Nature's Tribe

by Jacky Gray

  Tapping his cousin’s shoulder, he gestured for him to follow, leading him away from the bonfire to the centre of the moon circle where the eerie cove stones stood alone. The setting seemed appropriate as the three-quarters-full moon shone pale against the slowly darkening sky.

  Jarl frowned. “Is this the burning question you’ve been wanting to ask me all day?”

  Lyran nodded, struggling to find a way of leading up to it.

  “The one about Senna and I?” Jarl raised an eyebrow.

  “Yes.”

  “Well there’s nothing betwixt us, if that’s what you think.”

  “And why would I think that?”

  “Because your wife and that daft cousin of ours cooked up a scheme which may have led you to believe Senna was jealous of Shayla and I.”

  “Right. I heard about that. It has nothing to do with it. Except in some ways it might; it depends on …”

  “Cousin. Will you just come out and say it? That you want me to marry Senna when you die.”

  Lyran stared at his cousin, dumb-struck.

  “Well, I will. Of course I will. Although why you imagine I would ever outlive you with my lifestyle is a mystery.”

  Heaving a sigh, Lyran pondered for a moment. “But that’s no good, you need to say it properly.”

  “Cousin Lyran, I will marry your wife, if you should die before me. There, will that do?”

  Tightening his lips, Lyran knew he was pushing hard. “Almost, but you need to say it’s a promise …”

  “Lyran, I promise to marry, and take care of, your wife, Senna, if you should die before me. That’s it. That’s all you are getting.”

  “Strictly speaking, you should repeat it three times to make it a proper oath.”

  “I have said it three times.” Jarl’s voice had almost become a growl.

  “Then in that case, it’s a binding oath, and I will keep you to it. Even if that means I have to come back and haunt you from my grave.”

  Senna and Lyran’s Handfasting Menu

  Course 1 – Entrees ~~~~~ with Prunelle

  Devilled Eggs ~ Salmon Fancies ~ Cheese surprise

  ~~~<><><>~~~

  Course 2 – Fruit ~~~~~ with Spiced Wine

  Baked apples and prunes ~ Fruits of the season

  ~~~<><><>~~~

  Course 3 – Pottage ~~~~~ with Smallbeer

  Rabbit, leek and shallot stew with herb dumplings

  ~~~<><><>~~~

  Course 4 – Fish ~~~~~ with Cider

  Trout with almonds ~ A salat of spinach and chard

  ~~~<><><>~~~

  Course 5 – Meat ~~~~~ with Wine/Ale

  Roasted Beef & Mutton ~ Roasted parsnips & turnips

  ~~~<><><>~~~

  Course 6 – Vegetables ~~~~~ with Wine/Ale

  Mushroom tartlets ~ Mashed swede ~ Pickled carrots/pears

  ~~~<><><>~~~

  Course 7 – Pastries ~~~~~ with Mead

  Cherry hearts ~ Honey oatencakes ~ Wild berry parcels

  ~~~<><><>~~~

  Course 8 – Cheese ~~~~~ with Porter

  Rowan cheese ~ Brie ~ Stilton ~ Roquefort

  ~~~<><><>~~~

  Course 9 – Sweetmeats ~~~~~ with Brandywine

  Honey-roasted nuts ~ Marchpane ~ Candied Violets

  Not the most romantic note on which to leave a wedding story. My fault, I’m afraid. Who am I? I may give a couple of clues to see if you can work it out.

  Senna’s story originally started toward the end of her mourning period when she was forced to choose between two suitors. Her biographer, Ms Gray, apparently thought this was when Senna’s story became most interesting.

  Humph! No offence taken whatsoever!

  Despite being a good yarn, 12 Days of Yule missed key parts of the feisty midwife’s early life. Anyway, sufficient readers saw fit to complain about the lack of information on a certain character – coughs modestly – Ms Gray has relented. Several incidents have been recorded in what she calls a prequel to give you an insight into the circumstances leading to Senna’s marital predicament.

  The next story gives some detail of a major incident which coincided with the union of two of Senna’s dearest friends, Cora and Alfun. In addition to showing a very different aspect of handfastings, it includes guest appearances from two sisters who became very dear to her.

  Cora and Alfun

  Part 2 – Beltane

  The following year

  6 – Pre-wedding Jitters

  Senna paused halfway down the hill, mopping her brow on the warm April day. A twinge in her back told her she should slow down a little, advice she’d given dozens of times to expectant mothers. Massaging the small of her back, she gave a tentative stretch and wriggle of her shoulders. Today, for some reason, her small frame seemed ill-designed to cope with carrying so much extra weight.

  As had become her custom, she chatted to her unborn child. “Daughter mine, you are feeling particularly heavy today. I think you may be sleeping in that strange position which causes discomfort.” She brought her hands round and placed them either side of her swollen belly. “Please be kind to your old ma and move around so it doesn’t ache so much.” As it did every time, her request had the desired effect, and she delighted in the feeling of her babe’s head pressing into her hand as she shifted herself. Like all those other times, the weird sensation brought forth a tender smile at the sheer joy of being with child.

  It gave her the impetus to reach her mother’s house on the edge of the village, and she scurried straight round to the workroom at the back where her best friend, Cora, worked as part of a team of girls. They created beautiful garments according to the instructions of her mother and father, who supplied high-quality clothing to a number of merchants in towns as far-flung as Oxford, London and York. Her father, Taysen, even negotiated with travelling merchants who brought exotic fabrics in exchange for finished gowns which they peddled across the seas.

  Hearing her mother’s voice, she paused outside and listened.

  “Before you finish today, I beg a moment. I would like to announce that one of Cora’s gowns was purchased by a member of the royal household visiting Oxford.”

  Among the excited chatter, several voices congratulated the girl. Senna reasoned that the working day had ended, so she would not be disturbing anyone when she entered.

  Her mother, Rielle, held up her hand to silence the girls. “This is extremely good for all of us, as the woman has commissioned a number of gowns for herself and her daughters. I have no doubt when she wears them at court we will get further enquiries. Well done, Cora.”

  Senna watched as three of the girls leapt up to hug Cora, while the other two exchanged hostile glances.

  Rielle led the customary thanksgiving prayer and then the chattering girls collected their outer garments and departed.

  “Senna. How bonny you look.” Her mother hugged her as the youngest girl passed by.

  Excusing herself, she caught the girl’s arm. “Paulina, may I have a word, please?”

  Recognising the younger sister of Cora’s other bridemaiden, Senna worried that her mother’s serious face did not mean good news for the girl. But she wasted no time in hugging her friend. “What wonderful news. You must be so proud. I’m sure my mother is.”

  Cora’s face shone. “Oh, yes. Rielle could not wait to tell me. I really love working with her; she’s so generous with her praise and encouragement. This past year has been so much better than the previous one.”

  “I know. It was hard for us all when mother took ill. I suspect you had the hardest part, trying to keep all those lively young girls doing their work.”

  “Please do not remind me. I hated that part of my duties more than life itself.” She accompanied her words with a dramatic shudder. Then her playacting became serious. “But it must have been so much harder for you, seeing your mother at death’s door for so many moons.”

  Senna grinned. “If it had been anyone else but mother, I might have suspected some manne
r of shirking. But Rielle loves her work with such a passion, I truly believe it hurt her to be away from it for so long.” Glancing at her friend, she sensed an underlying sadness marring Cora’s normally cheery disposition. She kept her counsel as she sought more information. “Tell me more about this royal client. Will you have to go to London to meet her? How exciting.”

  Cora shook her head. “It would be, but I cannot fathom how I can continue to work for your mother after I marry Alfun. From what I hear, a farmer’s wife has many duties which keep her occupied for every minute of every day.” She lowered her eyes. “I cannot see how it could happen. One of the other girls will gain the commission.”

  The situation was far worse than Senna imagined as her dearest friend broke down. She let her cry, knowing the restorative power of letting out the pent-up emotions. But instead of dying down, the tears turned to sobs.

  Although Cora normally hugged with abandon, for some reason, when Senna reached out, her friend recoiled, wiping away the evidence of her undoing. Something was seriously wrong. Senna tried to connect with the cause of her friend’s misery, but the hurt ran so deep it blocked all attempts to pierce the protective shielding. Sending copious amounts of healing energy, Senna bided her time while her friend composed herself.

  “I’m sorry. You must think me weak and simple.”

  “Not at all. I’m mortified something could upset you so deeply and I’m not aware of it.”

  Cora’s response was somewhere between a sniff and a snort. “Bless you, Senna. All you ever do is help people. Here I am feeling sorry for myself when you nearly lost your mother. I can only imagine it was due to your healing skills that she recovered.”

  The last thing Senna wanted was to dwell on her mother’s mysterious illness which had defied all attempts by the learned physicians her father employed to heal her. When he finally allowed his daughter to use her herbs and crystals, it was almost too late. Both father and daughter had learnt valuable lessons, thankfully not at her mother’s expense.

  Taking her friend’s hand, Senna squeezed it gently. “I wish you could tell me what ails you. I can see it runs deep into your soul, but my healing would be much more powerful if you could share whatever is eating away at your equilibrium.”

  Shaking her head, Cora breathed in a shuddering breath. “It’s so unfair. Kerise will get the commission, even though she’s the biggest source of trouble, always goading the others to mischief.”

  Further discussion was curtailed as Rielle returned and Paulina fled past them, nearly bumping into her older sister.

  Dagda jumped out of the way. “What’s wrong with Paulina? I hope she’s not been causing trouble.”

  Senna’s mother hastened to reply. “Nothing could be further from the truth. After Cora, she’s the most cheerful and accommodating of all my girls.”

  Dagda frowned at her sister’s retreating figure, her manner brusque. “She looked upset. Have those nasty madams been teasing her again?”

  Rielle’s face revealed her shock at the possibility. “What?” She glanced at Cora. “You never mentioned this. They are a little sharp for my tastes, but I thought everyone joined in the tittle-tattle. I know girls of that age can be mean, but I never realised they would turn on their own workmates.”

  Senna saw conflicting expressions crossing her friend’s downcast face. She realised the source of Cora’s earlier upset, but she would rather pursue her enquiries in private.

  Although a couple of years younger than Senna, Dagda’s strength of character, along with her exceptionally tall stature, made her fearless when it came to dealing with any injustice. With a disgruntled snort, she mollified her tone. “I’m sure you’re right and I’ve misunderstood the situation. There must be some other cause bringing her to tears.”

  Spreading supplicating hands, Rielle spoke with gentleness. “I’m afraid I had to give her notification of release. I have tried my best to teach her as a seamstress, but her heart is not in this task. I hope she will find more suitable employment for her skills elsewhere.”

  Dagda nodded, all signs of anger forgotten. “You have been very gracious to employ her for so long. I have heard several tales of her more costly mistakes. We are all grateful for your patience and generosity in keeping her long beyond what most would consider reasonable.”

  “Thank you. That makes me feel a little better about releasing her. I will, of course give a full recommendation when she finds another position.” She smiled. “Now, onto more pleasant tasks. Cora, I believe your gown will need to be taken in as your body continues to shrink with all this exercise Alfun has you doing.”

  “See, I told you it was working.” Senna again squeezed her friend’s hand. “Whereas my bridematron smock will have to be taken out if it’s to fit. This babe seems intent on doing a lot more growing.”

  The easy camaraderie of their group shone as Rielle bustled about, making alterations to the attire for Cora’s handfasting.

  Three days later, Senna watched her friend climbing the hill, her face strained, as though all the cares of the world still sat on her shoulders. Spotting her, Cora straightened up with a bright smile, waving gaily. Despite Alfun’s strict regime to get them both fit and active, Cora still could not run with the freedom and carefree abandon of youth. Probably because she never spent her childhood playing with boys and learnt to ignore all the critical voices which whispered, “Nice girls don’t do things like that.” The voices Senna ignored because she was enjoying herself far too much and did not care what other people thought.

  Cora stopped at the top, hand on heart, panting. “My, my. This is not a good day to be rushing up hills.”

  Senna hugged her friend. “Oh, my darling. You did not need to rush, especially in this uncommon warmth.”

  “Oh, but I did. Alfun has commanded that I have to hurry up a hill like this at least once every day.”

  “He’s commanded, eh? I never knew Alfun capable of that nature. He always seems so gentle and caring.”

  Cora released herself from the hug, regarding her friend with a guarded expression. “Are you teasing? Because right now, I don’t think I need any more teasing.” Her eyes watered in a most un-Cora-like manner.

  Gesturing at the front door of the tiny cottage, Senna tried to fill her voice with reassuring warmth. “Please, come in and share a beaker of my latest concoction. I’ve been experimenting with cooling down certain infusions and I think this latest recipe is the best so far.”

  A little while later, her friend had regained her normal composure and characteristic smile as they swapped tales of their day. She listened with mounting distress to Senna’s tale of attending Farmon’s young son who had not stopped screaming for two days.

  “Could Lyran not have gone? That’s a long journey for a woman in your condition.”

  “He sent a cart.”

  “Good of him. But Lyran could easily have ridden …”

  Senna’s breath hitched. “You know of the quadruped disease which has plagued the livestock of …”

  “Of course I do. Lyran has been working tirelessly to diminish the outbreaks in all the farms.”

  “Farmon’s is the only farm in the area with no reported cases, so he insisted Lyran stays away for two moons until the effects have cleared completely.”

  “I suppose it makes sense. If he’s working on the contaminated farms, he may carry the disease.”

  “But Farman’s become very protective, hiring marshals to patrol his borders to ensure no animal or human crosses.”

  “That seems very drastic.” Cora frowned, obviously working through the implications. “Surely there must be deliveries. And the farm hands …”

  Senna shook her head. “No. The farm can provide enough for everyone who works there, so all the marshals are living on the land for the next two moons.”

  “I never realised the disease was so contagious. I’m surprised he let you in, being married to Lyran.”

  Hiding a smile, Senna glanced away. �
�Only because I convinced him Lyran has not been living here since the outbreak began. And because I submitted to his strict rules about leaving my clothes at the boundary of his land.”

  Cora’s eyes widened. “You did what?” Her face reddened, clearly outraged by shocking mental images. “How dare he? The impertinence of the man.”

  Unable to torture her friend any longer, Senna described how it had all been done with the greatest propriety. A makeshift hut had been erected so she could remove her outer garments, walk through the smudging fires and don a loose tunic before a fresh cart had taken her the rest of the way to the farmhouse.

  “He’d thought of everything. The cart had several cushions and a cloak, although it was much too warm to wear it.”

  “I suspect his wife provided that level of comfort. How is Chalette?”

  “Exhausted, as you might expect. And worn down by her husband’s insistence on such gruelling standards of hygiene. He insists on every beakerful of water being boiled and the sluice pails being emptied after every use. She’s only thankful they have a pump in the yard.”

  “It’s a good thing we’ve had a couple of rainy months to cope with such extravagance. What was wrong with the lad? Chalmon?”

  “Calmon. Although she calls him Cal. I think it started with two new teeth trying to come through at once, but he’s picking up on all the negative energies which have made it much worse. The tension in the house is palpable with all Farmon’s angry energy and her desperation to follow his demands.”

  “Poor thing. And being isolated from all her friends cannot help.”

  “Absolutely not. She was inordinately pleased to see me. And happy to use my suggestions to add plenty of camomile, lavender and lemon balm in everything they eat and drink to calm the atmosphere in the house.”

  “I’m sure Farmon will be pleased about that.” Cora’s expression suggested she thought the opposite.

  “Actually, he was surprisingly cooperative and sought my advice about herbs to protect his animals and workhands. He became excited about the crystal elixirs and tasked Jarl to investigate the mining of the rich vein of quartz on his land.”