Isn’t It Too Big

by Naomi Penn

  “Murderer.” She rasped yet again. “Slayer of the innocent.”

  “Sienna Paean, you have dishonored the clan yet again.” One of the elders in the council intoned in a deep voice. “This time even more gravely than ever before. Consorting with rival clans and cavorting with their men-folk. What have you to say for yourself?”

  “Why do you still want me here?” She screamed. “Let me go… I am of age and a master of my own destiny.”

  “You know we cannot allow that.” The man continued in a sepulchral tone. “Our bloodlines cannot he watered down. Our clan must remain pure. As the spawn of the great Sagan, you have a responsibility to the clan…”

  “I have nothing… this clan is dead.” Sienna laughed out brashly. “You choose to remain sequestered in your own limited world while all around you everything is changing. We are a dying people because you refuse to accept change.”

  “Our way of life is what keeps us strong.” Kane spoke up. “We cannot idly sit and watch our children slip away to ways that are not meant for us. What future does that hold for us if we let our progeny walk away from all that we hold dear?”

  “So says the great chief who cannot sire an heir of his own.” The red haired beauty sneered, much to the surprise of the council.

  “Hold your sharp tongue, lass.” Regan Holm, elder and clan historian wagged a gnarled finger at the defiant young woman. “Garth Kane is a great man, and he chooses to honor his lost love… by remaining faithful, even after the void claimed her.”

  “Yes, ancient one.” She snickered. “We have all heard of such a tale… but isn’t thirteen years too long a time to mourn?”

  “Indeed it is.’ Kane smiled tightly. “Elder Holm, trouble yourself not over my accord.”

  “You are as courteous as ever, great chief.” Holm smiled warmly. “Yet she must learn to respect her betters.”

  “Undoubtedly,” Kane nodded, and glared at Sienna. “I have two choices for you, daughter of Sagan. One, you will be wed to Daren Han, as per your late sire’s wish, and hold dear the customs of our people… or two, you will serve as a slave among us until you have redeemed all your offences. Choose wisely.”

  “I have a third, an even more profitable choice for all of us.” She cried, narrowing her eyes. “Banish me from here and all of you drop dead. That should solve the problems of the clan entirely.”

  “It seems our precious delinquent here suffers from an affliction that requires a more robust remedy than mere imprisonment by slavery or betrothal, my brothers.” Holm rubbed his wrinkled hands together, smiling tightly.

  “What do you propose, Elder Holm?” The first councilman who spoke asked, leaning forward.

  “Since she has a special discontentment toward Garth,” Holm waved at the hulking chieftain. “I propose that she be confined to his care and make it his personal duty to educate her in the ways of our clan.”

  “We agree.” The others nodded.

  “You honor me greatly, my brothers.” Kane exhaled heavily. “I will do whatever I can, for the clan…”

  “Enslaved to the great Garth Kane.” Sienna screamed. “Oh, kill me now… you old fools have honored my father well.”

  “Silence!” Kane growled. “Take her away. The judgment has been passed.”

  ***

  His nostrils flared as he took in the tell-tale scent in the air. It was still fresh. The Elk was a large one, judging by its hoofmarks in the snow as it moved from tree to tree spraying its territory with its virility to draw in a mate. He glanced at Hagar and put a finger on his lips, jerking his head in the direction it was most likely to be next.

  The canine-master nodded his understanding and waved at the other hunters as he released the two hunting dogs. Kane stood back, breathing a little easier as he watched the well-trained animals silently pad through the snow. He had done this countless times over the years, yet each time it felt different. He lived for the thrill of the hunt, it made him feel alive - the only thing that did these days. He missed Julia every single day but he accepted that she was gone forever.

  The barking of the dogs and the thrashing in the dry brushes made him look at the direction he had deduced the Elk to be hiding in. He was seldom wrong, if ever. The thrum of arrows being released from taut bowstrings told him he was not this time as well. Fresh meat was always welcome. He smiled in satisfaction at the size of the hunted animal. It was a large bull, and slain cleanly, without allowing fear to make its muscles flex too much. The meat would be good to eat.

  “Well done, my brothers of the hunt.” He waved at the others. “Stack it with the other kills and let us head back. We have enough meat for a week now.”

  “All thanks to you, great chief.” Hagar walked up, leading his dogs. “Yet we have to travel further each hunt.”

  “Once the winter passes, the land will welcome back the bounty as ever.” Kane patted one of the dogs on its broad head. “Now come, we must salt the meat for curing.”

  Returning to the village, Kane instructed the meat to be sent for butchering. Every family was to receive an even share. It was a well contained barter system. The fresh meat the hunters brought in gave them the right to receive weapons and armor from the blacksmiths, bread from the bakers, milk and produce from the diary farmers, fish from the fishermen and so on. Life for the Highlanders of the Northern Mountains couldn’t have been better, if only their numbers were not reducing so fast.

  “The clan will need sons and daughters to prosper.” He thought ruefully. “And who am I to enforce such a law, I the great chief who does not have an heir of his own.”

  He opened the door to his stone walled hut and dropped his shield and blade. The house of the chieftain was the largest in the village and the strongest built. For years it had stood and served as the home of chiefs. Sagan lived there before him, and Sienna grew up there. And now she was a prisoner in her own former home. He sighed and glanced at the locked door that led to the cellar. That was where he had been keeping her since the council had passed its judgment, a few hours ago that morning.

  At first she wouldn’t stop screaming, so he found it impossible to be near her and decided to go on the hunt. The hunt always cleared his mind, filled his heart and made his spirit rise. He stared at the door, wondering if he should go down and check on her, since he had heard no sound after his return. Perhaps she had fallen asleep.

  Holding a small platter of roasted deer meat, Kane carefully opened the cellar door and walked down the thick stone steps. He had removed her shackles earlier and left her free of any bonds, assured that she could never find a way out of there. He sighed in relief as he spotted her sitting on the floor with her head resting on the side of the bed.

  “Ah, the great hunter returns.” She said, surprisingly in a pleasant tone. “And with nourishment for his dear little prisoner.”

  “You are not a prisoner, child.” He said slowly, placing the platter before her. “Eat and gather strength. You are not what you pretend to be, Sienna… I can tell.”

  “Oh, so you also have the power of witches and warlocks now.” She smiled slyly and licked her lips. “What are you going to do to me here… great chief? Are you going to bewitch me?”

  “You are in need to know and honor the proud legacy of your clan, for what your father and his father before believed in and died for.” He said solemnly, placing a hand over his massive chest.

  “And do you believe in the same.” She asked, her emerald eyes sparkling in the low fire he lit in the hearth.

  “I… I do.” He exhaled heavily. “And even though I have suffered more than most… I want only the best for our people.”

  “Yes, indeed.” She nodded, almost affectionately. “After all you are the chief… everyone looks up to you.”

  “What are you so hostile about, Sienna?” He looked at her directly. “What has driven you to do these things?”

  “Are we not free?” She glared at him. “To live as we want. Why must I be confined to ways dictated by m
illennia long traditions that have no place in the changing world of today?”

  “Yes, we are free.” He said resolutely. “Yet to survive this harsh world, we must keep together as a group and a clan. Strength in numbers, unified as one we are stronger than we can be alone. And we need certain rules in place to keep us together as equals.”

  “But that gives you no right to impose upon those who want nothing of your ways.” She gritted her teeth, fingering the edge of the platter before her.

  “As a clan, Sienna, we are diminishing, and we need every one we have to keep ourselves strong.” His voice was heavy with remorse. “Young men and women are necessary for the survival of our people.”

  “Yes, we are diminishing.” She nodded glumly. “But we can do so much more if all the squabbling clans can unite as one… and live together in peace.”

  “That is a naïve notion only a child can hope for.” He shook his head. “The lands grow ever smaller as we take from it. Integrating with other clans will hasten our demise.”

  “You only think selfishly for our own…” She countered hotly.

  “And do you think that the others do not…” He gave her a look of annoyance. “Every clan only cares for its own. And were you not such a fool to believe that boy, you could see what I say is true.”

  “That boy whom you killed.” She cried, memories of Muriel filling her mind. “He was the chief’s son and he promised me…”

  “The boy lives, and his promises are but wisps in the air,” Kane snorted.

  “All he wants is you writhing under him.”

  “And what do you want?” She demanded of him.

  “I want you to be honorable to our clan and wed Daren.” He sighed, knowing well what her response would be.

  “Daren is a fool and I would not wed him if he were the last man alive.” She gave concurrence to his expectation.

  “He is a great warrior; he does his late father and my best friend, Goran Han, proud.” Kane said with conviction.

  “Then you should wed him.” She laughed. “Since you admire him so much.”

  “Your mind is addled.” He shook his large head. “What manner of strange berries and herbs have you been eating?”

  “More than you know, great hunter.” She retorted. “I am living a life, unlike you, who is no better than the dead.”

  “Why seek you to persistently mock me?” He said coldly. “Does the loss of your father vex you so to show your ire on me, for taking his mantle as chief?”

  “Do not speak of my father.” Sienna’s green eyes flashed. “You are half the man he was.”

  “I am in agreement on that accord.” He accepted gracefully. “Yet you dishonor him greatly with your constant insurgent behavior.”

  “What would you know of insurgence, Garth Kane?” She laughed mockingly. “You’ve only lived a life ordered by rules and restraint?”

  “Rules and restraint have kept us strong, as a clan.” He accentuated his claim with a ham sized fist thump on his broad chest.

  “And yet we lessen in number each winter.” She rolled her eyes at him.

  “All the more reason you are needed among us.” Kane leaned closer and touched the platter.

  “As what, a birthing device?” She twisted her lips in disgust.

  “As a member of the Clan.” He pressed, holding up the platter to her.

  “And why do you not fulfill that obligation?” She stared into his pale blue eyes. “Or are you not capable of siring offspring?”

  “I am not the one in need to this remedy…” He almost snapped at her.

  “And why not?” The redhead asked him with a show of concern. “What prevents you from contributing to the future of the clan you are so proud of?”

  “I honor my wife…” He looked down at the cold stone floor of the cellar.

  “Your wife is dead… but you are not.” She replied dryly.

  “She lives in my heart.” He clutched at his chest emotionally.

  “And you called me naïve?” She laughed out loud. “Tell me the truth; you are unable to sire a child. You have not enough of the seed a man requires to…”

  “Sienna!” He controlled himself with difficulty.

  “It is told that even after three years your wife was not able to conceive,” She went on mockingly. “…perhaps that is what killed her, the shame of being wife to a man who…”

  “Silence!” He roared, unable to take anymore. “Your impudence must be harnessed… or else…”

  “Or else what?” She challenged him, smiling boldly. “You will not surely slay me.”

  “What?” He stood up, pointing a trembling finger at her. “No! But be warned… you are exceeding your boundaries and there is so much a man can…”

  “It is told that nothing hurts more than the truth when given openly.” She leered at him.

  “You have been warned, woman.” His entire frame shook with rage.

  “Ah, it pleases me that you see me as a woman now and no longer a child.” Her voice dripped with sarcasm.

  “A child, yes… that you are… and you must be treated as such.” His eyes went wide and a malevolent lust misted over them. “The switch, your tender bottom shall feel the sting of the switch wielded by my mighty hand.”

  “Oh, yes, yes… O, great hunter and mighty switch wielder.” She goaded him on, holding out her arms to him. “My soft and tender buttocks are in need of your loving care.”

  “Brazen woman, you force my hand.” He snarled and clutched around at the air in frustration.

  “So what stays it…?” She purred shamelessly. “Lay your hand on my brazen buttocks… or are you incapable of that as well?”

  “Arrgghh!” Kane growled like the very bear he resembled as he grabbed the laughing young woman and threw her over his knees.

  He pushed her elk skin coat up and pulled down her breeches. Oblivious of the smooth white skin of her well rounded buttocks, blinded by his rage, he brought down his enormous, battle callused hand hard. She bit down on her lip firmly and could not stop the tears. The stinging blow was more painful than anything she had ever felt in her life, but she didn’t cry out. Her body trembled as he struck her again and again. She knew she wouldn’t be sitting down well for a while, and yet something about this was strangely enjoyable. She wanted to feel his hard hand strike her again and again. Along with the pain, a strange sensation of pleasure coursed through her with every strike.

  After about a dozen blows, Kane exhaled deeply and paused, his large hand resting on her smarting buttocks. Absently he let his thumb caress the smooth soft flesh as he came to his senses. He looked down at her semi-nakedness and gasped. In his mad rage, he didn’t realize he had stripped her halfway and assaulted her. A deep sense of shame washed over him and he quickly covered her exposed flesh and pushed her off his knees. Rising swiftly he ran out of the cellar and locked the door, ignoring her whimpering sobs that strangely sounded like laughter.

  “A drink… I need a drink.” He stumbled around the house. “Mead… Wine… anything.”

  He found a small clay jug and emptied the contents in one swift motion. It was not enough, barely leaving an aftertaste on his lips. He calmed down and glanced over his shoulder. There was a lot more wine and mead in the cellar but he wasn’t ready to go down there anytime soon. That hell-spawned woman had made him lose his mind. It would be a while before he could consider going down there again.

  “I need fresh air… to clear my head.” He grunted and rushed outside.

  It was dark already and the stars were twinkling in the clear sky. A strange night, he thought, different from the usual cloud covered ones that lasted a few hours so far up north. His head felt light for a while and he sat down on the hard packed ground outside his hut. Visions of Julia filled his mind and he drifted off, slumping down on his side right over the stone steps of his home. Anyone looking at him would smile at the sight of the great chief on another one of his drunken stupors. Only this time, he wasn’t quite as drunk
.

  When he woke up, it was still dark, and the clouds were back where they were supposed to be. He couldn’t see the stars anymore. A dream, he thought and looked around. But the memory of what happened in the cellar a while ago was too clear to have been a dream. He shook his head and got to his feet. A fear crept into his heart, fear of what he had done. He had to go down and check on her. He had never behaved in such a manner with another before, least of all a woman almost half his age. Praying for redemption to the gods of frost and snow, he made his way back inside and anxiously opened the cellar door. Half expecting her to come flying out, he braced himself, but nothing happened. Perhaps she was asleep this time.

  He stepped inside and over to the bed. The fire had run out and the cellar was cold once more. He lit the fire again and waited for the pale glow to fill the room. She was on the bed; he could see her shape in the dim light. The platter was still on the floor, though it was empty. She had eaten the meat and that made him feel a little better.