by Jacky Gray
Senna acknowledged that she, too, had giggled a lot more since taking up with Jarl – a man never far from a jest. Maybe it was not good to have two such similar people in a relationship, although the many happy years she and Lyran had spent together belied that.
Today’s task involved transporting the stones from the quarry, and both Senna and Lyran had shared a dream which made it doubly important for her to accompany them. Jarl insisted she ride the horse he had named Midnight. As they crossed the Ridgeway, an ancient road, the babe kicked again.
Senna’s gasp alerted Jarl and he halted Midnight, his face full of concern. “What happened? I knew I shouldn’t have let you come. Is it the babe? I forgot to ask how you were after all the excitement yesterday.”
“Calm yourself. The babe just kicked. Nothing to worry about.”
“He just kicked you? Is that normal? Hie, Lyran. Senna needs help. Something’s gone wrong and the wee fellah’s trying to kick his way out.”
Tasker’s alarm showed how little he’d had to do with pregnancy, but Bryce smiled. “’Tis nae worry, man. Paulina swears her ribs are black and blue on the inside from the way ma wee man is treating her.”
“You are both so sure they will be boys?” Senna chuckled. Right now, she had no clue – it could be either.
Lyran raised his eyebrows and she knew instantly that he thought of the strong connection he’d had to Lyrelie in the womb. It seemed likely Jarl would not have the same intuitive gifts, not being a healer.
“What?” Jarl glared at them. “I saw that look. There’s something wrong, isn’t there?”
Lyran clapped him on the back. “Only with your imagination. I just remember how Lyrelie used to kick. She would fair bounce my hand off Senna’s belly.”
Jarl’s comic expression set the other men laughing again, and she did not have the heart tell him about the babe’s kick yesterday. It would not be fair after this fuss.
Moments after they resumed the journey, the babe kicked again, but she knew better than to react. Glancing down at her husband, she noticed a large boulder lying on the ground a few paces away from the path. Something about it seemed familiar, but she ignored it, instead focussing on the little one inside her. It had been so long ago that she forgot exactly how the bond to Lyrelie had begun. She closed her eyes, but a much stronger sensation had them shooting open. The babe had definitely moved inside, as though turning round.
Her eyes were drawn to the other side of the path where a slightly smaller slab lay on the ground. It reminded her of the altar stone at Stonehenge. At the instant she made the link, she got another kick, as though confirming it. How absurd. Why would the babe have anything to do with the stones? Again, it rolled around inside, whether in joy or exasperation, she could not tell.
An image of the full henge sprang into her mind. Of course. These looked similar to the sarsen stones used to create it. With a blush, she remembered her and Jarl’s sweet union at the solstice. Could the babe have been conceived there? Lyrelie had chosen the Avebury henge. She smiled when, a few moments later, Tasker pointed out another one of the stones, explaining to anyone who would listen.
“This is the actual field of sarsens used to build the great Stonehenge. And many of them were dragged down for our modest little henge at Avebury.” Mystery solved.
“Watch it. Tasker’s gone into professor mode. He’ll be after a cap and gown, next.” Jarl’s comment had them chuckling as they discussed how many men it would take to lift one of the great slabs.
With the quarry only a little further on, and she gave thanks for the distractions which had diverted her attention. The place no longer had the power to terrorise her, with Lyran alive, his death merely a part of Gaia’s plan.
It seemed Tasker felt the same way as he pointed out the spot where he had been sent to an early grave. “Even death cannot hold the Tasker down for long.” He flexed his muscles and everyone chuckled at the jest.
While the men loaded the first cart, she walked back up to the top of the quarry, trying to find the view from her dream. Looking back toward the village, she recognised it as the field of sarsens. Another kick made her chuckle. “You really do have a message for me, don’t you, little one? Well, let see what it’s all about.”
She walked over to the nearest stone, a long, rectangular shape which she measured as three paces by two. Depending on how much it had sunk into the ground, it was somewhere between one and two feet high. From what they had said, it would be the equivalent of half a wall. How much time would that save them? She wished she’d paid more attention to their discussion about moving the things; they looked very heavy.
Her musings stopped as Jarl called her name and, on her reply, yelled for her to stay put. A moment later, his arms surrounded her with both hands on her belly. The babe kicked so hard, Jarl released her, jumping back.
“Oh, my. Is this what you were all talking about? It really felt as though he were trying to kick my hands away, just like Lyran said.” He pulled her to him, in a much gentler hug than normal. “You are amazing, growing a soldier strong enough to lead an army. The babe responded with another kick, and this time, Jarl chuckled. “See? He agrees.”
As he guided her back to the quarry, she wondered if her dreams had drawn her here so Jarl could connect with his child.
The first cart was full, and they attached it to Midnight’s harness. Preferring to walk, Senna led him back with Jarl and Tasker guiding the cart over obstacles and steering it away from ditches. Lyran figured it would be more efficient if he and Bryce loaded the second cart while the other two tipped out the load and returned.
On her return, Senna was pleased to see Eanje fast asleep; the poor girl looked worn out. She set off with a couple of willow baskets to replenish the stock of oats and wild grains which ran out every three or four days. With one hand on her belly, she sought the little one growing inside her, trying to think of a suitable name.
“Alex, protector of mankind,” sprang into her mind, no doubt influenced by Jarl’s conviction they had made a warrior. Two kicks suggested the babe approved, and she chattered happily to it as she detoured to the woods, adding mushrooms and berries to eke out the last of the broth.
She got back to the church just as Bryce and Lyran arrived with the second load, and the constable proudly presented her with a couple of squirrels from the traps and a pheasant. Lyran’s first priority was to check on Eanje, and they were all relieved to see her awake and looking considerably better.
“I must have known you were close; I’ve made enough infusion for all of us. And before you scold me, I had naught to do but fill the pot and stoke up the fire.”
“Oh, sweetheart. I didn’t mean to scold. We merely worried for your health. The rest has done wonders.”
Eanje seemed a little subdued as the men assured her she had missed nothing but sweaty, dirty work. They competed to describe the task with such abhorrence she was forced to admit she would prefer to stay.
Senna knew how much she hated being idle, suggesting maybe Eanje could do something creative with the remaining pile of willow branches before they dried out and lost their flexibility completely.
All the men returned with the third load; Jarl and Bryce had come up with a different plan, which Jarl explained to the women as they finished up the broth.
“Before we go too much further, I think we should try out this idea, it will reduce the amount of stones and will probably be warmer in the winter.”
Bryce picked it up. “It’s based on a design they use up in the highlands where the winters are harsh. If we dig a couple of feet intae the ground, we can use the earth we pull out tae create a cement to bind the rocks together.”
Lyran added his bit. “Because the digging and loading use different movements, it makes sense for us to swap between the two activities.”
Eanje nodded. “I believe they use something similar in hot countries where the thick walls keep the heat out in the summer, too.”
Senn
a looked at the eager faces waiting for her approval. “What about you, Tasker? Do you have any reservations?”
He shrugged. “It sounds reasonable, but we won’t know until we try. I suspect we may have to waterproof the outside with daub.”
The four men were exhausted after the rigours of the day, all opting for an early night. As Jarl snuggled around her, he placed a hand over her belly. “I suppose it’s too much for a goodnight kick from my son.”
“Why don’t you try talking to him? He told me his name today.”
“He told you?”
“He or she, because it could be a girl’s name, too.”
“Do I have no choice in the matter?”
“Of course. But I know you’ll approve.”
“Tell me.”
“Alex. It means protector …”
“Defender of mankind.” He spoke at the same time. “A true warrior name. How you can imagine it would be a girl is beyond me.”
“Alexandra. Aleksa. Alessi all get shortened to Alex.”
“Only time will tell, my love.”
At the end of the third day, the work-sharing scheme had worked well and the first house began to take shape. Eanje had recovered sufficiently for her and Senna to bind all the available materials into bundles for thatching. They borrowed the spare cart and scoured both woods looking for any more fallen wood which could be used in the various projects or dried for burning.
Eanje asked each of the trees to spare any branches they no longer needed. The willows, in particular, were especially generous, as though they knew the many benefits of their precious limbs and understood the two women would make best use of them and not waste anything.
With scarcely a week to go until the full moon, the roof timbers were up and the men wove the layers of flexible willow and hazel branches for attaching the thatch bundles. They had two sturdy ladders and Lyran suggested neither of the women should be involved in these activities because of the potential consequences of a fall.
Senna knew he worried about her babe, and was not surprised when Eanje failed to protest at being excluded. Her illness had left her fragile and prone to dizzy spells.
Gaia co-operated with their efforts, providing a warm, dry October week, restricting any rain and wind to overnight. Lyran proved to be the most adept at working at great heights and, as he finished off the last few layers of thatch, the other three spread Tasker’s chalk mixture over the floor, stamping it in to make it solid. They lit a small fire and left both doors open so the through draught would dry the inside by the time they needed to use it.
Every eve saw them firing a fresh batch of beakers and platters to create sufficient for the hoard they were expecting. Lyran had negotiated with Gaia to open a portal to allow enough animals through to keep them fed over the winter and, in particular, to provide milk and eggs for variety in their diet.
She also agreed to the transfer of certain provisions, particularly those which would reduce the amount of resources required from the new world. It made no sense to repeat all the effort which had gone into the thatching and clothing people had made.
Lyran had to press hard to include sufficient metal tools and utensils, but she stipulated anything which had been used as a weapon would not pass through. Because of the complexity in keeping the portal open, they had only a quarter hour to transfer everything.
As they waited for the allotted time, Senna glanced at Lyran, noting the signs of strain. He never spoke of his meetings with Gaia, but Senna had come across him meditating in the moon circle as the sun set and moon rose from opposite ends of the sky. Shortly afterwards, he went to bed without eating dinner, and the next morning he mentioned the idea of opening the portal for the animals. She worried about the effect of these meetings.
Several key individuals had been identified, and Gaia arranged for them to be infected. On the other side, Cal and Lyrelie were in charge of the quarantine process. They had treated the people, giving them a special potion which included a few drops of Lyrelie’s blood. Their reaction to this determined whether they were sufficiently pure of heart and mind to cross to the new world.
Freya and Verat had a part to play, and the four friends carried out the ritual on the first day of the full moon, sending Tasker’s friend, Brom, and his family, followed by Woodward, the chief woodsman, and his family. The deliberate timing used the full moon’s power to ease the transition between the worlds, and it gave the travellers a day to recover before the big push.
The chosen field on Farmon’s land contained powerful ley lines which would add their energy to the proceedings. Lyran and Jarl found the intersection of three lines where the portal would open. Senna and Eanje surrounded it with a circle of willow branches which the four of them circled three times, reciting the incantations Lyran had received.
At midnight, with the moon’s might at its height, thirteen people gathered around the circle, following his instructions. On the other side, Cal led the prayers while his parents and brother prepared to drive the animals through. The cattle, sheep, goats and pigs had been munching on food laced with a concoction of herbs which rendered them docile.
Under Lyran’s instruction, for the past few nights, the hens and cockerel had been sleeping in a makeshift roost atop a wheeled cart, pulled by none other than Jarl’s horse, Star. Two more carts had been loaded with thatching, clothing and bedding. A fourth had all manner of equipment, including a smith’s anvil, two weaving looms and dozens of tools for working with wood, stone and metal. Farmon’s two best men led the carts through, handing them over to Tasker and Brom, who steered them out of the way and settled the horses.
Bryce hovered anxiously, scanning the portal, trying to give the appearance of calm. A huge grin split his face as Paulina walked through and he scooped her up in his arms despite her protests. He carried her off to one side where he had brought a chair for her to sit on and a fleece to keep her warm. Eanje promised to stay with her while Bryce helped Woodward and the others guide the animals into the field.
Senna knew she had to be patient a little while longer as the two couples on each side held the four corners long enough for all the animals and carts to get through.
When it ended, she spent a few precious moments with her daughter as Cal said his goodbyes to his parents. Both Lyran and Jarl demanded hugs, and Senna turned to Freya, thanking her and Verat for all their help and support.
“Are you feeling well?” Senna felt her forehead. “You look a little pale. Please tell me you and Verat are drinking plenty of the potion to keep you safe from infection.”
“Lyrelie is like a tyrant, she marks it off on a slate. We have the normal one every eve with our supper and the special one every Sunday.”
“Good. When the pestilence hits, you might think of having an extra dose midweek.”
Verat glared at his wife. “My thoughts exactly.”
Senna smiled. “Your instincts are good.” She hugged him, and then Freya, with an extra squeeze. “Please pass this on to Cora from me. I miss her terribly. And Alfun.”
“They both miss you, too. But especially mother. We all spend so much time with Shayla and Quinn, she jests that we should all live together in one house.”
“That is exactly what we are planning when you get here. Two or three families will all share a house so we do not need to burn so much wood for heating and cooking.”
Freya clapped her hands. “How wonderful. We have become so close with Lyrelie and Cal, it would be such fun to share a house with them.”
“As long as we get separate bedchambers.” Verat could not maintain his pretended horror as his wife blushed, slapping him for the tease.
Cal heard the exchange, punching his friend’s arm as Lyrelie and Freya swapped identical heavenward glances.
All too soon, they had to part and, although Senna wanted to cling onto her daughter, she knew the dangers, so she let her go, asking Cal to take care of her. “In fact, all four of you take care of each other.”
> The friends waved from the other side as the portal shrank.
Despite the lateness of the hour, no one felt particularly sleepy, and Farmon pulled out a couple of bottles of good brandy wine he’d smuggled across in the cart. He and his wife, Chalette, went around the room making sure everyone had a beaker of something they could raise in a toast to their new home.
Reluctantly, Senna refused, organising apple and blackberry juice for the youngsters and herself. Paulina and Brom’s wife asked for some and, surprisingly, so did Eanje.
Senna frowned. It had been several days since the illness, she would have expected the queasiness to have cleared. “Would you prefer a ginger infusion? That will settle your stomach.”
“Oh, it’s not that. My head aches from the effort of opening the portal. I think the liquor would make it worse.”
Senna felt her forehead. “You are running warm. Maybe after the toast you should lie down in your room. It will be extremely hectic for a few days until things settle.”
Farmon called everyone’s attention with a loud shout. When the hubbub abated, he addressed the room. “It is not my place to lead, but I would have each of you give thanks to the extraordinary man who has made all this possible. To Lyran. And don’t glug it all back at once.” He raised his beaker in the healer’s direction and took a delicate sip as people chuckled, repeating his actions.
He pulled Lyran to his feet. “A word, if you please.”
Senna knew how much he hated speaking in public, although he’d had plenty of opportunities since the very first time on their wedding day almost two decades earlier. Why she should think of that right now was a puzzle.
As though concerned about her link to her former husband, her current one stood behind her. Jarl’s hand snaked round to cover her belly as though he wanted to remind her who had planted the seed there. Alex played along, moving around to Jarl’s delight.
Lyran cleared his throat. “Thank you, Farmon. And for this.” He held up the beaker. “Very thoughtful. I hope you will still be grateful a week from now when you see the amount of work we need to do. It will be a hard slog if we are to withstand the winter with what little we have.”
