Nature's Tribe

by Jacky Gray

  “You mean you were not charmed by his courtly manners?”

  “Are you jesting with me? He was nothing but a rogue.”

  “Thank goodness. I did not relish the thought of having to fight him for you. Even though I knew I could best him. Easily. Without trying too hard.”

  “I knew it. You fought him.” She sat up. “After everything I’ve said.”

  “I had no choice. Either time.”

  “Twice?” She pulled away, putting as much space between them as the cart would allow.

  He made no move to close the gap. “The first time was not so much a fight as an ambush. It was all part of Domenyk’s plan to drive us apart. And from what she said, he used it to assure Eanje’s cooperation after she had expressed unwillingness to come between us.”

  “Poor girl. I cannot believe how much she went through to help people who spurned her.”

  “I don’t think you or Senna ever did that. And she said Jarl was the kindest man she had ever met.”

  “I know. I wish she would stay here, but after everything that happened, it will be a long time before people will look at her without speculating exactly what part she played with Domenyk.”

  “Best not to think about it. She did what she had to do.”

  “She will be much better off with Shayla and Quinn. They will find gainful employment for her many talents.”

  “Bless you, my love. After everything she was forced to do to undermine you and make your life unbearable, you still have such compassionate feelings toward her.” He leaned closer to kiss her cheek, which led to more kisses and more passion.

  When they finally broke free, she giggled. “We must be shining like a beacon. Anyone with your gift would see us for miles.”

  Fatigue overtook her as the events of the past few days caught up. From the moment Cal had arrived at Rielle’s shop, urging her to pack a bag quickly so they could make it home before supper, she’d barely had time to breathe. Between them, Cal and Senna had devised a schedule of activities which ensured she did not have a minute to spend worrying about what people in the village might think.

  Cal had surprised her after the meal at her grandfather’s, suggesting they watched the sun setting over the henge, so they left early and walked around the outer henge, repeating the path they’d taken on that dreadful Sunday. This time, he stopped at the moon-stone, and bent down in front of her, asking formally for her hand in marriage.

  She frowned. “But you already asked me this. If you remember, we were going to be betrothed at Imbolc.”

  “I know. Will you leap the bonfire with me at Stonehenge tomorrow to announce it to the world?”

  “Of course. You know I will.”

  “And will you wed me here at Lughnasadh?”

  “Really? So soon? You do not wish to wait for the year and a day?”

  “Lyrelie. My love. I would have wed you at Imbolc if I could have. I cannot think of one good reason why we should wait any longer.”

  “Well in that case, yes, Cal. I will wed you here at Lughnasadh.”

  After sealing it with a kiss, they walked back to the solar-stone as the sun turned red, blazing streaks across the sky before sinking. A final shimmer, then it was gone

  When they broke the news to their friends, Freya frowned. “This is incredible. Only last night, Verat suggested Lughnasadh for our handfasting – did you boys work this out together?”

  Even as Cal denied it, Senna and Cora held hands, dancing around the room like young girls as the men swapped much clapping of backs.

  Senna took charge. “A double wedding will be so much easier to manage, and with all of us working hard we should be able to arrange everything easily in the next five weeks. After all, you three did it for Jarl and I at Yule in that many days.”

  “And what a success that was.” Jarl beamed. “Let us know what we can do and it shall be done.”

  Alfun charged their goblets and proposed a toast to the two couples.

  News of Domenyk’s departure buzzed around the village, and everywhere Lyrelie walked, she was greeted by people keen to reassure they never believed the horrible rumours about her concerning witchcraft and darker things. In the mornings and eve’s the village thronged with visitors from near and far who’d come to earn a decent wage for the three moons of harvest, working long days in the fields.

  True to his word, Farmon employed a gang of lads to clear and repair the row of harvest cottages, putting Jarl in charge. To expedite the job, he offered extra coin, attracting Zane and his gang, and Dennon lent a hand with the supervision. Between the two ex-soldiers, they kept the unruly youths in check, and the first two houses were habitable after a mere three days.

  Cal’s workload doubled, and Lyrelie took on the delivery of the tithe packages to the alms-houses. As she walked down Harvest Row, she was greeted with a host of whistles and uncomplimentary remarks.

  Jarl appeared from nowhere, boxing the heads of the two main culprits.

  “Apologise immediately or lose your job.”

  “We was only having a bit of fun. We didn’t mean no harm.”

  “I don’t see the lady smiling.” Grabbing a handful of hair, he forced Dain to his knees. “What do you say?”

  “I’m sorry, Lyrelie. Please forgive me.”

  The other lad, with the strange name, fell to his knees, clasping his hands. “Me too.”

  “You too what? That’s no …”

  “A thousand apologies, dear lady. We are your humble servants.” He bent forward, prostrating himself.

  “Get up you snivelling whelk. You are an embarrassment.”

  She jumped at the harsh tone as Zane appeared from the cottage behind her, striding over to the lad, hooking his booted toes under his chest as he flipped the unfortunate onto his back. He drew back his leg to deliver a kick to the cringing bundle who she finally remembered styled himself Womble.

  “Stop. He doesn’t deserve to be beaten.”

  Womble scurried away from the boot in a shambling crouch while Zane glared at her with an expression she could not fathom.

  He gave a half bow, his tone similarly undecipherable. “As milady wishes. Come on, you pond scum. Back to work.” He dragged Dain to his feet, shoving him roughly toward the cottages, while Womble scampered after them, turning back as he reached the wall. Joining his hands as though in prayer, he bowed over them, mouthing the words, “Thank you,” then blew her a cheeky little kiss before disappearing through the door.

  Jarl turned to her, shaking his head, trying to disguise the amusement with an exasperated tone. “I do apologise for their behaviour.”

  “You are not responsible for that, nor their attitude. Unless you put them up to it, you have nothing to apologise for.”

  He laughed out loud, sweeping her into his arms. “There could never be any doubt as to the identity of your mother. You sound more like her every day and, from a distance, people might mistake you for her – you have her looks and every bit of her attitude.”

  She pulled away, keeping her face neutral.

  “Be assured, that is the biggest compliment I could ever pay anyone. I intended to recommend you do not go out without an escort, but you have convinced me you are more than capable of standing up for yourself.”

  Lyrelie continued to present pure implacability.

  “I suspect if I had not interfered, you would have dealt them a lesson in manners they would not forget.”

  Finally, she cracked. “Possibly at some time in the future I may get there, but right now I am still a little out of sorts with everything which has happened.”

  All humour vanished as he hugged her again. “Poor love. I will accompany you till your duty is complete.”

  “That makes no sense. These people have much more essential things concerning them, and their gratitude for the parcels is humbling. It also gives me an opportunity to check their health, especially the elderly and the wee ones.”

  Her passion was such he held up his hands. “A
ll right. I submit. But you must let me know when you are done and I will escort you home. Before you protest, I have a need to return, but it can wait till you are done.”

  Knowing the futility of arguing with that particular set of his jaw, she nodded her agreement.

  Senna seemed content to abandon her duties, encouraging Lyrelie and Marena to take over the rounds while she focussed on the wedding arrangements. Initially, she claimed it was due to her own reluctance to endure another enquiry after her health and well-being, when all people really wanted was gossip about Domenyk. But as the weeks wore one, Lyrelie suspected some other motive drove her mother’s uncharacteristic behaviour.

  Throwing themselves into the preparations for the double handfasting, Senna and Cora journeyed over to Marlborough several times. More than once, Jarl drove them there, returning immediately to continue his labours on the harvest houses while the women stayed overnight with Rielle. On one occasion, Jarl spent the night, too, and her mother implored her to stay at Cal’s house.

  Chalette and Farmon had declared their wedding gift would be one of the cottages on their land, and the woman spent many a happy hour helping Lyrelie spruce it up with new furnishings, providing good cloth to renew all the curtains and cushions.

  When they were all home, Senna and Jarl both seemed determined to enjoy every moment, inviting many of their friends over for dinner. Each night became a celebration as they reminisced over their many adventures with each clan. In particular, Paulina was included as though she were part of the immediate family, and Senna oft referred to her as the sister Lyrelie never had.

  Even Freya, normally oblivious to much apart from her own plans with Verat, noticed something peculiar going on. “I’ve never seen mother like this. Mostly she’s full of excitement at the plans and giddy with joy at all the time she’s spending with Senna.”

  “I know. The two of them are reliving childhood, vibrating with laughter and jests.”

  “But occasionally I will catch a glimpse of intense sorrow when she looks at Senna or Jarl. And once, I heard her sobbing in her room. When she came out, her eyes were puffy, but she claimed to have been sneezing from all the wheat dust in the air from the harvest.”

  Lyrelie hugged her friend, assuring her it was probably just the sheer emotion of the two weddings. But in the back of her mind, she admitted to noticing a forced gaiety about both Senna and Jarl’s manner. And the total absence of her father’s voice in her head.

  ~*~

  Lareeta waved goodbye to Lyrelie, thinking how adept the girl had become in the past few weeks. At this early stage there was little to be done apart from asking an abundance of questions about her eating and sleeping habits and the briefest of examinations of her growing belly. Marena accompanied her, but she did not have the knowledge the younger girl had accumulated from so many years living with two healers.

  But the biggest change was in Lyrelie’s confidence – without her mother to defer to, she had somehow grown in stature. Lareeta found it hard to believe the snippets of gossip she had overheard in the queue at the bakery – her only regular contact with people since leaving the workroom. She caught the end of something quite uncomplimentary from the village’s worst rumourmonger. On spotting Lareeta, another woman nudged her and swapped the subject to Eanje’s disappearance. As they speculated whether the girl had run to meet Domenyk, Lareeta decided she would make do without a fresh loaf that day. She could not bear to stand a moment longer amid such nastiness.

  Closing the door, she remembered Lyrelie’s reaction when she had enquired how Paulina’s babe was doing. The girl had picked up Christian, who seemed determined to cry until she did just that, and Lareeta suspected this was to give her thinking time.

  “Why don’t you ask her yourself? I’m sure she would love the chance to swap stories about these middle months. Mother always believed it was good for expectant mothers to share their experiences.”

  Lareeta had glanced at Marena, cringing inside. “I know. She tried to get me to talk to you, but I was so worried about losing him …”

  “Don’t fret. I was exactly the same with my first, Derran. By the time I got to the third it was much easier. Are you past the sick feelings, yet?”

  “Mostly. Although there are certain foods which seemed determined to revisit.”

  Marena smiled. “Roast pork. Although I had no problem with boiled bacon.”

  “Or cured. I could eat that every day and still want more.”

  Lyrelie nodded wisely. “A little salty food is good now, but be careful toward the end. Mama told me about …”

  “The woman whose knees and ankles swelled up so much she could not walk.” Marena and Lareeta recited the story in unison, sharing a smile.

  Lyrelie grinned. “I see she teaches you well.”

  “None better.” Lareeta reached out to take her son, who had started to fuss. “You are right, it really helps to share things, I will call round to Paulina later.”

  But when it came to leaving the house, she had second thoughts. Her main concern was the thought Bryce might try to speak through her if she went round. After everything that had gone on with her father she was concerned about his reaction if he found out she had been communing with dead people.

  Something had not rung true about their recent Sunday lunch together; although he had seemed welcoming toward Lyrelie, she noticed his acute observation of the girl, and sensed a dark purpose behind some of his questions.

  Although fully aware of her mother’s capacity to ignore the subtleties of things going on around her, Lareeta had some sympathy with that point of view. Many of her father’s associates condemned the old ways as heretical and blasphemous. She couldn’t reconcile their zealous loathing with the actions of the people she’d grown to love.

  But her biggest fear was that, if she continued to develop her gift, the knowledge of it could have harmful consequences for Garvenal – his position within the deeply religious community could be harmed beyond repair.

  She’d no sooner settled Christian down after his feed than a gentle tap at the door had her flying across the room to answer it before he awoke.

  “I’m sorry to bother you – is this a bad time?”

  Feeling dreadful for her neglect, Lareeta shook her head, keeping her voice low as she beckoned Paulina in. “Not at all. He’s just gone to sleep, so this is perfect. I’m so sorry, I was on my way to visit when hunger took over.”

  “Are you sure? I can leave it until another day.”

  “No. Now is perfect. I was only talking to Marena a short while ago about how useful it is to share experiences. Especially with your first when everything is new.”

  “You are right. There are so many strange things happening to my body, it can be very unsettling. I am never sure if I am imagining things or not.”

  Lareeta nodded. “I know. I cannot tell you how many times I would start worrying over a twinge here or a rash there. Taron’s stock advice was to wait until it caused real discomfort. Almost every time, it would disappear as soon as I stopped fretting about it.”

  “Senna suggested I note each time something happened, and if it got to three times, I should contact her.”

  “She suggested the exact same thing to me, but since Christian’s birth I am hopeless at remembering anything. Taron always helps with things like that. Oh.” She gasped, aware of how insensitive her statement sounded. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to …”

  Paulina took her hand. “You have nothing to apologise for. If not for you,” she shook her head, “I would never have connected with Bryce, and he would not be helping me through this as he would have done were he alive.”

  “You mean you can hear him? I have not been able to after those first few times.”

  “Because he has no need to talk to you now Lyran showed him how to connect to me. And Senna showed me how to strengthen the bond with meditation and by wearing his favourite jacket. I have been meaning to come and thank you for a while now, but th
ere is always so much to do, and I have so little energy.”

  Lareeta smiled. “I promise, you have less than nothing to apologise for. I know how much energy it takes to commune with spirit, and when you are carrying a babe …” She shrugged. “I am glad it has worked out for you; it must set your mind at peace to have Bryce there.”

  “It truly does. I am no longer alone. Senna treats me like a daughter, but his support is different.”

  “I understand. There is no substitute for a partner to talk to when everything seems hopeless or overwhelming.”

  “Exactly. You understand so well.”

  Paulina’s expression of gratitude shamed Lareeta into regretting her lapse. “I have been so remiss. We shall make it a firm promise. I shall visit you every Tuesday, and you must come to me every Thursday. And if you do not have somewhere to go for Sunday lunch, you must come to us.”

  “Thank you, that’s very kind. But between Senna, Cora and my sister, I am quite spoilt. I cannot remember the last time I had to prepare a meal.”

  ~*~

  Senna glanced up from the table to meet her husband’s gaze. The skin around his eyes crinkled.

  “You have never looked more beautiful than you do right now. Have I lately told you how much I love you?”

  “Not in the last five minutes, no. But say it again. I will never tire of it.”

  Unfolding his arms, he moved across the room with lazy grace, encircling her with his arms as he nuzzled her hair, breathing in deeply. “Senna, love of my life. I love you more than it is possible for any man to love a woman. You are my moon; I am your sun and together, we create a heaven full of stars.”

  Trapped by the flour covering her hands, she melted, submitting to his embrace. He kissed her with such tenderness, her eyes filled with tears. After releasing her, he reached down and kissed her damp eyes. “Oh, my love. We promised no more tears.”

  “Not even tears of joy? I don’t know what I have done to deserve the love of two wonderful men. I am grateful and humbled to have experienced such love twice in one lifetime.” She reached up and kissed his cheek. “I plan to give thanks every day for the rest of my life.”