by Wen Spencer
If Ren said it to settle him, it did not help. He could not imagine being father to this press of humanity.
Eldest Whistler reached over from her horse and took his hand. “Chin up. Eyes front. Show no fear.
You’re a Whistler-and your family will always be there if you need us.”
So his sisters brought him to the temple, escorted by his wives, while all the world seemed to watch.
Wives and sisters flanked him up the tall steps to the altar, and there his sisters fell back, leaving him alone with his wives, before the gods.
It was not the marriage he thought he would have, so many months before, when the horse-faced Brindles seemed to loom huge on his horizon. They shrank away now, like a kite snatched by the wind, gone forever.
Jerin reached out and found Ren’s hand with his right and Halley’s with his left.
Surely, the gods were merciful and loving. Surely they smiled upon this union, and he and his wives-Ren, Hal-ley, Odelia, Trini, Lylia, Zelie, Quin, Selina, Nora, and Mira-would live happily ever after.
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Document creation date: 06.01.2012
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