by Jacky Gray
Both women nodded.
“There we have it. Oil of cloves is your best friend. Rub a little on the gums two or three times a day. And I recommend a little chamomile infusion after their last feed of the day to help them sleep through the night.”
Before going home, she checked on Paulina, who looked quite exhausted.
She gave a rueful grin as she caught Marena examining the dark shadows under her eyes. “I know. Senna and Lyrelie have both told me I should get some more rest, but it’s been so hectic with the council and the lehren. Poor Sawyer and Taron can never meet the needs of all the people wanting furniture for their homes.”
Marena finally understood. “You haven’t been eating enough, have you?”
Paulina gazed at the floor. “I haven’t had much time to eat and honestly, I haven’t felt hungry. Senna said as long as I keep drinking, the milk will keep flowing.”
Warning hackles prickled along Marena’s spine, but she kept her tone light as she continued to examine the woman’s belly. “When was this?”
“Just before she had Alex. And she’s been so busy since then I didn’t like to disturb her.”
“Of course. What did Lyrelie say?”
“Much the same.” Something about the pause and careful wording alerted Marena to the lie.
“If she was too busy with the lehren, why did you not come to me?”
“You weren’t here.” She realised her mistake. “I mean, you have been caring for Lareeta, Cedany and Shayla as well as all the other ills in the village.”
How could she not notice what was going on in her neighbour’s house? Breathing deeply, Marena pushed out all the frustration anger and smiled. “The good news is: you don’t have the illness you have desperately been trying to hide from people. The bad news is: Jarl will be teasing poor Bryce from now till next Imbolc.”
Paulina frowned. “I don’t understand. Imbolc is seven moons away … Oh.” A huge grin split her face. “Jarl will be teasing Bryce that it is not a race to fill the house with babes.” She wagged her finger at Marena. “You are turning into an awful tease.”
Marena struggled to cloak her delight in sternness, not quite pulling it off, so she borrowed the wagging finger. “You must stop thinking of everyone else but yourself. You must rest. And eat. But especially rest or you will endanger this little one.”
“Imbolc you say.” Her face clouded. “That would be a sad reminder of his father’s death.”
Marena was about to correct her when she realised the woman may not want to know she carried a girl. At that insight, she thrilled to the idea it had not been a fluke with Eanje’s babes; her gift had truly developed. She planned her words carefully not to give anything away. “It could be a moon either way, depending on how your body adjusted to being over here. I imagine you have not had a flux yet?”
“No, but that is to be expected while I am nursing, yes?”
“Absolutely.” She frowned. “I would not recommend mentioning it to anyone until you are over this bad patch. We shall say it is a summer blight, and I will ensure the rest of your house know how strictly they must care for you. You are not to lift a finger other than to feed Andrew for the next moon until the danger is over.”
“Oh, dear. You mean I cannot even tell Bryce?”
“Especially not him. He doesn’t deserve to know after neglecting you so badly. I shall have a strict word. Or two.”
Paulina looked stricken. “It is not his fault; he tried to help, but I wouldn’t let him. He told me to talk to you …”
“But you told him I was too busy. Dear neighbour, I am mortified one of my oldest friends would ever think me too busy to help.”
“I’m sorry. I will never make that mistake again.” Tears glittered in Paulina’s eyes as she stood to hug her. Andrew chose that moment to awaken, demanding instant attention.
“No. You stay put. It will not harm him to wait for a moment. If you always jump to his call, he will never learn his mother has other duties and it will be the worse for you when this little one is born.”
Paulina’s eyes beseeched as Marena stopped on the way to stoke up the fire and hang a pot of water over it. The babe, unused to such neglect, made his displeasure known, working himself up into a state as he kicked his legs and waved his arms.
“Now, now, young Drew.” She crooned as she lifted him from the cradle.
His shock resulted in a momentary lull as he reacted to the unfamiliar smell. He rooted around at her chest, searching for sustenance.
Marena chuckled. “Sorry little one, they’ve all but dried up now. Your mother will be available soon, but first I must deal with this stinky linen.”
With the ease of many years’ practice, she had him cleaned up and in his mother’s arms in a trice. She searched among the baskets in the larder for something to eat, finding nothing but crumbs. Ignoring the woman’s attempt to apologise, she popped out, returning moments later with her own store of oatencakes.
Paulina accepted one immediately and, by the time Marena brought the beaker of warm tonic, had demolished two more. “Thank you. It seems I am all right with plain food. Some of the pies and broths the others make are a little too spicy for my stomach.”
“It’s a sorry state of affairs when the larder is bare of Paulina’s famous cheesy bread.”
She grinned. “Chalette promised to bring me some cheese, but it has all gone to the communal kitchen. I cannot work there because the strong smells make me …”
“Of course. From now on, we will all act like a proper tithing and look out for you. I must admit my failure in not noticing your plight. I can see now we have all been far too busy striving to replace all the possessions we lost when we came over here. Some things are far more important.”
Paulina swiped another oatencake. “So I am to grow fat and lazy while everyone fusses around me?” She grimaced. “It sounds like my idea of purgatory.”
“Only for a moon. Then you should be strong enough to do a little. And I do mean a little.” She mimicked Dagda’s stern face and tone. “Otherwise you will be in grave trouble, young lady.”
As though summoned by the god of inappropriate timing, the woman herself appeared, her face stern. “Do you mock me, Marena?”
“Absolutely. This naughty sister of yours needs a firm hand. She has been suffering a grave illness for weeks and hiding it from all of us.”
Dropping everything, Dagda rushed over to her sister, hugging her and squashing the babe who took no notice, guzzling greedily. “Oh my love, I’m so sorry. I knew you were tired, but I thought all new mothers looked like that.”
Marena explained her strict regime for Paulina, asking Dagda to alert the others in their house, while she informed the rest of the tithing.
Dagda saw her out, lowering her voice as she sought to explain and apologise.
Patting her arm kindly, Marena sympathised. “I’m just as furious with myself as you. We should take this as a lesson to all about where our priorities should lie.”
“I will ask the council to remind people to rest and take care of each other.”
By sunset, Marena had alerted the other families, who all reacted with the same concern, promising to take a turn on the proposed rota. Poor Paulina would not know what had happened, going from manfully struggling to do everything in solitude, to barely spending a moment alone.
Eanje had declared her babes would be born in the henge so, when the birthing pains began, Marena joined the girl’s family in the short journey, laden with sheepskins, linens and all the paraphernalia required for the task.
After all their concerns, it ran smoothly. Afterward, Marena realised the presence of so many powerful healers meant it could not go any other way. As predicted, Tryslan took his first breath a few moments before midnight and Alysen a little while later.
Barely giving herself time for breath, Eanje reached out for her son. Lyrelie handed him over while Lyran whisked his daughter away to clear her airways and produce the first c
ry. Pleased with the efficiency of the teamwork, Marena dealt with the birthing cords and sacks.
As they made their way back to the village, she was pleased to see no lights flickering in Paulina’s window and sent a prayer the babe would sleep all the way through the night to give her a good rest.
9 – Blessing Moon – July
Blessing moon: Strength/fertility, success/money, good luck. Need for structure/discipline and other mundanities.
Rielle
After so many moons of turmoil, a joyous handfasting was exactly what everyone needed. Rielle gave thanks that all the people she cared about most in the world managed to forget their cares and struggles for an afternoon as Tol wed his blushing bride in the heat of a glorious midsummer day. Willow glowed with extra beauty, surrounded by her bridematrons, Lyrelie and Freya.
Cal and Verat supported Tol admirably, and the three couples sat together during the feasting, toasting absent friends – Ran had not been able to attend. Unfortunately, this left spare places at their table, and Rielle watched in dismay as they were filled by Zane and Wilona. She knew a little of the history between her grandson-by-marriage and the youth she thought of as dark and sly.
Thankfully, surrounded by his friends, Cal kept his peace for the entire meal, although she suspected something had gone awry as she saw Verat and Jarl accompanying him away at the end of the dancing. She sent up a prayer that he would continue to display such strength of character, resolving to have a word with Lyrelie whenever she could. Fond memories of her granddaughter as a sweet babe made her smile.
As proud grandparents, Rielle and Taysen had happily taken care of their granddaughter whenever Senna attended to something demanding her full concentration.
Shayla, Lyran’s cousin, had become as another daughter ever since she and Quinn moved back to Avebury. When Quilla came along, it was no bother at all to have her and Alex sleeping soundly in a quiet corner while their mothers dealt with matters to do with the council or healing.
The latest two babes, however, proved a different matter altogether. Although she and Taysen still thought of Lyran as their son-by-marriage, for some reason, it did not feel the same as when they’d looked after Lyrelie. Rielle knew the fault did not lie with Eanje, who they loved every bit as much as all the other young women they had welcomed into their family over the years.
Taysen tried to console her. “Do not take it so personally. Lyran probably has a dozen reasons why it makes no sense for us to have the twins today.”
“Name one of them.”
“Well, there’s …” Her husband paused, his eyes clearly displaying his attempts.
“You can’t, can you?”
A shake of the head preceded a defeated grin, then his eyes lit. “He probably worried about them being away from their mother when they are so young.”
She clicked her tongue. “It was Eanje who asked if I might take them for an hour. Is she to have no relief?”
His gesture suggested confusion and she forged on. “He happily left them with Shayla. And we had Lyrelie at barely three days old, never mind nearly three weeks.”
“We did? I mean, of course we did. But we were a lot younger then. And there are two of them, not one.”
“And there are two of us.” She frowned. This was not the support she had become used to from her husband. For all their wedded years they were so in tune about everything he had backed her up unreservedly.
“I know, my love.” He took her hand, squeezing it as he waited for her full attention. “Please do not spend another morsel of your time or energy vexing over this. Whatever his reasons, I am sure it is not as bad as you think. We shall have our time to get to know all the little ones, I promise.”
She gave him a smile which struggled to get past rueful. This was just the latest in a number of small incidents which had unsettled her over the past few moons.
Apart from the discord between Cal and Zane, she had observed small tensions between Senna and her new husband, putting it down to the stresses of becoming parents at such a late age. And in Jarl’s case, for the first time. Rielle noticed how his phlegmatic approach to most things occasionally made Senna angry.
Similarly, she spotted small strains between Lyran and almost everyone around him, particularly Jarl. This could be partially explained by the enormous pressure he had been under for so long, however, it paled in comparison to his contention with Tasker. Although concerned about the situation, Rielle was unwilling to interfere and happy to abide by Taysen’s wise words that it would all blow over once they settled into their new routines.
Swallowing her disappointment, she joined Dimia and the rest of the women in their light, airy workshop. The men had abandoned the building, claiming it unusable as a dwelling because of poor drainage and a sinking sarsen. Dagda and Bernadine had overcome the problems and created a clever design. The wall opposite the sarsen had four willow curtains which could be rolled aside to let in daylight and let out heat to cool the place down.
Rielle knew the women appreciated the camaraderie of chatting while they worked, spinning and weaving the cloth and making the various ropes and baskets. They swapped tasks on a rota and today saw her and Dimia with the least popular task. Working at the edge of the building, they wove branches into frames to make the wattle hurdles used as doors, shelves and fencing panels. It was physically demanding and, even with the gloves, their hands and arms were covered in scratches from the unforgiving twigs.
Dimia mused that, had they been back in Marlborough, the haberdasher would have provided them with a perfect pair of gloves.
“Do you miss it?” Rielle had visited her friend’s home several times, and knew she had lived as a gentlewoman, with servants to take care of her every need.
Pausing to wrap the willow strand around the last stake, Dimia shrugged. “Only a little. I know you must think it a privileged life, but I felt lonely for most of the time.”
Sharing the process was more efficient than doing it separately, and Rielle took over the willow at the half-way point. “I can imagine. From what I could tell, Garvenal did not allow you the freedom to choose your friends.”
As the willow strand ended, Dimia started a new one. “It was much worse than that for many years. His concern about his standing in the town was such I could never speak to anyone unless they were regular churchgoers. And he knew their family.” She repeated the wrapping technique. “He wasn’t keen if they attended a different parish.”
Shaking her head, she passed over the willow and stood, stretching. “That was in the past. Before leaving, I caught a glimpse of the dashing young man I fell in love with many years ago. He is who I shall always remember.”
“Would you think of going back?”
“To that house? Never.” Then she realised the impossibility and laughed. “What am I saying? It would not be there. You mean back to the town to see if any of my old friends came through?”
Rielle nodded, smiling.
“It’s funny you should say that. I dreamt of the place last night.”
“No. So did I. How very strange.”
That eve, a cart bearing two people clattered into the village just in time for dinner.
~*~
Eanje
Nothing in her eventful life could have prepared Eanje for the intensity of motherhood. She’d had brief dealings with babes, looking after her young siblings and, more recently, helping with the five newcomers. But this was nothing like that; never had she experienced the total helplessness, absolute dependence, and trusting faith that “Mama will fix it.” Her inability to get to the bottom of what made her son scream until his face turned blue often reduced her calm proficiency to frenzied incompetence.
The contrast could not be more marked. Alysen brought nothing but delight, easily sated and content to bask in her mother’s love. A true gift from the Goddess, she had a sunny, ancient energy, which charmed any person in her presence.
Unlike her brother. Tryslan demanded attent
ion for every waking moment, making his dissatisfaction known to everyone in her house, and every house in the vicinity. He guzzled so greedily her initial routine of reserving the left side for Alysen and the right for him quickly led to an imbalance with one breast becoming double the size of the other. Swapping sides every feed improved this, but the constant effort of feeding exhausted her. When she wasn’t nursing, she ate or slept, but her hunger led to cravings for spinach, liver and blood pudding, not normally favourites of hers.
After two nightmare weeks, Senna finally realised a solution. She had more than enough milk for Alex, so at the next feed, she expressed some into a beaker. When Tryslan reached the stage where he became agitated because he had drained poor Eanje, Lyran used an adapted water skin to feed Senna’s milk to his son.
The first time proved disastrous as the lad’s greediness made him choke and he spewed everything back, leading to the lad screaming even longer and louder.
No one would have imagined the saviour of the day would be Tasker, nor the serendipity of his timing.
He seemed overwhelmed by the six pairs of eyes facing him with fraught expressions. “I – I’m sorry to disturb you, but I have something here which might help. I made a batch for Eanje …”
“Really?” Lyran’s harsh tone would have sapped the resolve of much stronger men.
Eanje wished he had not mentioned that fact, given Lyran’s unreasonable jealousy toward the man, but he stood his ground.
“Aye. It’s a special ale fortified with …”
“You come here amid all this turmoil to bring ale to my wife?” Lyran’s anger set his son, who had quieted at the sound of Tasker’s voice, back into screams.
Again, the mason’s courage in the face of the various concerned looks directed at him, surprised her. She watched as he moved to the table and filled a strangely shaped spoon with the creamy liquid in the bottle.
“May I?” He held his arms out for the babe.
