Nature's Tribe

by Jacky Gray

  Giving thanks to Verat for teaching him Mummering skills, he lurched, as though overcome by his injuries. Zane scented victory, tugging on the rope. Although sorely tempted to pour every ounce of strength into toppling his opponent with a resounding clout, Cal contented himself with a move which would appear to the untrained eye as a fortunate accident. It did the job and his opponent fell with a satisfying thud.

  ~*~

  Jarl clapped along with the other men as Cal and Derran received their medals. Tradition had it that the men did not share what went on in the village hall on Imbolc eve with the women. Any more than the women shared what happened in the meeting room.

  Both factions had an idea of what went on, but neither tried too hard to discover the other’s secret. Jarl normally saw evidence of their activities displayed during the following day’s procession through the streets. And he knew Senna received a stock of bandages every year which had been blessed by Brighid. Beyond that, he had no interest in “women’s things.”

  The younger lad held up a victory fist which received a huge roar from a group he recognised as the quarrymen. The sight of Brom elicited mixed feelings as he thought back over the day. That afternoon, Senna had reason to consult one of Lyran’s old notebooks for a remedy, but could not find them anywhere.

  After searching the house from top to bottom three times, they tried to recall when they were last used. Senna insisted she had not needed them so far this year. The only time Jarl had seen them was when Lyran explained his suspicions about the quarry a year ago, referring to the notes he’d made.

  Lyrelie finally remembered searching for a particular incense recipe for Imbolc. In a hurry, she left them on the dresser, intending to put them away later. A couple of questions established it was on the day of the blizzard. The same day Brom had come to the house. And the break-in had happened a few days later.

  Bryce had arrived at the village hall late, having escorted his wife, Paulina, and her sister to the meeting room. They had volunteered for the late shift, staying most of the night with the girls. He listened to Jarl’s account with growing concern as they made the link with the missing records from the quarry – all evidence which could be used to build a case against Domenyk.

  Jarl debated mentioning Brom’s name, deciding it made no sense to withhold it. He trusted Bryce to be thorough and impartial in his quest for justice, and knew the Scot would quickly establish the quarryman’s innocence.

  For his part, Bryce reasoned that he would never get a better chance to carry out a search with everyone occupied by the initiation rites and Domenyk still away.

  Jarl scanned the crowd; a couple of hours had elapsed – he would have expected the constable to have returned by now. As he walked outside, Dennon appeared at his side, pointing at a strange glow in the sky in the direction of the council building.

  3 – Ostara

  Senna sat on the tree stump at the edge of the woods, watching the sun set as she had done so many times with Lyran. The past few days had been harrowing for everyone in the village; particularly Paulina, who had clung onto Senna as though the support was the only thing preventing her from joining her husband.

  With unease, Senna used a strong sleeping potion to give the girl some relief from misery while she prepared Bryce’s body. Unwilling to allow Lyrelie to deal with the horrific injuries from the blaze which had killed him, Senna was grateful for Jarl and Marena’s help. Every aspect of her duties brought back memories of her first husband’s death.

  “There you are, my love. I’ve been searching for you everywhere.” Jarl sat next to her, wrapping her in his arms. His warmth and strength banished her gloomy thoughts and she returned his embrace.

  “I had just about given up when I remembered how this used to be a favourite place of yours at sunset.”

  “It was special to both of us.”

  “You’ve been trying to connect with him.” Jarl’s tone was matter-of-fact, no trace of suspicion. “Did you …?”

  “No. It is as though he has disappeared completely.” She frowned. “But tell me, what happened at the council building? Did you get the chance to search for evidence?”

  He shook his head grimly. “Councillor Osman has been instructed to secure the building against intruders until the sheriff can send an investigator. The councillors have returned to their old rooms in the village hall for now.”

  “Oh, dear. Ranly won’t be pleased about that.”

  “He seems to be spending a lot of time in Oxford. More than his normal court duties require.”

  “Perhaps he’s met a woman over there.” Senna smiled.

  “Ranly? I cannot think of anyone less likely. Although something seems to be putting a smile on his face.”

  “Do you think so? I thought he seemed a little tired.”

  “Now you have me wondering.” Jarl’s grin was wolfish. “I didn’t know the old dog had it in him.”

  ~*~

  Lareeta could barely contain her excitement and happiness as she prepared to celebrate the second anniversary of her handfasting to Taron. Despite all the traumas they had endured in that time, she felt blessed that her life was finally on a good course. Tonight, after sharing a special meal, their coupling would have special significance. The tender breasts, swollen belly and slight cramp were three of the familiar signs that her body was perfectly primed for conceiving a second child.

  Two years ago, she’d lost her first babe early in the pregnancy and had fretted unreasonably. Worried about repeating her mother’s problems in getting and staying pregnant, she pestered Lyran and Senna to discover everything about the process. Lyran had little experience with this aspect as most of his patients were already pregnant. His approach was to spend a couple of days in Oxford, reading everything he could find about the topic.

  Scarcely anything had been written down, but one of the professors had been a physician to nobility, who had far more problems with infertility than the poor. The man had studied many cases and suggested the biggest factor concerned diet and inactivity. Nobles ate far more meat and rich foods, drank more strong liquor, and spent much less time in the physical activities which might keep their bodies healthy. The larger quantities of fresh fruit and vegetables and especially the labour-intensive lifestyle of the lower classes made their bodies far more ready to conceive.

  While Senna agreed in principle, she focussed more on Lareeta’s mental wellbeing, suggesting this played a bigger role in her body’s ability to carry a child. She taught her how to count the days of her cycle compared to that of the moon. It soon became apparent that Lareeta’s bleeding corresponded with the three days of dark moon.

  The moon would be full in two nights, so tonight was the first of the five days when she would be most likely to catch. All she lacked was the keen sense of taste she associated with being fertile and slight raise in temperature, but that did not happen until the height of her cycle, normally when the moon reached its fullness.

  According to Senna’s beliefs, she and Taron were perfectly placed for conception, both being ready to extend their family. A little brother or sister for Christian would be perfect. She counted the moons on her fingers, pausing as she came to the conclusion that, if they were successful in their coupling, the little one would be due at Christmas.

  With a sigh, she realised that, much as she might want another babe, the timing of it would not be fair to her father. She would not want to remind him of all the pain and heartache he had suffered, on previous Christmas days. Better to leave it two moons or even three so the babe would stand a better chance of survival after the harsh, wintry weather had finished.

  Christian awoke, demanding immediate sustenance and, as she bent to pick him up, she passed wind noisily – no doubt the cause of her swollen belly and cramp. Freeing a breast to pacify him, she realised the tenderness could simply be the result of him sleeping for longer so the milk had built up. She smiled at her foolish yearning, remembering Senna’s advice that the chances of catch
ing with a second babe were slim in the first three moons while the first one suckled day and night.

  Singing to her son as he busied himself, she had almost convinced herself the wait would be wise, when Taron swept in the room, full of outdoor energy. Plonking a package down on the table, he came over and kissed her and Christian as usual.

  “My, my. You two smell good enough to eat. Such a wonderful sight to come home to.”

  “Welcome, my love. You smell of wood shavings and hard work.”

  “Which is a kind way of saying I stink. It is finally starting to warm up after so many chilly weeks. I should go up and change into something a little fresher.” But he stayed to watch as she finished the feed, laying their sleeping son in his cradle.

  As she headed to start the supper, he pulled her to him. “I have a different hunger you can satisfy first.” He kissed her like a newlywed, and pulled her up the stairs, ridding himself of his tabard and chemise in a single move. “You have been on my mind all afternoon; Sawyer ordered me to stop dreaming when I dropped the plane for the third time. Thankfully, I did not break anything.”

  Unable to think of a suitable reply, Lareeta gave herself up to her husband’s talented hands and her own passion. When they stumbled down the stairs, still giddy with their amorous exertions, she spied the package. The smoked ham was a gift from a satisfied customer, and an unexpected treat for their special meal. Setting the table, she wondered if his sudden lusty actions were related to her cycle. Although he had been as curious as she about the details, she did not think he paid too much attention to the timing.

  Lareeta hung the kettle over the fire in preparation for Senna’s regular examination of mother and babe. Straightening, she caught herself yawning, and a smile played round her lips. Something had fired her husband’s blood for the past week; he took every opportunity to “sow his seed,” several times each night. She had no complaints; he was gentle and considerate and they shared abundant pleasure.

  At the healer’s knock, Lareeta welcomed her in and set about making a brew.

  Instead of sitting, the healer followed with a frown. “Are you all right, my dear? I sense fatigue in those rounded shoulders and pale countenance.”

  Lareeta smiled. “I am fine, honestly.”

  Senna felt her forehead and gazed into her eyes. “Have you been getting enough sleep? I can give you a salve to help if Christian is wakeful at night.” She opened her bag, searching as she spoke. “I imagine his teeth will be causing some pain as they try to break through.”

  “A salve would be useful. I have been rubbing a little chamomile tincture on his gums, but only at night as it makes him very sleepy.”

  “Excellent.” She produced a tiny jar. “This includes clove to ease the pain, but use it sparingly. His face may pucker as it’s quite bitter, but do not worry, that’s to stop him licking it off. I used it on Lyrelie with great success, and I never use anything else if I get toothache.”

  “Thank you.” Lareeta brought over the infusion and they sat by the fire.

  “You are welcome. But it’s Taron, not Christian, who has been stealing your sleep, is it not?”

  Lareeta tried to hide her blush. “How could you know?”

  Senna grinned. “Your husband shares a certain dreamy glow. Along with the pale face and dark eyes of fatigue.”

  “Oh.” She could not meet the healer’s twinkling gaze.

  “What’s wrong?” Senna’s ability to sense people’s inner thoughts made her an exceptional healer.

  “I – I am a little worried because if I get pregnant now, the babe may be born again on Christmas day. After last year, I worry about the effect on my father.”

  “I remember it well; he turned into a monster. But considering what happened …” She shrugged. “I understood him to be quite altered since then. Has there been another incident?”

  Lareeta shook her head. “Absolutely not. He has become quite a different person. It took him a while to accept Taron, but Mama believes he loves him like a son.”

  “Good. That was my feeling last time I saw him – altered beyond recognition. You know he apologised to me for being so rude at Yule?”

  She nodded. “Mama said he had. I was so pleased. And he’s inordinately proud to sponsor Taron through his baptism into the church in a few weeks.”

  “It sounds encouraging. I understand your concern is linked to his fear of the death of an infant, but you are well recovered from your illness. There should be no problem with this pregnancy or birth.”

  “You say that as though you already know I’ve conceived; can you tell?”

  “Of course not. But I think it unlikely. Have you had your first moon flux yet?”

  “No. You said I would not bleed until he is over six moons old.”

  “In some cases it can be a year. Every woman differs – indeed, every child is different. Ask Cora. Or Marena.”

  “I already did. They both had babes scarce a year apart.”

  Senna shrugged. “There it is, then. But until you have had two fluxes, your body is unlikely to be ready. It is Mother Nature’s way of ensuring a woman does not wear herself out from too many infants at once.”

  “I see.” Lareeta sipped her brew. “However it seems a little odd that Taron and I should both be so …” She blushed, trying to think of a word to describe their lustiness. “Maybe it was simply the magic of the anniversary of our handfasting.”

  “Possibly, but there is another reason. If I remember correctly, your cycle was tied to the full moon, so that is probably why he has been so attentive in the last week.”

  “Really? Is that how it works?”

  “The alchemy of the body is such that a woman changes subtly when she is fertile and men can sense it.”

  “Are you talking about the humours the physicians set so much store by? I never really understood them.”

  “It may be related, but I believe this is more of an aroma. Lyran spoke of a study involving dogs and other animals.”

  Lareeta nodded. “It makes sense. They are always sniffing each other.”

  “Whatever the cause, please have the grace to let nature take her course. Do not concern yourself with the outcome – a child can sense if the mother is ready, and if not …”

  “Really? So you are saying all those times Mama could not hold onto her babe …”

  “Exactly. And the same for you, my poor love. You caught quickly but, because you and your father were still estranged, you were not mentally prepared to cope with the rigours of carrying a child. Let alone the birthing and everything which comes after.”

  “I see. Surely you are not saying the babe was responsible for my illness.”

  “I think it unlikely. However your body somehow knew and determined you must lie fallow for a few moons to regain your strength.”

  “I know you always say it, but you are right; Mother Nature does work in mysterious ways. To everything a purpose …”

  “And a reason for everything. I’ve seen it happen so many times, I firmly believe it. Which brings me to the purpose for my visit. I know you did not know Paulina very well …”

  “How dreadful you must think me. I never even asked for news of her.”

  “You had your own concerns.”

  “But to lose her husband in such a dreadful manner. I have only spoken to her once since the burial; it is so difficult to imagine what I could say to her. And how she would feel about Christian now she can never …”

  “That is why I have come to you first. You and Marena have the youngest …” As Senna spoke, Lareeta reasoned it out and squeaked with excitement.

  “She’s with child. How wonderful.” Then she thought it through. “Oh dear, I didn’t mean to … I know it will be hard for her without Bryce, but at least she will have something to remember him by.”

  “My thoughts exactly. Which is why you will be so good for her. Like you, she tried to catch for many moons, so it will be good for her to speak to someone who understan
ds what she has gone through.”

  “What about her sister?”

  “Dagda does her best, but she cannot be there all the time.” Senna’s sigh hinted at her concern and Lareeta hastened to explain her hesitation.

  “I would be happy to help, but you are right, I barely made her acquaintance. She must have many closer friends who know her better than I.”

  “Most of whom share your reluctance to visit for fear of upsetting her.”

  “I expect they all have young children, too.”

  “Some of them, but that is not significant because Paulina does not want people knowing she is with child until it begins to show. The last thing she needs is more pity, or people worrying about her well-being.”

  “Would she not be upset about you telling me?”

  “It was her suggestion. She has fond memories from the time she worked with you in my mother’s workshop. She sees you as kind, supportive and, above all discreet.”

  Although flattered by the description, Lareeta had far less confidence in her ability to give Paulina the right level of support. But the universe conspired to ensure things happened smoothly as Dagda invited them to her Sunday lunch, placing Paulina between her and Lareeta.

  Taron spent much of the meal chatting to Dagda’s husband about their current project. Sawyer had been chosen to provide pews for several local churches. This involved a great deal of employment for him and his father, who was chief woodsman for the village.

  He again thanked Lareeta for her part as her father held an administrative position on the diocesan council.

  After lunch, the two men disappeared to the workroom, and Dagda would not hear of any help clearing up, insisting they had a lot to catch up on.

  Paulina shook her head, suppressing a smile. “I should take advantage of all this kindness, but it feels awkward. Dagda finds it hard to talk about anything pertaining to emotions; she’s much more like a man in that respect.”