Nature's Tribe

by Jacky Gray

  Lyran glared at him, and then around the room as though seeking support from everyone.

  Senna glanced at Eanje for permission before adopting a gentle tone. “It cannot hurt to try.”

  With great reluctance, Lyran handed over the screaming babe, his frown deepening as the boy instantly calmed.

  “Tha’s better. No need for all that fuss.” Tasker crooned as he handled the lad with unexpected ease. “This will settle that tummy of yourn.” He raised the device to the lad’s lips. Tryslan sucked greedily, the spout shape making it impossible to take too much liquid and choke.

  “Nice? You can have no more than three, but that should be enough for even a bruiser like you.” He nodded at Senna and she replenished the spoon.

  “Hold on a moment. You don’t even know what’s in it, and you are letting that … man feed it to my son.”

  Senna held out the bottle. “Take a sniff. ’Tis naught but Smallbeer, blended with a drop of milk and some herbs.” She gestured at Tasker to continue. “I smell chamomile and valerian, they will help him to sleep.”

  “Aye. Many of the women in my family had twins, and this recipe has been passed down for generations. I reasoned Eanje may be needing some when we found out about her twins.”

  He turned to her. “It’s best if you drink a little every day, but in an emergency, it will help your lad to settle.”

  “Thank you.” She gestured to the sleeping lad. “He won’t even need the third dose. What a clever device.”

  “Aye. I had all but forgotten about it.” He laid the babe back in his cradle. “My twin sisters both had one they used for their twin babes, but that were many a year past.”

  “Thank you, Tasker.” Lyran stuck out his hand. “I’m sorry for my rudeness, it was inexcusable.”

  Tasker shook it. “I would say understandable given the circumstances. If you are interested in the recipe, I will gladly share it.”

  “You are very kind. I can see such a potion would have many uses for all manner of ills.”

  “That it does. But for whatever reason, it was a strictly guarded family secret.” He shrugged. “I do not see as that matters anymore.”

  ~*~

  Rielle

  The arrival of Ranly and his lady friend brought a new life to the village. Until then, the focus had been only on doing what was necessary so everyone had enough to eat, somewhere to live and a few changes of clothes.

  Nadeena charmed everyone with her shy serenity and it did not take Rielle long to establish she had made the fine lace Ranly brought back each time he visited Oxford.

  Their excited chatter was interrupted by a squeal of delight as Eanje embraced her. “How is Roseena? I haven’t spoken to her for the longest time.”

  Ranly could not be prouder of the woman soon to be his wife, and one of his prime reasons for returning was to invite them all to Oxford for the handfasting. As he gave the invitation, many round the table exchanged worried glances. Being Ranly, he immediately thought the worst.

  “What is this? I ask you to join me on the happiest day of my life and you all avert your gazes!” For a moment, his legendary anger returned.

  Nadeena put her hand on his arm. “Do not be silly, my love. Your family and friends have shown me nothing but kindness. Look around you. Is it fair to ask them to transport four young babes all that way? You know how tired we were after riding for so many hours.”

  He refused to be mollified. “They could do it in two days and stop halfway.”

  She shook her head. “Maybe in the old world they could have, but you forget, there are no longer any inns along the way. No, we should have it here.” Glancing around, she added, “That is, if no one would mind?”

  “Mind? We would be delighted.” Lyran spoke for them all. “I cannot believe you would make such a sacrifice. What about all your family and friends? They would be most welcome, and we would soon find room for them.”

  Her lips tightened as her gaze dropped. “I only have Roseena, my daughter. Few of my friends made it through and I have no other family.”

  Ranly put an arm round her shoulders. “Be not sad, my love. You have a new family now. I’m sure as soon as they are able, they will visit, and our house will run with the sound of our grandchildren.” His hand curled round to reach her belly protectively.

  Rielle did not think anyone else noticed, but she could not imagine his desire for another child would materialise. The couple occupied Ranly’s old room in the house Rielle and Taysen shared with the two council leaders, falling asleep quickly after such a long day.

  The following morning, Ranly could not wait to find out the progress on various projects and Nadeena happily accepted the invitation to spend the morning in the women’s workshop. Although impressed by the breadth of different projects the women tackled, her main interest was in the ingenious dressmaking processes. She exclaimed in delight at the quality of fabrics made from various fibres from horsehair to nettles and marvelled at the idea of using pollen, bark and onion skins to dye the cloth.

  The three men and Bernadine spent a leisurely lunch comparing what was happening in the once-large city and their modest village. Dimia joined them, as she often did, and the three women reminisced about times past, comparing what was good and bad about their old lives.

  “Would you go back?” Nadeena’s question brought echoes of a recent discussion.

  This time, Dimia sounded a lot keener, asking about the state of things when they drove through.

  Nadeena shrugged. “I did not know the place terribly well, but I passed by two churches which both had a number of houses nearby.”

  “I think all three would be habitable, they would have attracted people from the surrounding villages.”

  “That is certainly what has happened in Oxford. Many of the university building were built from stone and have survived. We have not had to build so many new houses for everyone. I think the council will be interested in your workshop design for the many craftsmen who live there.”

  Ranly chose that moment to listen to their conversation. “They most certainly will. I imagine the council at Marlborough would be, too. They are close enough to the downs to make good use of the stones. Why don’t you take a ride over and suggest it to them?”

  Taysen glanced at her. “We could do that. I wouldn’t mind seeing if any of the old gang made it through.”

  Rielle nodded; she had been aware of his desire to return to bustle of the town, or at least seeing what had become of it. She turned to Dimia. “You must come. We could all be pleasantly surprised.”

  And so they planned to accompany Ranly and Nadeena as far as Marlborough the day after the Esbat.

  Rielle had been chosen to lead the full moon ceremony and she reminded everyone to give thanks for the blessings they had before making requests for the fertility, fortune or fortitude this moon brought.

  “These gifts will not be bestowed merely by asking. Your success in any endeavour will improve if you complete your tasks with joy in your heart and a song on your lips. Even the most mundane chores can be lightened by sharing with others and being grateful for your abilities and talents. And supping a beaker of ale when the day is done.” Her closing remark was met with a hearty cheer of appreciation.

  10 – Corn Moon – August

  Corn moon: Wisdom/knowledge, life force inside. Drama. Safety. Communication web. Immortality of nature.

  Nadeena

  As they waved goodbye to two women she could now count among her friends, Nadeena snuggled up to the man who had made life worth living for the past three years. Although she had known Ranly for a lot longer than that, this was when he had rescued her from the brink of ruin.

  “Are you comfortable, my dear? Hopefully, Rielle’s cushion will serve you better than the thin hide.”

  “It was good to finally meet the woman who helped to put food on my table for so many years. She said such lovely things about my lace, and she is keen to start making beautiful clothes again.�
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  “You make a good team. I suspect it won’t be long before people want nice things.”

  “That’s what Rielle said.” She sighed with content. “Such a wonderful soul. And her daughter; I can see why Lyran loves her so much.”

  “Loved. He’s with Eanje now, and Senna with Jarl.”

  She shot him a glance, but said nothing, changing the subject to talk about how she’d met Willow one morn as they shared the intent of scattering crumbs to feed the birds. “What a charming girl, so sweet and gentle; your granddaughter has such lovely friends. I am looking forward to spending more time with your family.”

  He squeezed her shoulder. “I’m glad you feel that way. I must confess, it took a while for me to get used to seeing my son’s wife with another man, but she could do no better than Jarl.”

  “He is your – nephew, have I got that right?”

  “Yes.” He grunted. “Lyran seemed convinced he would die young and made him promise to wed Senna.”

  Nadeena nodded, thinking through the conundrum. “At least you get to have Eanje as a daughter-by-marriage.”

  Ranly sighed. “Only if she weds him. Hopefully, our handfasting will spur them on.”

  She had her doubts, but let it lie, content to wait and see what developed. “It’s hard to believe she is the same waif you brought to my door all those years ago.”

  “Nearly five.” He shook his head. “Your husband tried to throw me out if I remember. Something about a respectable establishment.”

  Nadeena snorted. “I would never have had to take in lodgers if he hadn’t drunk and gambled his way through all of his inheritance and made a start on mine.”

  Another squeeze. “But the house was yours to do with what you would. And with so many rooms, taking lodgers still meant you had your privacy.”

  Not wanting to dwell on that aspect of her former life, she covered his hand with hers. “You were my very first lodger, and I give thanks daily my uncle mentioned you were looking for regular accommodation.”

  He took the reins in one hand and drew her hand to his lips. “I cannot believe the Gods have gifted me with a second chance at love.”

  She snuggled back up with a smile. “Nor I.”

  The motion of the cart lulled her to sleep, but her mind clung to their recent conversation, insisting on revisiting the awful time after her husband’s death when his debtors threatened her and Roseena with all manner of unsavoury actions if she did not honour his debts. She awoke with a start as Ranly stopped the cart, pulling her into his arms.

  “My poor love. It was that same dream. I promise, they cannot harm you. Those evil men do not exist in this world.”

  “Oh, Ranly. Do you really think so? I have not had the dream in this world. Maybe they did …”

  “Hush, my dear. Do not say it. I’m sure it is merely because we were talking about it. Let us fill your mind with more pleasant things. Did I tell you about when Ran and I met the Dean?”

  “Only a dozen times, but do tell it again.”

  ~*~

  Eanje

  The unremitting heat made everything an effort. Even with Tasker’s magical brew giving her some energy, Eanje struggled to cope with the long, stifling days. Night brought a little relief but, even with both doors and all the windows open, the house suffocated. Alysen seemed unaffected, apart from drinking a little boiled water from the beaker Tasker had created with the same spout as his spoon.

  Tryslan refused to settle after his midnight feed, and Eanje had taken to feeding him on the bench just outside the house so his mithering would not disturb the other adults trying to sleep. Alex and Quilla no longer demanded a midnight feed, sometimes sleeping till three or four.

  Jarl reckoned the weather was building up for a summer storm and, after the third day with no release, even the bench outside offered no comfort to the fractious boy. After struggling for an hour, an image sprang into her head and, popping a hide and a spare linen into the wheeled carriage, she pushed him to where her willow promised succour.

  The moon lit her way and, as soon as she reached the bank, the river’s rushing water, albeit considerably slower than normal, brought a coolness. Spreading the hide on the ground, she debated whether to take him out of the carriage, but he had found rest during the journey so she left him be and curled up on the hide.

  The lightening of the sky dragged her away from a shadowy dream, and she stretched stiff limbs as she pulled herself up to check on her son. The shock of the sight shrugged off all sluggishness.

  The carriage was empty.

  ~*~

  Jarl

  The hot, sweaty weather played havoc with Jarl’s sleeping patterns, and he could not shake the notion his dreams were trying to tell him something. For several nights around the full moons, he had been taken back to the years spent away from home. Years spent questing abroad in an attempt to thwart the treacherous feelings he had for Senna. Years he had roamed the continent, taking more and more dangerous assignments for his regiment and ultimately, his king.

  This involved many journeys crossing the English Channel, and if he were to spend a couple of days on board a ship, he needed to ensure no one posed a threat to his safety. Over the years, he’d found an efficient way of doing this, offering his services to the captain as a security chief. One such mission began with an invitation to a good address in London.

  Scanning the majestic study, Jarl noted the heavy tapestries warming the walls and ornately carved furniture which would not look out of place in the palace. Captain Holt had done very well for himself after a broken leg finished his military career.

  The only outward sign was a slight stiffness as he strode across the room, shaking Jarl’s hand. “So good of you to meet with me.” As ever, the man got straight to the point. “I would appreciate your services for a crossing next week.”

  “That depends.”

  The captain had no qualms in describing the itinerary, assuring Jarl he would be able to drop him off on the northern shores of Frankia in time for his appointment.

  Standing next to the captain at the head of the gangplank, Jarl played the part expected of him. Holt insisted he wore a dress uniform to impress men of such high-standing as Flemish nobility and an Italian envoy. Who was first in line, his richly embroidered clothes crying out for him to be held at knife point and relieved of the fat purse doubtless hidden in the outlandish pantaloons.

  His expression impassive, Jarl held out his hand for the papers, scrutinising them meticulously without a word.

  As a foil for Jarl’s reserve, the captain enthused about his new ship, describing the benefits of the modern design and the increased security measures he’d instilled to guarantee them a trouble-free voyage.

  “Are you suggesting that brute can read?” The Italian’s heavily accented question accompanied a sneer as he buried his large, beak-like nose in a posy of flowers.

  “Read, write and speak several languages.” Jarl replied in flawless Neapolitan as he handed back the papers.

  The man grabbed them with a venomous look, only slightly mollified as the first officer took his arm, promising to show him to his cabin. “The captain has a bottle of his finest Portuguese wine waiting for you.”

  “I hope it’s not the foul hog’s blood I had on ...” The man could be heard grumbling all the way down the ship.

  Jarl’s smattering of Flemish and Danish was enough to impress the two nobles who escorted their wives while a beleaguered governess marshalled several children of various shapes and sizes. The captain personally escorted Van Artevelde and his party to their cabins, leaving Jarl to deal with the portly merchant and his sour-faced wife.

  Having offered Cavendish, a jovial, red-faced man, a goblet of a much lesser wine, he excused himself to secure the cargo. He felt much happier in the company of honest “salt of the earth” types than the airs and graces of their supposed betters.

  Like the second mate, Kernan, a young Yorkshireman with much too ready a smile for th
e job he had to do.

  “Tha’s no notion of how grateful I am for your help. This is a cargo and a half. And wi’ the merchant hisel’ aboard, Cap’n Holt has us all minding our p’s and q’s.” He clutched the manifest like a holy bible.

  Following behind, Jarl hid a smile at the lad’s earnest innocence and eagerness to please. When the ship lurched, Kernan stumbled, and Jarl figured he’d not travelled too many miles on board. This looked less and less like the easy purse Holt had described. With a new ship and inexperienced crew, it was rapidly turning into a recipe for disaster.

  One end of the lower deck had been partitioned into a cargo hold and separate food-store. As Kernan described how the doors and walls were reinforced against thieves, Jarl doubted these measures would withstand the determined attack of the professional marauders who fashioned themselves pirates.

  Not wanting to undermine the lad, he didn’t mention that these rooms were the favoured haunts of stowaways, both having many nooks and crannies for them to hide. Nor how it was not unknown for the more unscrupulous officers to take a bribe for turning a blind eye to a relative in need of transport.

  He tapped on each barrel to assess how full it was and shook it to determine whether it carried the goods stated on the manifest, as Kernan ticked them off on his list. “Do you know what these are for?” The lad fairly burst with the need to share the information. He really had no clue.

  But in this case, he had not picked an opposing spy to leak to. Jarl assumed wide-eyed innocence. “I have no idea, but it sounds as though you have.”

  “Oh. I was hoping you would know.”

  Something felt a little awry. Maybe the lad wasn’t as green as he made out. Maybe it was some kind of test of Jarl’s loyalty. Before he had a chance to pursue it, a scream shattered the relative peace.

  Instantly alerted to potential trouble, Jarl cursed the inadequacy of Holt’s uniform which had no provision for the functioning sword and dagger he normally carried on any mission. He doubted if the pathetic excuse for a sword hanging from the belt had the strength to fight its way out of a linen sack. It looked the part, with gleaming blade and ornate handle, but it had no weight. He had no doubt it would shatter into a million pieces if it were so much as threatened with properly tempered steel.