her hands free of his tunic and pinned her arms above her head. He bent and kissed her, his head and broad shoulders concealing her from view.
She heard her pursuers pass by but cared not. Her body arched against his, meeting his deceptive kiss with hungry ones of her own. She thought the shielding spell to spare the others from feeling the full impact of her sudden desire.
Eventually, Bernardo broke away. She gazed up into the nut-brown face she thought she’d never see again. “What are you doing here?” they said at the same time. He matched her shy smile with one of his own.
“You first,” he said, releasing her wrists.
She lowered her arms. “The last village told us of a temple full of healers here.”
“And you were running because..?”
“We lacked coin for Braith’s treatment. They took Myfanwy’s gold torc and it still wasn’t enough. We need to get the rest to them by tomorrow.” Ceri ducked her head. “I stole some. Only from those who looked like they wouldn’t miss it.”
“Somebody has.” Bernardo shook his head, the light bouncing off his dusty black curls. “We should get off the streets. Those men might backtrack to look for you.”
He took her hand and ducked through a door that opened into an atrium, which reminded Ceri of home. Doors ran along the walls on each of the four sides. Bernardo led her across the courtyard, opening one of the doors.
Ceri followed him inside. The tiny room had space enough for a cot and a small table meant for one person, and not much else. A tattered cloth hung over the small window high on the wall. She leaned against the table while Bernardo closed the door. “Why are you here? What about your sheep?”
Bernardo sat on the cot, which creaked alarmingly under his sudden weight. His knees folded to almost meet his chest. “When you … changed, I went a little mad. They found me on the beach screaming about you and sea serpents.” He frowned at her. “You could have warned me.”
Ceri grimaced in apology. “I’ve never had to reveal my true nature like that before.”
“Once I came to my senses, I insisted on what had happened, that you’d all transformed into sea monsters. The Asclepius there suggested that I should travel to Emporion to see if they could heal me of my delusions.”
“But they aren’t delusions.” Ceri took two steps forward to stand closer to him. Tentatively, she reached for him.
“No, but I came anyway. Maybe they can heal this.” He tapped his chest, his dark olive skin visible in the deep vee of his tunic.
“You’re sick?” Ceri’s hand dropped to her side.
Bernardo noticed the movement and took her hand between his. “You broke me, Ceri. I came here because I couldn’t face going back to shepherding in the hills, to staying in my little cottage without you.”
“We can’t stay together.” Ceri sank down, straddling his thighs.
Bernardo tangled his fingers in her hair at the nape of her neck. “I know,” he murmured. “But we have now.”
He drew her head closer to his. Ceri didn’t resist, letting gravity pull them down onto the cot.
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Myfanwy slid into an empty seat at The Hoplite’s Dream. Her body ached and sweat drenched her meagre clothing. She nodded to Gwalchmei who held his audience spell-bound as he sang about the beginnings of the dreigiau môr. His lyre sounded even better Above Sea, she thought, wiping a tired, trembling hand across her brow.
Finishing the song, Gwalchmei sipped from a mug placed near his chair. :You look awful,: he thought to her.
:I found work at the port,: she told him. :Everybody in the market thought I was too old to hire.: She twisted a lock of her white hair around her forefinger. :Even though I’m not. A ship had come in, unexpected, so their captain was happy to let me help, once he saw I could lift his heavy cargo.:
:Seen Ceri?: Gwalchmei tuned his lyre to conceal his conversation with Myfanwy.
Myfanwy’s lips twitched. :Bernardo’s here. She’s staying with him tonight. It sounds like she made more coin than I did.:
Gwalchmei released a sigh. :We might have to impose on the innkeeper’s hospitality tonight. I’m not sure we have enough.: He shot her a quick grin. :Need to get back to this.: He launched into another epic ballad.
“What are you drinking?” a voice near Myfanwy asked.
She looked up and recognised the ship’s captain. He’d changed into soft robes of white edged in gold, showing off his trim physique. Myfanwy shrugged. “Anything refreshing.”
The captain shouted something to the innkeeper and sat next to her. Even in the inn’s gloom, she noted white dusting his close cropped black hair. Self-consciously, he rubbed his palm over his scalp. He nodded toward Gwalchmei. “Your brother?”
Myfanwy nodded. The truth was too difficult to explain. “Thank you for giving me work today.”
He regarded her for a long moment. “You’re here for temple healing.”
“Not me. I brought a dear friend,” she told him.
A maidservant delivered two large earthenware mugs. Myfanwy took a cautious sip.
:Is he bothering you?: Gwalch’s sharp question startled her and she swallowed more than she planned.
Myfanwy drank again from her mug to conceal her inattention, while she responded to Gwalch’s worried query. :I’m fine. He gave me employment today.:
“You don’t seem the type for dock work, or any type of work at all,” the captain remarked, after swallowing a mouthful. “You came up short?”
Myfanwy canted her head at him, a confused frown marring her brow.
The captain clarified, “Ah, not enough money for the priests?”
Her eyebrows rose in understanding. “I don’t know if we’ve made enough even now.”
The captain patted her forearm. “Your friend must be very ill.” His fingertips lingered on the back of her wrist before he withdrew his touch.
Your Turn
Take the poll to decide what happens next!
Author Notes
If you’re wondering if this is actually a two-parter episode, you would be right! You might think the poll question is minor, but it really really isn’t. There will be consequences to your choices.
So many of you (ok, it was only two) voted for Llewelyn and Myfanwy becoming mercenaries, but … I couldn’t quite get that to work—it’s not like mercenaries hang about town once they’re hired for a job, so you got all the others instead. But I do promise to keep it in mind for future episodes.
Emporion is a real place in Spain. It’s now known as Empuriés. Greek traders, and then later Romans came in, expanding the city. There is a real temple to Asclepius but I couldn’t find a whole lot of detail about it because a church had been built on top of it, so I borrowed from the healing sanctuary at Epidaurus. You’ll be seeing more about the temple in the next episode, so you’ll have to wait until January to peek into that rabbit hole of research!
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