Nature's Tribe

by Jacky Gray

  Unfortunately, his success led to him being very much in demand, with the start of the feast delayed because he didn’t have the heart to cut short the detailed accounts from each family he’d helped, along with the effusive thanks of every member of their family.

  On the side of fortune, however, it also led to each one of those farmer’s wives providing hampers of home-baked pies and pastries along with several barrels of ale, skins of wine and a bottle or two of good brandy-wine. The two handfasting couples’ families had provided a good feast for a normal sized gathering of friends and family. When shared between the entire village, however, it amounted to a meagre portion for each guest.

  Senna noted that Alfun took Jarl’s advice and drank a beaker of milk before touching a drop of liquor. With no thought to their waistlines, he and Cora happily tried a taste of every dish presented to them by the grateful women.

  Without the rigour of Arnaud’s army of servers and performers dictating what should be eaten and when, the entire afternoon felt much less rigid and controlled. Senna enjoyed the freedom to choose whatever she wanted to eat and drink. Since becoming pregnant, she had been unable to tolerate any manner of strong liquor; even small beer had led to a reappearance of her previous meal. In fact, her daughter had been extremely intolerant of many foods, especially anything too sweet or starchy, so Senna’s diet had mostly consisted of fresh vegetables and fruit, eggs, nuts and cheese. Warming pottage always bubbled on her hearth during the colder months, but she reduced the amount of bread, cakes and pastries, along with meat.

  For today, however, she was drawn to all those things which had previously made her ill, rediscovering the delight of rabbit pie and crusty bread dripping with creamy butter. And she finally sated her craving for sweetness, sampling a mouthful of many of the delectable puddings and pastries, sighing with pleasure at each burst of honey and even early strawberry. Lyran noticed her sipping wine and asked if it was advisable after the last time she’d drunk it.

  “Apparently, Lyrelie has decided I should enjoy this meal. I believe you are right, and she is getting ready to appear even though we are not expecting her yet.”

  “How considerate of her. I suspect we have created a young lady with all the strength of character of Jarl. Or maybe even Dagda.”

  Senna laughed. “Goodness me, another rod for our backs? We must ensure she learns to take her turn in life, and not give in to all of her demands.”

  “Why do you look at me so when you say that? Do you think I will not be able to resist the wiles of an infant?”

  “Never.” She glanced at him. “You will dote on her like a besotted swain and jump to her every cry.” A sharp kick in her ribs reminded Senna that her daughter could apparently hear and understand every word. At her wince, Lyran’s grin turned to concern.

  “Was that a birth pain?” He started to rise from his seat.

  She pulled him back down. “No. Merely Lyrelie demonstrating her power over us; it appears she did not like the manner of our conversation.”

  Lyran’s expression suggested the game he had begun now moved into a strange territory he was not comfortable with. Before she had time to address his concerns, Cora’s father stood, bashing a dish and beaker to gain everyone’s attention.

  “Thank you to everyone who attended, and for those who could not make it, we shall be sending a small hamper so they can share the celebration.”

  Several men raised their beakers to toast “absent friends.”

  “I shall not keep you away from your supping too long; I merely want to wish my daughter and my new son every happiness. You have chosen well, my dear. I’m pleased to welcome the hero of the village into our house and our hearts, and to thank everyone who gave so generously to make this a feast truly worthy of Freya and Lugh. To Cora and Alfun.”

  As everyone toasted his health, Alfun stood, embarrassed by the round of applause as his normal witty lines appeared to have deserted him.

  Finally, he held up a hand. “If you don’t stop that racket, there will be no time left for supping.” Amid the chuckles and smiles, he found his courage. “I would like to add my thanks for your generosity, you have made this day very special for us. I’m no hero, and the remedy would not have been possible without the skills of Lyran, Senna and Farmon.”

  “Aye but you had the brains to put it together. I doubt even Tyrel coulda done that.” The man stood to make his point; he had the largest farm and the most to lose. “I’d as soon pay you double what Tyrel asked for your knowledge and patience with the animals.”

  Several other men shouted their agreement, and he gestured at them. “See. They all appreciate your skills e’en if you won’t call yersel’ a hero. But would you call yersel’ an animal healer? There’s more than enough work for you and Lyran to share.”

  Alfun glanced around, his face stricken with panic and doubt. “It is a generous thought, but I shall have to ask my wife …”

  Cora stood. “Yes. You were born to do this job, my husband.”

  “And Lyran …”

  Lyran stood. “Yes, yes and yes. Very soon, Senna will have more pressing concerns than the health of our village, so it will be good for me to take back the healer role and let her be a mother.”

  At those words, Senna was struck by a massive pain – Lyrelie had immaculate timing.

  9 – All is Well

  Having Paulina at home proved to be a gift from the gods in the days after Lyralie’s total upstaging of Cora and Alfun’s wedding feast. Senna snuggled under the blanket, luxuriating in the decadence of lying in bed for a full two hours after dawn.

  Normally, she’d have been up and doing something; a healer’s life did not merely involve a few visits each day. Every season brought with it tasks to do with collecting and processing the herbs and other plants required to maintain the stocks of lotions and potions used to heal.

  She and Lyran had expended much effort trying to grow the essentials, like comfrey, betony and chamomile, in their tiny garden. But the sage flourished, choking the others. Thankfully, Ranly allowed his son to maintain the well-established herb garden at his large house in the grander part of the village.

  Every season brought its own harvest, and each one required treatment to preserve the stocks. So it had been many years since she had enjoyed such self-indulgence. One of her most common pieces of advice to new mothers involved ensuring they had enough food, drink, but more than anything, rest, to maintain a sufficient flow of milk to satisfy a suckling babe. But most of them had to maintain a household, cooking and cleaning for the rest of the family, so rest was a scarce commodity.

  Stretching, she wriggled her shoulders and toes, then sank back into the comfort of her bed for five more minutes before facing the day.

  The next thing she knew was a timid knock on the door.

  “Senna? May we come in?”

  “Of course. I was about to get up anyway.”

  “Before you do, this little lady has made it known she is so hungry that if she does not get fed in the next minute the world will end.”

  Chuckling, Senna unlaced her chemise and beckoned for Paulina to bring the mewling babe. As the little one started guzzling, Senna smiled at her miracle worker. “Thank you once again for allowing me the extra sleep, that’s the third time this week.”

  The girl returned the smile. “I know from watching my aunt how demanding a babe can be in the first moon. I believe it takes them that long to learn food is plentiful, and that they have no need to live in fear of it not being available.”

  Senna nodded. “What an astute observation. They do seem prone to panicking until that message gets through.”

  “Which infusion would you like today? Let me guess. Chamomile, lemon balm and ginger?”

  “You know me too well. That would be lovely, thank you.”

  Contentment filled Senna’s spirit as she reflected how her own birthing and first few days of motherhood had been so much easier. All thanks to having witnessed so many doze
ns over the years she’d been learning her craft, initially with Farfelie, then with Lyran. With their accumulated knowledge of breathing techniques and the entire process, she had birthed Lyrelie in the shortest time imaginable.

  She believed her daughter had managed the entire thing, colluding with Lyran to arrange each detail. Senna had scant recollection of the event itself, being in a state of pleasant detachment, no doubt the effect of the wine.

  After delivering the shortest best man speech known to man, her husband had bade everyone drink to the health, wealth and happiness of Cora and Alfun, instructing her to empty her goblet in one gulp.

  He’d then discretely led her out of the hall, reassuring any who asked she merely needed a breath of fresh air. His birthing bag lay hidden in a bush just outside the hall, along with a couple of sheepskins and a large skin of water. The next thing she remembered was slowly walking round the outer circle of the henge. At each birthing pain, he stopped and hugged her, massaging her back as she clung onto him and breathed out her pain as she’d instructed so many women to do. As the pains quickened until they were almost continuous, he led her to where the Mary line crossed the henge on its way north-east. The gentle earth energy supported her as they headed toward the moon circle. At the centre, she stood among the cove stones, representing male and female energy, and felt a trickle of wetness as the seal on the birthing sac broke. She gave thanks for his thoroughness, bringing along one of her old smocks so her fancy clothes would not be ruined.

  Lyran squeezed her hand. “How fortuitous she should begin her escape at the very point where she began her life.”

  Senna took a moment to remember, blushing as she remembered last August, when their late-night stroll led them to this very place. Passion had overtaken them, and they had coupled in this very spot under the full corn moon. “She really is the most determined young lady. I believe she has strong ideas about the manner of her entrance.”

  “Conceived in the moon, birthed in the sun.” His statement confirmed he had the same communication from their babe. He took her hand and they walked between the Michael and Mary lines toward the sun circle.

  Although the two centres were a mere hundred paces away, every step was slowed by her body’s labours, which were intensified by the heat of the sun, still high in the sky. He suggested she moved onto the Mary line itself, but instead of the normally gentle energy, it crackled with the same force as the Michael line, forcing them back betwixt the two.

  As they reached the solar-stone, Senna had the irresistible urge to push. She gripped her husband’s arm. “This is it. She’s ready.”

  “Right. How do you want to do it, lying or standing?”

  “The solar stone will support me.” She placed both hands on the tall stone, giving thanks to all the gods of nature and the earth for helping her to bring this babe into the world. He had thought of everything, spreading a large skin nearby on which he arranged the items he would need to make her and the little one comfortable.

  His examination confirmed the head was peeking through, and he poured water into a bowl, soaking the linens he would need for cleaning the babe.

  “Aaarrrggghhh!” Senna’s groan expelled the pain as she pushed down, and Lyran murmured words of encouragement as he rubbed her back with one hand while positioning the smaller sheepskin between her legs. Since learning the benefits of Bernadine’s upright birthing, he added this to his birthing bag, admitting a concern about dropping a slippery babe. So far, he never had.

  Lyrelie’s slurping noise brought Senna back to the present as she realised the hungry girl had emptied the breast, so she pressed the tip of her smallest finger into her daughter’s mouth to break the strong suction. Rudely deprived of her sustenance mid-meal, the infant howled her displeasure.

  “Shhh, little one. There is more where that came from, but first we need to give your little tummy a chance to expel any air which might cause a pain later.” Lifting her daughter into the familiar position on her shoulder, she tenderly stroked the babe’s back, rewarded instantly with a loud belch.

  “There’s my girl.” Senna snuggled close, breathing in the seductive new-born scent all her patients spoke of. Everything about her little one brought feelings of intense joy; Senna found herself holding her breath to hear the small, snuffling sounds as her daughter slept, and stroking every inch of downy skin, especially while changing her linens or after her daily wash.

  With a sigh, she transferred to the other breast, gazing in wonderment as Lyrelie stared back as though trying to store an image of her mother’s face for safekeeping. Senna knew Lyran was equally besotted; he would insist on kissing her tiny cheek on his return, no matter whether she slept or not. At first, Senna had resisted this practice, as he always brought with him a cloud of smoke from the purifying incense he surrounded himself in for five full minutes before entering the house. But somehow, the little one let her know she need not fear, due to the strong protection from the manner of her birthing.

  Apart from Lyran, she never spoke of the incredible link between her and Lyrelie, for fear of appearing mentally unsound. On several occasions, however, she observed Paulina stop what she was doing in the house and approach the cradle to replace a blanket or pick up the babe and sniff.

  “How did you know to change that? I examined it myself mere minutes ago.”

  Paulina shrugged. “She doesn’t like lying in a damp mess.”

  Senna narrowed her eyes as she prepared the chest Lyran had bought to store his daughter’s chattels. Placing a sheepskin on the lid, she held out her arms for the little one.

  “If you wouldn’t mind, may I be permitted to do it?”

  Senna kept the small frown off her face, but the girl read the question anyway.

  “I know it is an unusual request, but I have only changed wet linens, although I’ve watched you many times. I would like to try it for myself.”

  “Of course.” Senna smiled, grateful for the respite, knowing she would have more than enough opportunity to repeat the unpleasant activity. “I have learnt that the most important thing is to have everything you might need ready before you start. Also, that you need to put the dish of water out of reach as they will kick their legs quite furiously in the excitement of freedom.”

  “Good advice. I have paid attention each time you do it, so I hope I will get it right. Please watch closely and let me know when I do something wrong.”

  “I think you mean if. Whatever happens, stay calm, and never leave the babe alone. If you need to step away for whatever reason, make sure you take her with you. I always have a spare linen in case of such encumbrance.”

  “Of course.” She checked the items on the chest. “I don’t see the pot of salve.”

  “Well seen. I have it on the dresser as I thought it made sense to have another pot upstairs for a night-time change. I want to have two sets of everything so I do not have to remember to carry them upstairs each night, or bring them down in the morning.”

  After that, everything went smoothly, and Senna watched with pride as Paulina handled her daughter with calm competence. The girl was thrilled, asking if there were other tasks she might do for Lyralie.

  “Actually, it would be a huge help if you would mind her while I make up some salves, we are running low on stocks for our two most requested ones. And we shall need some more of Lyran’s tonic, but hopefully not for a while. He will be back soon and able to make them.”

  Paulina’s face saddened. “I suppose after he comes back you won’t be needing me anymore.”

  “I most certainly shall. I have no idea how I would have coped without you these past few days, and I cannot imagine it will change much when he gets back.” Senna attempted to raise a smile. “What am I saying? ’Twill be worse when he comes back; there will be so much more noise and mess. More than twice as much cooking and cleaning required and then there’s all the remedies and potions we need to tend to Avebury’s ill and injured. And the extra work from dealing with the animals.
In fact, we may well need two of you.”

  “Really? Because Dagda …”

  “Oh, dear. I didn’t mean to get your hopes up so much. I was merely exaggerating. But there will be a place for you as long as you want one. You have more than proven your worth, if only for the fact of sharing the room with Lyrelie after her mid-night feed. She would not settle without the sound of someone in the room with her, so it is a perfect solution all round.” Senna knew this was at the forefront of Paulina’s mind, thinking she would lose her room if she were no longer required to work for them.

  However, she had overstated the case in order not to upset the girl. In time, as Alfun became more confident with the animals, Lyran would have less to do. He often treated those who could not afford it for very little recompense, saying he would be rewarded in other ways. Because of his generosity, sometimes they barely had enough to feed and clothe the two – sorry, three – of them, let alone a fourth. But that was a concern for the future. Since Tyrel left, Lyran’s earnings from the animal healing meant they managed to put some money away for leaner times. And the farmers were so grateful and generous, they rarely had to buy food.

  Senna did not feel comfortable employing someone without paying a wage, but at least the girl had hot meals and a warm bed without having to pay. She sent up a prayer to the powers that be to provide a solution to their predicaments, including Dagda. But especially Paulina, who she thought of as a younger sister. At least Cora and Alfun appeared to have everything in place for them both to earn good money doing things they loved.

  As she chopped the herbs and mixed the oils required for their most popular salve, her mind pondered the idea of making larger quantities of their various remedies and selling them to apothecaries, or even at the sort of markets where her parents traded. She did not feel comfortable with the idea of bartering with customers, and she knew from her parents’ experiences that plenty of unscrupulous merchants would take advantage of novices in the business world. It didn’t seem a prospect to suit either her or Lyran but, as ever, having planted the seed of an idea, she allowed it to germinate, moving her thoughts on to other things.