Cast Under an Alien Sun (Destiny's Crucible)

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Cast Under an Alien Sun (Destiny's Crucible) Page 30

by Olan Thorensen


  “The child part is easy,” said Filtin. “Everyone knows the two of you are bedding, so if a child comes, you’ll be acknowledged as the father by everyone and the law. What that means is that you’ll be expected to assist raising of the child. If you don’t marry her, which I hear you’d not want to do, then she’d raise the child, and you’d provide support both for the child and her lost time in working the farm. The provision could be in coin, providing a worker for the farm, or some other arrangement that either the two of you’d agree on or would be determined by a magistrate, if you couldn’t agree. From knowing you and from what I know of Bronwyn, I wouldn’t anticipate it going to the magistrate.”

  “So there’d be no requirement for me to marry her?”

  “Why would there be? She’s a grown woman. A widow who owns her own farm. You’re a grown man with businesses of your own. What the two of you do in bed is your own concern, as long as any child is cared for.” After a moment, Filtin added, “Something you might consider is that it might not entirely be your overwhelming charm and sexual appeal she’s interested in. A child might have been part of her intention.”

  Yozef stirred, startled. He’d considered the possibility of a child, but not that it might be Bronwyn’s deliberate plan.

  “Why hasn’t she said anything? I just said a moment ago how honest she is, but if she’s planned this from the beginning, that’s deceitful.”

  Filtin shook his head. “Not necessarily. She knows you’re not from Caedellium, but she might assume you understand the customs better than you do. I take it she was forthright inviting you to her bed.”

  Yozef nodded.

  “I suggest you simply ask her. Remember, she’s unmarried, and the farm has been in her family for generations. If she doesn’t have children, there’ll be no one to pass it on to and no one to care for her in her old age. Then there’s the need most women have for children.”

  “If she has such a need, why not find another husband? I would expect she’s a prime candidate for marriage.”

  “She would be, if there were more unmarried men.”

  Then it came back to Yozef, what Cadwulf told him after the trial of the Camrin man for abusing his family, and the poor prospects for the wife to remarry once the court dissolved the marriage.

  Yozef ran a hand through his hair, as he considered his situation.

  “I’m not sure how I think about any of this. Back home, before I came to Caedellium, my wife was with child. I lost both of them, and now there’s the possibility of a child here that I wouldn’t raise.”

  Okay, so Julie and I weren’t married yet, but we were going to be, and there was the child I don’t even know if exists.

  Filtin’s expression was sympathetic. “I’m sorry about your family, Yozef. You’ve never said anything about them, and I guess I’d assumed you weren’t married.”

  “It’s just that I’ve been adjusting to the reality of never seeing them, and now there could be a child here.”

  “Maybe it would be God’s gift to you to replace the child you lost. It’s up to you to decide what you want to do, Yozef, just as it is Bronwyn’s decision to do whatever she wants. Again, I’d advise talking to her about all this. Openness is always best.”

  The Conversation

  The suggested conversation took place the next evening when Yozef made his sixday trip to the farm. A stew was simmering, according to Bronwyn needing another half hour to finish. He thought they should have the conversation before eating and heading to the bedroom. Yozef took a deep breath and leaped.

  “Bronwyn, can we sit and talk?”

  She turned from cleaning a dish and looked at him with a raised eyebrow at his serious tone. Wiping her hands on an apron, she sat opposite him at the table.

  “Bronwyn, you know I come from a different land than Caedellium.”

  She nodded.

  “The customs in my homeland aren’t the same as they are here. That means sometimes there can be misunderstandings between me and people here on the island. I try to understand the customs here, but often I’m not sure whether my understanding is correct.”

  She sat back a little in her chair, as if thinking she knew where Yozef was heading.

  “My people would say that two such as ourselves should both understand what is happening between them. I’d like to be sure that’s true for us.”

  Bronwyn tilted her head to one side with a puzzled look. “What’s happening between us? We’re bedding, and I hope to get with child. What’s not to understand?”

  Well, shit. That answers that.

  “I just wanted to be sure there was no misunderstanding. In my land, having a child places a strong responsibility on both parents to care for the child.”

  “As it does here,” said the still puzzled woman. “I’ll admit, I first thought you might be a possible husband, but we’re too different. This farm is my life, and I won’t leave it. For you, your shops and experiments and all the other things you do are your place. If a child comes, you’re an honorable man and of means, so I’ve no doubt you’ll be generous in providing for it.”

  So, I guess I’m the rich sperm donor. It wasn’t a score for his ego, but he could see the rationale from this culture’s point of view.

  Bronwyn crossed her arms. “Although we share beds for now, I assume it will end. Is that what you’re telling me, that you wish the bedding to end?”

  “No.” Maybe. “I was just concerned about you and the possibility of a child.”

  “It seems this is the only way I’ll have a child, since marriage isn’t likely.”

  “Haven’t there been men interested in you, and you in them?”

  “Very few. Those who wanted to marry me either I wouldn’t have or they were mainly interested in getting control of the farm.”

  “How did you first meet your husband?”

  “We grew up on neighboring farms. His family had three boys and mine were three girls. There were few other farms in the area at that time. My sisters and I grew up with those three boys, the only other children we’d see for months at a time. One of the boys, Cynwin, I wanted to marry, but my sister Dellia got a commitment from him first.” Bronwyn laughed. “If I didn’t love Dellia so dearly, I’d have hated her. The next son was Murdrew. He was my second choice and, truth be told, just as reliable as his older brother. So I married him.”

  “Did the other son also marry your other sister?”

  “No. He died in a horse fall while taking part in a search for Eywellese intruders in northern Keelan. My other sister married and lives near Caernford, which is just as well, since I could never stand her. Dellia and Cynwin live a mile from here. When our parents died, the land was divided among their three daughters. Luvolia sold her section without even asking whether Dellia and I could somehow buy it—the bitch. Dellia and Cynwin have three children already.” The last words were wistful. “I love visiting them and the children, but every time I see them, I’m reminded of being childless.”

  Yozef thought for a moment, then said, “It’s not just you who has this problem. It seems to be an issue throughout Keelan Province and maybe all of Caedellium.”

  Bronwyn nodded sadly. Neither spoke for several minutes, each in a private world. Yozef mulled over Bronwyn’s dilemma, forgetting for a moment his relationship with her, when a stray thought coalesced in his mind.

  “Looking at it from the perspective of the entire island, and given the trends, there may be one obvious solution, although a difficult one. If there are too many women for the number of men, some men could have more than one wife.”

  Bronwyn shifted uncomfortably in her chair. “I’ve heard of that happening elsewhere, but what does the Word say?”

  “As explained to me, the Word doesn’t forbid it but demands husband and wife treat each other with love and respect, and of course, the primary responsibility is to care for children. Such marriages don’t seem to happen often here in Keelan, though supposedly it’s a more common practice
in other provinces.”

  Bronwyn shook her head and had a sour expression. “What woman wants to share a house and a husband with another woman? I certainly would never agree to that.”

  “I didn’t say it was a good solution, just a possible one. Back to ourselves, and just to help me be sure I understand everything, our bedding will continue as long as we both want it. If a child results, you’ll raise the child, and I’ll provide support, but we don’t expect a long-term relationship between the two of us?”

  “Of course, that’s understood.” She stood up and moved to the stove. “I believe the stew is ready, so we can eat,” she said matter-of-factly.

  So much for a big dramatic scene. And how about the nice weather today? It made for comfortable fence mending and manure shoveling.

  But a child? He hadn’t been sold on Julie and he having one so soon, and now this. He was confused. Maybe nothing would happen. She had been married several years and had only gotten pregnant once, so it might not happen with him.

  End of the Affair

  They continued as before and never spoke about the topic again, but during the next five sixdays, the nights they spent together decreased from four nights a sixday to three, then two, and finally Yozef arrived at the farm after they hadn’t seen each other for a complete sixday. A cart hitched to two horses was tied to the front rail. As he rode up, Bronwyn came out the house to meet him.

  Her face was serene. “Please come inside, Yozef, I have something to tell you and some people for you to meet.” She took his hand and led him inside. A man and a woman about Bronwyn’s age sat in the main room. The woman looked like a chunkier version of Bronwyn.

  “Yozef, this is my sister Dellia and her husband, Cynwin. As I told you, they live nearby.”

  Yozef nodded, said a greeting to them both, and clasped an offered forearm with Cynwin.

  The four of them sat in a circle, Bronwyn opposite Yozef, Dellia and Cynwin flanking Bronwyn. His fleeting thought was that he faced a threesome.

  “Yozef, I thought about what you said about marriages with more than one wife. At first, the idea seemed impossible, but the more I thought, the less impossible it seemed. Then, three days ago I went to my sister, and we talked.”

  Dellia’s and Bronwyn’s hands reached out to each other as if magnetized. Dellia smiled softly at her sister.

  “Dellia spoke with Cynwin, and the three of us have agreed with what you said. We are to be married. Dellia, Cynwin, and me.”

  Dellia spoke for the first time. “Bronwyn and I have always loved each other dearly, even as young children. As happy as I’ve been married to Cynwin, I’ve missed her every day. When Bronwyn spoke to me about this, it seemed the right thing to do.”

  Cynwin reached from the other side of Bronwyn and took her other hand. “Two wives are not something I ever thought of. Certainly not with a wife as good as Dellia, but we both love Bronwyn. And Dellia’s right, the more the three of us talked about this, the more natural it seemed. Dellia will have her sister with her. There will be more children and more parents to raise them. There’s also the farms. Both ours and Bronwyn’s are good farms, and by joining them together, it’ll be easier to tend the sum than both by themselves.”

  From their body language, Yozef had already suspected what he had just been told. He sat quiet and ambivalent, though relieved that the inevitable end to the affair was easy for him and good for Bronwyn.

  “Yozef,” said Bronwyn, “there’s something else. I’m with child. I suspected as much the last two sixdays when my time passed and I didn’t have the bleeding. Now there’re other signs, so I’m sure.”

  Yozef sat immobile, his mind churning over the possible having become real. What did he feel? What should he be saying?

  “We’ll raise the child in our new family, and it will have many brothers and sisters. It’ll also have four parents, since we hope you’ll always be part of the child’s family and our friend.”

  They talked for another hour, mainly about the anticipation of the three, how Yozef would see the child as often as he liked, and Yozef pretending to take all of this in stride, while part of him watched the four of them like a disembodied observer. He remembered little of what he said in that hour, but whatever it was, the other three took it well. When he left to return to Abersford, a hundred yards from the house he turned from his saddle to look back. Three figures stood on the porch, arm in arm and waving. He waved and urged Seabiscuit into a grove of elms, as the farm disappeared from view. The road was dark most of the way, with enough light from the larger moon and the stars to let him and Seabiscuit stay on the road. There was little wind, all wildlife had settled in for the night, and everything was quiet, except for hooves on the dirt road. It took an hour and a half to get back to his house in Abersford. It was the loneliest hour and a half of his life.

  Chapter 29: Could Be Worse

  Avoiding Deja Vu

  Yozef lapsed into a funk. He had thought the relationship with Bronwyn was only physical, but once it ended, emotional ties lingered.

  No one asked, but his increased presence and the absence of Bronwyn told everyone he was once again solitary. As a palliative, he plunged with a vengeance back into projects delayed by the time diverted on the affair. Within a month, he slipped back into his life before Bronwyn. He spent most days in his shops, attended lectures at St. Sidryn’s, had talks and walks with Cadwulf, Sistian, Diera, and others at the abbey complex, drank beers with Carnigan and Filtin at the Snarling Graeko, and, to his initial consternation, deflected overtures from more widows.

  Though his months with Bronwyn had awakened dormant physiologies, he was ambivalent about taking advantage of the obvious interest of three different Abersford widows. Ironically, the urge to go slow was reinforced by a failure to follow through with this reticence. Buna Keller was a widow and the owner of a clothing shop in Abersford that made pants, shirts, and a coat more to Yozef’s liking than the local styles. He would stand as the shop owner took his measurements. One such visit was for a formal suit of clothing, appropriate for meetings with the more prosperous merchants and higher-level officials.

  Keller and her assistants had measured him in the past and kept records, but on this visit she insisted more accurate and newer measurements were needed, which should best be done in the back room. On this particular day, it had been two months since he and Bronwyn had last bedded. The seamstress wore a dress with bare shoulders and a plunging neckline. She was all business, taking the measurements from waist up, but when she moved to lower regions, her hands dallied and casually contacted parts that, to his embarrassment, reacted. Instead of her being offended, he erroneously thought she hadn’t noticed or ignored his condition. A subsequent invitation arrived by letter from Buna to attend a small dinner gathering of several prominent tradesmen, shop owners, and their wives. It was his first social occasion with most of the guests, and he enjoyed the business-oriented conversation as an opportunity to search for other potential enterprises. In spite of his hesitancy in becoming involved again so soon, the next morning he awoke in bed next to Buna. He remembered all of the details of how he’d ended up there and what had occurred. What he couldn’t remember was what had happened to his resolve after the third glass of wine.

  Indecisive about getting involved again so soon, by default Yozef found himself at Buna’s house the next two nights. Relief came when he found her not interested in a child; she was past childbearing age and had two grown children. What she did have was a libido. Straightforward sex was simple, except he didn’t like her. She could be abrasive, they were a personality mismatch, and she had more hair than Yozef—and not just on her head. He was relieved when on the last morning, she told him not to come to her house again. She found him too different from Caedellium men. Although he was curious about the difference, he wasn’t curious enough to risk losing a quick exit. From that point, Yozef swore to himself, yet again, to keep his nether parts under better control.

  Paper


  The episode with Buna had been short enough not to impact his focus on new projects. The ether, ethanol, and soap enterprises required little ongoing input from him. He knew he fussed, and although his staff didn’t say it, their opinions were obvious: Please go away and let us do our jobs.

  He needed new projects. The first new idea came to him while strolling among the village shops, and he came upon a stall selling writing paper. A customer could buy single sheets or tied packets of twenty, either a light-yellowish-brown rough texture or a smoother, whiter paper. The former was the only paper made in Abersford, while whiter, more expensive paper came from a larger papermaker in Caernford, the Keelan capitol. Yozef knew the basic procedure for making paper. Almost anything containing fibers would work, including cotton, cloth, straw, wood, and flax. The material was chopped as small as possible, then suspended in water and a screen passed through the mixture to catch pieces and fibers on the screen. Once dried, a single sheet of paper was peeled away and could be cut to different sizes and written on. Those were the basics, as confirmed to Yozef by Ser Myrfild, the man manning the paper stall, who also happened to be the Abersford paper maker. Yozef never learned his first name.

  Over beers that evening, Yozef proposed new types of papers and Myrfild alternated telling him why it wouldn’t work and being enthused about novel ideas and products. By the end of the evening, they agreed to form the Abersford Paper Factory. Novel products included whiter papers than yet produced on Caedellium, colored papers, and poster-board for announcements. All found limited markets—enough to justify continued production, steady incomes, and market interest in other provinces. However, the jackpot products had nothing to do with literacy or communication and were afterthoughts from Yozef. While Myrfild was initially dubious that anyone would actually pay hard-earned coinage for such products, Yozef insisted, later annoyingly proud of himself for the brainstorms. Myrfild was amazed when, within two sixdays, orders poured in for toilet paper and sanitary napkins. The toilet paper immediately started taking the place of the customary moss or, when necessary, leaves, grass, old rags, hands, or nothing. The market was obvious—every human on Caedellium had bowel movements. Use of the new option started slowly, then spread to other provinces within a month.

 

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