The evening ended and the next day Branwen set them to work learning the trees again. Eirnin left halfway through when a runner came up, gasping for breath and wiping sweaty hands on her short dress, calling him over. Something about his family. He paled and went with her, leaving his two students and co-teacher watching in worry. After that, Branwen's whip-crack voice had softened somewhat, and when they were distracted she didn't rap her knuckles on their heads in admonishment. The day passed in a blur and the next day, and the next-- Eirnin still hadn't returned at Merlyn's gut churned with anxiety with each passing day. 

They moved on to different things, animal lore, myths, stories of the gods of their people. Eirnin didn't return. Branwen's bluster, for that was what it had been, faded away completely. The three children took to their studies to drown out their worry and pretended not to notice when their teacher, after pausing for lunch, would whisper into an oak tree, a prayer to the spirit of the tree to take her good wishes to her friend. It wasn't until three months had passed and the summer heat had boiled them thoroughly did word arrive of what had happened. 

The drwyd who brought the news was stone faced as he said it, and bile rose to Merlyn's throat. Eirnin's wife and four children had been alone when he had volunteered to teach the initiates and their farm had been attacked by roving outlaws. They had raped his wife and eldest daughter, butchering the whole family and setting the farmhouse ablaze. The horses and cattle had been either stolen or slaughtered and when the scar on the earth had begun to tingle at the senses of the drwyd in the village over, she had arrived to a scene out of nightmare. 

Eirnin was staying there, giving up his rights to teach the initiates. After telling his bitter tale, the man had scratched at his short cropped brown hair, expression pained. "Anyways, I'm to be his replacement. My name is Arlan. Branwen, come speak with me about what you've taught so far. It is unfortunate, but we must make the best of this tragedy," he said, voice scratchy. The children were released from their lessons for the day, given free reign of the surrounding forest and pond. Half an hour later they were lying in the clearing where the pond was, sunlight streaming blindingly through the trees. 

As the grass tickled the small of his back and a beetle crossed over the toe of his boot on some tiny mission, Merlyn was struck with the memory of lying on the grass with Taliesin before he'd been brought to the Drwyds. The wave of nostalgia hit him like a wave and he closed his eyes. A rustling noise drew his attention away and he opened his eyes, squinting in the sun. Brisen had hiked up her light cotton dress and kirtle, and stood in the water at the edge of the pond, water creeping up her rough woven leggings underneath. She turned, dropping the edge of her dress, trailing it in the damp to wave at both the boys.

 "Come on, guys! It's really nice," she said, eyes bright. Merlyn groaned, rolling over to bury his face in his arms. "I'm too lazy, you can splash Gwyn," he said, hearing Gwyn's spluttering protest from beside him. "No way am I getting in that water just to have Brisen dunk me or something, you can't make me... Ah, no!" Merlyn sat up at Gwyn's shout but it was too late. Brisen had leaned over and flung water out of the pool onto the both of them, doubling over with laughter as their shrieks hit octaves they thought they wouldn't be able to reach anymore.

 "That's it! Payback!" Merlyn flung himself to his feet, stumbling over his toes as he crashed into the now anything but peaceful pond. Forty very wet minutes passed and they sat on the bank of the pool, clothes soaking wet and panting. The ground around the pond had been churned to mud under their feet but none of the three seemed to notice very much. After Arlan and Branwen had found them they'd gotten scolded severely and sent to change into different clothes.

 Despite getting in trouble Merlyn couldn't stop grinning at the memory of the fun. He and Gwyn had gotten back at Brisen squarely when Gwyn had upturned his cupped hands full of water over her head. He'd laughed hesitantly as she turned, snarling on him, but Merlyn didn't let the outraged girl get closer. He'd also dumped water over her head and when she spun on him the shy boy's laughter had shook him so hard he couldn't breathe. Hours later as they lay in the comfort of their bedrolls and blankets, the heat of the summer cooling in the nighttime breeze, he still couldn't contain his smile.