Iceblade

by Zenka Wistram

  We then walked around the camp, nearly as large in girth as Berowalt had been, but packed much more densely with people. There were shelters of all types and sizes from lean-tos to Renata's tent, powder blue canvas shaped like a bell with lilac dagged trim. I was shown two long-houses, traditionally made from woven wattle panels lashed onto poles thrust into the ground and bound together, then covered in mud daub. Here they were made partly from bark, partly from hides, partly from blankets, with rock ringed fire pits in the middle. Each long-house held many people, and most of the children stayed in these so they could have the company of each other. The two new mothers also stayed in one of these, where, in their own mothers' absence, they could have the help and care of other women.

  I took time to snuggle the little babies, and felt my womb pinch. For so many years I had longed for one of my own; a small, soft, sweet-smelling newborn who would grow within my love and sheltering until he or she was an adult and ready for his own life. Here I stood as empty and unused as if I did not even have the equipment to bear a child. I thought of Iceblade against my will, of what he offered me – the ultimate result being my womb filled with his child, a tiny black-haired violet-eyed baby of my own. Trembling, I forced my enemy's image and the heady promises our bodies made to each other from my thoughts.

  Aside from the long-houses, most of the shelters were too small to have a fire ring inside. These shelters were kept warm by chunks of soapstone, which were heated in the campfires in between the shelters and brought inside the shelter as needed. Soapstone held heat well and a goodly chunk would give off a gentle heat that lasted the night.

  At the far western end of the camp, facing east, was a makeshift altar to the Goddess, made of piled stones. Some of the stones had been partially chipped away to make them look more like rabbits or bears, and there was a gold, bejeweled chalice set on the surface of the altar. Next to the altar was a burning pit with the ceremonial fire, everyone had taken turns tending it. From the burning pit came the smell of burnt food, as the offering of a meal had been made while we were at breakfast. Hanging from the tree limbs around the altar were bits of red cloth, strings of red beads, and now garlands of flowers as well.

  It was late afternoon by the time everyone with the wish to had come forward to greet their Goddess' Chosen and I had at last seen the whole camp. Nefen and Samar ushered me back to the tent for a quick, light meal. There was to be a feast later, to celebrate my arrival and the wedding of Declan and Renata, so a light meal was more than enough for the time being. Two new guards stood at the door of the tent, saluting me as I entered. I nodded to them gravely. They were shining and proud of their new station, of serving their Goddess and Her Chosen.

  More gifts had been pushed into the tent while I had been greeting the people and seeing the camp. Books, wall hangings, small carvings of the creatures most precious to the Goddess, the bear and the rabbit. There were also three unmatching silver goblets and a set of four tankards adorned with homely scenes – hunters, farmers, mothers and fathers. Furs and pieces of leather, a fine pair of white deerskin boots, and an exquisite embroidered veil meant to be worn over the hair made up the clothes offered. A full set of twelve plates covered in gold and set with lapis and pearl were among the most precious items, along with rings and necklaces of precious and semi precious stones. Among the simplest was a child's cloth doll, naked and dirty, so loved that parts of her painted face had rubbed off. I placed the doll on my bed as if it were a real child needing a safe haven, moved to tears by its presence.

  "What are we to do with all these things?" I whispered to Selas.

  He snorted. "Not we, you. You may not give them back, either."

  "But I don't need these!" I said, holding up a handful of jewelry.

  "You may not need to receive it, but these people need to give it. Find a place to keep it all for the time being, and use it when you can, so they can see you and know their gifts are appreciated."

  I nodded. It was simple enough to understand the need to give, of these homeless and lost to give with love to someone who brought them hope.

  I placed the jewelry in a carved wooden box and put the box inside my trunk. The dishes I set on a half log side table near the eating area of the tent. Tugging off my dirty boots, I tossed them beside my bed and pulled on the white deerskin boots. Samar unbraided my hair and pinned the veil over the loose waves that resulted from the braid, the veil covered nearly the full length of hair. She followed up by digging in the carved box and adorning me with several pieces of jewelry.

  Nefen nodded approvingly. "You look lovely, like the Chosen should," he said, and I looked at him in surprise. I couldn't help seeing in his thoughts the way he viewed me.

  Where I saw plain brown eyes and hair, he saw dark entrancing eyes heavy with mystery and shiny, silky hair. I saw a serviceable and sturdy, tall woman, he saw a small waist, smooth throat, long legs and a pretty face. Nothing I saw in my physical self was reflected in his eyes. He saw beauty where I could find none, a thought of beauty that I thought only Iceblade would ever – could ever possibly – see. I instinctively shook my head at Nefen's image of me. It was all wrong.

  My shock must have shown on my face, because Selas snickered. Nefen reddened a bit and smiled at me, and I realized he'd meant for me to see his thoughts. He had been waiting for me to notice his feelings before now, but I hadn't even thought to look.

  "It must be time soon for the wedding," I muttered. "I should go out to the meeting area." And I fled like a young girl the first time the boy who used to pull her braids steals a kiss. The others hurried to follow so I wouldn't lose my honor guard, and I immediately felt bad for fleeing.

  I had wondered in despair if a good man, a kind and true man, would ever feel anything for me the way Iceblade did, even if Iceblade's feeling was simply a product of our situation. Now that I could sense something similar in just such a good man, I felt panicked. I had nothing to offer him. Once, before the crows army, I had wished deeply for a man who was not ugly to care for me. Or, if he was ugly, that he be gentle and honest. Nefen, gentle and honest, was far from ugly. Any of the young women I'd once known would have swooned over him, dropping handkerchiefs and hints. In all honesty, I would have swooned too, though without the hankies or hints, and probably only once I was by myself in my cottage. Then, he'd never have noticed me, and now, I couldn't be for him.

  A massive bent willow chair had been placed at the northern end of the meeting place, beneath the red-leafed rowan tree, decorated with so many spring flowers it looked upholstered with gaily patterned brocade. A fat red silk cushion lay upon the seat. Next to this chair stood a smaller chair with a somewhat flatter cushion, obviously intended for Selas. We took our places, me in the big chair and Selas in the other, Nefen and Samar standing erectly beside and slightly behind us.

  "This could get very wearing," I said in an undertone to Samar, who had taken the position nearest me.

  I see, she signed with a humorous look. Soft warm loved.

  "I don't want to put on airs or make myself out to be more than I really am."

  I don't see it, she reassured me, rolling her eyes expressively. Stop baby-crying.

  "Sassy honor guard," I laughed. "Don't you two want chairs as well? Aren't your legs tired?"

  "No." Nefen gave me a pained look. "We are your protectors. We stand here and protect you, until your other protectors take their turn." I sighed.

  "Just deal with life as it is and get on with it already," Selas snapped. "When we get the others all trained up, I'll choose you more people for your honor guard, and your friends can sit with you."

  "Just make it soon," I pleaded. "All this bowing and guarding and gifting is making me feel false and tense. At least I'd like the people who've traveled so far with me as equals to be able to act like my equals."

  "That is a unique and stupid way of looking at our roles, Lady," Selas said. "You and I began this journey together, and even then I was there to protect you. You ar
e no longer Ada the picker of lant-root, you are now Galiena's Hand. And if it makes you feel better, we aren't protecting Ada the field girl, but the Chosen, the mantle that has landed upon your shoulders."

  You baby, Samar signed, her shoulders heaving in a noiseless laugh. Do your part so we can do ours.

  A wedding canopy had been erected in the middle of the clearing, and soon we heard the rejoicing music of a lute and pipes as the wedding parade approached the meeting place. I walked down to take my place under the wedding canopy, my honor guard right behind me. Selas came to stand off to the side.

  The two lovers walked into the meeting place holding hands. Normally the bride would be walking in with her mother and the groom with his father. In a ceremonial way, this was to indicate that the parents of the bridal couple had done their duty instructing their offspring on the joys, pains, and duties of being married, doubly important if either of the bridal couple were virgins. Generally only noble weddings involved a virgin, the bride, so the lineage of the first child would be undoubted. Human nature being what it was, doubts about some newborns remained.

  Renata wore a garland of white and yellow flowers in her hair and a sheer, silken cloth of red to cover her hair and disguise its length. A noble bride traditionally grew her hair her entire life, and wore its length loose on her wedding day, Renata had lost her locks in the destruction of her home. She and her groom both wore the traditional red wedding tabards over their clothes, the groom's tabard coming only to the middle of his thighs, the same length as the serviceable brown tunic he wore. In a noble wedding, such as Renata's first wedding would have been, the tabards would be embroidered with family crests, symbols of honor won in battle or of the main products or landmarks of the family land; also decorated with precious stones and furs. For a proper wedding between the people I had known, the red tabards were embroidered or painted with traditional blessings or floral patterns. In either case the tabards were likely handed down for generations. Here in Reckonwood, the tabards were obviously cut from mismatched pieces of whatever red cloth was to be had, and decorated only by a fringe of purposely frayed cloth. Still, those simple tabards were a jubilant sight to those of us who had seen so little reason for celebration this winter.

  The eyes of the bridal couple held more than just the fertile joy of a new wedding, there was also sorrowful remembrance and a certain steely strength. My smile of delight was also tinged with a quiet and hollowing sadness.

  The rest of the wedding parade gathered around, surrounding the wedding canopy. An elder, Inna, who had spent lunchtime instructing me on how to do this ceremony adequately for the purpose, handed me the red silken cord required, and I stepped closer to the couple. They reached out unbidden to hold hands together, and I wrapped the cord gently around their joined and trembling hands.

  "This cord holds the two of you together only because you both allow it," I said. "But your vows will make this cord stronger than any steel, more sure than any stone fortress, softer and more vibrant than the loveliest bloom. This cord symbolizes the bond between you, a bond you choose to undertake this day for all days to come. Together you must make the choice every day to carry this bond all the days you may share, as long as you live. You must fight for it, work for it, and hold it carefully with tenderness and joy. If you do this, the bond symbolized by this simple cord will last and comfort you forever. What are the vows you make to each other?"

  Declan spoke first, holding his bride's hand tightly, pale but unafraid, seeing only the woman before him, staring into her eyes as if the whole universe could be found there.

  "Renata, I have loved you for what seems to be my whole life – even those times I did not know you, my love was there. I swear to you that I will love you and hold you forever, that I will be there whenever you need me, that I will never fail you and the great honor you've given me in giving me your heart. I promise that there will never be any other woman in my eyes who could come before you, that I will remain faithful to you in word, in deed, in all of my spirit, for as long as I live. Your happiness is more important to me than my own, your life more precious. I swear this to you from this moment forth."

  Renata wept openly, her smile beaming, her groom the only being in her world. It took her a couple of tries to start her vows, and they both laughed. Gathering herself together, she began.

  "I swear to you, Declan, my heart, that I will comfort and love you as long as you live, that I will be honest and affectionate with you, that my first thought will always be of you. You have seen me through the fire, you have loved me at my ugliest, you eased my grief and brought me a joy I never thought to look for. If I could have wished for you and made you myself, I could not find you more perfect, more worthy of my love. I promise to love you and only you, every day that we both live. I love you."

  "You are wed," I told them quietly, my voice wavering. "May no one intend harm to this bond the Goddess has blessed."

  Declan bent, sweeping his wife into his arms and kissing her. She wrapped her free hand around his neck and kissed him back, joy radiating from them and washing over those gathered to witness.

  A cheer rose from the crowd. The newlyweds separated and bowed to me, then to their friends. I carefully unbound the red cord from their hands, later a piece would be cut for each to carry with them if they chose, as some did, to keep a visible reminder of this day and their bond. The crowd moved forward as one and the newlyweds were carried off to their shelter, Renata's pale-colored bell-shaped tent, to be undressed and pushed into their bed. Once their friends had seen this done, everyone but the two of them would come back to the clearing, and the feasting and dancing would begin.

  Selas came to stand behind me. "You didn't do all that bad," he said grudgingly. "Not a very traditional speech though. Vows neither." He scratched at his beard, an absent minded gesture I knew to be affected.

  "Tradition be damned," I said, smiling at him. "They have all they need."

  His only reply was the expected snort.

  Wyntan, Daltorn and Wyclif arrived back with their group just as the feasting began in earnest. Selas directed them to the lean-to where all the rest of the equipment had been stored. I came to help put things away and was stopped by a furtive glare from the old man. Instead, I supervised, holding my hands together at my waist as if I were the simple essence of tranquility and not actually chafing to help. The foraying group had brought back mostly shields, axes and swords, but there were also more pieces of leather armor. There was still not enough to properly outfit three hundred and fifty people, and I hadn't yet mentioned that more were coming.

  Now that I was here in the Wood, my presence would act as something of a beacon. Any survivors would strive to get here. My dreams in the past night had frequently held images of those survivors, and as I saw them, I urged them to come to me in the safety of Reckonwood.

  We returned to the feast. The tired foray group sat on the new green grass and were fed, and fed again. The lute player and pipe players started up, and people began to dance, soon the clearing was filled with music and laughter and once lively swirling colors. One of the elder men, Brannach, came to bow before me, holding up one hand with a grin on his face.

  I reached out and took his hand, and we whirled off into the crowd, somewhat slower than the younger dancers due to Brannach's sore and stiff old bones, but with no less feeling of celebration. We indulged in a peasant's dance – busy, with lots of spinning, each dancer holding a partner's hand. Some pairs evolved into long chains or rings of dancers.

  Brannach handed me off soon enough to a younger man, taking the hand of one of the elder ladies to be his next dancing partner. I was whirled around, our feet moving fast, and passed on from dancer to dancer. The veil in my hair loosened until I feared it would fall out and be ruined on the ground, so I took it out of my hair and tied it around my waist.

  I noticed Wyclif dancing with a handsome young man nearly exclusively, though sometimes they joined the chains or rings. His young ma
n was just taller than he was, with short blonde hair and freckles, perhaps in his early twenties. For a few moments, Wyclif danced with me, proud to be my dancing partner, before returning to his real interest.

  Wyntan stepped up and took my hand, and we whirled even faster. The young warrior was quick on his feet, nimble and devilish, but he could not out-dance me. We danced so deftly that others cleared us a spot.

  "Oh, that's enough," I cried out at last, laughing. "I cannot breathe!" Wyntan smirked his superiority, giving me a neat bow. He walked me to the edge of the dancers and saw me settled into my chair, trying to catch my breath. With a quick wink, he disappeared back into the dancing crowd. Samar followed him out, setting aside her weapon, obviously wondering if the younger brother could match her dexterity.

  Samar won this contest. She was so light on her feet she appeared to be able to dance on a single blade of grass without bending it. When she'd exhausted Wyntan, Daltorn took his place. He too soon fell aside, laughing, as another stepped up to take his place.

  It was sweet joy to see an open, delighted smile on Samar's usually sharply intent face. Though her laugh made no sound, it was clearly felt by all of her companions, who laughed with her even as she danced them breathless.