Men In Chains

by Virginia Reede

  Grenda was visibly taken aback by Beteria’s uncharacteristic rancor. Having no planned response for this unexpected antagonism, she could only grumble, “Go ahead then. Though I doubt ye’ve got anything to tell worth repeatin’ to Bloduewedd.”

  “I would not be so sure,” said Beteria haughtily. She paused, savoring the anticipation of watching Grenda’s sullen expression change when she heard what she was about to reveal. “I have overheard Delinda telling one of the men—the outlander, in fact—she has a plan to regain her ancestral title of Rahntadrine.” She felt satisfaction as Grenda flushed and struggled, unsuccessfully, for words. She went on, “So she can destroy the Eye of the Goddess!”

  Beteria stood back and watched Grenda consider the implications of what she had been told. Though not quick-witted, Grenda was more than able to comprehend how angry Bloduewedd would be to learn Delinda planned to supplant her. Given a few more seconds, she would realize what the threat of the destruction of the Eye and the loss of the dark rahnta would mean to the Reliants. Grenda did not disappoint her. When realization dawned, her expression turned from surprised to crafty—and even gleeful. She turned and made as if to run.

  “I must get to me horse and tell the Ra-drine!” she exclaimed, trying to shake off the hand Beteria shot out to restrain her.

  “Wait! I must come with you to help plan what to do,” she said.

  “No!” Grenda finally managed to pull her arm free. “If ye disappear, they’ll be suspicious. Ye have to act as if nothin’ has changed.” She grinned evilly. “And be ready to get out of the way when the arrows start to fly and the swords start to sing!” Grenda crashed off through the underbrush.

  Beteria ran a few steps after her but was no match for the stronger woman. In any case, as the meaning of Grenda’s parting words struck her, she stopped as if turned to stone. Arrows and swords! Grenda assumed Bloduewedd would order an immediate attack.

  And she is right. Beteria had hoped to go along and help her mother plan her strategy. She could now see this had been foolhardy.

  Beteria could envision it as clear as day. Mother would react in the most ruthless way possible. With proof of treason, she would have the right to have Grenda muster her soldiers for the stated purpose of capturing and imprisoning Delinda, and holding her for trial.

  But that would not be enough for the Rahntadrine. She would want blood, and she would know how to get it. She would inflame the Reliants by using their fear of losing the dark Rahnta. Beteria had observed how her mother used this fear to keep them compliant. She had little doubt Bloduewedd would now turn that fear to another use.

  It would be a massacre. Delinda and the others were not prepared to meet an armed assault. She thought of Letta’s endless good humor, Jeryl’s patience with his students and most of all Duwall’s face—not as it had been this afternoon, but as she had seen it this morning when he lay sleeping in her bed as the light of dawn crept through her window. They could all be killed and it will be my fault!

  She collapsed on the trail, mindless of the ruin of her trousers. “What have I done?” she whispered. “What have I done?”

  * * * * *

  “Letta, are you all right?” asked Delinda. Korin had just arrived for what had become a customary weekly visit, and Letta had not come out to greet the wagon as she usually did. Delinda found her in the scullery, obviously having just been sick in one of the washing basins. Letta was dashing cold water on her face, which was pale, but smiled at Delinda.

  “I’m absolutely fine, Delinda,” she said. “I’m sorry I wasn’t out there to direct the unloading of the wagon.” At Korin’s suggestion, all Delinda’s orders from town merchants were delivered to Korin’s store, and Korin usually brought anything that had arrived since market day with her.

  “Ostyn has already seen to it,” replied Delinda. “I can see you are ill. Come sit down and I will get you some tea.”

  “There is really not a thing wrong,” said Letta, but she obediently followed Delinda into the kitchen and seated herself at the table. Korin came in and, seeing the color of Letta’s face, swiftly joined her.

  “My dear, you have been working too hard!” said Korin, taking Letta’s hand.

  “Really, both of you, I am fine!” protested Letta. “It is just that…” She looked up at the concerned faces and smiled brilliantly. “I am going to have a baby!”

  “That’s wonderful!” exclaimed Korin, jumping up to hug the younger woman. “I am so pleased.” She turned to face Delinda. “It seems your plan is working exactly as you had hoped.”

  Having brought the tea, Delinda sat down as well. “I am very happy for you Letta,” she said, and she meant it sincerely. She knew that in her mother’s day, women of Letta’s age had usually already had at least one child, and often as many as two or three. Now every pregnancy was an event to be celebrated, and based on what she had observed, there would be a number of similar events to rejoice before long—including her own.

  “I cannot wait to see the twins’ faces,” said Korin, her eyes dancing. “They have been boasting they will be pregnant within the moon’s cycle.”

  “Yet they will be delighted for me,” said Letta. “Because it proves men who have been under the influence of the dark rahnta all their lives can still sire children, once that influence is removed.”

  “Yes,” said Delinda. “And by spring we will be overrun with babies. That is one of the reasons I have called this afternoon’s meeting.”

  Korin looked at her curiously—this was the first she had heard about a meeting.

  “It is about phase three of the plan,” Delinda went on. “It is going to be necessary to start working on it soon.”

  “Yes, I imagine it is important you become Rahntadrine before winter sets in,” said Korin.

  Delinda gaped, astonished. So far, she had revealed phase three only to Jeryl. How could Korin have found out?

  Korin laughed at her expression. “Do not look so shocked, Delinda. To anyone who understands your beliefs, it becomes obvious you must become Rahntadrine before babies start to arrive.”

  “Obvious?” asked Delinda, mystified.

  “Of course,” said Korin. “You would never let any male babies be taken from their mothers and traded.”

  “Oh!” said Letta, as her hand flew to her still-flat belly. She had apparently not considered that if her child was a boy, tradition said she must give it up.

  “Also,” Korin went on, “I assume your belief that men should be treated as equals includes the assertion they have a right to be involved in the raising of their own children, be they daughters or sons. Bloduewedd would never tolerate such a thing if she remained in power.”

  “Yes, I do believe that,” said Delinda, thinking of Jeryl. “If, of course, the men wish it.”

  “Ostyn wishes it,” said Letta. “I know he does.”

  “And of course,” said Korin, grasping Delinda’s hand and looking at her directly, “you want all this taken care of before you become so heavy with your own child that you cannot travel as you will need to.”

  “Delinda!” squealed Letta. Now it was her turn to hug her employer. “Why did you not tell me?”

  “Korin!” said Delinda, aghast. She shook her head. “Is there nothing about me you do not know?”

  “Quite a lot, I would imagine,” said Korin placidly. “But you forget something, Delinda. We have joined our rahnta. Whenever we touch, we can sense one another’s power.” Delinda nodded. The familiar tingle when they hugged or joined hands had become so commonplace she barely thought about it. “When you became with child, the feeling of your power altered. Then you started asking me questions about unbidden surges of rahnta and the answer was obvious.”

  “Is it Jeryl’s?” asked Letta excitedly. “I always thought perhaps you and he—”

  “Yes,” said Delinda. “But please do not mention it to him. Jeryl does not yet know.”

  “Jeryl does not yet know what?” said a voice from the doorway.
The three women turned to find Jeryl standing in the kitchen doorway, holding an empty mug.

  Delinda was about to stammer an excuse when Korin broke in smoothly. “About Letta and Ostyn’s good news.”

  “Yes!” said Letta, happy to help relieve the awkwardness. “I am having a baby.”

  “Congratulations!” said Jeryl, smiling heartily. He strode across the room and hugged Letta, lifting her off her feet and spinning her around. “That is wonderful news. I knew something was going on with Ostyn—he has been tripping over his own feet for three days.”

  “He wanted to tell you,” said Letta, laughing as Jeryl set her back on her feet. “But I said I wanted Korin to be the first one to know.”

  “Is it still a secret or can I go out to the stables and be the first to shake his hand?” asked Jeryl.

  Delinda watched his face curiously. He seemed genuinely happy about Letta’s child, and there was no indication he thought the situation was less than respectable. This seemed quite at odds with his attitude in their conversation of two days before. Perhaps I can tell him. The next time we have a moment alone together.

  “Go ahead. I was going to announce it at the meeting this afternoon anyway, so the entire estate will know by nightfall,” said Letta, and Jeryl rushed out to congratulate Ostyn. Once he had left, Letta and Korin turned back to Delinda.

  “Why have you not told him?” asked Letta. “He will be thrilled.”

  “I would not be so sure of that,” said Delinda. “We have spoken about the customs of parenthood in his land and they are quite different than here.”

  “Whatever his customs, he is going to find out eventually,” said Korin. “Your condition will be obvious to everyone before long.”

  “I know,” said Delinda. “And I intend to tell him. But you must let me do it in my own way, I beg of you.”

  “Of course,” said Korin, and Letta nodded in agreement.

  * * * * *

  Delinda looked around at the sea of faces. The estate’s great hall, which had seemed so enormous when she had first arrived, could now barely hold all the employees, both male and female, that were living and working at the estate. The chairs and sofas had all been filled and many people sat on the floor.

  As Delinda waited for the final stragglers to come in, she noticed Duwall, who was leaning against the wall near the library door. His usually pleasant face held a scowl. She looked around for Lora, who was seldom more than a few feet from Duwall’s side unless their duties forced a separation. She was surprised to find that young lady seated on the opposite side of the room, positioned where a large chair hid her from Duwall’s view. Her head was bowed so her dark hair hid most of her face, but Delinda detected a glint of moisture on her cheek, as if she had been crying.

  Delinda caught Jeryl’s eye, then nodded toward Duwall with a questioning look. Jeryl followed her gaze to Duwall’s brooding countenance then, understanding her question, shrugged. The two must have had a disagreement of some sort. Delinda made a mental note to look into the matter after the meeting. Korin, seated at the front, gave her a nod of encouragement, and she turned to address the crowd.

  “Thank you all for interrupting your work in the lovely hot sunshine to come sit in this dismal hall and listen to me today,” she began, to a chorus of appreciative chuckles. “But before I begin, I believe someone has an announcement to make.” She turned to Letta, who jumped to her feet eagerly, dragging a less enthusiastic Ostyn.

  Letta smiled to the group, but instead of speaking she gave Ostyn a small nudge. Blushing deeply, he turned to face his friends. “We wanted to let you all know that Letta—” He broke off at another nudge from that lady. “I mean that we are going to have a baby.”

  Shouts of delight greeted this announcement, and almost every woman in the room jumped up and ran to hug Letta. Some of the men pounded Ostyn on the back, but many of the newcomers looked confused. The birth of a child traditionally had little impact on the man who sired it. Delinda noticed their perplexed expressions, and when the crowd settled and the happy couple returned to their seat, she continued.

  “I am very happy for both Letta and Ostyn, and their news has a great deal to do with why I have asked you to be here this afternoon. “If I am not mistaken in my observation of the nighttime comings and goings between the various rooms upstairs and in the annex,” more chuckles greeted this, along with a number of significant looks exchanged between various men and women, “this is probably only the first in a long line of similar announcements over the coming months.

  “Although many of you are thinking how wonderful it would be to be in Letta’s position right now, I am sure at least some of you have also thought about what would happen if you were to find yourself with child, only to have to part with that child because it is not a daughter.” The room became silent and every eye was on Delinda. Even Lora lifted her chin, causing the hair to fall away from her tear-ravaged face. “I will make you a promise this afternoon. No woman in my employ shall ever be asked to give up her male child.” There were several sharp intakes of breath and a loud murmuring broke out.

  “What is more,” continued Delinda loudly, after which she paused to let the voices die down. She walked to stand behind Ostyn and Letta, who were sitting on a sofa to the side of where she was speaking. “What is more, any man who fathers a child,” Delinda put deliberate emphasis on the seldom-heard word, “will be given the chance to help raise that child, if he wishes to do so.” She placed her hands on Ostyn’s shoulders as she spoke. Tears of gratitude filled his eyes and Letta squeezed his hand. At this statement, the sound of excited muttering filled the room. Duwall had abandoned his casual posture and was standing erect, the scowl gone from his face. He appeared to be searching for Lora but she had not abandoned her position behind the chair. Apparently frustrated, he turned and noticed Delinda watching him.

  “How will you do it?” he shouted above the animated voices, causing many people to stop talking and turn to see who was speaking. As the voices died and more faces turned toward him, Delinda pretended not to have heard, so he would have to repeat his question. She had been expecting it from someone, and she wanted to make sure everyone heard it. And her answer.

  “How will you prevent the Rahntadrine from forcing the women to give up their sons?” said Duwall. “With all due respect, Delinda, Bloduewedd will try to prevent you from carrying this out.”

  “There is no actual law that says a woman is required to give up her male child,” said Delinda. “The Rahntadrine may encourage people to follow a long-held tradition, but she really has no authority to force them to do it.”

  “Her soldiers are all the authority she needs,” said Duwall, drawing comments of agreement from the crowd. “And the Reliants will do anything she asks of them, as well.”

  Delinda was not dismayed at the doubt she saw beginning to cloud the faces of her listeners. She had known they would fear Bloduewedd’s reaction and had decided to confront this fear rather than make light of it. In fact, this approach had been Jeryl’s idea.

  “When I was about to take my men into danger,” he had told her as they sat on the sofa the night before, “I always did so openly and honestly. I even let them know when I was personally afraid of the challenges before us.”

  “Did that not make them even more afraid?” Delinda had asked. She loved to watch his face when he talked of his life as the captain of his own ship. How he must have loved being a leader of men, and loved the sea itself.

  “On the contrary, it made them more determined to face their fears, knowing I was willing to do the same,” he said. “Men—people—are willing to fight for something if they believe they are all in it together, as opposed to just being used as pawns to gain the outcome desired by their leader.”

  He had turned to Delinda and taken her hands in his, causing her heart to beat so strongly she had to concentrate hard to hear his words. “Make them understand it is for them you must be Rahntadrine, not for your own personal g
lory or ambition. After all, that is the truth, is it not?” As she looked into his eyes, she had wanted so badly to tell him of the child that grew in her body—his child. She wondered if it would have those beautiful green eyes. She hoped so.

  She brought herself back to the present and realized that she had been silent for a little too long, increasing the anxiety of her listeners. Jeryl was looking at her expectantly, for it was he who had helped her plan what she would say next.

  “Do not be so sure of the Reliants, Duwall,” she said. “There is one thing they all want that Bloduewedd has been unable to give them. And we know how they can get it.” She looked at Korin, who had been given her cue earlier in the kitchen.

  “She’s right, you know. They come into my store all the time,” she said. “All they ever talk about is having a baby. If they find out Delinda is able to run her estate without using the dark Rahnta, with the result that women here are getting pregnant, they might be willing to listen to what she has to say.”

  “A few of them, maybe,” argued Duwall stubbornly. “But not all of them, and not until they see a lot more than one pregnancy.”

  “Oh, I expect there will be more than one,” said Jeryl, surprising Delinda. He had not planned to speak, but Duwall’s arguments were being a bit better received than they had hoped. “Perhaps sooner than you think.”

  Delinda’s cheeks colored. Had he guessed? But she did not have time to consider this startling idea, and continued.

  “But Duwall is right about one thing. Bloduewedd will hate the idea of breaking tradition, and she will be more jealous than happy about a new rash of pregnancies.” This agreement seemed to mollify Duwall, who resumed his position against the wall.