“What kind of talk?”
Rhiannon liked this blunt, assured young woman. “I’m an herbalist and a healer. My skills have always been respected by my people, if not a little feared. I’ve caught new babies and encouraged the little ones who didn’t want to face this world to come in gently. I’ve set bones, treated cuts, boils, and all manner of sores, as well as treating those aches and pains we don’t like to discuss, and I’m the person my village called upon to ease the final pain before passing. All this makes me different.”
Boudicca’s eyes shone. “No one likes weird folk.”
“Then, of course, Will and Tom are blacksmiths, or more correctly, they are alchemists.”
“I don’t know that word.”
“They heat and combine metal to make stronger metal.”
Boudicca dabbed at Rhiannon’s ankle from her bowl. “They let you go?”
“We ran away with only what we could carry. Not all the villagers agreed with the newcomers and their words of hate. We stowed on a hay wagon to the next village and then walked at night and rested during the day to keep away from people.”
“But why here?”
“We were making for the sea, intending to settle there, or maybe sail up or down the coast.”
Boudicca sat back, her eyes focused on Rhiannon’s. Neither woman flinched. “You’re holding something back.”
Rhiannon hung her head. She’d learned to control her blush, but allowed it full rein on this occasion. “You know I’m a wise woman,” she whispered, looking up at the eager young woman.
Boudicca nodded.
“I don’t trust the Romans.”
“That makes two of us,” admitted Boudicca, “but my husband rules, and he has assured me that our tribe will flourish while protected by the Romans.”
“We were on the road,” continued Rhiannon, drawing Boudicca into her tale. “It was a full moon, and we stopped beside a stream. I went further down to bathe and found a wide pool. The moon shone her face into the water and told me to travel east to the sea, where a tribe was in need of our skills ... a tribe lead by a strong woman.”
“You were told by the moon to find me? But I’m not the leader.”
“I know. I’m sorry,” muttered Rhiannon. “Please let me rest a little before you send us away.”
Boudicca took Rhiannon’s hand. “You are welcome in my tribe for as long as you wish to stay. Would you share your herb lore with me?”
“Of course,” said Rhiannon, placing her hand on top of Boudicca’s. “I’ll help you any way I can.”
Rhiannon was glad Boudicca had offered for them to stay in this village, and not the main one further north and east. Though she’d studied hard, using a mixture of Celtic, Welsh, and German to make herself understood was tiring. Here, there were few people to converse with, whereas Boudicca had said that the main village numbered almost one thousand people, not including the satellite villages on the outskirts.
Settling into and being accepted into village life began with the raising of their own house. Boudicca had indicated to her tribe that the strangers were to be respected and aided in their endeavors. None would dare question their leader’s wife, but it wasn’t until Rhiannon healed Owain’s nasty leg wound, caused by a loose ax swing, that the village people opened up and accepted the newcomers. Tom and Will’s interest and knowledge of metalwork won them acclaim too, so their home, a small, wooden, thatched building, reinforced with daub, and with a stone-lined drainage gulley to carry away water from the roof, was soon erected and kitted out with the help of the community.
The workings of the village fascinated Rhiannon. She watched and learned from the potter, offering her turn at the evening firings. She loved listening to the stories of the land, sea, and sky they told while waiting for the heat in the kiln to harden their pots. Tom and Will followed the villagers, seeking out the places where heavy rocks held onto the magic metal they required. They all learned to make willow baskets, while Tom’s strong, broad hands were ideal for forcing the bone needle through the thick hides to make clothing, covers, and bags.
In those first months from the end of summer into autumn, the one thing they all battled was the oncoming cold. During the day, one could work to build up some heat, but first thing in the morning and once the sun had left the sky, the three of them shivered.
“Can’t you stoke this thing up or something?” complained Will, rubbing his hands over the cooking fire in the house.
“Do you want to catch the whole thing alight after three weeks of solid work?” suggested Rhiannon.
The tribe wore closely-woven, tight undergarments against the cool evening air, whereas the strangers’ attire was looser, allowing the drafts to invade their bare flesh. Though they had thoroughly researched the evidence of clothing of the time, Boudicca’s expression when she saw Rhiannon’s clothing suggested she didn’t believe her story about a long walk from Wales, but she didn’t comment.
Annie, an orphan girl assigned to aid Rhiannon in exchange for food and a bed out of the elements, explained about the gatherings, the thrice-yearly meetings where much could be traded and bought, held on one of the only areas of higher ground belonging to the Iceni tribe.
“There are carts from all over this land and some from over the water,” explained Annie. “From beneath the animal hides, they bring out gleaming knives, fine cloth, handsome pots, and strings of shining stones and precious beads.”
Rhiannon laughed at the wide-eyed face, full of excitement. “How do you pay, Annie?”
“Not I,” insisted Annie gravely, “for I have no skills or goods to trade.”
“But if you had, what would you buy?”
“I love the stones, like the one at your throat, or a blue one, the color of little Sean’s eyes, but they’re not for the likes of me.”
“You, Annie, have been invaluable to me already,” insisted Rhiannon, “by helping collect our wood when my ankle was bad, and by helping me mix the daub for our house.”
“But what could I trade?”
“Do you know herbs and the medicinal properties of plants?”
The tiny, fairy-like girl crumpled up her face, tears pricking her eyes.
“Then I shall teach you,” said Rhiannon, waylaying Annie’s imminent distress, “and you shall be able to trade for any shining stone you care for. Now that the house is finished, we’ll collect what plants we can find at this time of year, dry them, and then make powders, cures, tinctures, and salves for our friends in other villages.”
“You would teach me?”
“If you’d like to learn.”
“I could be a healing woman like you?” Annie’s voice had risen to a squeak of barely-contained delight.
“We’ll need to make pots and bags to store the medicines, and Boudicca mentioned bee hives for wax and honey. When’s the next gathering?”
“You came just after Lammas, so the next is All Hallows Eve before the earth sleeps for the winter.”
“Then we have a plan to acquire warm clothes before winter. Are you with me?”
While Tom and Will helped in the fields, bringing in the grain and coppicing in the woods, Rhiannon and Annie, and sometimes Boudicca, packed up chunks of bread and a piece of Hannah’s goats’ cheese, and took turns to ride the strong little pony Rhiannon had been gifted. Rhiannon and Tom made willow panniers to hang over her flanks to collect herbs and plants. Each day, Rhiannon set off in a different direction, her internal navigation system in perfect synchronicity with the universe at this Time in Earth’s history.
Daily life was physical for the people of the Iceni tribe, but much was done communally, or between a few neighbors, allowing everyone a chance to rest a little. Job sharing meant that if a villager was unable to work one day, others knew what needed to be done. While the older folk were less able to cut down trees, dig, or plow, they minded and cared for the children, a vital job to ensure the continuation of the tribe. Rhiannon absorbed the interactions of the human bei
ngs around her, thrilled to be able to glean valuable first-hand experience about how these Homo sapiens thought at this moment in Time.
It wasn’t all work. At night, once the meal was eaten, if the air was dry and the wind dropped, the big fire was lit, and the villagers came together to talk, dance, and sing. With the calfskin drumbeat resonating in her heart, Rhiannon joined them, while Tom and Will drank the throat-scouring alcohol the tribe made from fermented grains and fruits along with the other men.
Some evenings around the fire were different; no longer family, community gatherings, heightened sexual tension filled the air. Rhiannon asked Annie how it worked.
“It’s the moon goddess,” blushed Annie. “When she’s new, you know, untouched, she seeks a man, not to make her a woman, but to fulfill her need and make her bloom.”
“Every new moon?”
“Of course. Any girl can sit around the fire, and none are forced to be touched, but you are allowed if you want. Lots of marriages start this way, but you’re already wed, so you’ll need Will’s permission if you want to be touched.”
“Does he need mine?”
“Oh, no! Men can do as they wish.”
“Why bother to get married then?”
“It’s practical living. Men and women share the workload and raise the children.”
“What about Aisha and Elva?”
“Theirs is marriage too. They will be given an orphan, probably a baby, but they are both fit, strong women, and expert hunters. This is their role, one to which they are best suited.”
That evening, Rhiannon relayed this news to Will and Tom over their meal of potato, barley, and nettle soup seasoned with herbs and wild garlic.
“Of course the men are in charge,” stated Will.
“Yes, but every member of the tribe is valued for his or her best attributes, no matter what sex a person is,” insisted Rhiannon. “That’s not how it works on Earth in 2020, so what went wrong?”
“Human life and happiness lost its value,” said Tom. “The problem was that men started valuing money.”
Will erupted into laughter. “Preaches the Dragon Man on top of his hoard of gold!”
“I was including us, Will. Valuing money and wealth above the needs of—”
“Shut up with your preaching! I love my life in Rinzenclaw, okay? I’m only here because I have to be. If that damn Almira had given me the codes, I’d be back home drinking Gronnklinta beer by the pool right now!”
“That is why she gave them to Rhiannon,” said Tom. “You’re so predictable, brother. She knew you’d break your word, even to father.”
Rhiannon hadn’t even blinked before Will was across the fire and holding a blade to Tom’s throat faster than any human could move. “Badmouth me one more time, and you’re dead, brother or not.”
Returning from the past was never an exact science. Rhiannon was not inclined to gambling, but if she had been, she’d have recognized that the odds of them returning safely and unharmed weren’t good. Success depended on a host of variables that, when the Time came, she would attempt to balance before using her own power to create a vortex for them to travel through. Almira’s final words were already making sense to Rhiannon; the more she learned about the Iceni tribe and their connection with each other and the land they lived upon, the more she felt part of this Time, or rather, part of all Time. Rhiannon’s power grew daily in a way it hadn’t done before, confined as she was to the teaching rooms in Castle Carreg. Now, she imbibed the riches of being a woman of the earth.
The days were shortening. Rhiannon and Annie made the most of the daylight in the countryside, returning before dusk each day to prepare the grains, seeds, and pulses they’d been soaking, ready for the evening meal. Most meals were served with a hard, dense bread or flat biscuit. They were a little bland, so Rhiannon’s herbs were an addition of flavor they were grateful for.
“How much longer must I sup this invalid’s mess?” moaned Will. “I long to be back in my own Time.”
“Time?”
“He means ‘home,” Annie,” assured Tom. “He’s hopeless, and keeps mixing up the words of your language!”
No amount of glaring would persuade Will to hold his tongue.
“Time! Place! Whatever! I want out of this cold, muddy hellhole!”
“Now, now,” soothed Rhiannon, aware of Annie’s eyes on them. “It’s been a long, wet day, I’ll grant you, but we’re among friends here, and we must be grateful for the opportunity to live our lives without fear. Annie, fetch the pot by the door. We’ll have a hot drink to warm and soothe us.”
“We picked the berries,” explained Annie about her task, “and they’ve been juicing.”
“We have honey for sweetness. With hot water, it’s the perfect tonic to warm the coldest heart.” Rhiannon offered the steaming cup to Will.
Scowling, he left the house, taking one of the lanterns with him.
Annie delivered her summary of the evening, shaking her tiny head as she sipped her drink. “You two will never have a babe of your own while he’s a mardy old boar.”
Rhiannon caught Tom’s look. So the villagers had been talking. At least they’d come up with their own version as to why Will and Rhiannon were childless.
The next day, while they put the finishing touches on their medicines and carefully packed the pots and pouches into the panniers ready to be carried by Star the pony, Rhiannon shared a confidence with Annie.
“I may never bear a child, Annie, but it’s not Will’s fault. There was an accident. I fell a long way, and I bled and bled from my insides. I’m lucky to be alive and have a husband at all.”
Annie squeezed her hand before tenderly stroking it. “Not everyone can,” she assured. “Maybe Will could touch me, and I’d have your baby for you.”
Rhiannon hugged Annie to her. “You are the sweetest and most generous girl, and I thank you for your kindness, but I believe my job is not to be a mother, but a healer, don’t you think?”
Annie rested her head on Rhiannon’s shoulder. Warmth and love seeped from the tiny body into Rhiannon’s heart. “Healer is a good job, and you’ve been more of a mother to me than anyone in the tribe.”
“More like a big sister,” said Rhiannon, kissing the top of her head, “and it’s been my pleasure. Now, help me fetch our plants inside. There’s rain due, and I don’t want them knocked over.”
The day of the gathering dawned dry after a wet and windy night. They set off early from the village, buoyed along by anticipation and excitement. Even Will looked happier as he sat on the cart equipped as a mobile forge. The men had crafted blades, buckles, and pins to sell, but it was Tom’s idea to take equipment with them to shoe horses with hipposandals on site. He’d also designed a way to build a small fire that could be made hot enough to melt metal. It would take all the wood and peat they carried, and would surely be hard work, but worth it. They also carried supplies with them to erect makeshift tents and mattresses, as they’d be staying overnight.
They’d been assigned Finn for the day, an orphan a year or two older than Annie to pump the bellows bag. Annie liked Finn, and in her company, his stutter and his limp were more pronounced. Rhiannon led Star, chatting to Tom beside her until her ankle ached, and she took a turn on the cart. Her herbs had healed the cut, but there was a chip of stray bone within that irritated her ankle. She hadn’t the confidence to perform the surgery on herself in their present circumstances, despite Tom offering to help, so she rested when she could and put up with the ache and soreness.
By the time a weak, watery sun hung overhead in a cloudless sky, they were winding their way to the top of the mound to set up their carts with the others. A fire burned in the center, and drum beats and flutes merged with the crackles and cries and chatter of the stallholders and customers.
Annie and Rhiannon set up a makeshift tent beside Star, who happily munched the hay they’d brought for her. Inside, two stools and a tiny table allowed a little privacy for those in nee
d of medicine. Word spread quickly. Rhiannon soon had a queue forming, which Annie supervised. The forge took longer to set up and heat, but at the prospect of shoes for horses, hoes, hammers, and blades made as they watched, ready to take home the next day, a crowd gathered, and Tom didn’t miss the opportunity to entertain. While Finn tended the bellows, Tom juggled, demonstrated the stilts he’d made, and added laughter to an already exciting day. There was no sign of Will. He always disappeared when there was work to be done.
Mid-afternoon, Annie was dispatched to request payment terms of the trader of fine woven material. Three hemp plants were gratefully accepted by them, as well as a salve for burns and another concoction to stem bleeding and promote healing. This only bought enough to clothe Rhiannon and Annie, but a small, sharp-pointed knife, brooch, and buckle were exchanged for the men’s quota.
While Rhiannon and Annie shared their delight at the prospect of warm, soft underclothes, shouts rose from the crowd, and soon, the word traveled back to them; the king and queen were coming. The tribe put down their trades and purchases, moving as one to encircle the fire and welcome Prasutagus and Boudicca to the gathering.
It was Prasutagus who wore a great fur cloak and a metal crown decorated with shining stones and adorned his neck and arms with strings of jade and amber, but it was Boudicca who drew the eye, her red hair intricately braided and her strong, lean body stained blue and tattooed, over which she wore a cape of crows’ feathers lined with rabbit fur. Her tight-fitting underclothes were covered by a shift of luxurious, thick wool.
While Prasutagus’s attire said, “I am your king. Kneel before me,” Boudicca’s clothing, stance, and smile said, “I am privileged and proud to be the queen of your tribe.” Their daughters stood between them. They were big, buxom girls with long, dark hair to their waists, and weren’t much older than Finn, but seemed to have acquired their father’s appetite for feasting.
Beside the fire later in the evening, Boudicca sought out Rhiannon, much to Annie’s star-struck delight. She scurried off, cradling the arm the queen had patted. From the musicians on the far side of the fire rose a drum beat, and then a nasal call, followed by the thrumming of stringed instruments. The beat was slow and hypnotic. The tribe nodded and tapped as into the light of the fire danced Will and Tom. In the fresh air, beneath a huge sky and full of beer and mead, Will had thrived, and he joined his brother in the intricate dance.
Guardians of Time Page 3
