Nature's Tribe

by Jacky Gray

  “Not every minute, but there weren’t enough in between for her to have met anyone. Even if she wanted to.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Have you not spoken to her about what happens to her when she is alone with a man?”

  “I knew it. If not Domenyk, it must have been Tasker. They had plenty of opportunity ...”

  She had no control over the hand that slapped his face. “You need to understand some truths about Eanje. I know she has shared some of her life, but if you think her capable of that kind of behaviour, you do not know her at all.”

  He snorted. “That woman has deceived so many people into believing her lies. Why else would Ranly hire her?”

  “Because she is a fine actress, and because she was the only person he could trust to do such appalling deeds and not use it to her advantage.” She glared fiercely. “Eanje told me she has never had carnal knowledge of Tasker, and he says the same. I believe them both.”

  “What? How dare you discuss my wife with that caitiff?”

  She raised her hand to slap him again and thought better of it. “That man is a good friend of Jarl and Quinn, and he only ever speaks well of you. He respects you far too much to take advantage of the woman you refuse to marry.”

  Lyran crumpled to the floor, cursing as he rocked.

  She left him to it while she finished the laundry task, and then sat next to him. “Why are you so sure the boy isn’t yours?”

  He scoffed. “You can ask that? Look at Lyrelie and Alysen. That cuckoo in the nest doesn’t even look like them, let alone me.”

  “Is it conceivable for twins to have different fathers?”

  With a sniff, he ground the heels of his hands into his eyes. “Yes. Possibly. One of my old professors made a study of twins, and I remember such a case.”

  Shayla folded her arms. “Oh, Lyran. I suspect logic was not a strength of yours at university. There are only two possibilities. First, Tryslan is yours, in which case you need to start loving him and his mother so much more than you do now.”

  He would not meet her gaze.

  “On the very slim chance he isn’t, there is only one likely circumstance.”

  “She told you?” He couldn’t even say her name.

  “That Domenyk raped her? Not exactly. When I asked her outright, she could not lie to me, because that is not who she is.”

  He looked as though he might bring back his dinner.

  She let him stew for a moment. “If that is the case, is it fair for you to continue punishing mother or babe for something not of their own doing? The Lyran I used to know and love had the biggest heart of anyone of my acquaintance. What happened to him? I think there are many in the village asking that.” She left him to his thoughts.

  The following day, she was gratified to see Lyran being a little kinder to Eanje, although this only served to amplify the dark glances and even darker energies of both Senna and Jarl. Unless she was gravely mistaken, these were aimed at Eanje; it seemed the poor girl could do no right. So much for the season of goodwill. Only Quinn maintained his normal, jovial nature. Sometimes, she envied his ability not to be affected by undercurrents.

  Putting the sleeping Quilla back in her cradle, Shayla resolved to have a quiet word with Eanje as soon as possible.

  The twelfth day of Yule traditionally featured the Feast of Fools, but the council requested a change. Many in the village remembered the one from two years ago, when Domenyk tried to dishonour Senna and discredit Jarl, naming him King of Fools.

  Cal and Willow had agonised over this for quite a while, and Shayla was pleased they had settled on her suggestion.

  The main requirement of their Feast of Friends was that each person, during the day, should do something fun with one or more of their existing friends. And at the feast, everyone should say something kind to someone who did not number among their friends.

  When the youngsters suggested this at the council meeting, it had ruffled a few feathers, particularly with some of the men, who objected to the idea of befriending their enemies.

  The edict gave Shayla the perfect opportunity to excuse her and Eanje from familial duties for a couple of hours while they strolled along the river bank. Stopping at Eanje’s willow, they snuggled in sheepskins, sharing a flask of spiced wine and a chat.

  “You have no idea how much I need this. Thank you for suggesting it, and I am honoured to be chosen as your friend.” Eanje raised her beaker.

  Shayla clinked hers and they sipped. “Honestly? I can’t think of anyone in my life who does it better. You are so much more than the sister I never had.”

  As Eanje’s face darkened, Shayla strove to stay away from anything which might cause sadness. “As soon as the weather clears, you must come with us to Oxford. Ranly will be thrilled to spend a few days with his grandchildren, and Roseena is keen to have you stay.”

  Even this caused a rueful smile. “I would love to see her again. Her letter was full of plans for the college, but very little mention of Ran. I would have thought to hear announcement of a bonfire leap at the very least.”

  “Give him time. Ran is not one to leap into anything.” She sipped. “I’ve noticed Lyran seems happier lately.”

  “You have?” Tears sprang to her eyes. “I can’t say I’ve actually seen him happy since ...” She thought about it. “Since Alysen was born.” She shrugged. “And before that ... maybe when I told him I was expecting.”

  Shayla gasped. “Really? It has been that bad? I thought the two of you were ... not exactly a heaven-made match. But I never realised it was that bad. Why did you not say something?”

  Eanje took another sip. “Oh, dear. I’ve given completely the wrong impression. I never meant to make it sound so bleak. Simply that, for as long as I have known him, he has always had a sadness about him. I suppose you might call it an aura or something.”

  Shayla nodded. “I know what you mean.”

  “Maybe sadness is the wrong word. A seriousness, perhaps.”

  “Both are right. He was born with the seriousness; the sadness came after his mother died. That’s why Jarl was so good for him; he barely has a serious bone in his body, let alone a sad one. At least, that’s who he was growing up.” She grinned. “Together they were a handful, I can tell you.”

  Eanje echoed her grin. “I would like to have seen that, but Senna had that privilege.”

  Shayla heard the wobble in her friend’s voice as she said the name, and glanced up to see it reflected on her face. “Is everything alright?”

  The tears suggested not, and Shayla held her while she cried. She didn’t weep for long, wiping her eyes angrily as she shuddered to a halt. “I am so fed up with being a weak woman, afraid to tell people truths they should hear. All for the sake of living in his precious harmony. Where is the harmony when he’s angry at me for things I didn’t do? He cannot face the fact he still loves Senna and she him.”

  She sloshed wine into her beaker and took a glug. “I should just go to Oxford and stay there, then they could have each other since it is so clearly what they both want.”

  Taken aback by her friend’s vehemence, Shayla said the very worst thing she could have. “What about Jarl?”

  “What about him? He’s no better; he had the nerve to warn Tasker to stay away from me because Lyran convinced him we were having an affair. He looks at me as though I’m something the cows shit out of their arse and … Oh. Merde. I’m sorry.”

  “Shit and merde.” Shayla giggled. “I don’t mean to laugh, but honestly. I have never heard you so out of control. It’s good to know you can let go.”

  Eanje’s lips twitched. “Oh, dear. I’m afraid I’ve spent too much time with rough elements. In several countries.”

  “Why don’t you tell me about it? Maybe I can help.”

  ~*~

  Eanje

  Eanje looked at her friend in dismay. How on earth could this woman understand all the things she had been forced to do? Sure, she had told her lit
tle bits of the story, but in deference to Shayla’s sheltered upbringing, Eanje had left out the majority of the horrors.

  She started with a brief recap of events leading to her trip to Frankia, and the awful innkeeper who had attempted to prostitute her, then kicked her out as soon as her benefactor left.

  “He sounded honourable.”

  “The innkeeper? He was anything but.”

  “You know full well I mean this Viking. The way you describe him, I could quite fancy him myself. If I didn’t already have Quinn, who is the love of my life.”

  Eanje sighed. “I was much too angry to realise it at the time.”

  “Not surprising after everything that awful family put you through. I’m surprised you could ever trust anyone ever again.”

  “That was the problem. If I hadn’t been betrayed by the nun and sorely used by those men, I may have seen Danton’s worth and my life could have taken a completely different path.”

  “Did you ever see him again?”

  “Yes. Unfortunately, I did not recognise him anymore than he knew me. Yet again, fate intervened to keep us apart.”

  “My poor love. You really have not had an easy life. When was this?”

  “Six years later.”

  “Where?” Shayla’s eyes narrowed.

  Eanje could not resist a grin. “Here.”

  “Here as in this new world? No, six years later would have been 1346. So, in Avebury, then?”

  “Yes. Specifically in the Waggoners.”

  Clapping her hands, Shayla grinned. “I love a guessing game. Definitely not Tabern. Let me see, a military spy posing as a gentleman. Aleksi? No? Dennon?” She shook her head. “He’s more Mediterranean than Nordic. I want to say Bryce, but you would’ve said Scot rather than Viking.”

  Eanje sipped wine, incredulous that Shayla would not think of him straight away.

  “Let me see, who would have been around back then? One of the quarrymen, perhaps? Oh my gosh, was it Tasker? That would make sense. Except I cannot imagine anyone describing him as either a gentleman or a Viking.”

  “And can you honestly think of him in the military? He goes out of his way to defy rules, that one. Although, I did threaten to pour a beaker of ale over his head.”

  “I remember Jarl saying. That’s it. Of course. Jarl. He was my first thought, but I dismissed him, because I’m pretty sure he still adventured overseas in 1346.”

  “He came back in October when his mother died.”

  “You slept with Jarl and you didn’t recognise him? I find that hard to believe.” She winked.

  Eanje coloured, her grin devilish. “Trust me, his love-making was extremely memorable, however, he changed considerably in those six years. As had I, so I can believe he might not know me. It was not until we became Wassail King and Queen that I ever got close enough to smell his unmistakable aroma.”

  Shayla chuckled. “I’m sure he’d be thrilled to hear us discussing him like this. Go on.”

  “That is all. I could not reveal myself because of the part I had to play for your uncle.” She chuckled at the name.

  “Domenyk. And the things you had to do.”

  Shaking her head, Eanje refused to think about that side of it. “I could not believe it when Jarl let me stay in his house. Just one more sign of the kind, generous man I let get away.”

  “I see. A lot more makes sense about the situation. I could not understand why you and Jarl never got together, you seem so perfectly suited to me.”

  “Living that lie for so long hurt deeply, but if I had revealed any of it, the mission would have been jeopardised. I hoped that, when it all ended, Jarl would be able to forgive me.” She shrugged.

  “Instead you lost him to Senna. That must’ve been really hard.”

  “It was what it was.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “It means forces outside of us had bigger plans.”

  “Really? I cannot believe you are so altruistic about this.”

  “I wasn’t. I was angry, hurt, outraged, you name it. Anything but harmonious.” Eanje sighed. “That was many moons ago, and I became accustomed to it. When Paulina mentioned spirit guides, I got in touch with mine, and he spoke of what was needed for the future survival of this planet.”

  “Goodness me. You really believe that?”

  “It helps to believe. I have faith it will all be what it is supposed to be if only I can keep being generous, kind, and forgiving.”

  “Good for you. Please feel you can talk to me about any of this if it gets too much to bear. At any time. Quinn and I will always be there for you.”

  “I am counting on you both. I think the two of you supporting me is the only thing which has kept me from falling into pieces on many occasions.”

  Shayla raised her beaker and they toasted the Feast of Friends before finishing the wine and returning home.

  ~*~

  Jarl

  The greater part of Jarl sought the grace to forgive Eanje for her many transgressions, but Lyran’s assertion she was having a wild affair with Tasker suggested the woman had no shame at all. And worse than her betrayal was the rift it caused between him and a man he would previously have trusted with his life.

  After Lyran’s adverse reaction to Tasker, the mason wisely limited his contact with her to a minimum, paying her no more courtesy than Senna. Jarl knew the man hungered for female company, despite having, by his own admission, “Naught to offer a lass but a gruff temper and a worn-out body.”

  However, he had some sympathy for his cousin. If someone had continually tried to offer help to Senna the way Tasker did to Eanje, he knew he would become more than a little irritated. And Tasker’s anger when Jarl had suggested he might back off a little had smacked of a guilty conscience. He only hoped it might all settle down in a few weeks’ time.

  The latest revelation from his dreams threw all manner of nasty implications concerning Eanje’s motives.

  That she was a master of disguise went without saying. Never would he have connected the rigging monkey with Coline, or the serving wench at the Waggoners with the waif Ranly had rescued from an Oxford gaol or the fine lady who attended Lyrelie and Cal’s handfasting. It was no wonder he had not recognised her, but surely she must have identified him? He had not changed much over the years.

  Shaking his head, Jarl refused to examine too closely the idea which brought him to his knees. That the connexion he shared with Coline had been so significant it had changed his life, but apparently meant nothing to her. For days afterward, he could barely look Eanje in the eye. All he saw were the lies and deceptions she spun to manipulate people – men – into doing her bidding.

  The Yule season gave ample opportunities for her to display the generous side of her nature and, time after time, he witnessed people singling her out with gifts of appreciation for the things she had done for them over the year. Admittedly, many of them were students at the lehren and their parents, but he was surprised when even the dour Brom thanked her personally for turning his lad from a reluctant scholar into leader of his class.

  “You are too kind. It was a team effort. Your lad is a credit to you and Elspeth.”

  “Aye, he is now. No one else saw his potential and worked with such patience to overcome his aversion to lettering. Now he is giving Elise a run for her money.”

  Smiling her sweet, bewitching smile, Eanje charmed the man with her appearance of modesty. “The credit should go to him for his hard work. And many of the other teachers have helped, too.”

  Elspeth wagged a finger. “You are the one he talks about with enthusiasm. Only you took the time to find out why the normal methods wouldn’t work for him. You are an excellent teacher and it has been a real delight working for – I mean, with – you.”

  “Aye, lass. No one has ever valued Elspeth so much, either. You have transformed our lives.”

  And so it went on and on, as though Gaia herself had schemed that he would see each of these testimonials.
r />   Now, watching Lyran being nicer to her than he had been in a long while, Jarl wondered what had changed from his cousin’s point of view. Senna plastered on a neutral expression, but not before a frown revealed her true feelings.

  Shayla’s satisfaction suggested she had a hand in the change of attitude, confirmed when she announced their plan to have an hour’s “fun” in the spirit of the Feast of Friends.

  All the babes had settled down for an afternoon nap, and he asked Lyran and Senna if they would mind staying while he treated Quinn to a wee dram of the whiskey he and Bryce had been brewing. He wasn’t surprised when they agreed.

  “Come on, then. What’s on your mind?” Quinn settled back on the log, trying to get comfortable against the rough wall in the den Jarl had created deep in the wood, away from prying eyes.

  “I want an honest opinion. If you were me, would you let Senna go back to Lyran?”

  “Today. Or maybe tomorrow. When is the anniversary of your handfasting?”

  Jarl widened his eyes. “Oh my word. I had quite forgotten that.”

  “That’s telling in itself. If you were half as in love with Senna as I am with Shayla, the date would be fixed in your brain, and you would be doing something every year to celebrate it.”

  “You shame me. Last year was so fraught.”

  Quinn stopped him. “Everyone has an excuse for last year. Nothing about it was normal. But now …”

  “I take your point. Everything should have settled down. And yet …”

  “How can you be in the first flush of love with a woman who denies your needs?”

  “What? How can you possibly know that?”

  “Are you suggesting you cannot tell when Shayla and I enjoy each other’s bodies? Not as often as we would like, but …”

  Jarl grinned. “I have not noticed the cot creaking as often as it did at the start. I thought maybe you waited till after I slept.”

  “Then we would never do it. No, we throw the skins directly on the floor. It is good to know we do not disturb your sleep.”