3. Uncle. Did you guess? Yep, that’s right, it was Ranly all along, despite efforts to put in more red herrings and twists than a twisty-turny red thing. One that smells of fish.
4. Eanje. What a hero. Who knew? The whole thing with her not drinking the potion? Senna and Jarl fell on her, both bleeding so their blood mingled. Capisce?
That’s about it for now. Unless, of course, you have a burning question. If so, you can Ask Lyran (he wants to trademark it!) by contacting the author.
And the wrong lyric word? I could tell you, but then I’d have to … you can guess the rest.
~~***~~
Has he gone? *peeks down the corridor*
Yep. Sorry about that, folks, but I had to be sure Cal was out of the way because, poor lamb, he still doesn’t know the full 411. I am so toast when he finally finds out.
I digress. It’s Lyran, btw. You know, famous last-word merchant. I always do the last dance, but this year, someone told me … who doesn’t recognise a Dirty Dancing quote when they see one?
“LYRAN!!!”
Oops. My bad.
Here’s the deal. Everyone (including you, dear reader), has to think Senna, Jarl and Eanje were proper dead, throats slit and everything. Which put people like Cal, Shayla and Quinn in a real awkward position. Lyrelie knew the full deal – we had little choice, she was onto us.
Here’s the Columbo/Poirot/Hustle reveal of how it actually went down. First, you may want click below to revisit chapter 8 where it talks about “Eanje’s Mummering skills,” and re-read a page or five.
To return here, click on ~*~ at end of section.
All done? Ok. Here it is. **Spoiler Alert!**
As Senna distracted Shayla and Quinn, Jarl added extra ingredients to the other three goblets which lower the heart rate and temperature, leading to a kind of stasis. The multi-purpose potion, in addition to the genetically modified (by Gaia) blood, contained mild sedative ingredients to facilitate the portal transfer. This put Shayla and Quinn in a suggestible state, allowing me to ease them through the whole clear-up process.
As Domenyk took his final pleasure of Eanje, he breathed in sufficient of her perfume for the powerful herbs (valerian, lemon balm) to disorient him such that he wasn’t paying much attention to the scarves (see below), or when she swapped his knife for a blunted one.
The flesh-coloured scarves Eanje and Senna wore included a pouch of blood which burst open under pressure. Beneath that they wore a protective sleeve, treated to resist a blade. Under his tunic, Jarl had a toughened hide and another one of those pouches … Not dead, just stasis.
It’s a jolly good job I got an insight into the manner of the deaths and Eanje has such awesome stagecraft skills.
That truly is it. This book has more false endings than an eighties horror movie. But not quite as many as anything from the Marvel stable. Yep, that’s right, Ms Gray is a huge fan of both. I’ll hand you over to her.
~~***~~
Dear Reader,
Thank you so much for reading this story; I hope you enjoyed reading it at least half as much as I enjoyed writing it.
If you did, I’d really appreciate if you could let others know what was good/bad about it by leaving a comment.
Thank you
Jacky Gray
I would love to hear your suggestions and am happy to answer your questions via the newsletter or on Facebook.
Glossary
Albion
Ancient word for Great Britain
Altar cake
Cakes to ground energies after ceremony
Archdruid
Chief Druid who leads rituals
Barding
Contest to find best poet/singer/tale-teller
Battle bundle
Mixture of herbs to heal wounds/stop pain
Beltane
Mayday – celebration on 1st May
Blandish
Flattery
Bonfiring
Ceremony to bless the fields for new season
Caitiff
Knave, rascal, reprobate, rogue, scoundrel
Caul
Fancy headdress, usually netting
Chemise
Loose cotton (under) shirt
Clove-gifting
Celebration giving gift to the poor/homeless
Colcannon
Mashed potatoes with cabbage and leeks
Connexion
Romantic connection
Medicine made by placing crystals in water
Dais
Raised platform or stage
Daub
Mud/clay applied to wattles to form walls
Esbat
Celebration of the Moon
Faggot
Collection of twigs used for kindling a fire
Handfasting
Marriage ceremony
Herfest
Autumn Equinox (Harvest) – 21st Sept
Holly King
Reigns during Winter
Hooden horse
Terrifying beast used by mummers
Imbolc
Candlemas – 1st February
Litha
Midsummer Solstice – 21st June
Lughnasadh
Lammas – harvest festival – 1st August
Magister
An official with training in the law
Mammettes
Dolls, wooden or made from rags or clay
Michael line
Ley line which runs across the country
Moon flux
A woman’s monthly bleed (menses)
Mummer
Travelling actor
Ostara
Spring Equinox (Easter) – 21st March
Pike
Tool/weapon with pointed metal head
Poultice
Mixture of herbs in a bread-based paste
Sabbat
Celebration of the Sun
Samhain
Halloween –31st October
Settle
A wooden sofa for two or three people
Sluice pail
For rinsing hands
Smutch
Cuddle/kiss (smooch)
Snood
Net covering hair
Solstice
When the sun is at its extreme
Sunwise
Swaddling
Thin sheet used to wrap new-born babies
Tabard
Sleeveless jacket, worn over a tunic
Terce
3rd hour bell – mid-morning (9am)
Tithe
Charitable donation to poor/church
Tithing
Band of ten men (families) responsible for local law & order; report to the constable.
Thrawl
A stone enclosure used to keep things cold
Tunic
Like a shirt or jumper
Unguent/salve
A healing ointment/lotion
Vespers
12th hour bell – end of day (6pm)
Villeins
The lowest serf – oft used as hired thugs
Wassailing
Wassail (also Waes Hael) is a spiced cider
Widdershins
Anticlockwise
Yule
Winter Solstice – 21st December
Acknowledgements
Thank you to everyone who has helped me to believe in myself – without you, my stories would never have lived outside of my imagination and my computer’s hard drive.
Special thanks to the following – you know the part you played and words cannot express my gratitude: Joanne, Icy, Kate, Sheila, Jean, Karen, Emily, Janice, Kim, Veronica and Alice. Even when you think it’s good, there’s always room for improvement – grateful thanks for your excellent wisdom and advice to my awesome Beta readers, Bernie, Corine, Avis, Nadine, Norma, and Emma. Also to Linda, Chris, Eva, Ingrid, Alfred and especially Avis for great name suggestions – lots
of them made it into this story. And a huge thanks to the lovely World Wise Writers and 10K Angels for their constant support and encouragement.
But the biggest thanks have to go to you, dear reader.
Thank You
FREE DOWNLOAD – Bonus Extras
The soundtrack to the book.
More info about the cast.
A short story about the events which kicked it all off.
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Nature’s Tribe #4
Thirteen Esbats of the Moon
Jacky Gray
Notes for the reader:
Because this is set in medieval Britain, there are several words you may need to look up in the glossary, e.g. they use moon instead of month. Hopefully most are self-explanatory.
Jarl is pronounced like Jar (plus the l)
Eanje has a silent E, pronounced Angie.
Being 4th in the series means a rather large cast – if you get a little lost, there’s a list at the back showing the “family” groups.
To Kate, Avis, Nadine, Sheila, Norma, Bernie, Corine, and Joanne. Without your inspiration, this story would not have the wonderful cast of strong, powerful women.
Contents
Prologue – The Dark of the Moon
1 – New Moon
2 – Crescent Moon
3 – Waxing Moon
4 – Full Moon
5 – Waning Moon
6 – Seed Moon – April
7 – Flower Moon – May
8 – Honey Moon – June
9 – Blessing Moon – July
10 – Corn Moon – August
11 – Harvest Moon – September
12 – Blood Moon – October
13 – Blue Moon – October
14 – Mourning Moon – November
15 – Oak Moon – December
16 – Wolf Moon – January
17 – Snow Moon – February
18 – Storm Moon – March
Epilogue: A Medieval Utopia
List of Main Tithings
Glossary
Prologue – The Dark of the Moon
Dark moon: Not a good time for spell casting, it is more a time for facing inward and learning to love yourself.
Spring 1349
Lyrelie
Lyrelie held back the tears as she covered the bodies of the latest couple in the village to submit to the awful pestilence which had swept the country, indeed the continent, like wildfire.
Somehow, she had managed to stay composed to lead the short blessing ceremony. As she bent to anoint the forehead of their oldest lad, a drop of moisture fell on his cheek. By the time she repeated the act for his youngest sister, barely two years old, Lyrelie’s tears fell freely.
Cal, her husband, hugged her, murmuring comforting words. Then he took one hand and Verat the other.
Freya, her best friend, held her husband’s other hand as the four friends formed a semi-circle around the five bodies. This time, the portal opened with such a whoosh of energy they felt it. The reason became clear as, on the other side, the entire village had turned out to help ease the transfer of the popular constable and his family.
As was customary, they passed over the sacks containing provisions for the journey hence, limited to a couple of changes of clothing and any tools the couple would need for their trade. This meant Marena’s healing bag with freshly-made stocks of lotions and potions. Dennon had to leave behind the armour and weapons he had accumulated as a soldier. Instead, he had packed the woodworking tools he would need as the main fletcher.
Making her way back to the village, Lyrelie found it hard to believe the entire episode would soon be over. She mused that everything, including the monstrous magister’s perilous plot to murder her parents, had been part of Gaia’s scheme to redress the imbalance.
After he died, her father, Lyran, had spoken with the Earth Goddess who was upset by the way mankind wilfully destroyed the planet she had provided for them. After centuries of too many people wasting precious resources with no thought for their renewal, Gaia had seen enough, sending a pestilent plague to ravish the population.
Deciding to give certain people a second chance, Gaia had provided another world for them to live on – a world free from this plague. A world where the chosen ones could live according to their beliefs, harnessing the power of the earth in a benign fashion which did not result in the death of the planet.
Under Lyran’s instruction, Lyrelie’s mother, Senna, created a potion to combat the effects of the pestilence and ease the transfer to the other place, but it required a beaker of blood for every cauldron.
Both parents had a special ingredient in their bodies and, being their daughter, she had a concentration of the element. As a result of her parents’ deaths, a portal had been opened in the longbarrow just outside the village. A portal which allowed apparent victims of the great pestilence to be transported to this new place.
Tonight, after the full moon’s energy helped complete the potion, the remaining villagers, including the four friends, would join their families to live in harmony with this new world.
1 – New Moon
New moon: The Maiden phase of the moon is good for spells to do with growth. Call on Phersphone for help.
September 1348
Eanje
Waking up to the warmth of the sun on her face filled Eanje with something akin to awe. Despite all the careful preparations, a small part of her could not quite believe it would all work as they had planned.
Lyran had obviously given some thought to their first moments in this new world, and the sun felt symbolic of a new start. She smiled as she realised the hard floor beneath the sheepskin belonged to a stone building with narrow windows. A building which could only be the village church – somewhere she rarely visited in the other world.
When reason set in, it made sense the only structures still standing in this world would be made of stone, like the church. She speculated that, if a woman had been responsible for the transfer, she might have awoken in the moon circle, with pale moonlight silvering the scene.
Tentatively propping herself up, she spotted two other bodies lying a little way off, flooded with sunlight from the next window. Senna and Jarl. As yet, they showed no sign of awakening.
“Eanje. Thank Gaia. I had begun to think it hadn’t worked.”
She spun around, instantly regretting the sudden movement as her head protested. Lyran sat on a stone bench, positioned so he could watch all three of them.
“Careful. You should move gently. Your body may take a while to adjust after the recent traumas.”
Dozens of questions fought for supremacy in her mind, but she had learnt the wisdom of taking a moment to evaluate her surroundings before opening her mouth. Something which had benefitted her on more than one occasion. She had no need to ask if they were in the new world; Lyran’s solid form confirmed the fact. When he first contacted her, requesting help, he had appeared in her dreams and thoughts. She had been sceptical, demanding proof, and he tried manifesting in an attempt to convince her, but never got much further than a transparent version of himself.
Her immediate impulse was to quench the thirst which dried her throat. Somehow, he knew, offering her a rough clay beaker. He suggested she sipped slowly, letting the water moisten her parched lips, only swallowing a tiny bit.
Despite adhering to his advice, she had no control over the instinctive reaction to void the contents of her stomach. Again, he anticipated, offering a deep earthenware dish and a damp linen rag to clean and refresh her face.
The deep red colour and metallic smell reminded Eanje of her final moments of being alive in the other world. Skipping past Domenyk’s brutal, hurried use of her body, she gave thanks for the efficacy of Lyran’s design. Under his direction she had made the leather sleeves for her and Senna which had protected their throats.
Her hand fluttered to her neck which, instead of being slit by the monster, merely a
ched.
“I have applied some salve, but it may bruise. Your invention worked perfectly; fooling him into believing he had delivered a fatal slice.”
How typical of Lyran to credit her. If ever a man had no need of glory, it was he. She grimaced. “Mediterranean audiences demand more than a mere red scarf symbolising blood when their mummers die on stage.”
“I imagine the sight of pig’s blood would sate their thirst for horror. But I should not disparage, it served our purpose well.”
Before he could explore further, Jarl awoke, choking. Lyran instantly administered fresh water, dish and linen.
“Gah, I’ve a foul taste in my mouth. Have you no ale for me?” The soldier’s curse echoed around the church.
His cousin suggested anything he drank would make an immediate return journey. “Give it time, man. It would be a waste of good ale, if only we had some.”
“What in Gaia’s name have you and Bryce been up to which is more important than brewing ale?” Jarl’s comical outrage all but drowned out Senna’s subtle stirring.
Lyran rushed to tend to her body’s reaction to the difficult journey, intensified by Senna’s concern for the welfare of the babe growing inside her.