The Blooded Ones

by Elizabeth Brown

  She sighed when he suddenly pulled back, his eyes glazed and his lips parted slightly open. It was as if he saw her for the first time, and then he clutched her close and buried his face into her hair.

  “Morgan?” she whispered, confused at his abrupt change. He was shaking as he held her, but he would not let her draw away to see his face. His voice finally emerged, grated and hoarse against her ear.

  “Go home, Kyra. Go now, before I canna let you leave,” he said.

  “I’m no child to be ordered about,” she replied. She didn’t want to go—everything had changed between them.

  He took her face into his hands, swallowing hard before he spoke.

  “Aye, yer no child. And if ye dinna leave now, I’ll forget we’re supposed to be friends. Get ye gone, go home.”

  “Is that what I am to you? Only a friend?” she asked, feeling her heart shatter into pieces. All the years she had spent trying to grow up as fast as she could for him, so that they could be together again without judgment, and he looked upon her as only his…friend. She felt her cheeks redden and she squinted hard to block the rush of tears.

  “It’s not that–”

  “Fine. Just forget this ever happened!” she shot back. She twisted away from him and climbed out of the pool as gracefully as she could muster. Her clothes were up above on the hillside, and it would be a climb to recover them.

  “What are you doing here, cousin?”

  When she raised her eyes it was to meet the dark stare of Ahi Kekeleksu, and by his stance she could see he was uncertain of what to do with her. She sloshed from the water and crossed her arms over her bodice, trying to avoid her older cousin’s inquisitive gaze. Even worse, behind him were Iain and Tyr, both with an equally perplexed look upon their faces. The young men were bare-chested in their braies, only seconds away from shedding the last of their clothes before they spotted her.

  “I was swimming. Now I’m leaving,” she snapped, brushing past Keke. She felt some remorse over treating him so brusquely, but her cheeks were burning like cinders at the way Morgan refused her and it was all she could think of to get as far away from him as possible. All the years she had loved him, all the years he had waited. Finally, when she was old enough to matter to him, he cast her away without so much as an explanation.

  Keke grabbed her upper arm. He was gentle, but his gaze darted from her to Morgan, who was still waist-deep in the water.

  “Why are you upset?” Keke asked. He spoke close to her ear, low enough so that the conversation was between only the two of them. “Did Morgan ah, um, trouble you?”

  “No. I am fine, and I thank ye for taking yer hand off me!” she hissed. “He’d rather swim alone, I’m just doing ye all a favor. Be off with ye, do what it is ye men do.”

  He dropped his hand away and his gaze shifted back to Morgan.

  “Very well,” he agreed. “Go home then, cousin.” Keke tapped her on the chin with his fist, and with a grin and a shrug he left her side to leap into the creek.

  As she left the sandy bank, the sounds of laughter and splashing chased her back to her senses.

  It had been a mistake to show Morgan how she felt. An enormous, devastating mistake.

  CHAPTER 16

  Winn

  “HOW DO WE FARE?” Winn asked.

  Erich glanced at the women before he answered, watching for a moment as they tended to their preparations for the gathering. The village was full with guests from multiple places, English and Nansemond alike. Winn intended to throw a productive celebration that would strengthen ties between them all. The future of his family depended on the alliances made, and he would not fail in his task.

  “Good, my lord,” Erich replied. “Enough to feed our guests and enough to keep our bellies full as well. Have ye heard if Pepamhu’s tribe will stay?”

  “Yes,” Winn said. “There are not many, but they will join us.”

  Maggie smiled as they approached. She continued stirring the food she prepared, which was likely some sort of venison stew from the delicious scent filling the air. Gwen added a bowl of sliced carrots, which slid into the pot with a splash.

  “Will ye send Kyra to Basse’s Choice, or will ye wait until they wed?”

  Winn shook his head. “She will stay here. John Basse will have a church wedding, so he says it must be. We will take Kyra there when they wed.”

  “Chetan says the Christians will Baptize ye in yer sleep if ye doona say ye love their White Christ – should I lay with my sword, then, just to be ready?” Erich demanded.

  “Ah, Chetan tells tales. John Basse may push you in the river to make you Christian, but he willna bother your sleep,” Winn laughed.

  Maggie dropped her ladle. Instead of picking it up, she wiped a hand over her flushed face and left the Northern Hall. Gwen raised her brows but said nothing, and Erich shook his head with a sigh. Winn knew Maggie was opposed to Kyra’s marriage, but the time had come to face it.

  Kyra would marry John Basse and join their families. They would all leave the village and join with the Christians at Basse’s Choice. Winn had arranged the match when Kyra was twelve, and now that she was nearly seventeen, he intended to honor it.

  Winn found Maggie alone by the edge of the meadow sitting cross-legged on the ground. By the stiff outline of her back and the method with which she yanked random fistfuls of grass from the earth her mood was evident. As he stood behind her he let out a shallow sigh, giving her a moment to collect her thoughts before he pressed his intent. For all her strengths and faults there was one constant in his wife, and that certainty was that she hated being forced into anything. Most times they could come to an agreement, negotiate a truce. This time, however, was different.

  There would be no other option. Kyra would do her duty. Maggie would abide. He could give his wife no choice this time.

  “You didn’t have to run after me,” she said quietly without looking up. She resumed tearing at the grass, tossing each handful away as she liberated it from the ground.

  “I walked. There was no running,” he replied. He slowly sank down beside her. When she uttered a doubtful snort but gave no further resistance, he took that as a sign she would listen. “Does it make you feel better, doing that?” he asked.

  “No,” she murmured. He covered her hand with his when she reached for the grass again and she stilled, keeping her chin tucked down. Placing her hand carefully between his palms, he rubbed the dirt from her skin. She did not move away so he continued to hold her, pulling her gently toward him. When their shoulders touched, she let out a sigh and he felt her body relax against his. He smiled.

  “Tell me a story about the future. There must be some things that stay the same,” he said.

  “Nothing is the same. It’s completely different,” she muttered. He grunted his disbelief, which brought a smile to her lips, so he took the opportunity to put his arm around her shoulder. Her head dipped down and she immediately snuggled into his chest.

  “Ah, I do not believe that. What about the sky? Does the moon still shine at night, or does the future only have sunshine? Go on, tell me,” he urged.

  To his relief, he felt her shudder with a muffled giggle. He closed his fingers on her chin and tilted her head up as she laughed.

  “What is so funny?” he demanded with a smirk. He loved to hear her laugh. There had been few reasons to smile of late and he would do anything to see the glow of her happiness once again.

  “Oh, it’s just an old saying. I couldn’t possibly tell you there’s no moon in the future. It’s like blowing sunshine up your – up your ass!” she laughed. She shook so hard that tears spilled from her eyes and he could not help but laugh along with her once he gleaned her meaning.

  “Blow sunshine up my ass? Is that the way women speak to their men in the future?”

  She hiccupped as she struggled to control her giggles.

  “It’s just a funny saying, that’s all.” Her fingers twisted into his tunic and she sank back down int
o his arms. Her laughter faded. “Of course there’s a moon at night. The sky is pretty much the same, I suppose.”

  He pressed his lips to her forehead, kissing her gently as her voice grew wistful. It would make her feel better to speak of the life she once lived, and he enjoyed hearing her tales of the future.

  “The moon seems brighter in the sky here, I think because there’s no light from the city. It’s easy to see the constellations.”

  “What meaning is that?” he murmured.

  “Constellations? It’s the word for the stars. Well, it’s more than that. The stars are in groups, and the groups are the constellations. See?” she replied, pointing out over the treetops. “That one that looks like a cup? Like it has a long handle? That’s the Big Dipper. One of the constellations.”

  He nodded. He knew other names for the spirits in the sky, but he wanted to hear what she called them.

  “And the bright one, you see the one all alone? Across the Big Dipper? That’s the Northern Star. It points the way.”

  “To where?”

  “Home. Marcus said he could always find his way home by it. His father taught him to navigate when they sailed. I didn’t know it back then, but he must have been talking about traveling on the long boats. It sounded amazing.”

  An ache surfaced in his chest at mention of his father. There was so much about Marcus that Winn would never know. He held no jealousy that Maggie had grown up in the care of his father, nor that he had lived his entire life bereft of the man. At least with Maggie’s memories, Winn could know Marcus better in some small way, and it was that thought that gave him comfort.

  “Those are things a man shares with his son. He gave you his trust.”

  “He was different then. I guess he was always a little old-fashioned, and he had weird ideas about everything. But he let me make decisions. He listened to me–and so did Grandpa. Whenever something important came up, we sat down and discussed it. As a family,” she said.

  “See? We talk, just the same as you did with Marcus,” Winn offered.

  He felt her stiffen in his arms then and her breathing slowed.

  “Marcus changed when he came here. He turned into a stubborn bully, and suddenly everyone is running around doing his bidding!” she replied. “Chief this, Chief that! It was like some stranger standing in his boots.”

  “He returned here as a Chief. It would change any man,” Winn said quietly. “He sacrificed everything to see you safe in the future. He was what you needed, when you needed him.”

  She twisted around to face him. Her slim throat tightened and contracted and he could feel her fingers grip his tunic.

  “And you? Has it changed you, being Chief? Do you expect me to obey your every command, to never question you?”

  His hand slipped up and he cupped her face in his palm, rubbing his thumb lightly over her cheek. Her green eyes blazed on the flicker of moonlight between them, her soft lips parted slightly open as she waited for his answer.

  “I will always hear you, ntehem,” he whispered. “I made you that promise. I will keep it.”

  “But Kyra–”

  “I hear you. I know this is not how you were raised. When you want to rage at me for making this choice, I only ask you think of who I am. How I have lived, here in this time.” She tried to dip her head down, but he held her face firmly in his hands. “John Basse is a good man. He will be a good husband to our daughter. And by making this match, our people–our family–will be safe. It is my duty to see it done. I cannot yield on this.”

  She leaned her forehead against his, closing her eyes, and her body tensed in his embrace.

  “So I have no say in this?” she replied.

  “You have my ear. But the decision must be mine.”

  “I want our daughter to have a choice.”

  “She will do as I bid her.”

  Maggie jerked away from him, but he caught her shoulders before she could flee. The stubborn anger flared like beacons within her, the last remnants of her resolve fighting to be heard.

  “As I will? So I must shut up and bear it?” she seethed.

  “Yes! As I will bear it! See me, Maggie,” he growled, his voice trailing off as he gripped her arms. “See me. I do what I must. There is no one for me to argue with, no man to tell me yea or nay. It is on my head that this rests, this decision. Perhaps I am failing my daughter–and my wife. Perhaps this will lead our people into danger.”

  She shook her head, but her eyes were riveted on his.

  “Yet I think this is right. I believe this is the best path. I do not know what your future was like, that place you came from, but I know what our future will be. It will be here, with these people. I must do what is right for us all. We must join with the English if we wish to survive.”

  He would not be swayed. His kissed her softly on her forehead and stood up, intending to return to his duties.

  “Winn?” she said quietly. He turned back to her. Arms wrapped around her knees, she looked up at him with her soft green eyes.

  “Yes?”

  “I told her this morning. She said she will do her duty.”

  He nodded. He wanted to say he expected nothing less from his daughter, but he did not think his wife needed that truth to be said. He left to join his men, giving his wife time to accept what she must.

  There had never been such a large gathering since Winn lived in the village, and he found it fitting that they would leave their home after the pleasure of a grand celebration. It was a diverse assortment of people, with Norse, the English, and the Nansemond sharing the space. Winn knew his efforts to live apart from the war cost him the loyalty of many of the Powhatan, but he was strong in his convictions. Change would come and his family would endure.

  A few of the Nansemond already lived at Basse’s Choice, more open to accepting the Christian ways than the Norse. John Basse was a devout man yet a patient one, and he believed that he was honoring his God by bringing more people into his fold. The Norse, however, were still suspicious, and it was not until after Kyra’s marriage that they would be willing to go. Winn knew he asked a great deal of his people by joining with the Christians. If they needed the promise of his daughter’s marriage to seal a commitment, then he was willing to give it to them.

  Winn stood up from his chair, raising up his carved drinking horn. It had once belonged to his father, and his father before him, and each time Winn held it he was reminded of those who came before him.

  “Hear me!” he shouted. The cries of celebration ebbed away with his declaration and head turned in attention.

  “Ja, Ja!” was returned in agreement by the Norsemen, rising above the expectant murmurs of the crowd.

  “Tonight we shall drink to the blessings bestowed upon us. This man, John Basse,” Winn announced, pointing to the Englishman in the crowd, “will wed my only daughter, the lovely Kyra Alfrun Neilsson!”

  His last words were muffled by the roar of the crowd, the sounds of Norsemen thumping the tables and smashing their tankards drowning him out. Winn did not mind. He grinned and finished his ale with one long swallow, sending the people into another chorus of joyous shouts.

  Winn knew he made the right choice when he saw Maggie lead Kyra to John’s side. There his wife placed Kyra’s hand into John’s, and Winn felt a surge of pride. He knew what it cost Maggie to concede her beliefs.

  “Winkeohkwet.”

  Winn glanced to his side at the sound of his name. Leaning heavily on his walking stick, Pepamhu joined him. Winn offered him his seat, which Pepamhu gratefully settled into, and Winn crouched down at his side as they watched the celebration.

  “Did you enjoy the Norse meal, father?” Winn asked. Pepamhu smiled at the endearment and nodded.

  “I did. Your Norse women may cook for me again.”

  Winn chuckled.

  “Though I fear this will be the last time our families share food,” Pepamhu said.

  “Why is that?” Winn asked, taken aback. It had already b
een decided that Pepamhu’s people would join the other Nansemond at Basse’s Choice. Winn was eager for the day his family would all be safe in one place.

  “Some Nansemond will stay here. But I will go north. We have friends with the Lenape who will welcome us.”

  “I thought you meant to stay,” Winn said, trying to keep his voice level. It was Pepamhu’s choice to make, but his decision still fell heavy on Winn’s ears.

  “At one time, I did. Now…now I see this is no longer our home. I wish you peace on your journey as it parts from mine, son.”

  Winn swallowed. His dry throat tightened.

  “I wish you peace, as well, father,” he said, his voice hoarse.

  Pepamhu placed a hand on his shoulder. They watched their people dance and eat, enjoying what was left of their time together.

  CHAPTER 17

  Maggie

  The edges of the shells felt like smooth rocks beneath her probing toes. She thrust her feet beneath the sand, delving deep into the shallow seawater pool. It was a spot she often found a nest of clams, and the thought of having a basket full of fresh seafood made her mouth moisten in anticipation. She dug one out with her big toe until it released from the sand with a faint sucking sound, popping up where she could snatch it with her fingers. She swished it around until the grey shell was clean, then tossed it in her basket which sat a few feet away on a flat rock. They would eat well tonight.

  The gathering took a toll on her. Winn stayed up with the men until the sun graced the sky, and she spent a sleepless night in their bed alone. With her worry over Kyra’s arranged marriage, it was probably best she had some time alone with her thoughts.

  She pushed her skirts up between her knees with one hand, holding the layers in one fist as she bent to snatch another clam from the pool. Too engrossed in digging out her dinner, she did not hear Winn until he was well up upon her. She let out a squeal as he swept her up off her feet and deposited her firmly on her backside on the rock beside her basket.