[Nurumaiel]

Maercwen sighed when Aedre left and sat down outside the kitchen, listening painfully to the sobs coming from within. She felt close to tears herself, suffering accutely every particle of her brother's pain. It had always hurt her and she knew it always would. She loved all her brothers and sisters dearly, but she could not deny that Gomen had always been her special brother. She remembered as a child she had nearly died of impatience, waiting for his birth, and how from his first days she had hovered about him, assuming the role of his little mother. Gomen had been passionately attached to his mother, and when Giefu had been born he found himself suddenly ignored by her, or so he felt. Certainly she didn't pay as much attention to him. But Maercwen had come and spent all her free time with him, though she had been only a little girl herself. And so they had grown up with each other.

In the kitchen Gomen slowly ceased in his crying and put his head wearily on his mother's shoulder, letting the last few tears slide down his cheeks. Frodides continued to stroke his hair but drew him back a little so she could look into his face. "Now, darling, would you tell me what is wrong?" she questioned him. Tears began to waver on the brink of his eyelids again, but he drew his sleeve across his eyes and held them back bravely.

"Mamma," he said, letting his head fall on her shoulder again and closing his eyes, "there was a beautiful young girl who came to the stable with her horse. She was so beautiful, Mamma..." He paused, and despite his sorrow added earnestly, "Though not nearly as beautiful as you!" He fought his tears back once again as he recalled what had happened and continued in a trembling voice. "And I was going slower than I usually do because she was so beautiful; I just wanted to look at her for a moment. She grew impatient and annoyed with me and she... she struck me!" The last three words were cried out amidst the sobs that once again racked his body.

Frodides reached out and touched the red mark on her son's cheek with gentle fingers. She had wondered about that mark, and now she knew. "Gomen," she said, her voice comforting, "you mustn't hold it against this girl that she struck you. I understand your grief, and also the shock it must have been to you. And I know nothing such as this has ever happened to you. But your father will tell you often that when he was a stableboy at his father's home he was often struck by impatient ones. It never ceased to hurt him, so he told me, but he learned to bear it bravely and return the cuff with a smile." She patted his sore cheek. "At least, dearest darling, you know that your dear sister has never struck you."

His face brightened a little and with shyness he pushed his head deeper into her shoulder. "No, Mamma, nor have you," he said. "But it still hurts."

"Yes, darling," she said softly. "It does." And no more. Gomen felt peace flooding him. His mother understood. His mother didn't tell him not to cry. She did not tell him it was foolish of him to cry over such a small thing, nor that he should just bear it as a man. She told him that it did hurt but she comforted him. She was the dearest mother in the world.

In accordance with his slight brightening, she allowed a cheerful smile and took his face in both her hands. "Now, Gomen, would you keep Hearpwine waiting any longer for the walk? Run along dear, and tell him. Perhaps on this walk he will teach you another song."

Gomen's sorrow vanished and he swelled with excitement. Kissing his mother's cheek, he skipped out of the kitchen, a smile on his tear-stained face. Yet there was still a queer little ache in his heart as he came to Hearpwine. "Oh, Hearpwine sir," he said, hoping the tears on his face did not show plainly; "I am quite ready to go now, if you are. Yet I would not interrupt you if you are in the midst of a conversation."

Maercwen had seen Gomen leave the kitchen and was glad. There was at least a smile on his face. Feeling as though the world were beautiful again, which she knew it surely was, she retied her apron and returned to the kitchen to continue with her work.