by Hondo Jinx
“By accident, maybe. See, these new friends of mine, they might startle you a little.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well,” Braddock said, and trailed off. Where could he even begin? Finally, he decided not to begin at all. If you’re struggling to find words, it’s usually best to quit hunting them.
He whistled.
A green blur burst from the trees and flashed across the meadow fast as a falcon.
A second later, Philia was standing beside him with one slender arm wrapped around his lower back. “Hi!”
Elizabeth backpedaled with a shriek. Apparently, the word hi wasn’t cutting it for her today.
“Who? What? How?” Elizabeth sputtered, then jumped again when Chundra stroked her leg, trying to put her at ease.
“It is a pleasure to meet you, Elizabeth,” Philia said with a little curtsey. “You are very beautiful.”
“Thank you?” Elizabeth said, blinking at the green-skinned woman. “You speak English?”
“I am Philia,” the lovely sprite said, “and yes, I am able to communicate with you. I know you are a newcomer to this world, and I can see that my appearance puzzles you, so please allow me to explain myself.
“I am a meadow sprite. This morning, I was merely a dew maiden.” Philia slipped her arm through Braddock’s. “But then my wonderful husband set me free.”
“What?” Elizabeth shook her head, looking shocked. “Husband?”
Braddock nodded and draped an arm over Philia’s shoulders. He didn’t see any way to tiptoe up to this, so he gave it to Elizabeth as straight as he could. “Philia and I bonded.”
“Bonded?”
He nodded again. Elizabeth could figure out the finer points later. “She’ll be living with us now.”
“Living with us?” Elizabeth looked back and forth between Philia and Braddock, her face twisted with apprehension.
“Yes,” Philia chimed. “Isn’t that wonderful?” She rushed forward and grabbed Elizabeth’s hands. “Are you ready to make love with us and become my sister-wife?”
“What? No!” Elizabeth jerked her hands away as if she’d touched a hot stove.
And speaking of stoves, at that moment, the overwhelmed redhead went stiff as a poker, staring out to where Doal was trudging across the meadow with the stove on his shoulder.
Elizabeth’s long scream warbled with terror.
She had not reacted particularly well to meeting Chundra or Philia, but the sight of Doal pitched her into utter hysteria. Elizabeth knifed the air with screams, giving each cry her all, hunching with it, shrieking over and over like a cawing crow.
Philia stepped forward and brushed her fingertips across Elizabeth’s cheek.
Elizabeth recoiled. “Don’t touch me! I know all about fairies. Father read me tales when I was just a wee child. You lure men into forests and seduce them and—”
“Peace,” Philia said, and Braddock’s nostrils filled with Philia’s sweet scent.
Elizabeth fell silent and wobbled there, looking stunned.
Braddock didn’t know what Philia had done. Some sort of sprite magic. He was just glad Elizabeth had quit blatting.
“Sweet, sweet sister,” Philia said, and stepped forward to kiss Elizabeth’s cheek.
The redhead smiled.
“You are feeling much better now, sweet sister,” Philia told her, reaching up to arrange a few of Elizabeth’s errant curls. “Much better. Happy, in fact. The big fellow coming this way is my dear friend, Doal. He is a bargle. Can you say bargle?”
“Bargle.”
“Very good. Doal carried your stove all the way uphill. He’s bringing it back to you so that we can stay warm. Isn’t that nice?”
Elizabeth nodded.
“Doal is your friend. We are all friends. Isn’t that wonderful?”
More nodding.
“My sweet sister is so beautiful.” Philia’s fingertips moved slowly down Elizabeth’s cheek, traced the line of her jaw, and brushed down her pale throat, headed, it seemed to Braddock, for the quivering cleavage exposed by the missing button of Elizabeth’s blouse. “Dear, sweet Elizabeth, you would love to—”
“Enough,” Braddock said, and pulled Philia back to his side.
The sprite giggled mischievously.
“None of that,” he said. “Give Elizabeth some time to adjust.”
“Aw, you’re no fun, husband,” Philia said, mock-pouting. “Don’t you want to play with both of us?”
“No,” he said. “Cut the poor girl loose.”
Philia suggested Elizabeth go play in the meadow.
Elizabeth skipped out into the grass, waved cheerily at Doal, and traipsed across the meadow, picking flowers and singing prettily. Chundra skipped along beside her, squeaking happily.
Philia smiled out at the pair like a proud parent watching children at play.
“What did you do to Elizabeth?”
“I helped her.”
“Helped her, huh?”
“Yes, she’s much happier. Certainly, you can see that.”
“Oh yeah, she’s happier. She’s just not Elizabeth anymore.”
“Of course, she is still Elizabeth, silly husband. I didn’t transform her into a mole.”
Her words kindly jarred Braddock. “Could you actually do that?”
Philia shrugged, seeming to give it some thought. “Perhaps. Do you wish me to try?”
“No. Definitely not. I just wondered what you could do.”
Philia grinned eagerly. “I don’t even know myself. I’m excited to explore my new power.”
“Yeah, well let’s take it easy. And don’t get in the habit of messing with Elizabeth’s mind.”
“Why not, husband? You yourself admitted that she is obviously happier. If you so desire, I will cut to the chase and help Elizabeth see the truth. I think I’m strong enough to do that now.”
Philia closed her eyes. Her tiny nostrils flared as she breathed in deeply. Her wings fluttered, lifting her onto tiptoes and making her breasts quiver.
She opened her eyes, and a huge smiled lit her pretty face. “Yes, I am strong enough. Thank you so much for bonding with me, husband. A whole forest of power is surging to life within me.”
“I’m glad.”
Doal reached them and spoke in his grinding, cracking, rumbling language.
“Doal wants to know where to put the stove,” Philia explained.
Braddock thought for a second. They needed a contained space. The stone structure was too big to roof, but they could build a cabin atop its stones.
“Tell him to put the stove ten feet from the water pool.”
Philia gave a rumbling command in the bargle’s rockslide language. As when she squeaked with Chundra, Braddock was able to comprehend her basic message.
Doal grunted, leaned over the wall of the enclosure, and deposited the stove like a child placing toy furniture in a doll house. Then he sat down on the grass near the wall, settled into himself, and let his stony eyelids slide shut again.
Philia touched Braddock’s arm and regarded him with a worried expression. “Husband, certainly you do not plan to reside within the seal?”
“What do you mean, seal? That’s what this place is called?”
“Yes,” Philia said. “This is an ancient Sidian seal, a place of dark magic and ritual sacrifice.”
Philia’s big, green eyes stared with revulsion at the central table.
Braddock reckoned Elizabeth’s grisly guess was probably right after all.
“Can’t you feel the evil?” Philia asked.
He shook his head. “I feel something. Not evil. It just feels heavy, I guess. Like this place was important.”
Philia frowned. “Perhaps the evil I sense is merely dark magic staining the stones, but I don’t believe that to be the case. We should live on the other side of the meadow, husband.”
Braddock shook his head. “I stayed here last night with no trouble, and I’m in no hurry to abandon a dry, firm fo
undation with high walls, a firepit, and a source of clean water.”
Philia bit her lip then nodded slightly. “Your wish is my command, husband.”
10
Gleeful laughter drew Braddock’s attention back to the meadow, where Elizabeth was tossing Chundra into the air and catching him, both of them laughing giddily.
“Did you enchant Chundra, too?”
“No, husband. Chundra is happy by nature. The fur folk are fierce warriors, but they would sooner feast than fight. Now, as I was saying, I do have sufficient power to help Elizabeth see the truth if you so desire.”
“What truth?”
Philia smiled. “That she wants you, of course.”
“Wants me? Elizabeth doesn’t want me. She fears me. She thinks I’m a savage.”
Philia’s smile grew larger. “So she says now. Were you blind to her jealousy when I appeared, husband?”
“That wasn’t jealousy, darlin. That was shock.”
Philia laughed. “If you insist, my handsome Meadow Master. But I can smell her desire. Even if Elizabeth doesn’t yet comprehend her desire for you, she soon will.”
“Is that right?” he said, not believing a word of it.
“Even if you hadn’t saved her life, she couldn’t help but crave you, husband. You are magnificent and virile and magnanimous.” She grabbed his upper arms, squeezed the muscles, and purred like a kitten. “The perfect man.”
“Thanks, darlin. I’m fond of you, too. But just because we like each other doesn’t mean Elizabeth—”
“It is inevitable, husband. Why not cut to the chase? Let me exacerbate her natural desires and open her to you now. Look how happy she is, how pretty.”
Braddock’s new wife appeared to be quite the free spirit. They were going to have to talk about what matrimony meant. For now, however, he humored her and glanced out to where Elizabeth spun in the tall grass, whirling a giggling Chundra in circles. She was indeed very beautiful.
“Allow me to show her the truth, husband. She will lie down in our meadow, hike up her dress, and call you to her. We will make love to her, bonding her to us forever and empowering all three of us.”
“That’s crazy talk, darlin.”
“How? I sense you are trying to honor Elizabeth in some way, but in reality, you are merely impeding her happiness. She will never regret bonding with us.”
Yes, she would, he thought. Not being from his planet, Philia clearly didn’t understand that, so he humored her for a second. “Maybe she wouldn’t. But I would.”
Philia laughed. “Why? Don’t you find her attractive?”
“Oh, I find her very attractive, but I don’t want to bond with Elizabeth unless she makes that choice herself, with a clear head. Folks should be able to make their own choices. Making up our own minds is the only real freedom we have in life.”
“You are noble, husband,” Philia said with a smile. “Noble and romantic and very, very foolish.”
“Perhaps, but I’m also stubborn as a mule, so don’t bother trying to change my mind. And on that subject, never use your magical charm on me.”
Philia curtseyed and dipped her head. “Yes, husband. As always, your wish is my command.”
He grunted at that. Philia had overstated her pledge to eagerly serve. Seemed to him, she was throwing in her two cents at every turn.
That was all right. Love and loyalty were paramount, but he didn’t want a talking dog. He wanted a strong woman at his side, a woman to help him conquer this bold frontier.
“I understand you do not trust my charms,” Philia said. “Shall I concoct an elixir to heal Elizabeth’s wounds?”
“That would be great.”
“Oh, so you don’t mind my using magic on your special friend?”
“Not to heal her.”
Philia smiled sly. “Shall I return Elizabeth to her tantrum?”
He considered the notion, watching the beautiful redhead laugh as she chased Chundra through the tall grass. “No. Give her a minute. Let her have fun and cool down.”
Philia smiled mischievously. “So your stance on charm spells is… flexible.”
He snorted. Life with this sprite was going to be very interesting. “Don’t muddy the waters, darlin. You already cast the spell. Truth be told, I don’t feel like dealing with Elizabeth right now. Besides, Chundra’s having fun, and you wanted to have a closer look at the meadow.”
“Yes!” Philia said and whipped away across the meadow in a green blur.
Braddock strolled out onto the grass, unsheathed his Bowie knife, and plunged the shiny blade into the ground. It sunk to the hilt without striking so much as a pebble, let alone bedrock.
Philia zipped back to his side, resplendent with joy. “Oh, husband! The meadow is perfect!”
He unearthed the Bowie and smiled at the blade, ten inches of steel black with rich soil from point to pommel. “Fertile ground.”
“Yes, husband. Fertility abounds. This is paradise.”
Braddock nodded. Over recent years, he had spent a good deal of time on the move, driven by an excess of energy and a powerful imagination, straining ever onward to see what lay beyond the next horizon.
But now that imagination became vision, solidified into a mental hammer, and drove his spirit into this ground, staking a claim on the land and his limitless energy alike.
His head filled with crystalline images of what could be. Though he had never been patient enough to join them for long, he had always admired the big spirit of pioneers. And privately, he had reckoned that one day, when he found the right plot of ground and the right woman to break sod beside him, the pioneering spirit would unfurl its bright flag in his heart, filling him with unwavering optimism.
Today was that day.
“We will build cabins here,” Braddock said. “We’ll need to cut plenty of timber. The mustang will need shelter and a corral and a dry place to put up hay before the winter. I reckon it’s too late in the season to grow crops, but we will gather what food we can and build a smokehouse to preserve the meat I hunt and fish I catch.”
“Yes, husband,” Philia said, her eyes glowing with enthusiasm. “It had not occurred to me that we must prepare for winter. My former meadow remains warm and productive year-round, thanks to Hortensia’s power.
“In time, I will be able to do the same things here. But you are correct. We must prepare for the long winter. I will gather nuts and roots, apples and berries, and various plants and herbs to dry for winter soups.”
Braddock nodded with approval and glanced at Doal. “Will he help us?”
“Of course, husband. Doal is wonderful. Though he will hibernate during winter.”
“How long do we have?”
“We are one moon into autumn. So, two moons.”
“And how long does winter last?”
“Three moons.”
He nodded. The seasons on Tardoon sounded much like those of Earth, at least in their division and relative length.
“Doal will return after winter?”
Philia nodded.
“Good. We will need his help.” He turned in a full circle, possibilities bursting like fireworks in his mind. “There is much to be done. Timber to cut, stones to carry, ground to break and plow and plant.”
“I will teach Elizabeth to gather food and other substances,” Philia said. “That will free me to commune with the meadow, cultivate magical power, and begin making elixirs. Additionally, I will pleasure you night and day and do my best to recruit wives.”
“Hold on there, darlin. You want to recruit wives?”
“Yes! Monster girls will flock to you, and our power will grow with every woman you save.”
“By bonding.”
“Of course!”
“You want me to build a harem?”
Back on Earth, most folks, especially civilized types like the disdainful Elizabeth O’Boyle, viewed polygamy as barbaric.
But Braddock was no stranger to the custom. In tribes of the no
rthern plains and Rocky Mountains region, chiefs and powerful warriors frequently had harems. Plenty of mountain men had multiple wives, too. During a blizzard, Braddock once sheltered with a Mormon with seven wives, and the whole lot of them viewed polygamy as nothing less than a spiritual duty.
From what he understood, women in these situations often appreciated their sister-wives. Life is hard on females, and that goes double on the frontier, where men are mostly coarse and greatly outnumber women, who are expected to work like mules from dawn to dark. In plural marriages, at least, women have company. Sister-wives share the workload, commiserate, and swap wisdom.
Bottom line, some plural marriages are happy. Others are miserable. The same can be said for monogamous unions, of course.
Either way, a marriage’s success or failure comes down to the folks involved.
Especially the man.
A weak man who devolves into drunkenness, sloth, or infidelity will never please even a single wife.
If, on the other hand, a man is a hard worker and good provider; if he is smart and strong and balanced, with a surplus of love and patience and vision; and if he marries wisely, he and several spouses can prosper greatly and fill a good-sized spread with children and laughter… regardless of prudish scorn from sanctimonious naysayers.
So the notion of plural marriage didn’t bother Braddock. But that didn’t mean he wanted to go rushing into it, either.
“Of course I want you to build a harem, husband!” Philia said, beaming with excitement. “All the monster girls of Tardoon thirst for man seed, but do not worry, husband. I shall invite only the worthiest, most beautiful mates. First, I must recruit my seven handmaidens.
“Of course, if you fertilize these sprites, they will not technically be wives but Meadow Mistresses, but that is a distinction mostly of title, not function. And like I was saying, some of them will also serve as my seven handmaiden sprites. So long as that is your will, husband.”
He squinted at her for a second, remembering some of the things she had said to and about Elizabeth. He had misread his new wife as a Bohemian. She wanted more than a little bit of wild fun. And as she continued, he began to understand her motivation.
“Once I gather seven handmaidens, I will become a true Meadow Mother. And every time you bond with another monster girl, we will gain pride and power.” Laughter rushed from her, full of sunshine and summer breezes. “But I am so excited that I am getting ahead of myself.”
