Souls of Aredyrah 3 - The Taking of the Dawn

by Tracy A. Akers

  Dayn sighed. “Yes, auntie,” he said. “The tables are finished, and the stage and the benches.”

  “And the barn’s cleaned?” Morna asked.

  “Yes, Mother. Clean as it’s going to get.”

  “And the circle of stones?” Vania added.

  “Yes…assembled.” Dayn moved to the window and gazed out toward the plenum location. It was highlighted by a wide circle of stones that seemed to lord over the hillside. The circle was where the plenum itself would take place, and the space within it was considered sacred for the duration of the Gathering. The stones were not large, not like those that made up the more ancient circles of Kirador, but they had been difficult to erect nonetheless. Within the circle, Dayn and Eyan had built a stage, and at the center of the circle they had piled wood for the great bonfire that would be lit after the plenum. The pile only awaited the touch of the torch that would signal the conclusion of business and the commencement of festivities. But Dayn wasn’t sure there would be much to celebrate.

  “And the wood for the—” Morna began.

  “Yes,” Dayn said with annoyance. “The tables—the seats—the barn—the circle—the stage—the benches—the wood for the bonfire—logs and kindling for the campfires. Anything else?”

  “You don’t have to snap,” Morna said. “It’s not like the rest of us haven’t been working day and night to get things done.”

  “Well what’s Alicine been doing?” Dayn said. “Besides fretting about what she’s going to wear, I mean.”

  “She’s been gatherin’ mushrooms and berries,” Vania offered, “and helpin’ your mother and me with the cookin’. Now don’t ye go suggestin’ your sister’s not been doin’ her part.”

  “She made some lovely decorations for the barn, too,” Morna said.

  Dayn rolled his eyes.

  Vania gazed toward the open front door. Though winter would soon be approaching, the weather today was almost spring-like, and she had thrown open every portal in the house to welcome it in. She drew a deep breath. “I hope Eyan comes home with a buck this time,” she said. “You boys’ve brought us back plenty o’ rabbits, bless your hearts, but a buck would make a fine impression on the clans. There haven’t been many around these parts lately.”

  “Why didn’t you go hunting with Eyan today?” Morna asked Dayn.

  “I don’t know,” he mumbled. “Didn’t feel like it I guess.”

  “Well, maybe next time,” she said.

  Dayn turned toward the doorway. “I think I’ll go find Alicine.”

  “You’ll find her in the barn, dear. She’s adding the final touches to the dance floor.”

  Dayn’s insides rankled. The dances were always the part he hated most. It wasn’t that he didn’t like dancing, though he’d never actually done much of it. It wasn’t even the issue of girls; his heart had always belonged to Falyn, so the others didn’t matter. But still, that hadn’t kept him from feeling even more like an outcast when he was the only boy in the room not doing it.

  He exited the house and headed for the barn. When he arrived, he spotted Alicine perched atop a ladder, hammering colorful strips of cloth along a beam. In addition to the numerous streamers she had already hung, the room was dotted with crocks containing bouquets of wildflowers and dried flora. Most of the flowers from the meadows had already faded with the changing season, but the purples and golds of the grasses she’d gathered gave the arrangements a nice earthy touch.

  “Looks good,” Dayn said, but his tone held little enthusiasm.

  Alicine jerked with a start, then twisted around to face him. “You scared me half to death,” she said. She scrambled down the ladder and set the hammer aside. Smiling, she ran her eyes over the interior of the barn. “You like it?”

  “I said I did, didn’t I,” Dayn said.

  Alicine looked at him with skepticism. “You are coming to the dance, aren’t you?”

  Dayn shrugged. “Maybe.”

  “This’ll be Eyan’s first dance, Dayn. It would be nice if you came to at least give him some advice.”

  Dayn forced a laugh. “Like I know anything.”

  Alicine scowled. “Fine. You can both sit off to the side together and feel sorry for yourselves.” She turned and grabbed up another handful of streamers, then surveyed the beams.

  “I think you have plenty up already,” Dayn said. “Add much more color and no one will get any sleep.”

  “Like anyone will get any sleep anyway,” Alicine said with a grin.

  “No, I suppose not.”

  Dayn gazed around the room. The barn, though primarily decorated for the main dance, would also accommodate the less-official party expected to follow. Most families had packed their own tents and bedding, and eventually crept back to them and the wagons that had brought them. But one group was known to linger at the dances well into dawn: the pre-adults. Of all the clan members, they seemed to require the least amount of sleep and the most amount of socializing, and generally conducted celebrations of their own after everyone else had retired for the night. Although they would be well outside the earshot of their parents, the barn doors would be kept strictly open, and there would be plenty of Elders on hand to keep young virtues intact.

  But Dayn had no interest in any party; he was mainly interested in the bed he would be falling into early. He had never felt comfortable around people his own age, at least not in Kirador; the events of past Gatherings had pretty much sealed that sentiment. Regardless, he had no desire to make new friends. It would be good for Eyan, he supposed, but as for himself, the only friends he wanted were back in Tearia.

  Alicine saw things differently, of course. She’d already made it clear that her heart belonged in Kirador, and though a part of it still remained with Reiv, she could not have Reiv and Kirador both. As for Dayn, the approaching party gave him a glimmer of hope, at least. If Alicine met a candidate for future husband, then Dayn could feel assured that there would be someone to take care of her, and maybe even Mother. And if Alicine were to meet that person tonight, Dayn could return to Tearia sooner than expected, and without the guilt of having left his mother and sister behind.

  “So have you decided what you’re going to wear?” he asked. Perhaps if he turned the conversation toward his sister’s social interests, and away from his lack of them, he could aim her in the desired direction.

  Alicine’s face lit up. “Yes, I took one of my old dresses, the faded brown one, you know, the one I wore to the Harvest Festival a couple of years back, and removed the lace from the collar and sleeves. I dyed the lace yellow, it was already ivory anyway, and added it to the bodice of the blue dress, you know, the one with the red braiding at the hem. Then I—”

  Dayn’s mind drifted.

  “—and if I add the same color of red to my hair,” Alicine babbled on, “—I think Mother has some ribbon that will match—at least I hope she does because if she doesn’t it just won’t have the same effect…anyway, then it will look really nice I think.”

  Alicine grew silent.

  “Sounds…uh…good,” Dayn said, then hastily added, “I’m sure you’ll be the prettiest girl here.”

  Alicine eyed him suspiciously. Dayn laughed. “I guess it doesn’t matter what I say, right? But the other boys will tell you soon enough I think.”

  Alicine blushed, but Dayn knew from her smile that his comment had pleased her.

  “So what are you wearing?” she asked.

  “Me? What I’ve got on, I suppose.”

  Alicine gasped.

  Dayn looked down at himself. “What’s wrong with it? It’s clean isn’t it?”

  Eyan strolled into the barn, a passel of rabbits slung over his shoulder. He halted and gawked at the room. “What’d ye do?”

  “Decorated it, what else?” Alicine said. “The dance will be in here and I wanted it to look nice.”

  Eyan looked at Dayn.

  “Girls like to do this sort of thing, Eyan,” Dayn said.

  “Oh,”
Eyan replied.

  “Dayn and I were just discussing what we’re going to wear to the dance,” Alicine said. “What are you planning to wear, Eyan?”

  “Uh…I…”

  “Don’t be so nosey, Alicine,” Dayn said. “He wants what he wears to be a surprise, don’t you Eyan?” He stared into Eyan’s eyes, attempting to convey the message that it would be wise to just follow along.

  “Oh…aye…I…uh…guess so,” Eyan said, staring back at him.

  Alicine glanced between the two of them. “You’re neither of you fooling me with your act.” She turned to Eyan. “You should talk to your mother. She’ll help you pick out an outfit.” With that she turned and left the barn, clearly irritated at the amusement plastering the boys’ faces.

  Dayn burst into laughter. Eyan joined in.

  “Do we really have to wear somethin’ special?” Eyan finally asked. “I don’t think I have anythin’. I mean, it’s not like I’ve been anywhere.”

  Before Dayn could respond, the thud of wagon wheels and the clank of harnesses redirected his attention. He sprinted to the barn door and looked toward the road leading to the house. In the distance, the first clan family could be seen rumbling over the hill. “Get to the house, Eyan,” he said.

  “I—I have to clean the rabbits, first,” Eyan replied. But his eyes were fully focused on the road.

  “I’ll take care of the rabbits,” Dayn said. “You go on to the house and tell your mother the first guests have arrived.”

  Eyan nodded and handed him the rabbits. He headed out the door and hustled to the house.

  Dayn set the rabbits aside and walked out to greet the wagon now pulling into the yard. He was relieved to see that it was his Uncle Nort, but he did not recognize the attractive young woman sitting next to him, nor the little black-haired boy nestled between them. Nort, Haskel’s older brother, had never married. He was a hard-working man, and a handsome one too, but he’d never shown much interest in women, and even less in the ritual of marriage.

  Dayn raised his hand hesitantly, not sure how his uncle, or the woman or the boy, would react. Nort jumped from the wagon and rushed toward him. Dayn tensed, recalling the reception he had initially received from Haskel. But to his relief, Nort grabbed him in a bear-hug of affection.

  “God, boy,” Nort said, his voice cracking, “we were so worried.” He leaned back and placed his hands on Dayn’s shoulders, looking him up and down. His eyes brimmed as he grabbed Dayn in another embrace.

  “Are ye well?” Nort asked at last. “And your sister? How does she fare?”

  “We’re well, uncle,” Dayn said. “And you?”

  Nort smiled, then turned toward the woman and boy who now stood beside the wagon. He gestured for them to approach. “Come, Seela. You, too, Ben.”

  They approached reluctantly.

  “Ah, now,” Nort said to them gently. “I told ye of my young nephew Dayn, did I not?” He laughed. “Ye didn’t forget already did ye?”

  The woman smiled shyly, while the boy, no more than five years of age, clung to her skirts. Seela pried the child from her side, then leaned down and whispered into his ear. The boy glanced up at Dayn, then down at his own feet. Then he and his mother walked toward him.

  The two of them stopped, and Ben moved his gaze up Dayn’s towering frame. “My mother says I’m not to be scared,” he said.

  Dayn squatted before him. “But you’re afraid of me anyway?”

  The boy nodded.

  “Well, Ben. I’m just a boy, like you. Only older.” He winked.

  “You’re not like me,” the boy said. “You’re different.”

  “And different is bad?” Dayn asked.

  Ben cocked his head. “I don’t know.”

  “Fair enough,” Dayn said. He rose from his stooped position. “Well, Ben, I’m happy to meet you, and you too Seela.” Dayn looked at Nort, his eyes conveying the question that courtesy would not allow him to speak.

  “Ben’s my son,” Nort said proudly.

  Dayn smiled toward Seela. “Your wife then.”

  “No. Not wife,” Nort said, but strangely there was no hint of hesitation or shame in his voice.

  For a moment Dayn felt judgment rush to his breast. Nort had fathered a child out of wedlock? And Seela—did she actually live with the man? If that were the case, Eyan would not be the only person facing the clans tonight.

  Dayn muttered with embarrassment. “Uncle, I’m sorry…I mean…”

  “Don’t mask your words on my account,” Nort said. “Ben’s a child of my heart, not my blood. As for Seela, I love her and see no sin in sharin’ my life with her, eh?”

  “No, I…” At that moment Dayn realized he saw no sin in it at all, just as he saw no sin in his own desire for Falyn. It was only the voices of others that had invited judgment in. He smiled and shook his head. “No. I see no sin in it.”

  Nort grinned. “I thought not,” he said. “Now then, where shall I park the wagon?”

  Dayn pointed and directed him to the side of the house. Nort and Seela would be staying near the family residence, of course, while the rest of the guests would be directed to a field past the barn. The field was a good distance from the circle of stones and the bonfire that would eventually roar within it. It would not do well for the guests to sleep on pallets of soot, so Dayn and Eyan had planned the encampment to insure both safety and comfort.

  Nort climbed into the wagon and flicked the reins, while Dayn led Seela and Ben toward the house. Vania rushed through the open front door and ran across the yard toward them. Squealing with excitement, she threw her arms around Seela.

  “Goodness, I’m so happy to see ye. Ben, my how ye’ve grown!” Vania ruffled his thick black hair. She smiled at Seela. “And when’s the little one due?”

  “Late spring,” Seela said, splaying her fingers across her still-flat belly.

  Dayn again felt judgment rear its head, but he forced it down. Had he actually expected Nort to share his home with the woman he loved, but not his bed? For a moment, Dayn could not help but picture the scene, sending envy to his thoughts as well. But then the image shifted to Falyn, and hope joined the fray. If the clans accepted Nort’s and Seela’s arrangement, and the conception of a child outside of wedlock, then surely they would accept Falyn, regardless of the fact that she was not part of the clan and that her father was now their enemy.

  The conversation between Seela and Vania went quiet as Seela drew a sharp intake of breath. All heads turned toward the doorway of the house where Eyan was standing.

  “My son, Seela,” Vania said gently. “That’s my Eyan.”

  “Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to react like that,” Seela said, flustered. “I knew we were to meet him, but well, it’s just, the stories I’ve heard.” Her cheeks turned red.

  “I understand, dear,” Vania said. “I’m sure there’ll be a variety of reactions to him in the next few days, so don’t feel bad about yours. Shall I introduce ye?”

  “Aye, of course. Come, Ben,” Seela said, and grabbed his hand in hers.

  Vania led Seela and Ben to the porch, but Dayn turned back toward the barn. He dreaded the look that would surely come to their faces when they realized the color of Eyan’s eyes. Dayn had seen the look in regard to his own eyes often enough, but as hard as it had always been for him, he hated the thought of it being directed to Eyan even more. He felt overwhelming pity for his cousin, realizing that while Seela had gasped at the sight of him, others in the clan would react far worse.

  At that moment Dayn decided to look after Eyan, even if it meant going to the dance and sitting against the wall with him. He groaned. This was surely going to be the most miserable night of his life.

  Back to ToC

  Chapter 22: Circle of Stones

  The hill sloping upward from the barn was dotted with wagons and the contrasting costumes of the four visiting clans. Those dressed in blue were from the Crests, a northwestern region that boasted mossy cliffs and magnifice
nt waterfalls. Shades of sienna mingled amongst them; the Sandright clan had recently migrated to Crest territory when the anger of the mountain had sent poison to their wells. The Crests had welcomed the Sandrights into their fold. No doubt their colors would one day merge as one. Those dressed in green were the Aeries, Dayn’s clan. And those in bold plaids of red and brown were the Basyls. Leathers and wools, tunics and trews, skirts and vests—all forms of costume could be seen representing the clans and the regions from which they haled. But though their clothing made a fine show of diversity, in truth there was little to be found amongst them. All had dark hair and eyes. And all clung to a common fear that no one dared dispute.

  Chatter rose and fell as families set up their campsites, greeted other clan members, and scolded children running willy-nilly between the rigs. Vania watched from the porch rail, craning her neck to see beyond that which her abbreviated stature would allow. But her gaze was not on the hillside or the campsites; it was focused on the road and the line of wagons still making their way toward them.

  “What are we goin’ to do with ‘em all?” she said, wringing her hands. “I didn’t expect so many.”

  “Everything will be fine,” Morna said. “You’ll see. There’s plenty of space for them to camp. Dayn and Eyan set up the area just fine, didn’t you boys?”

  “Of course we did,” Dayn said from the doorway at their backs.

  Eyan, peering over Dayn’s shoulder, remained silent, but his breath quickened against Dayn’s neck as he watched the wagon train that was clanking toward them.

  “We’ve not near enough to feed ‘em all,” Vania said. “What’ll we do if—”

  “Now don’t you fret,” Morna said. “Goodness, they don’t expect you to feed them the entire time. They always bring plenty of supplies.” She laughed. “Believe me, Vania, no one goes hungry at a Gathering.”

  “I s’pose,” Vania said. “Guess I haven’t been to enough of ‘em to know. But it just doesn’t seem natural, me not bein' responsible for feedin’ ‘em.”