by Jacky Gray
“Conjunctions. It means when two things happen together, like when an Esbat and a Sabbat happen on the same day as they did at Samhain.”
“But the full moon was last night, Cora spoke about astral travel.” Fabia frowned. “That’s all I can remember.”
“And Imbolc is not till tomorrow.” Quinn piped up.
“Except each of them are in power for three days, so tonight will be their strongest point.” Jarl narrowed his eyes. “Do you think this man could have been the Archdruid by any chance?”
“Yes. I thought his voice sounded familiar.”
“Fabia.” Lyran knelt on the floor beside her. “Will you help us try to find them?”
She glanced at her father. “What do I have to do?”
“When Lyrelie gets here, we shall try to connect to her thoughts, but it will help if you are in the room, because it may trigger another memory.” He caught Granger’s eye, and the man nodded a moment before his daughter did.
When Cal brought a worried Lyrelie, the house was filled with concerned faces. Eanje was impressed by the way Lyran organised them in circles, those with the strongest connections in the central one. At her suggestion, they included little Alex, sitting on Jarl’s lap, with Lyrelie on one side and Lyran on the other, with Alysen on his lap.
As she linked hands with Cal and Quinn, Senna’s parents turned up, along with Cora and Alfun. The circles got bigger, and the room more crowded, but finally, everyone was ready. Lyran led the blessing, calling for help and Eanje instantly got an image of the longbarrow.
Several voices repeated the same thing. Then Fabia spoke up. “He said it is most powerful near water. And between night and day, at sunset or sunrise.”
Lyran and Jarl spoke simultaneously. “Twilight.”
~*~
Jarl
As he rode to the longbarrow, a dozen awful thoughts raced through Jarl’s mind. He imagined worse ones plagued Lyran as he tried to keep up. With only four horses close by, he decided Bryce and Cal would be best, leaving Dennon and Aleksi to confirm the absence of the four suspects and collect further clues from the tithing heads.
As they approached the longbarrow, a bonfire glowed in the darkening sky. Seeing no advantage to stealth, he and Bryce spurred their horses on, catching sight of the four figures dancing around the fire, chanting.
Zane held a baby-sized bundle above his head and, at the moment Star rode up the bank, threw it into the air above the bonfire.
Spurring his horse to leap across, Jarl caught the bundle, which fell apart to reveal a snake, and he felt the sting as the angry creature sank its teeth into his arm. Star thumped down on the other side, and he fell off, dislodging the reptile which slithered away.
The four figures disappeared into the barrow and, as the others leapt off their horses, Bryce wasted precious moments checking Jarl’s injuries. They heard the squeal of a babe and Lyran dashed into the barrow, returning a moment later with his screaming son. A dark stain seeped through Lyran’s fingers which gripped Tryslan’s arm.
Lyran took control. “Bryce, check the barrow. Cal, find Senna. Jarl, get my bag from the horse.”
Reacting instantly to the tone of command, Jarl found the bag, but dizziness overcame him and, as he dropped it on the ground next to his cousin, he passed out.
When he awoke, Jarl’s arm was immobilised in a splint and a familiar-smelling poultice brought back memories. As did Senna’s tender ministrations as she helped him to drink a familiar-tasting potion, but without the tang of blood. He grinned, using a familiar tease. “Will I live?”
“For many years. Eanje has my sympathy.”
He snorted, and then frowned. “And Tryslan?”
“That boy is made of strong stuff. He lost a lot of blood, and Lyran has devised a way he can take blood from both him and Eanje to replace it.”
“Like the opposite of using leeches?” Jarl chuckled.
Senna did not share his levity. “It is dangerous, but I have every confidence Lyran will make it work. He has finally accepted him and will raise him as a son no matter what. It’s the one good thing to come out of that night.”
Images of the horror filled Jarl’s brain, hardening his tone. “What happened to the monsters who nearly killed him?”
Senna hung her head. “I cannot believe how well they fooled us all.”
“How do you mean?”
“Lyran has been treating Zane and the Archdruid and his wife, because none of them took Lyrelie’s potion.”
He frowned. “I thought the purpose was to determine if they were suitable for passing through to the new world. Gaia’s natural selection process.”
Senna’s expression suggested she had dark thoughts, but she kept her tone neutral. “Apparently, they have not taken the remedies for the past two moons because they decided to attempt to return to the other side.”
Jarl nodded. “I can see why they would want that. Every attempt they have made to gain status and power over here has been thwarted, but they might have more success in the old world.”
Senna’s eyes widened. “Of course. I understood they wanted to return, but could not fathom why. That makes a lot of sense.”
“I take it they were successful?”
“We can only think so. We found no sign of them in the longbarrow, although Lyran and Bryce both saw them run in after distracting you with the snake.”
“A nasty trick. Snakes don’t normally bite unless they are afraid.”
“Thankfully, the poison has not spread far.” She sought his gaze. “It was brave of you to leap the fire to save a babe not even yours. You could have been seriously injured.”
“I know Star’s courage, that horse would do anything for me, even leap flames.” He scrambled to sit up. “Where is he? Has someone checked him?”
She calmed him, forcing him to lie down. “Do not worry. Both Lyran and Alfun have examined him, and Cal is tending to him every couple of hours.”
“Right.” He shook his head.
“I have some people who are keen to see you, if you have the energy.”
He frowned. “I’m not sure I am ready to face visitors.”
“I think you will see this one.”
“I am certain he will, unless he wants a scolding fit to make his ears burn.”
He grinned as Eanje ignored Senna’s muttered warning about being gentle, and launched herself into his arms – or in this case, arm – as she covered his face in kisses.
18 – Storm Moon – March
Storm moon: Dreams to plant desires. Reorganise/future plans. Potency. Focus on inner self, spiritual journeys
Lyrelie
The tithings had been full of speculation about the events. Osman and Bernadine gathered the tithing leaders in an emergency meeting, reporting the departure of the four back to the old world and limiting discussion of their desperate methods.
At the next meeting, the council proposed that the role of spiritual leader should be shared among the men and women capable of fulfilling that role, similar to the way they did with the Esbats.
Cal reported with glee Bernadine’s suggestion that the full moon ceremonies could be shared by male and female. It had caused a flurry of sceptical looks around the table and a few grumbles. Mostly from the men who did not appreciate the idea of being up at midnight for a spiritual ceremony.
Lyran was reluctant to discuss Gaia’s part in the four rebels’ departure. When Brom pressed, he would admit to nothing except the conjecture that if the three had drunk Lyrelie’s potion, they would not have made it through in the first place.
The following week, Lyran gathered their entire tithing together for a meal, explaining what he’d told the councillors.
Osman glanced around the table. “I understand why you were reticent in front of the entire council, but can you tell us anything about what Gaia said?”
He breathed in deeply, obviously torn. “Like what?”
“Like why Wilona was allowed through with her extre
me views.”
Lyran relaxed a little. “Despite what we might think, Gaia will admit she is not infallible. None of this behaviour had been hinted at in the girl’s previous life, she had only ever been sweet, caring and deeply respectful of nature.”
Verat scoffed. “It just shows you how people can change in the name of love.”
“They certainly can.” Jarl winked. “It is amazing what the love of a good woman will do to a man. I think every man around the table will agree.”
Among the flurry of nods, Alfun spoke up. “And the lengths a woman will go to for the sake of protecting her loved ones.”
Senna was quick to counter. “The same is true of men. It is a shame the man she loved was more bad than good.”
Bernadine sighed. “I cannot believe how much the Archdruid changed. He used to be so trustworthy. I’m still confused how he and his wife managed to cross over without the potion.”
“Because they had, until recently led blameless lives. Gaia assures me the presence of all four had a purpose, and we should not focus on their misdeeds, but give thanks for all the good things they gave us and the lessons we learned.” Gesturing for them to link hands, Lyran led them in a thanksgiving blessing.
As they passed around the baskets of warm bread twists, Cal voiced a pressing concern. “Will their presence back in the old world not endanger us?”
Jarl nodded. “I wondered about that, but then I remembered how deranged they all looked – people will likely not take them seriously.”
Lyran shook his head. “Even if they could convince anyone, they would have no way of transferring. All the portals have been sealed.”
Quinn frowned. “Presumably no more people will be coming through. So what happens now?”
Lyran hesitated for a moment, obviously searching for the right words. “Gaia is distancing herself again to give us a second chance at running this world. She will only intervene if our progeny revert to bloodshed instead of harmony.”
As people worked through the implications, Shayla squeezed his hand. “You must be so relieved not to have that pressure any more. It must feel like a burden has been lifted.”
He smiled as though emerging from a long cold winter to see the first rays of the sun. “This is not the only reason I gathered you here. I’m sure most of you have fathomed the changes, and I would like to invite you all to a handfasting in a few weeks. In fact, a double one as Senna has agreed to return to me.”
“And Eanje continues to display her courage in taking on this old soldier.” Jarl raised her up and kissed her to delighted applause.
“Can we eat, now?” Verat’s perfectly-timed plaintive request had every one chuckling.
As they walked home, Lyrelie mused on the absurdity of her parents swapping partners, finding the idea a little unsettling.
Cal soon set her straight. “I’m glad it has worked out for all of them. Although Jarl and your mother made a good match, she and your father are like two halves of a whole. They are meant to be together.”
She nodded, that part made perfect sense.
“And as for Jarl and Eanje, I don’t think I’ve ever seen two people more in love.” He waited for the expected reaction, but she refused to play along, so he hurriedly added, “Apart from us, of course.”
“You almost hesitated too long.” She hid a grin. “I will agree they are much better suited; I cannot believe they did not get together long ago. From the little I can pry from either of them, they met ten years ago under perilous circumstances.”
He grinned as they reached their house. “The women in your family do seem to have a fondness for danger.”
Her warning glare, perfected on classes of rebellious youths, made no dent in his cheerfulness as he continued.
“Which is why you need strong men with plenty of courage to rescue you.” Grinning, he ducked as she swiped at the air where his head had been. Catching her hands, he pulled her into the sort of kiss which almost made her forget what they had been talking about.
Almost, but not quite. “What I don’t understand is what on earth will they do with the babes? Who lives with who?”
“That is easily solved. They continue to live as before with all four of them raising the three babes. And you have two new sisters and a brother, exactly as before.”
She nodded. “I suppose it makes sense. Although in truth it’s three new sisters; little Quilla is every bit a part of the family.”
“Although she follows Alex around as though she is the oldest. That one is a leader of men.”
“Like her father. I cannot believe she is walking at ten months, it seems very early.”
He stroked her belly, pressing his face close to talk directly to it. “Don’t listen, my love. It is not a competition, no matter what all these mothers say. You will crawl and walk and eat and talk exactly when is right for you.”
She giggled as the babe kicked and he jumped back just as Freya and Verat entered, with the inevitable tease.
Gaia showed her support for the happy occasion, providing glorious early-spring sunshine for the chosen day, three days after full moon and three days before the vernal equinox. Supporting her back, which ached fit to bring her to tears, Lyrelie lowered herself into the chair placed especially for her. Freya, Nadeena and Dagda sat close by, all four anxious husbands standing behind.
Freya giggled. “Doesn’t this take you back to last year? A double handfasting, just like ours.”
Lyrelie grinned. “Except I cannot think there are too many where the groom’s father and daughter are both expecting babes. It quite defeats normal reason.”
“Nothing short of inconceivable.”
Nadeena smiled. “It’s a good job Ran is not here or he would contradict most vociferously. We are definite evidence of conception.” She rubbed her belly.
As the women giggled, Ranly shushed them. “Show a little respect. This is a sacred place.”
“Hush yourself.” Nadeena refused to be cowed. “We are not in a church where some man decides a male God will be angry because people are sharing their delight at what should be a joyful occasion.”
“She is right, Grandfather. Gaia knows every person here respects the earth and everything she provided for us. It doesn’t mean we have to be sanctimonious about it.”
Ranly held up his hands against the onslaught by the only women he allowed to speak to him with such disregard for his station.
Even as she had the thought, Lyrelie realised her error. In the past couple of years, he had gone from a straight-laced, scary authority figure, to a much gentler, more reasonable man. He now listened when many women spoke, including Senna, Shayla and Cora. But his biggest soft spot was most definitely reserved for Eanje, the girl he treated like the daughter he never had.
A susurrating sound alerted her to the fact the two brides approached from the sun circle. This was followed by a chorus of approving “ahhhs” as the two grooms approached from the moon circle.
This had been Quinn’s idea when he and Shayla agreed to officiate. As the ceremony followed the familiar stages, Lyrelie winced as the babe moved from one side to the other, as though seeking a way out.
Cal noticed her concern, bending down to ask if everything was all right.
“I only hope this little one waits until the end of the ceremony. Mother tells me I was in such a hurry to come out, she barely made it through Cora’s handfasting. Something about responding to the henge energies.”
He squeezed her hand. “If she does decide to pop out, we will not need to look far for a midwife.”
Epilogue: A Medieval Utopia
So, it ends where it began: a handfasting and an imminent birth. Lyran normally gets the last word, but as he’s no longer a ghost, any more than the rest of us, he had no prior claim.
As this was mostly about me (Eanje), the other women agreed I should get to chat. I hope you didn’t find my tale too harrowing, and appreciated the light relief of glimpsing into the lives of medieval women fr
om many different walks of life.
The one thing everyone seems to agree on is that we all got the right partners in the end, even though it took a while!
~~***~~
Author’s note: The wonderful women who inspired many of the characters in this story, read the stories from top to bottom and could not find any loose ends to tie up.
You, of course, may feel differently. If you enjoyed the story, or have something to say, please leave a comment.
This series has fulfilled its purpose – to explain how the Hengist world was created.
My focus now is to conclude the story for which Nature’s Tribe is the prequel. But before then is the Hengist series, which has a very different feel, having a handful of teenage boys taking the lead – more action, less romance but with the same amount of (British) humour.
It begins with Archer - here’s a taste of his adventure:
Scanning the crowd for a friendly face, Archer found none. It seemed each one relished the idea of him being thrown to the ground and stamped on by the mountainous blacksmith’s son.
“Come on, Raven, smash him to a pulp.”
“Yeah, he’s no match for your strength and skill.”
As Raven treated his supporters to a display of powerful muscles, Archer fully understood that the rest of the Outils would want to back a member of their clan. And he understood the Magis were too afraid of their self-appointed leader to do anything but cheer his champion.
Edlyn’s smug sneer showed how confident he was of his position as Magi top dog. He clapped the bigger lad on the back. “We’re all behind you. You cannot fail to give him the trouncing he deserves.”
Raven grinned as he cracked chubby knuckles in Archer’s face, a gesture intended to threaten.
He had two choices. Should he stay true to his training and show no fear in the face of such intimidation, or should he pretend to cower in the hope of attracting some encouragement?