Samuinn: A Fictional Narrative

Words: 1663
Pages: 7

Taran had always enjoyed all Samuinn had to offer: beef stew from the cattle slaughter held the day before, children bobbing for apples for prizes, and he even enjoyed painting the villagers’ faces black, an old custom thought to ward off the evil spirits. Walking around with soot-darkened faces made the night seem all the more magical and mysterious. He even liked setting out the offerings of nuts and apples around the edge of the celebration circle, a symbol that the spirits of loved ones passed were welcome.
But this Samhuinn, Taran experienced one emotion, heartache, and the accompanying pain that gnawed at his breastbone made him wonder if there was something really wrong with him; the pain was that deep unyielding.
In the dark, Taran
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Gods, he was losing Veerah. She moved away from him one painful step at a time.
“I also love trees,” added Veerah. “And horses.”
A group of children shouting and playing tag concealed Veerah and Robert, so Taran missed most of the exchange. By the time the children moved on, Robert asked, “Can you come to my home for supper tomorrow? I like to cook. Women’s work, some say, but I enjoy it.”
“Yes. I have tomorrow off from my duties with the queen.”
“Ah, yes, how is she? Such a fair and beloved woman. It must break the king’s heart to see her like this.”
It sounded as if Robert had no idea Taran and Veerah had had been a heartbeat away from betrothal. The man was blameless in this situation, but Taran still hated him.
“It does. He loves his mother very much…”
“Boars ballocks, Taran, what are you doing hiding here?”
Taran jumped and spun around. There stood Bili, a stern look on his soot-darkened face. He appeared wilder than ever tonight.
“Fuck, Bee, I was –”
“Spying?”
Taran frowned and nodded.
“I have to get back to Asla, but what are you doing here? And what’s Veerah doing with Robert?”
“It’s a long