by Jacky Gray
“One of his associates in London got hold of the itinerary of his ship, so I travelled to every port until I found someone who remembered seeing him. I knew the names of merchants he dealt with in Moorish countries.”
“Surely a woman alone would have suffered at the hands of their strict rules?”
“Of course. Which is why I travelled as a boy. I travelled with a band of minstrels and the leader happily exploited my singing voice as we performed for Sultans and Kings.” She saw little point in describing the few occasions she had to use her charms to get her out of awkward or dangerous situations.
“And you found him.” His voice rang with awe.
“Eventually. In a Spanish debtor’s prison. But it was too late. By the time I managed to convince the many officials of his identity and circumstances, he had become very ill. He died three days after I managed to liberate him.”
The day after they chopped down the last sapling, the rains began, so the men set about stripping the bark because Bryce said this invited moisture to collect, leading to rot.
“And it’s a home for many insects which would damage the wood by eating through it.” Jarl showed them a quick way of removing it, using a cow’s shoulder blade, rounded so it would not cut into the sapwood.
Eanje and Senna rubbed a thin layer of grease to shield the wood from everything but the worst of the elements. As the rain worsened, they tackled the many tasks involved in preparation for the house. Tasker had found a source of chalk at a nearby hill, and brought back many cartloads which needed pounding to dust.
Used to years of working in inclement weather, he happily worked outside under a crude shelter the men had erected, nestling in a corner between two exterior walls of the church. The constant hammering noise echoed around the church, but nothing like as loud as it would have if he’d worked inside.
Eanje delighted at his sacrifice; perceiving the opposite of the coarse man who had grabbed her in the inn all those years ago. She worried about him breathing in the noxious dust, but Lyran had fashioned a linen mask to reduce the effects.
Every couple of hours, she took out a beaker of fresh water and a small morsel of food to keep up his energy. Her prime motive was to make him take off the mask and shake it out, so it did not become clogged. She dallied with him while he ate and drank, ensuring he had a decent break before resuming work. Although a man of few words, he gradually unbent, sharing an observation on the day, or even a jest.
Lyran did not seem best pleased. On the third trip, he made a wry comment about her tender care. Hanging up her cloak, she explained her motive, and he apologised for his lack of trust.
She could not let it lie. “Really? You suspect I have lustful thoughts of another man right under your nose? How can you think so little of me?”
He shook his head, words tumbling over themselves in denial. “No, never. I’m sorry. I just … It’s just that … With everything you’ve been telling – or not telling – me about your life …”
“You thought me a strumpet who would willingly offer herself to any man. Well, thank you, Lyran.” She spun around and darted out of the building.
As though sharing her anger, the heavens opened with a loud crack and she ran blindly, uncaring of the direction or the dangers of the slippery, sodden ground. Instinct pointed her feet toward the river and, as she drew level with the willow tree, her lungs fairly burst with the need for air. She sought its sanctuary, hugging the trunk for succour as she wept another torrent of tears.
Self-pity had no part in her nature, but this felt like some kind of cruel joke – the man who offered salvation from a lifetime of ills could not see past her deeds enough to forgive her for them. She could not blame him; his privileged upbringing meant he had little notion of the depravities going on in other parts of the country, let alone the world. But she hoped he might have the generosity of spirit to understand what type of person she really was.
As she regained her composure, she opened her eyes, only to have her vision obscured by a darkness creeping in from the edges. Her head floated somewhere above the tree and her legs refused to support her. As she sank to the ground, the last thing she heard was Lyran calling her name.
4 – Full Moon
Full moon: a time of completion and abundance, the Mother aspect lends her strength and power. For spells requiring extra “oomph.” Try calling on Demeter.
Senna
Senna sensed something amiss between Lyran and Eanje, being aware of their energies in the same way her bond with Jarl meant she could almost read his thoughts. The link to Lyran made sense after being his partner for almost two decades, but Eanje? For whatever reason, she had become part of Senna’s family.
Senna had seen their connexion long before either of them acknowledged it, but kept it quiet in her reluctance to interfere. From the little Lyran let slip, Gaia had plans for all four of them. Who was she to imagine she could challenge a goddess? Best to let nature take its course.
In many ways, it benefited them all. She had seen the tension building between the two cousins since they moved to this new world. Even worse, she had felt the discord between herself and Jarl, putting it down to his unease with the situation. Lyran and Eanje getting together romantically could only benefit all four of them, none more so than Eanje, who deserved the love of a good man.
So her delight at the two of them pairing up had been genuine, and things had settled down for a couple of days. Until the incident with Tasker caused complications.
In all the years she had been with Lyran, she’d only seen him anywhere near jealous on the day of their handfasting. Maybe Eanje had given him cause for such behaviour, but she doubted it. According to several sources, including Lyran’s father, Eanje’s flirtatious behaviour had all been an act designed to ensnare Domenyk.
Having had little to do with Tasker before he died, she assumed his shyness around Eanje merely a result of his awe of her beauty. She spotted Eanje going out of her way to be kind to the man.
He responded similarly, but with no more courtesy than he showed herself – always there to hold the door open or offering to carry things. When he spoke of crushing the chalk for the floor, she had been concerned about the noise and dust, and pleased with his solution.
Like Eanje, she felt sorry for him, working outside in the cold and damp, and couldn’t understand what had upset Lyran. Eanje merely showed the same consideration she would to any of them. Caring figured strongly in the younger woman’s nature.
Senna didn’t hear what passed between them, as her and Lyran’s angry exchange took place at the other end of the room, both using low tones. At the instant Eanje ran out of the door, Bryce dropped the sapling he carried and the thing landed with a crash.
The accompanying curse had Lyran halting to check for injury. “Are you all right? Did it land on your foot?”
“Nae, man. I’m fine.”
Lyran dashed out, and Senna hurried over to Bryce, suggesting he should think about taking a short break.
“I’m fine, woman. It didnae touch me.”
“I know, but you have been working for hours without stopping. Your muscles get tired and it can make you clumsy. Next time it might be your toe, or Jarl’s.”
“No point arguing, man. Why would you ever refuse one of my wife’s oatencakes? You’d have to be mad.”
They were all drinking a warm berry infusion when Lyran returned, soaked to the skin and deathly pale. “Eanje’s gone. I can’t find her anywhere. It’ll soon be dark. Help me find her. Please.”
The three men leapt to their feet as Lyran took off his tunic and wrung it out. “The heavens are emptying, she could be anywhere.”
Jarl took command. “Which direction did she take?”
“I have no idea. By the time I got outside, she had disappeared.”
“She did not pass me or I’d have seen her. I doubt if she went south or east.” Tasker pointed at her cloak. “Why would she go out without it in this weather?”
> “I – We had an argument.” Lyran’s eyes pleaded forgiveness.
“Think, man. Is there anywhere she might go?” As he questioned his cousin, Jarl stuffed the cloak in a hide bag and slung it across his chest.
“The only place I can think of is the river. By the willow trees. But I looked there first.”
“Bryce, you’re with me. You two check the woods to the north.” His tone demanded compliance. “Senna, you stay here, in case she comes back.”
“I’ll warm some broth. And a change of clothes for all of you.”
Jarl squeezed Lyran’s shoulder. “Don’t worry, we’ll find her. She can’t have gone far.”
The room fizzed with the anxious energy the four men had left behind and, while it dispersed, Senna kept busy. After hanging the pot over the fire and filling a second with berry cordial, she gathered up every spare article of clothing she could find, arranging them as close to the fire as she dare.
Breathing out, she stilled her mind, trying to connect with Eanje’s energy. It had been a while since she had attempted anything so ambitious. The past year had been fraught with so much tension and danger, her mind rarely found the serenity required to exercise her gift.
Pictures formed in her mind and tiny bumps swarmed over her skin as though she had been soaked in the downpour. Other than the proximity to water, and the smell of damp earth, it could be anywhere. A pungent whiff of willow leaves gave her a clue. Lyran’s instinct had been correct. But how could he have missed her?
The weak connection suggested the girl had lost consciousness, and Senna wasted no time. Although Jarl had ordered her to remain in the church, she saw no harm in heading toward the river. If she hadn’t met them before she reached the riverbank, she would turn back, but she felt confident they would hear her call before then. She peeked out of the door – the storm had passed over, leaving everything glistening in the setting October sun.
Good. She glanced at the hooks, but Tasker had taken her cloak, just in case he and Lyran should find Eanje first. She probably should use one of the hides, but it was only a five minute walk. What could possibly happen to her in such a short distance?
Making her way over the soggy ground, she wished for her stout walking boots. The ones she wore were too soft, but she only had one pair. Something else to add to the ever-growing list of things they would have to make. The lack of concentration saw her stepping out a little too far, so when her foot slipped, she struggled to stay upright.
The stress of trying not to fall caused all manner of tensions, and a sharp pain in her midriff reminded her why a fall would not be good, particularly for the babe growing inside her. Somehow, she regained balance, her first instinct to cradle the tiny mound of her belly protectively.
“I’m so sorry, my darling,” she whispered. As though in reply, she was rewarded with the first kick. Her heart filled with joy and she sent up a prayer of thanks for those watching over her. “Bless you, my love. I’ve been so busy with everything, I haven’t had time to introduce myself properly.”
Senna had no idea when this babe was conceived, but her last moon flux had been in the old world, several moons ago. If her memory served her well, at four moons, she had determined her first babe, Lyrelie, was a girl.
A roar brought her attention back to the present, and she saw Jarl carrying a cloak-wrapped bundle. Good. They’d found her. She should get back to ensure things were ready for Eanje.
Jarl’s fury chased her back to the church like an angry bull and, as she stumbled on the slippery ground, she heard him curse.
A moment later, Bryce appeared, holding her arm, “by order of our lord and master.” With his support, she covered the distance much more quickly. At the church, she scurried across to the fire, dealing with the steaming broth.
She moved the two sheepskins closer to the fire just as Jarl arrived. “Bring her here and get out of your wet clothes. That goes for you, too, Bryce. The dry clothes are over there.”
“Nae, lass. First I’ll find Lyran and Tasker. Let them know the good news.”
“Good idea.” Senna worked quickly as she spoke, removing sodden layers which she discarded in a pile. Modesty had no place as Eanje’s lips took on a bluish tinge, and her teeth chattered. “Jarl. She needs our body heat. No, remove the chemise, she will warm up more quickly skin to skin. Lie down beside her.”
As he followed her instructions, she piled the hides and remaining skins over them, then removed everything but her chemise and climbed in the other side.
“How come you get to keep your chemise on?”
“Because it is already warm. The heat from your body would have to warm yours first before it got to her.”
“I have heard the like. Will it help if I rub her arms?”
“I believe so. As long as you do not let in cold air from outside the covers.” Senna could not decide whether to face Eanje, or not. The way their bodies curved meant she could get much closer facing away, so she turned. She snuggled down so the three of them lay on their sides like three spoons in a basket.
“Why were you outside?” The anger in his voice defied his obvious attempt to curb it. “I asked you to stay here.”
Told, more like. She didn’t voice the rebellious thought; now was not the time. “I had a vision of the willow tree. I wanted to make sure you had not missed her.”
“She lay on the ground and her clothes blended well with the undergrowth. I nearly missed her myself.” He paused, and she felt the effort he took to calm his voice. “You do realise the danger you put yourself in? You could have slipped and fallen on the slick ground. And it’s not just yourself you have to think about. An impact with the ground could have caused untold damage.”
“Thankfully, I was fine. I did slip, but something …”
“I knew it. I had a huge shiver a few moments before I spotted you.” He would have ranted further but Eanje shuddered.
Senna tried again to tell him about the babe kicking, but Lyran burst into the room, calling Eanje’s name. “Where is she? What’s going on? Oh. I understand, she needs to be warmed up. Well, you can move away, Jarl. I’ll take over.”
“Not unless you want to set her back.” Senna tried to keep her voice neutral so as not to startle Eanje. “You are soaking wet and doubtless icy cold, whereas Jarl is warming her like a fire. Get yourself dry and warm, first.”
“Yes ma’am. How is she?” He scattered his layers on the floor in his haste and he had no shame about stripping off completely.
As she delivered the report on the girl’s lack of progress, Senna could not tear her eyes away from the sight of her former husband’s body. She knew every contour and, although not as muscular as Jarl’s, it looked dear and familiar. Attributing the heat coursing through her body to lying under several covers, she felt a little cheated when the cloak Tasker carried obscured Lyran’s body.
“Should I add this on top of the rest?”
She nodded. “Good idea.”
Tasker threw over them and then picked up the discarded items of clothing, drying them by the fire while Bryce handed out beakers of spiced berry cordial.
Lyran insisted he was warm enough to take Jarl’s place, but Senna suggested he replace her so she could sort out the food. Eanje woke up shortly after the exchange and managed some cordial and a few mouthfuls of broth which brought a little colour to her face.
They all retired early, sleeping close to the fire, which they kept going all night. The next morning, Eanje suffered the consequences of her escapade and, although she did not get the fever both healers feared, she could not keep any food down. This lasted for several days, and she existed purely on water and weak gruel.
Senna tried to give her the best care but, like most men and all healers, the girl refused to give into illness, perceiving it as weakness. Even Jarl and Lyran’s nagging had no effect on her as she adopted a mutinous glare, scolding them for treating her like a helpless child.
Only Bryce’s cool assessment shamed
her into submission. “Any aspersions on your maturity are purely imagined. Nobody doubts you as anything but an extremely capable adult.” As she regarded him, obviously mollified by this assessment, he gainsaid it. “Normally.”
She glared at him.
“But refusing tae follow the advice of two such talented healers is tantamount tae arrogance at best, and stupidity at worst. Neither attribute I would associate with you.”
Senna strove to hide her surprise at the quiet Scot’s clever use of logic. She swapped delighted glances with Jarl and Lyran as the man continued.
“It is your body tae treat how you see fit, but I know that, if I hadnae eaten for three days, the only way of regaining health would be rest and nourishing food. And I wouldnae be so selfish as to cause grief tae ma crew.”
“Selfish? How is it being selfish? I only want to do my part to help. We have so much to do.”
“And as soon as you are fit and well, you can join in. Imagine how much more time would be wasted by the five of us worrying about you. Not to mention how much weaker you would be. And if you caused an accident …”
“All right. I understand. I’m not dull.” She scowled. “Go, all of you. I promise to be good and do as I’m told.”
Her grumpy face and deliberately childish tone brought smiles to the faces of all four men as they each lined up to hug her. Senna did not like the envious twist in her gut, but she, too, was powerless to resist the girlish charm as Eanje held out her arms for a hug.
“Forgive me, Senna. I did not mean to treat you so ill. Of course you know better. I promise I will always take your advice in future.”
The most noticeable outcome from the incident was the way it bound Lyran to Eanje. Their connexion, which had been tentative and tenuous, became riotous and rock-solid. Senna wasn’t sure about this irreverent, light-hearted side to her former husband, and her deep-rooted critic suggested maybe she had turned him into the earnest, responsible soul who had lived with her for so many years.