by S E Turner
Meric had his back to him with his head tilted forward. Lyall put his hand on the physician's shoulder. 'You are not responsible for this, Meric. Zoraster was of sound mind. He knew what he was doing.'
The physician clasped Lyall's hand in his own and dropped his head further. 'I am supposed to save lives, though.'
'You saved Namir's life, and you made Laith's last few days more comfortable than anyone else could have. Zoraster decided that without Laith, he would be too unhappy, that his life down here had no purpose anymore. And in making that decision, he is up there with his lifelong friend.' He looked to the skies once more to see if he could make sense of anything.
Everything was changing, Lyall thought to himself. He, too felt that he didn't have a place in the community anymore. Namir was leader, he was going to marry Skyrah, and they would have a family. What was here for him now? Be the devoted uncle trailing after Namir and Skyrah with no real purpose? That's how Zoraster felt, especially with Meric as the newly appointed medicine man and healer.
But unlike Zoraster, Lyall was still a young man. He had a home to return to, and a whole life ahead of him. Zoraster didn't have that privilege. He understood the old man's dilemma. Perhaps he knew only too well and could foresee what Zoraster wanted to do.
'We have to cremate them together,' said Meric, shifting his weight to a stand. 'That's what he wanted; that's what they both wanted.'
Lyall sighed heavily. 'I believe you are right, dear friend. I believe you are right.'
Chapter Seven
The ashes fell like soft grey snow and covered the camp with a delicate dust. When he awoke, the pale light of morning was slanting through the gap in the animal hide shutters. He sat upright and squinted through slitted eyes as he adjusted to the daylight. Namir had left a mug of nettle tea beside Lyall’s bed. The touch of it told him that it hadn't been there long. Pursed lips sipped at the piping hot liquid, filtering it slowly into the cavern of his mouth.
'Ahhhh,' he sighed as the nectar revived him. 'My brother can indeed make a fine cup of nettle tea.' He continued till only the dregs remained before climbing out of bed. 'I know exactly where Namir will be,' he said to himself as he stepped into his breeches and swung a coat over his shirt. 'He'll be out there practising.' He smiled to himself as he laced up his boots and threw back the door covers of their hut. This walk was one he had done so often recently. He looked in awe at the snug dwellings, standing sentinel over the gardens of nature's allotment.
'Morning, Clebe,' he said as his friend stepped outside for a yawn and a stretch.
'Ah! good morning Lyall,' Clebe responded with a smile. 'Off to your lessons?'
'Yes, I am; the things we do for our siblings, eh.' His expression sparked a raucous laughter.
Ronu appeared from the back of the hut with an armful of chopped logs. 'The days of hunting are well behind us now, aren't they,' he chuckled.
'Nothing lasts forever,' Lyall answered back. 'Got to change with the times.' He stopped for a moment. 'How are Silva and Hali doing in their new roles as hunting tutors?'
Ronu held on to his pile tightly as he approached. 'They are doing really well.'
'I hear that Wyn and Hass are turning out to be model huntsmen as well,' Lyall remarked.
'They certainly are, but I think they've had a lot of preliminary training.' The two men shared a knowing look. 'As you say, Lyall, got to change with the times, and I enjoy working in the fields now.'
Their conversation was halted as Enelle came to the door to see what Ronu was doing. She was heavily pregnant and was about to give birth any day. She waved from her position while the other arm supported her lower back.
'Not long now, Enelle!' Lyall called out.
'Thank goodness,' she shouted back.
'You'll be there for the wedding, I hope? '
'You try and stop me,' she called back and waddled back inside.
He continued on his route until two young children rushed up to him, followed by the family dogs. He reached down to pick up the younger one and tousled the hair of the oldest.
'Now where are you off to, I wonder?' he asked playfully.
'Mother wants some poppies for father.'
'Is he running out already?'
Lyall knew that Bagwa smoked the poppy seeds. His young daughters were sent on errands to collect more while his wife ground them down to make medicine for him.
'Meric says to get a supply while we can. Poppies are the best plant to stop his pain.'
'You carry on the good work, girls, I'll be seeing him shortly.' He set the youngster down and straightened out the hair of the older one.
The children ran off as Lyall looked on after them.
'Perhaps I should offer Bagwa the invitation to come back with me to the castle,' he thought to himself. 'I'm not sure how many more winters he can cope with out here.'
He carried on, immersed in his thoughts, until he saw Namir practising his moves on the mound where his father's hut used to be. He nodded his head to acknowledge Bagwa, who was softly drumming on a taut animal skin and puffing away on a clay pipe. Namir was moving perfectly in time to the beat and holding his arms out to an imaginary partner. 'You're late, brother,' said Namir catching sight of him as he turned.
'Sorry, got caught chatting to Clebe and Ronu.' He looked over to his old friend. 'How are you today?'
'Not so bad now we have the better weather, and of course I can't live without this.' Bagwa took a deep puff of his pipe and blew out circles of smoke.
'I'm glad you have got some comfort, Meric is full of magic tips.'
Namir carried on dancing as Lyall watched his moves.
'Tell me again why we have to do this, Namir?' Lyall’s look was perplexed as he tried to make sense of the steps.
'Because it will surprise Skyrah. She will not be expecting me to do this.' Namir continued as he spoke.
'And why do I have to do it?' he queried.
Namir stopped in his tracks. 'To help me of course. You thought it was a good idea a week ago, and you said you would help me practise.'
'Yes, I know, and I still do, and I still will. But I am concerned that Skyrah might be a bit shocked that she will be called to perform it on her wedding day; because she learnt it from the General.'
'Lyall, I have seen her do the dance loads of times. When she thinks no one is watching, she performs the steps. She is such a natural at it. If anything at all has come out of that dark time, it was to show us all just how clever and resourceful she really is.'
Bagwa stopped tapping and took the moment to inhale long and hard on his clay pipe .
'Yes, I know, I'm sorry,' lamented Lyall. 'I'm overthinking it. So, what do you want me to do today?'
Namir let out a long sigh under a withering look. 'You stand next to me like this.'
Lyall had to adopt the lady's position, left foot forward, hand raised, and Namir took his place beside him.
'Are we ready now?' Bagwa asked from the corner of his mouth and exhaled from his pipe on the other side.
'Yes, please.'
Bagwa began to play again. Namir nodded in time to the beat and stepped lightly to his left. Lyall, also nodding to the beat, stepped to his right and promptly collided with him.
'No, Lyall, the left foot goes back and to the side...' Namir was already exasperated. 'You should know this by now.'
'Oh, yes. Sorry. I remember now.'
'Lyall, we have less than seven days. We must get this right.'
'I'm sorry, Namir. I'm not concentrating, I'll be fine now.'
'Bagwa, can we start again?' Namir's tone lacked patience, and it didn't go unnoticed.
Bagwa looked up, drew on his pipe and tutted at them both. They all started again. This time, Lyall concentrated. He was led by Namir, and together they managed the side-steps, the dips, and the turns. The drumming kept them in tight formation, and they mirrored each other’s steps perfectly. Round and round they went: flowing rhythmically, weightless, effortless. Lyall
didn't dare look Namir in the eye for fear of losing his focus. But when it came to the lift, Namir collapsed in a fit of laughter when he felt Lyall's crotch pressed against his face and struggled to hold the stance. It took a while for both of them to get the focus back and regain the posture.
But now the precision was broken, and they couldn't do the lift without falling about in giggles. Even Bagwa was distracted and choking on his pipe. So, by the fifth time, Lyall stepped out of the way. This gave Namir more room to pretend he was lifting Skyrah. But the image still made Lyall splutter, so he had to turn away each time.
'I do hope Skyrah remembers this part,' he eventually managed to say. 'So that when you put her down from the lift, she will do her spin.'
'She will remember. I've seen her do it a thousand times. She just won't be expecting me to be able to dance with her though.'
Namir came to a standstill and looked pleased with his progress. The pained expression of exasperation had been replaced by his softer tones through laughter. 'That's enough for one day.'
'Norg is making some wooden pipes,' said Bagwa. 'They will make a wonderful sound with the drum.'
'That's great,' chimed Namir. 'Can he come and join us tomorrow morning. We must get this right?'
Bagwa nodded, Lyall threw a thin exasperated smile, and Namir patted them sharply on the back.
Chapter Eight
The preparations for Namir and Skyrah's wedding day had been more complex and grandiose than any preparation for the recent battle they had fought. The wedding of a leader was something that didn't happen very often. Indeed some clan folk would never witness a wedding such as this in their entire lifetime, so when it did happen, nothing was left to chance.
This was a festival to be celebrated, and a mammoth feast would ensure the longevity of the clan under the gods and totem's protection. A monumental banquet would be served on the eve of the wedding, consisting of sweetbreads, tarts and pies. The wedding breakfast would be a range of fresh eggs, bacon, sausages and wild mushrooms while the wedding feast itself would offer whole hogs and whole salmons, roasted chicken, quail and duckling; a selection of vegetables, salads, nuts and dried fruits with steamed apples, baked wild pears, and honeyed wine to complete the course .
All this took time to prepare, and the women were busy throughout the day while the wedding platform and tiers were constructed. Groups of men had been deployed weeks ago, informing the neighbouring clans of the forthcoming nuptials, for not only would this union secure the dynasty of the Clan of the Mountain Lion, it was also to be a celebration of Laith's rich and wonderful life. It would give thanks for the lives of all the men who had fought the battle pay homage for those souls who didn't survive, but most of all, it was to secure the continued allegiance and loyalty of the neighbouring clans.
Skyrah had enlisted the assistance of her mother, Chay, to oversee all the decisions, and her two best friend's, Arneb and Tali, to see to all the arrangements. So, on the other side of the settlement, in the girl's hut, she was discussing her speech with Arneb. 'I have to say something that is meaningful to us,' she began.
'Well, that can't be too difficult,' said Arneb sensitively. 'You two have a lifetime of experiences and wonderful moments. It's a case of which ones are the most important.'
'I know, but that's my dilemma., Which ones?'
'Speak from your heart, dear friend. That's what I will do on my wedding day. It has to come from your heart.'
'What would I do without you? I will truly miss our time together.'
'Me, too, but I will be busy with this place. '
'This is fine work, I do not doubt it, but you need to find a husband.'
Arneb laughed. 'Let us get you married first before we think about me.'
'Yes, of course. Come on, help me write this speech, then I will help you find your soulmate.'
When dawn broke on the day of the wedding, a golden sun rose up high, and cast pink and blue shadows across the stirring village. The sacred stones shimmered white behind a veil of rays, and the echoes of a memorable evening were just rolling out of sight. Rows of tents had been erected in the neighbouring fields, and each one seemed to rise and fall with the heavy breathing of a successful night of partying. Slumber was confined to minutes now as the pungent smells of cooked breakfasts began to waft round the camp, and waking bodies twitched under the mouth-watering odours. But before the wedding breakfast could be served, everyone would have to bathe in fresh water from the stream, and don fresh new clothes. This was a new dawn, this was a new day. This was the start of change, and the beginning of a very exciting era.
Namir was rubbing the dust from his eyes and Lyall was laying out his wedding attire.
'What time is it, brother?' asked Namir with heavy eyes. 'Have I overslept?'
'No, you haven't overslept. The smell of cooked bacon is the alarm call, and we have plenty of time. I have drawn your bath for you and laid out your robes. The fire will keep you warm.'
Namir swung his legs from under his blankets and sat upright. He was still adjusting to the light. 'What time did you get up?' he asked sleepily.
'Up with the crows this morning. I was the first one in the stream and then it took a few pitchers to fill your bath.'
'Many revellers abandoned in the fields?'
'None at all, which surprised me.'
'It was a good day yesterday.' Namir stepped into the warm water.
'It was, indeed. Here let me help you.'
'Thank you.' Namir lowered himself into the bath.
'I'll always be there for you. You know that, don't you?' started Lyall.
'Of course, I do, and I'll always be there for you.' Namir rinsed his face in the fresh water and shook his head like a wet dog.
'I'm always just a stone's throw away. Whenever you need me, I will be right there. There is nothing I wouldn't do for you, and I will be telling Skyrah the same.'
Namir pulled a finger out of a cleaned inner ear and looked at him. 'Lyall, I'm getting married, I'm not undertaking some mammoth adventure with Skyrah.' He paused a while and grinned. 'Though some might think it that way.'
Lyall smiled at the allegory. 'I just want you to know that whatever you need, I'll be there for you both.' He then joked to change the tone. 'But I don't want you getting too used to this bathing malarkey. This is a once in a lifetime job.'
Namir threw a sloppy wet sponge at him. 'Believe me, I won't. Besides, I am sure Skyrah will do a better job than you anyway. You haven't even done anything.'
Lyall threw it back. 'Here, you ungrateful sod. Finish off yourself. I'll go and get us a plate of eggs and bacon.'
They both laughed as Lyall disappeared out of the hut. But Namir had an unsettled feeling that something was amiss in his brother's thoughts, and that whatever it was, he really wasn't going to like it.
Chapter Nine
By noon, the stage was set. The standing stones loomed around them, shimmering in the light of the sun. In the sky above, shining like the sculpture of a bronzed god, a golden eagle looked down and carried on its flightpath towards the mountains. Namir had donned his full-length white robes, complete with a grand garland of impressive animal tusks, and looked every inch the proud groom and new clan leader. Beside him stood his brother, wearing similar white robes with a smaller garland. And as tradition dictated, the stag's antlers from their kill, some two years previous, had been ceremoniously secured to the entrance of Namir's home—a sign of completeness and total protection of the newlyweds. Bagwa and Norg sat at the entrance of the standing stones and ushered the guests in with hauntingly beautiful melodies on the pipes and drums. The sun was at its highest point, and Meric had taken his place at the Altar. Chay sat in the front row behind the brothers. Namir and Lyall faced the clergyman. Leopardsbane was placed on a horizontal stone protecting the rings, and a blaze of light bounced off the blade as the sun pivoted on its axis.
The glare lit up Meric's eyes, and the congregation knew that the bridal party was ready. S
kyrah moved silently down the passageway with Arneb and Tali in attendance. Each of her maids carried a clear obsidian stone—a piece of natural glass that bore a lighted wick with a glittering natural beauty. It rendered them sacred and were only used in important ceremonies such as this. The bride wore a pure white silk dress that had been woven by Chay. Her rich raven hair was loosely scooped up, secured with flower buds and elaborately carved grips. There were gasps of delight as she glided lightly past her audience, keeping her eyes focused as she approached the Altar. Namir and Lyall looked at each other and then hung their gaze on the beautiful Skyrah.
When everyone was in place, the heavenly music stopped, and Meric invited the wedding ceremony to begin. 'Welcome everyone to this special occasion. It seems not that long ago we stood here saying our farewells to Laith and Zoraster, and now here we are witnessing the union of these two much loved and well-respected people.'
Skyrah and Namir nodded in appreciation of the acknowledgement.
'But be sure in the knowledge that Laith and Zoraster are here with us today in spirit, and all those who have left this world and who want to share this day with us, they are here amongst us now. '
The congregation bowed in memory of loved ones and welcomed the spirits in.
Meric continued. 'Today is special because we are hailing a new dynasty. We look to the spirit guides and totems to take care of these two young people as they begin a new life as husband and wife. We ask the spirits to help you support them and protect them, in whatever guise that might be.'
Lyall sought his guide to give him added strength and to protect Namir during this transition. 'We begin with the two speeches of declaration. So, Namir, would you please start with yours?'
Namir choked back a hard swallow and touching her light with his own, declared his love for Skyrah. 'The gods looked down on me the day that Laith brought me here because you were here waiting for me. I remember the days when we ground up plants for your mother as she tried to save your father. He probably knew that I would take care of you, and protect and love you like no other; so he left this world with peace in his heart.'