I love writing this stuff! I have so much fun putting my characters into these predicaments! Muh, hah, hah!
Camreyn- It was such a long and lovely review! I feel so loved!
SunsetSparrow- I'm glad!
Veronica- Thanks!
Realtfarraige- Sebbi will always annoy Aine. It wouldn't be any fun, otherwise. Lancelot's mother is certainly not one to waste time.
Mustang Gal- Thanks! My first review! Whoopee!
Sera and Lancelot were in the process of setting up their tent. It was rather slow work, as they kept stopping to gape at each other. They were to be married tonight? It seemed so soon!
Sera was in a state of shock. It wasn't that Lancelot's mother was the evil hag that she had thought, but she was obviously expecting grandchildren! Grandchildren! Which would entail her to have a child! Was she ready for that? Physically, yes. She wasn't quite sure about the mental aspect. It might not be so bad if the child was raised in Britain, away from unbalanced women who would hex it. All they had to do was return to Britain, and everything would be all right. 'Keep telling yourself that, Sera. Keep telling yourself that.'
Lancelot couldn't help but think of his father's reaction to Sera. He hadn't been overly welcoming, but he hadn't pushed her away either. His mother's reaction had come as a complete shock. He had not expected her to be so receptive to the idea of him marrying a foreigner. Perhaps she wouldn't hit him when she learned he had no plans to stay...but perhaps not. Some things would never change.
Babai pulled Amage closer to him, so that they could talk without Habren overhearing.
"This marriage is no good. The woman was practically shaking! She would not bear strong children for Lancelot. She is not of our kind." He said softly.
"Is that all you thought of me when we were married? That I could bear you strong children?" Amage asked, dangerously. "She is a warrior. That much is obvious. She is not so different."
"She is not Sarmatian! That is enough! You will not marry them! The Gods do not wish it so!"
Amage took a step closer to him, lowering her voice to a dangerous level. "Listen to me. You do not know the will of the Gods. I will do as I see fit. You have forgotten the old ways. You are so Roman now, you disgust me! Our women are not to be treated like livestock! We are above such things, and until today, I thought you were too. Go, and do not come back until you are ready to admit the error of your ways."
They glared at each other for some time. Babai was infuriated. In sixteen years of marriage, she had never sent him away. They had had their fights, to be sure. What married couple didn't? But this was more.
Amage couldn't believe that this was Babai talking! He had never been so blatantly Roman in his life! It was a sure sign that they were losing the battle. Their ways would die out, if they remained in this state. The Roman ideals were becoming their own. This, Amage would not tolerate. She was proud of her ancestors, and would not let their ways be forgotten. She had taught her daughter, Habren, in battle art. It was becoming more and more rare for females to be trained in such things. They were being Romanized, and they didn't even notice it!
The village was buzzing about the new arrivals. Many mothers were sizing the knights up, thinking of them for their daughters. The Romans had been taking too many of their men, trying to save their beloved empire. It did not make for much procreation. Lancelot hadn't turned out half bad! Why was he dallying with that Sera girl? She wasn't Sarmatian, she wasn't even pretty!
Habren watched as the knights set up their tents, with the help of the Woads. It was odd to see her brother after all this time. She could barely remember him. Now, he had returned, and caused her parents to fight. What would these other newcomers bring? Many of the men were quite attractive, and all but one was Sarmatian. They would do.
"Is your family anything like Lancelot's?" asked Rebekah, trying to hide her apprehension. Poor, poor Sera. She wasn't made for such stressful situations!
Tristan put the final touches on their tent, and turned to her, not showing his amusement.
"No. My mother doesn't claim that the Gods speak to her. She just never shuts up. My father is a man of few words. He rarely has an opportunity to use words, anyway."
Rebekah stood, stunned. That was the longest speech Tristan had made in a long time, and his words were even touched with sarcasm. It was a miracle! She crossed over to him, and kissed him. It was a long time before the kiss was broken, and turned into an embrace. They had been riding for a long time. It was nice to have the quiet. As Rebekah looked over Tristan's shoulder, she saw a rather unsettling sight. There was a large group of women looking on, glaring at Rebekah. She had no business with one of their men!
Rebekah cleared her throat. "Tristan, we have an audience."
Tristan released Rebekah and whipped around, cursing himself. Normally, he would have noticed such a large group of people in such close proximity. Love made you stupid. He made a mental note. Never start cuddling with Rebekah when a potential battle was afoot. It could never end well.
An old woman stepped forward.
"I am Tabiti. This is my daughter, Avesta," she said, indicating the beautiful girl beside her. "If you would like, you may share our tent, good Sir. Your travel must have been long."
Rebekah's jaw nearly dropped, but she caught herself. This woman was completely ignoring her! She was practically offering Tristan her daughter's hand in marriage! It was if Rebekah wasn't even present! That made Rebekah very upset. Her face, however, was the picture of calm. If only she could see how much her expression resembled Tristan's.
Tristan was slightly taken aback, but it didn't show. He really should have expected this, with the number of males available. Rebekah couldn't be liking this situation. Rebekah could usually control herself, but it was best not to tempt fate. His woman could be rather violent when provoked. While it was one of the traits he admired about her, he preferred that said violence was directed at a mortal enemy. He couldn't really call his own people a mortal enemy.
"I will be fine in the tent I will be sharing with Rebekah." He said, indicating the woman beside him. "Thank you, for your concern."
He placed his hand at the small of Rebekah's back, mentally begging her to be gracious.
"But, I'm sure you would be more comfortable with us. I'm sure the lady could manage on her own." Said Tabiti, not being terribly gracious herself. She glared at Rebekah, silently dismissing her.
Rebekah cocked her head at the old woman. She had been taught from a very early age to respect her elders, but had never really had a problem with it until now. She didn't think she could control herself for much longer. If they remained in this village for much longer, she couldn't be held accountable for her actions.
"I'm sure we will be just fine as we are. If you will excuse us..." Tristan said, and dragged Rebekah behind him, into the tent. Rebekah was nearly hissing.
"My, aren't we glad we're getting off to such a wonderful start with the locals?" asked Rebekah in a rather acidic tone.
Tristan shied away from her slightly. She was a bit frightening at the moment. She would be all right soon, she just needed an opportunity to cool off.
"I'll just leave, shall I?" asked Tristan, in a rare show of nerves.
Rebekah's glare softened a bit, and she caught his sleeve as he tried to escape. "I'm not angry with you. You didn't do anything."
Tristan very nearly sighed with relief.
Rebekah laughed at the expression on his face, and kissed him.
"So, rethinking your decision to marry me yet?" she teased.
"Actually, yes. Tabiti looks very attractive for a woman of her age." Said Tristan, letting out a small smile.
Rebekah pretended to look askanced. "Well, if that's really the way of it, Laim was looking especially attractive when he bid us good bye."
"That might be, but you're forgetting- at the time, he also had his arm around a pregnant Etain." Tristan pointed out.
"You think I couldn't get him to change his mind?" asked Rebekah, with a grin.
"A month ago, yes. You wouldn't need to change his mind. Now, absolutely not. No matter how good you are in bed, he's fallen in love with Etain."
It was true. He had fallen in love with Etain. It was rather sweet, really. The baby was eight moon cycles away, and they couldn't be much happier. Rebekah didn't feel the need to dwell on this. Talk of pregnancies always made her nervous. What if the herbs didn't work?
"Did you just admit that I'm good in bed?" she asked, instead.
"No." said Tristan, reverting back to his usual pattern of speech.
Rebekah sighed. It had been a real breakthrough.
Sebbi's eyes were alight with curiosity, as he dragged Aine about the village. Aine was grumbling about 'mad Saxons who don't have a bloody clue how soon they're going to lose their means for procreation', when she began to notice all the female attention Sebbi was attracting. She felt oddly defensive. She and Sebbi were just friends, why was she feeling like this? He drove her mad, always going on about some weed or another. She wasn't interested!
Deirdre tugged at Galahad's curls playfully. She was feeling slightly threatened by the massive number of eligible women present, though she tried not to show it. Galahad smiled at her, and she relaxed. This was Galahad! He loved her!
Radha was indifferent to the dominant female presence of the tribe. She and Gawain shared a bond deeper than appearances. She was not worried. Gawain never strayed far. When a woman was worried about losing her man, she probably already had. They were words to live by, and Radha followed them to T. It had worked for he thus far. Gawain hadn't so much as looked at another woman (well, perhaps a passing glance) since they met. Her self-confidence was one of the many things that Gawain loved her for.
Everyone was making preparations for sundown. Much would be decided then.
Well?