by Rivka Spicer
When they’d finished their tea and Jen had managed to get some lunch, she went straight up to work on her dress. She’d drawn out the patterns before the whole Le Santaine mess for which she’d be eternally grateful. All she needed to do was cut out the fabric and put it all together. It was stunning fabric, pastel blue with lines of poetry printed on it in a satiny pink sheen that was impossible to see until the light caught it. Some of Nkara’s finest work Jen thought cheerfully, pinning down the patterns and carefully cutting around them. She’d have to remember to give her a pay rise if the new season’s collection sold well. It was looking to be a busy year. There were at least three major film premiers coming up in June alone and the phone had been ringing off the hook with actresses wanting Jen’s dresses. She’d worked with some incredibly famous people in her time, but to be honest Jen was more concerned with the dresses than the people actually in them. Designing was her life. She adored it. Even now, doing the mundane job of cutting patterns, she was in the zone. It was her love and her therapy and the demand for her work showed that she was bloody good at it. At least five other people at the ball on Friday night would be wearing her creations that had been commissioned especially and she had no idea how many more would be resurrected from cupboards for the event. It gave her a small surge of pride every time she saw one. If, in the unlikely event she died a poor woman, she’d be a very happy one.
Chapter two
That night as Jen slept back in her old bed, she had an incredibly strange but very vivid dream. She dreamt she was standing under a stone lintel looking out across rolling hills as far as the eye could see, unblemished by any man-made thing. A cool wind was blowing across her face bringing a slight scent of wood smoke and something else that smelled earthy. She knew she was waiting and she realised that a slight wetness she discovered on her face was tears, but why she was waiting or why she was sad she had no idea. So she stood and she waited and she cried into the breeze for what seemed like hours in her dream but must have passed as only minutes in the night.
“Lady Eriona?” A soft voice behind her made her jump and she spun round. The woman that had interrupted her thoughts was dressed, for some inexplicable reason, in layered skirts and a peasant blouse with a shawl that looked decidedly mediaeval, but for some reason it didn’t seem at all strange. When Jen looked down at herself, she realised why. Her skirt was emerald green shot through with gold and layered over ivory petticoats, which were just showing at the floor. Holding her arms out, Jennifer looked at the dropped sleeves and frowned. It seemed so wrong to her modern sensibilities and at the same time perfectly normal. It just felt strange and Jen began to get distressed. Wisely the other woman chose to ignore Jen’s discomfort, and inclined her head. “Lady Eriona, they’re waiting for you in the Great Hall. Dinner is ready.” She smiled a motherly smile. “Latest word from the war is that it’s going well. Lord Tegryn will be home soon My Lady.” Thoughts began surfacing in Jen’s consciousness, but as she grasped at them to try and make sense of what was happening, they slipped away again like smoke.
“Of course he will.” As she allowed herself to be led away from the view, Jennifer woke up and lay for a few moments totally disorientated in the darkness. Her clock said it was 3am and she groaned, stuffing her head under her pillow where it was cool. The last thing she needed was a sleepless night.
For twenty minutes she tossed and turned before drifting into a doze and then finally dropping back off into sleep. This time she dreamed she was in a room, dark and smoky, lit by braziers in the four corners. She was dressing a man in gladiatorial-style armour in silence, the hush broken only by the hissing of the coals, and the sight of him caused her heart-ache almost beyond belief. Automatically she placed each single piece of reinforced leather and iron on his huge frame, buckling the straps tightly and whispering a small prayer over each in her heart that it would protect him from harm and still he stood in silence. Getting down to her knees she began to place his greaves on his shins and a gentle hand caressed her hair as she worked causing a sudden welling of tears and she began to sob. When she was finished, he helped her to her feet and looked into her eyes.
“Will you not change your mind?” He asked her and Jen couldn’t meet his gaze.
“I cannot.” She whispered. In reply he nodded, cupped the back of her neck and kissed her forehead gently.
“Then I shall wait for you on the other side my love.” Brushing tears away with a strong thumb, he kissed her forehead again. “Do not weep for me, I am not afraid. Without you life is nothing. I will wait. Destiny will see us right in the afterlife.” Smiling broadly, he walked away from her and left the room. Jen collapsed in on herself as grief and raw aching pain ate at her from within and she realised that this must be what being heart-broken felt like. Huddled on the floor she hugged the ache within herself and keened for love and the pain it wrought.
For the briefest of moments she awoke, barely having time to register the wetness on her face before she settled back into dreaming once more. This time she was lying on the floor on sheep skins laid over rushes forming a soft bed, with further furs blanketed over her to keep her warm. An arm tightened reflexively around her waist and Jen snuggled back into the warm naked body behind her. They were lying in a long, dark, low-ceilinged room that smelled smoky and earthy. Somewhere to the side a fire was blazing and Jen watched the patterns thrown by the flames onto the walls for a few moments.
“Morning.” Murmured a sleepy voice and she smiled, turning in his arms to remind herself all over again how handsome he was.
“Morning.” Her throat was parched with thirst but she wasn’t ready to get up just yet. She just wanted to lie and play with the soft blond curls on his head, twisting the little gold chain round and around her finger while he smiled sleepily at her with those gorgeous hazel eyes of his.
“Did you sleep well?” He whispered and she smiled, nodding.
“The Ragnarok could not have awoken me.” She joked and he chuckled, catching her hand and pulling it around him, slapping it onto his buttock with humour before pulling her into a searing kiss that made her tremble all over with want.
“I have something that would have woken you up had I not been too sleepy to use it.” He laughed breathlessly when they came up for air, pressing said item into her lower belly and she laughed with him.
“I don’t know...” She joked. “I might even have slept through that!”
“Never!” He gasped. “Just for that I think we’ll have to try it. Go back to sleep!”
Giggling, Jen closed her eyes and pretended to be asleep as he kissed her slowly and languorously, gently rolling her onto her back. Trying not to laugh Jen pretended to snore briefly until her lover collapsed in fits of laughter over her.
“That’s not fair!” He accused. “Let’s just forget the test and make love anyway.” Jen opened one eye and squinted up at him, amused, before opening the other eye and wholeheartedly throwing herself at his suggestion.
They devoured each other with wild abandon, coming together passionately and with laughter. It was one of the most beautiful, wild and carefree moments of Jen’s life. Afterwards they had lain together with all the blankets kicked off them and their sweat drying in the heat of the fire. She had started to say something to him but he touched a finger to her lips and kissed her softly before turning away from her to retrieve something from a hidden place beneath the mattress.
“I have something for you.” He murmured softly, passing her a bundle and she sat up to accept it with questioning eyes. “I was going to wait until we had our first child but right now I love you so much I just want you to have it.” He explained and she felt tears standing in her eyes at his words.
“I love you too.” She touched his face and he kissed the palm of her hand.
“Open it.” He encouraged so she untied the knot and rolled open the bundle to reveal the most gorgeous necklace she had ever seen. Her breath caught as she reverently traced a finger across sections
of woven gold and burnished drops of amber and gold.
“Oh!” She didn’t know what to say. It defied words. He was looking at her hopefully as though unsure whether or not she would like it and after swallowing tears of joy she threw herself at him in a full body hug, hoping that he would accept it as the thanks that it was. Laughing he embraced her back and kissed the top of her head fondly.
“I am happy that it pleases you.” He squeezed her one last time and then released her. “Sit up and I’ll put it on for you.” Eagerly she got up and knelt before him, holding up the great masses of her golden hair so he could fasten the necklace around her neck. Once finished he sat back to admire it and she traced the line of it around her neck with her hands.
“It’s beautiful.” She smiled at him and he nodded, looking as though he was in awe.
“That it is. As are you. Together there is nothing in the world that can outshine you.” He leaned forward and planted a kiss on her lips. “It is called Brisingamen.”
As the name echoed around her head Jen shot upright in bed, heart beating wildly in the darkness. For a few moments she was totally disorientated, blinking as she looked around with no idea where she was and clutching at her night dress as though to remind herself it was still there and then she remembered who and where she was. Trembling, she pushed her pink and blue hair back from her face and slowly lay back down to rest, waiting for her heart to settle. Her skin was damp with a soft sheen of perspiration and her body throbbed. She had never reacted so...physically to a dream before. She did not sleep again that night.
The following morning she was unusually quiet at breakfast and her parents eyed her with concern. She looked awful – red-rimmed eyes with huge dark circles beneath them and her skin was blotchy as though she’d cried all night. Finally her father put down his paper and removed his reading glasses.
“Jen are you alright?” He asked gently, and she blinked.
“I’m fine.” She smiled tiredly. “I just had a bad night.”
“Are you sure?” Jennifer put on her bravest face.
“Yes Daddy I’m sure.”
“Okay.” He gave her a long, measuring look and then realised he wasn’t getting any more out of her. “Well I must go – world domination won’t wait!” Rising from the table her father shrugged on his suit jacket and kissed both Jen and her mother’s cheeks before heading out for the day.
“Darling, you know if you want to talk about anything I’m always here for you?” Her mother offered and Jen smiled.
“Thanks mum, but really I’m fine. I just had these awful dreams. I woke up this morning and my pillow was wet where I’d been crying all night. It’s taking a while to shake off, that’s all. I’ll be fine in a bit.” Finally convincing her mother to believe her, Jen managed to escape before she started on about the wedding again and went to the gym figuring some exercise would clear out some of the dreamer’s blues. The gym was in the conservatory her father had built when Jennifer was a teenager for her to keep fit after she’d joined the school rowing team. She’d excelled at the sport and had fully intended to continue with it until she became so busy at college she just didn’t have time. After that she never had a chance to get back into it and all she could do was use the state-of-the-art rowing machine her father had bought her and imagine she was out on the open river. Switching on the loudest, craziest music she could find, Jen rowed methodically for almost two hours, taking only small breaks, before she felt calm and happy enough to get back to dress-making. Having a quick shower, she went back to stitching the beautiful fabric together, forgetting all about lunch until her mum came up to the studio to find out where she was.
“I’m sorry.” Jen flushed as her mother berated her for forgetting to eat. “I got a bit carried away.” Her mum finally came all the way in and looked at the dress.
“It’s going to be beautiful.” She commented, sneaking a quick peek at the finished design pinned to the notice board. “That fabric is really glorious.” Jennifer grinned.
“It’s wonderful to work with too. Feel how soft it is and yet it’s so easy to sew.” She grinned cheekily. “I was thinking of hiring a tame monkey to sew it as an amusement attraction...” Jen’s mum burst out laughing and decided to leave her to it.
“You do that. I’ll have someone send up a tray of food. Just don’t forget about dinner.” Jen rolled her eyes at her mum’s retreating back and replied,
“Yes mum.” In her sweetest singsong voice.
That night Jennifer stayed up late working on the dress which was almost finished and by the time she got to bed she was exhausted. Hoping for a dream-free night, she switched off the lights, climbed under the covers and settled down, falling asleep almost instantly.
She dreamed she was standing on a vast plain, looking out across the hugest expanse of grass she could have ever possibly imagined. As far as the eye could see there was nothing man-made, just groups of horses. It wasn’t warm and she pulled a shawl around herself to ward off the slight chill in the breeze.
“Looking for your boyfriend?” A loud voice jeered behind her and Jen jumped, startled by its proximity.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” She stated primly, turning to face her accuser, a short man with long black hair and a nose that looked like it had been squashed in one too many fights. He was dressed in deerskin pants and moccasins with no shirt, oblivious to the cold. “I was listening to the wind.”
“Of course.” He mocked. “And what did the wind tell you? That your lover is waiting for you by Shaded Creek?” Rage seethed in Jennifer’s soul and she stepped up close to him.
“Watch your words Two Horses.” She warned. “One day I will make you eat them.” Spinning on her heel she gracefully stalked away across the plains, laughter following her on the breeze.
Waking briefly, Jennifer yawned and rolled over, almost immediately falling back to sleep and into another dream.
She was standing on the shore of a large river looking out across arid hills, bleached pale in the glare of sunlight. The air was hot, dry and dusty but heavy with the scent of exotic flowers. She reached up to shade her eyes from the sun and realised with a start that her skin was nut brown and sporting several solid gold bangles inlaid with blue stones. She was dressed in draped cream linens with golden pins and a rope belt that crisscrossed her upper body several times.
“Great Queen.” A slave had prostrated himself on the floor at her feet. “You are summoned to the palace.”
“Lead on.” She commanded and he leapt to his feet and scurried away from her backwards, bowing over and over again until he was a few feet away and could turn around. She followed him up a well-worn path planted with bushes covered in small white flowers that smelled dizzying in the heat. They passed small boats floating in the river and several buildings on the same bank as they walked. They were built of a pale yellow stone and were blocky-looking as though built by a child who only knew ‘square’. In the distance a small splash heralded the entry of a crocodile into the river and that caught her attention long enough for her to almost miss a small group of men in loin cloths throwing themselves to the floor as she passed. Finally they turned from the water and headed inland a short way, passing through some beautifully wrought gates into a large complex of sand-stone buildings.
“Tsk Tsk” A woman took over from the slave and shooed her along a cool hallway, shaded from the sky by great sheets of white canvas. “Look at you all dusty again. You must look your best for His Greatness.”
She was taken to a large suite of rooms and seated in front of a burnished metal mirror where the female slave took a comb and a bottle of oil to her hair, brushing it out until it was fragrant with the scent of herbs. Her face was washed and then they applied a heavy liner to her eyes before finally putting some colour on her lips and hurrying her along to the great hall.
Upon entering, she fell to the floor along with the others until a familiar voice bid her rise.
“Welcome, most
favoured wife.” The voice was deep and melodious and rang with authority. “I wish you to dance for us.”
“Of course.” She rose to her feet and waited for the drums to start before flowing into movement, losing herself in the rhythm and the swaying of the beat as she told in movement the story of her favourite goddess. The drums were growing wild and her heart was beating fast as she kept up with them, bringing a flush to her cheeks. She wanted to laugh for the fierce joy of the movement but didn’t have enough breath in her.
When the drums finally went silent she bowed, waiting for her lord’s command and her breathing was so heavy she didn’t hear him approach, his sandaled feet soft on the tiled floor. When he caught her chin to bring her up to look at him she startled and he laughed, a deep rumbling sound.
“You have pleased me greatly.” He declared. “You will stay with me tonight.” Finally she looked into his eyes and it was as though looking into a mirror. This was her father, the Pharoah.
Waking up in a cold sweat, Jennifer looked at the clock and with a sinking feeling she saw it was still the middle of the night.
“Not again…” She groaned, and hauled herself out of bed to splash some water on her face in the bathroom. As she stared at her face in the mirror she realised she needed to get some proper sleep. The ball was less than twenty-four hours away and she couldn’t turn up looking like death pre-warming. Opening her medicine cabinet she rummaged through it until she found the sleeping pills her doctor had prescribed her a few months before when she’d been suffering from stress-related insomnia and took two tablets before going back to bed to try again.