by Jacky Gray
‘How dare you?’
The angry voice brought him back from his daydream and Geraint opened his eyes to find Siany standing over the swing chair. Assuming she was angry because she’d been using the chair earlier, he jumped to his feet but, as before, the powerful nature of the mind link weakened so his legs could not support him and he collapsed back into the chair. He must have looked really ill because her anger vanished in an instant, replaced by a tender concern as she fussed over him, feeling his forehead. ‘Are you all right? Shall I fetch someone? Your father or the innkeeper?’
‘No, I …’ His parched mouth made his voice crack disturbingly and the effort brought on a coughing fit. She leapt up, but he caught her arm and she waited impatiently while he swallowed, poised to fly off as soon as he let go. ‘Just … water … please.’
She ran into the building, returning almost immediately with a glass of water, and he drank some, smiling his thanks.
‘You had another one of those dreams didn’t you?’
‘What do you mean, “Those dreams”?’
‘Like I had at the long barrow. I felt the energy swirl round you as I came close. Was it your mother again?’
‘Yes, but …’
‘Did she have another message for you?’
He was about to shake his head when the thought popped into his mind as though his mother had said it out loud. “Tell her you’re sorry.” ‘She told me to apologise to you.’
‘Really? She knows about me? But she never met me.’
‘She’s guiding me and knows I must do something to make you understand …’ he broke off as the image came into his mind.
‘Do what?’
Siany leant towards him just like the image in his head and he completed the other part of the picture, leaning towards her and kissing her lips. He’d never done it before, but somehow he got it just right so their noses didn’t knock and her mouth seemed to fit his perfectly. A warm rush of energy surrounded them both like a hug and, as she shivered slightly, he knew she felt it, too.
As he kissed her, several images flew through his mind: the time on the bridge when he told Manfrid she was not his girlfriend so he would let her go; when she said the carter was not her boyfriend; and when he told Rowanne that Siany was his girlfriend. Although he did not touch any other part of her, he felt as if every inch of them were bound together, and she did not seem in any hurry to break the bond. Eventually, he needed to breathe, but she did not open her eyes for several heartbeats.
‘You really said that to Rowanne?’
‘That you were my girlfriend? I know I shouldn’t have done, but she was being so mean to you …’
‘I meant about me being ten times more beautiful than she is.’
‘I think I actually said, “Than she could ever wish to be.” Or something like that.’
‘But she’s so pretty, you can’t really think that.’
‘Some people might think she’s pretty, but I see a spoilt, scheming girl who tries to manipulate people so she can get her own way.’
She looked down at her hands and her voice dropped as though she didn’t really want him to hear her next comment. ‘So you don’t really think I’m beautiful.’
Lifting her chin so she looked directly into his eyes and couldn’t possibly mishear his answer, he spoke slowly. ‘Siany, you’re the most beautiful girl I have ever met, on the inside and on the outside.’
Although he read her instinct to lower her eyes or look away in embarrassment, somehow she returned his gaze. As he watched, she began to glow with a golden light which radiated out from her face, surrounding her body like a powerful, protective aura.
‘What’s happening? You’re shining all over like you’re a sun.’
‘Well, it is nearly midsummer.’ She smiled. ‘You’re glowing too; we’re probably just reflecting the midday sun.’ But when they looked up, a large white cloud had blotted it out.
When Rattrick awoke, he walked with them into the town where they whiled away a pleasant hour or two looking round the craft market. He examined the jewellery to pick up ideas about the things which could be done with the thousands of shells they’d gathered. Siany was particularly helpful; she had an artist’s eye married with a practical nature. This allowed her to make suggestions to improve the durability of the fragile creations. She bought an intricately woven necklace for her mother, and they spent several hours after supper working out how they could copy the technique and inventing new designs which would be simpler to make but no less effective in appearance.
Rattrick appreciated her generosity in freely giving her ideas and her ability to include anyone around her in the project.
The innkeeper’s wife enthused about the idea, offering needles to pierce the shells ready for threading with the strong twine. She was delighted to receive the first completed necklace and wore it the following day. Her husband, seeing the interest it provoked in the large group of women who were staying at the inn on their way down to the south coast, asked if he could buy a few dozen of them.
‘I’m sorry, but the youngsters are here for a holiday.’ Rattrick was reluctant to agree to his suggestion. ‘It doesn’t seem right they should spend it working.’
Siany had other ideas. ‘I don’t mind, what else would I be doing while mother and father are so poorly?’
‘What about you, Geraint? Surely you have better things to do.’
‘If it means we go to the beach every day to collect the shells, I don’t mind sitting for a few hours in the evening threading them.’
The mystery sickness turned out to be a violent reaction to some seafood they’d eaten at the feast and nothing to do with the alcohol, but it kept Siany’s parents in bed for most of the week. By the time they were able to get up, the other three were so adept at making the necklaces, they’d used up the entire store Rattrick had collected to take back to the camp. While the invalids took it easy, the others spent the last two days at different beaches, filling every spare nook and cranny in both wagons.
The innkeeper made such a profit in selling the necklaces, he bought all of ones they’d made, including the matching wrist bands and ear rings. But Siany’s best gift was to show the innkeeper’s wife and daughter how to make them so they could continue to produce them when the stock ran out. For that, the innkeeper would not let them pay for their week’s lodging. Darryn was impressed, saying she should have the money for all her hard work. She tried to split it between Rattrick and Geraint but he would not hear of it, insisting he should be paying her for her creative ideas instead. In the end, he agreed to compromise: He would match the payment to Geraint if she would give him permission to continue to use her ideas to produce the jewellery at the camp.
With their share of the profits from the sales to the innkeeper, they both ended the holiday much richer than they’d started it, and not just in financial terms.
32 Midsummer Kisses
The holiday had a profound effect on Rattrick which benefited every member of his tribe, but most especially the women. Having been part of a totally male-dominated regime, he could now see how the attitudes of the men in his tribe were demeaning to the women. He’d also seen at first hand the powerful effects of a female-run society and the way everyone worked together as a team to support each other. The strongest influence was the completely selfless way Siany had helped him to design and create the beautiful jewellery, happy to give freely of her talent and skills with little thought for any personal gain. Looking around the camp, he saw the same was true of every single woman there; they gave so much and expected so little in return. He and the other men had been guilty of taking advantage of their good nature simply because it’s how it had been for many generations. Well, no longer; he resolved to make some drastic changes in the way they lived their lives.
Rattrick started by calling a big camp fire meeting. To every woman who brought along some food, he presented one of the beautiful shell necklaces. He then gave a speech saying this was a
totally inadequate return for all the occasions they’d taken their time and used their talents to provide nourishing and tasty meals for everyone to eat. One or two of the men looked a bit disgruntled at this and he caught a muttered comment.
‘They wouldn’t have the meat to cook if we men hadn’t gone out and hunted it. Where’s our reward?
‘If you want a shell necklace Andrzej, I have a spare one here.’ When the laughter died down, he continued. ‘I do not mean to make light of the men’s contribution to the camp fire meetings, but I’m sure you’ll all agree the women generally make far more effort towards them than the men.’
‘You mean because they take longer to cook the meat than we take to kill it. That’s their look out.’ Several of the men nodded while the women just shrugged their reluctant agreement.
‘That’s their look out? What, it’s their fault cooking takes such a long time?’ Rattrick’s face suggested otherwise. I’m sorry, but I can’t agree with that. I’d like to see the man who could cook a meal which would taste as good as a woman’s meal in the same time, let alone in less time.’
He looked around but none of the men volunteered. Most of them knew their limitations in that area, but Andrzej would not be beaten so easily. ‘You can’t compare the cooking of an animal with the skill it takes to hunt and kill one. It takes us years of training and all the trials before we are fit to kill a rabbit, let alone a deer.’
‘Whereas the women are just born knowing how to prepare and cook them.’
‘Exactly.’ Andrzej walked straight into Rattrick’s trap. As the women glared at him and the other men laughed at his discomfort, he tried to take back his words. ‘I mean, of course they are not born knowing it. They learn it from their mothers.’
‘Which is of course totally different from the boys learning from their fathers.’
‘Of course it is. I mean …’ he looked around for support from the other men, but none came. ‘Well, the hunting is much more important.’
‘Because the men do it?’
‘Yes. No. We wouldn’t be able to eat without meat.’
‘So the nuts and fruit and vegetables which make up most of the meal just grow and harvest themselves do they?’ Vadoma’s comment raised a few chuckles as several of the men joined in.
‘Could you eat a broth without the bread to dunk in it?’
‘And the milk just curdles itself into butter and cheese.’
‘I don’t think I could bear to live in a world without cakes and biscuits.’ Vadoma smiled at her husband’s supportive words.
‘Or pies and puddings.’ Drina’s husband Emilian rubbed his belly appreciatively.
Rattrick sat back with a smile while several of the women had their say, noting with satisfaction that many of the men agreed with the comments. Then he said his final word on the matter. ‘I think we’ve been doing our women a disservice all these years in not recognising their skills and abilities through formal training and trials.’
Several of the women murmured their agreement, as he continued. ‘We’ve expected them to do all of this in addition to the work they do in keeping the wagons clean and cared for and creating artefacts we can sell at the markets. I think it’s time we recognised their efforts and showed that we place as much value on them as the boys training and trials.’
Pausing to let the ideas sink in, he let the discussions run on. When they abated, he beckoned his son to stand up, asking him to say his piece.
~*~
Geraint stood nervously; he’d never talked in front of so many people before and was terrified he might say something to make people disagree with his father’s proposal instead of supporting it. He felt an unexpected warmth, as though someone had just lit a torch by his shoulder, and he turned to see Savannah smiling at him encouragingly. As soon as he started telling them about the way the girls did the same challenges as the boys in the lehrens, he forgot who he was taking to and his nerves disappeared.
‘Are you telling me the Townie girls do all the same sports as the boys?’ Andrzej was determined to discredit the idea. ‘I’ve seen the Aveburgh boys jousting and fighting with swords.’
‘No. The girls practice on the quintain and they can compete on the rings but they will not do a full joust, nor will many of the boys until they are seniors.’
‘What about the sword and buckler?’
‘They’re taught some unarmed combat, but not to the level of our Herfest challenge, just enough to defend themselves. But they can all use a longbow.’
‘Never. A girl would not have the strength.’
‘They shoot over a reduced distance, but many of them are skilled enough to hit a gold at thirty paces.’
‘Just because they can hit a fixed target doesn’t mean they can shoot a moving one. And they’d be no good fighting against a man.’ Andrzej refused to acknowledge the idea that girls could be of any use in a skirmish.
Rattrick had listened with a proud expression as Geraint answered the man’s objections, but his eyes twinkled as he passed on what he’d seen of Siany’s skill. ‘You wouldn’t say that if you’d seen Geraint’s girlfriend tip him arse over elbow.’ With a smile of apology for his son’s discomfort, he warmed to his theme. ‘A girl can be trained at least to defend herself against attack with a few smart moves. There is no reason why she shouldn’t know how to use a knife or a bow.’
‘It’s not that we don’t appreciate your new found confidence in our abilities, but where is all this coming from?’ Drina’s dry comment was picked up by Vadoma.
‘Yes, Rattrick. Why are you so keen for us to learn about fighting? Are you planning an attack on Hereward?’
‘If the girls have to learn fighting, shouldn’t the boys learn how to cook and sew?’
‘And where are we going to find the time to do all this extra training? Let alone the extra effort devising and running these trials.’
Rattrick was pleased at the amount of feeling he’d stirred up from the women and was quick to assure them his intent was to make things easier for the women, not harder. He said from that moment on, the women would have a say in all the decisions made at the camp fire meetings and the work load was to be shared more equally. He proposed that if a woman provided goods for the market trips, the money would go to her directly rather than her husband. When they voted on it, although many men resisted the idea, the few who agreed were enough to tip the balance. After asking each person to think of one idea for the best way of reorganising the training and trials, he called for another gathering in a week to discuss it. Before the business ended, he described the rogue band of Renegates they’d met in Kent, asking everyone to keep a watchful eye out for any strangers in the area. Several people were concerned and he and Geraint spent some time giving full descriptions of the men they’d seen.
At the following meeting, they agreed to pass the descriptions to the other Renegate groups so Geraint wrote them down. Savannah pointed out that if their operation was to infiltrate the local towns, then surely the Townies needed the information more. Rattrick suggested Darryn was better placed to inform the Oxford marshals but it wouldn’t hurt to give a copy to the Aveburgh authorities as well. They discussed how this could be arranged, given the poor relationship they generally had with the people of that town. After his father quashed several facetious suggestions, Geraint suggested he could have a word with Fletch or Finn, receiving lots of teasing remarks about the grand circles he was moving in these days.
The solution presented itself when he visited the Open Arms at the weekend; Siany suggested getting together at Stonehenge during the Litha celebrations.
Most families in the camp expressed a wish to travel down as they’d done at Samhain, and his father had already agreed to stay behind to provide extra protection for the three families who didn’t go. Geraint travelled down with Thanet’s family, but the younger lad dogged his every move while they were at the monument.
Thanet was completely awe-struck at meeting the legendary Fin
n and Fletch, pleading with them to come and say hello to his family so they would believe he’d actually spoken to them.
Geraint was mortified by the request, but pleased when they agreed. Having met the lad’s parents, Finn insisted the lad stay with them until after the ceremony as they had important business to discuss.
‘Thank you so much, having a permanent shadow was getting irritating.’
‘But he’s so cute, the way he worships you like some kind of hero.’ Siany had taken a shine to the lad.
‘I just thought it was better he wasn’t around considering the subject matter.’
‘And of course it will allow you two love-birds to sneak off without your chaperone when we’re done.’
Fletch’s quip caused Siany to blush, but her embarrassment left as the two men she called uncles started firing off questions about the potential threat. Geraint recounted her family’s narrow escape, describing his father’s ingenuity in saving them. He responded intelligently to their increasingly detailed questions.
At Finn’s request, Siany took a look at the descriptions Geraint had written down to see if she could add anything, but she’d barely glimpsed the men. Apart from spotting a couple of spelling mistakes, she could add nothing.
‘Trust you to spot those.’ Geraint shook his head.
‘Sorry, we’re taught to check. Otherwise, your writing is superb. Someone’s taught you well.’ They exchanged a glance which spoke of shared memories.
‘Never mind that; what about the descriptions?’
‘No, I don’t think … wait.’ She closed her eyes and Geraint knew she was back inside the carriage with the wild shouting and war whoops. ‘Sorry. Something feels out of place, but I can’t quite put my finger on it.
