Daine's Daughter: Thank you! Goldeneyedwildmage: Do you really think I've have them be mad at each other for long? I love fluff too much! Silverlake: Sounds interesting! How's it coming along? I don't know how you can have two things going at once! Music Nerd: Your review made me laugh! I will tie all the ends up as best I can – you'll see! Dolphin Dreamer: Your reviews are very helpful, and I will see if I can do the same by you when you've typed your book up! Thank you as always! Drop Your Oboe: You're probably right! How come you banned yourself from reading them? Poodle14: Thank you. Don't worry – they will do! Fidella: Thank you! I very much enjoyed the cake. Celuna Cirrus: Thank you! Sonnet Lacewing: Thank you – Arland was a fun character to do. Chris and I have been together five and half years without even a sniff of a ring. However, personally I'd rather have a new car than get married. I doubt it will ever happen! Aravilui: Thank you. It's great when I know which bits people like – then I can do more like them! Feyrey: Thank you. This chapter was far more like what I am interested in writing! Although I'm sure you've guessed that by now!

Disclaimer: The same as usual applies.

Lammas Part II

Chapter 2 – Delays

Daine awoke to a feeling of sinking in her stomach and turned over restlessly in the large bed. Numair had come back late and had slept without touching her, his long body sleeping so far away from her he could have been in another room. Now he wasn't there, and she realised that he must have woke early and left without waking her.

The ache inside her was almost unbearable; feeling like someone had put their hands into her stomach and twisted everything about, hard. They had had little niggles at each other from time to time, it was inevitable with the living together being relatively new, they were still adjusting to sharing all their space with another person having both had rooms on their own for so long, but they had never argued like this before, or spent a night without being in each other's arms. Her heart felt heavy, as if it was made of some poisonous metal, tainting her blood. She had refused to let herself cry, knowing in her mind that it had been a combination of the pressure that Numair was putting on himself and the suffocating heat that had caused him to lose his temper. But unfortunately, it seemed as if her mind was going to let her heart dominate, and it was a very unhappy Daine that walked down to the breakfast hall.

The room had been decorated with bunches of the just harvested corn and seeds, the walls draped with silken motifs in colours of red, orange and yellow. Many of the people present would be taking walks in the woods and helping to gather any fruit that had fallen or was ripe enough to pick. It was a chance to spend time with nature and be thankful for the generosity of the sun god and the Great Mother, as the sun god withdrew his powers in order for the food to be harvested. It was also an opportunity to spend time with loved ones, Daine remembered, her heart breaking inside her chest, feeling like it was shattering into several sharp pieces.

She spotted Evin and made her way over to him, hoping that he could laugh her out of her maudlin mood. He was sitting with a group of people from his rider company, his usual cheeky grin plastered on his face as he laughed along with the rest at a joke that had just been told. She sat down with him, greeted warmly by the group. Evin cast a glance at her and shot her a worried look.

"What's the matter?" He asked her quietly, as the rest of the group indulged in their typical banter.

Daine gave him a half smile, her eyes belaying her inner turmoil. "We had a row," she confessed, using the same undertone as he had.

Evin smiled, his eyes glimmering a little. "Daine, everyone has arguments," he soothed. "With the weather being so sticky and horrible and the added stress of his mother coming, then I'm not surprised. You're the closest thing for him to take it out on. He's only human!"

Daine's smile grew a bit. "I feel so awful…"

Evin shrugged a little. "That's how rows leave you. You've not had one before, have you?" Daine shook her head. "Then this will be the worst. You will make up. He's come grovelling later on, but for now, try not to let it spoil your holiday. Have you had breakfast?" Daine shook her head again, not feeling that she was capable of much speech. "Go and get yourself something. You won't want to eat later as it'll be too hot."

She did as he said, knowing the wisdom behind his words and came back with a small plate bearing eggs and toasted bread. Evin nodded at her, now deep in conversation with a young man named Edan, and Keelyn, a tall pretty girl who Daine remembered to have a natural ability with horses from the day she had arrived. From what she had heard, these two along with Evin and some other were to be among the cast for the play of John Barleycorn, which would begin at midday.

It was a traditional play and had been acted out every few years when there had been the time away from fighting foes to rehearse and guarantee that there would be enough people to be able to see it. The performing of it would take place in the meadows that led down to the forest, so there would be enough room for whoever wanted to attend, which Daine imagined would amount to at least half the palace. Evin was now instructing his two colleagues on their parts and both seemed fairly nervous. Evin however seemed that he was more likely to suffer from unicorn fever than nerves, such was his personality.

"You are going to come and watch, aren't you Daine?" he asked, standing up and picking up his plate and cup. "It should be good. We've spent enough time rehearsing anyhow."

"I'll definitely be there," she smiled, feeling a little better with his words and the food. She watched them leave, rounding up other who were around to grab a last practise before they showed it to the rest of the public. Daine stood up as well, taking her crockery and cup back to the kitchens and heading towards the stables and fields to see how Cloud and the rest of the mounts were doing.

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Maura had woken with a sense of anticipation in her stomach. It was a pleasant one, one of excitement and enthusiasm at the day ahead. She had spent an interesting evening with Kalasin and the queen, discussing court life and the many people that lived at the palace and their quirks and interesting rumours about them. She hadn't managed to see Daine much, which she was disappointed about, having wanted to tell her about Arland and his brother and how she met them in that strange room. But Daine had not really been around the previous evening, and when Maura had glimpsed her she didn't look to be in a particularly good mood. Neither had Numair, so Maura had noticed, so she had given both of them a wide berth.

She wandered outside into the grounds, breakfast having been brought into her rooms earlier, a treat that she imagined Thayet had organised. She spotted a group of people seemingly setting up for a show of sorts; unfolding and refolding a large sheet of white material and some dressed in work men's clothes – one had definitely borrowed what he wore from a farmer. She sat down on a fence a short distance away and watched curiously, intrigued by the intentness in what they were doing. She imagined that they were putting on a play for Lammas, although she wasn't quite sure what it would be about, having never celebrated this particular festival outside of Dunlath before where it was generally kept very quiet apart from a meal and the giving of gifts to the farmers – most of whom were ogres - in the area.

She heard footsteps walk up behind her and turned round suddenly, not wanting to be surprised. To her delight she saw Arland wearing a great smile and looking directly at her. She wondered if he was either smiling at her because he was pleased to see her or whether she had something strange stuck to her face. He jumped up onto the fence at sat beside her.

"Sorry!" He said as the fence swayed slightly under his weight. "I didn't mean to startle you. I was looking for you everywhere, and couldn't find you."

"Really?" Maura said, unable to keep the joy at that news out of her voice. "What for?"

"My brother finally stood up to Garin," he said happily. "And I think I have you to thank for that!" He grinned, and she felt herself colour with pleasure. She realised she would have fought the bully herself just to see that smile.

"He just needed a bit of encouragement from somebody different," she said, mimicking his grin. She wondered if her hair was all right as she hadn't done much to it before she had left her room.

"Well thank you. Hopefully his first year as a page will be a happy one now Garin won't be making him his number one target," he said, running his fingers through his hair. Maura felt something in her stomach do somersaults.

They were quiet for a minute and Maura felt a little uncomfortable, not quite knowing what to say.

"Are you…"

"You look…"

They both laughed having spoken at the same time. "You first," Arland gestured to her with his palm.

"Thank you," Maura smiled. "I was wondering if the squires get to go to the feast tonight?" She felt very brave having asked the question, hoping it didn't scream that she wanted him to be there.

"Some of us do. We are expected to attend some formal meals. But tonight Thayet is just sticking to a small number of people for the meal itself, although we may join up for the dancing afterwards," he explained, his hand travelling through his hair again and having the same effect on her stomach. "Is that what you're here for?"

Maura shook her head. "Dunlath is a very small place and I don't really get to go to balls and feasts, so her majesty suggested that I came to the court here for a few months so I could…" she wasn't sure how to explain it.

"Have some fun?"

Maura laughed. "I think that explains it! What did you want to say?" She asked, not wanting to make the conversation be all about her, like she knew some noble women would do.

Arland paused and looked a little embarrassed. "I was going to say how pretty you looked out in the sunlight," he began staring at a blade of grass in his fingers.

Maura felt herself blush, and quickly searched her repertoire of polite responses. Her mind went blank. "Thank you," she managed, her heart beating so fast she felt as if it was going to pop out of her chest. She wondered if to compliment him, but wasn't quite sure what to say. She decided to try and change the subject. "What are they rehearsing for?" She pointed across the field to where the eight or nine people were rushing around almost like ants, they were that organised.

Arland looked a little relieved, Maura noticed. "They're putting on a play of John Barleycorn," he told her and noticed Maura's puzzlement. "Have you not heard the John Barleycorn tales?"

Maura shook her head. "There's not been anybody around to tell me," she confessed, knowing that the young man before her would not mock her for her lack of knowledge. "That's the other reason I'm here, to learn a little more about court life and traditions and things."

He smiled. "My family were quite into the sabbats so I knew the stories from an early age," he said. "Do you want me to tell you? I know you'll probably see it acted out, but it may help if you know the story before hand."

Maura nodded. "If you have the time," she said, worried if he was missing something important to talk to her.

"Time's no problem for me today. I've managed to stay out of enough trouble so I've a free day," he quietened for a second and looked thoughtful. Maura figured that he was working out how to tell the story. "The idea is," he began. "That John Barleycorn is not a person, really, he's the, well, barley. The story usually starts with him having been buried underground by three men, the sower, reaper and carter. John Barleycorn then goes on to grow and become alive again, and the three men are amazed, so they swear to kill him once more, which they do by cutting him down and tying him to the cart. Then he goes through the process with the thrasher and the miller and is eventually mad into bread and ale, but of course his seed has been scattered and he will grow again," Arland finished telling the tale and Maura nodded her head in understanding.

"It's another harvest story really, isn't it?" she said. "I'm glad you've explained it. Now I'll know what's going on."

"I think they're about to start soon," Arland pointed over to where several people had gathered, sitting in rows facing the players. "Shall we go over there?"

She jumped down from the fence and took the arm he offered, allowing him to lead her over to where people were sitting. They sat next to each on blankets that had been laid out for the spectators. Maura caught sight of Daine sat at the far side, but Numair was nowhere to be seen. She assumed that the mage was probably working. From what she knew of him he would sometimes become obsessed with new spells and experiments, so she imagined that Daine probably hadn't been able to drag him away.

The players waited until around fifty or sixty people had sat them selves down and began to take their places. Maura recognised Evin Larse as Daine had pointed him out to her the previous day, and she knew that he was commander of one of the rider groups and was from a family of players.

The players took there positions to a good deal of shouting and banter that was being directed at them and Maura heard Evin say a few things back to the main culprits. Obviously this wasn't meant to be taken too seriously, and was a bit of burly fun to celebrate the sabbat.

It began with Evin, who was taking the role of the narrator. He introduced the sower, carter and thresher and started to tell of their success in killing John Barleycorn last year. One of the older men, who was playing the part of the sower announced his burial of Barleycorn and this was demonstrated by the great white sheet that Maura had noticed before being draped over the audience, causing a few loud cries to be heard and laughter. She heard Evin continue to tell the story of how John Barleycorn began to rise from the dead and the sheet was removed and two of the players began to give out sheaves of corn to the people of the audience, while the sower, reaper and carted flicked them with wet fingers, imitating rain.

"The sun called, and the rain called, to rise up Barleycorn. After all that waiting in the ground, he will now be reborn," Evin called, his voice booming across the field.

He continued to tell in a rhyming verse of how the sun made Barleycorn strong and old, with a beard, which Maura assumed referred to the beard of the corn. Then the reaper came back on to the stage, telling of his woe at his brother, the sower's, lack of success in ridding them of Barleycorn. He then took his scythe and expertly started to thrash away at the audience, making a few wince with his closeness, but never once touching them.

The woman playing the carter then took centre stage and began to poke everyone gently with a pitchfork, imitating staking the corn up to take away. The words the group had written were humorous and poked fun at several people there present, including Sarge, who was given an extra painful dig with the tool. The man playing the thresher also joined in, smacking people with a boffer flail. After almost causing a riot from the audience, they disappeared and allowed the malter to terrorise the audience, carrying a huge, fiery candle and holding it close to people sat on the front row, mimicking what the malter would do to the corn. Maura found herself laughing out loud at the scene; it was like no other performance she had seen, not that she had seen many. Arland was laughing too. For a slight second she glanced at his face, and felt her heart flip. She realised that she rather liked him. No other boy or man that she had met had provoked the same feelings in her. She supposed that this was one of the reasons that Daine had suggested coming to stay at the palace for awhile, to experience things like this.

The miller, who was a large, thick set woman, took over from the malter, brandishing a flag stone which she began to place on people's heads as she said her lines in a rather fearsome voice, telling of how she was going to crush him well under her stone and make sure that he was dead.

"She's the head cook in the palace," Arland whispered to her. "Most people are terrified of her!"

"I'm not surprised!" Maura replied.

The women, dressed in tradition peasant clothes, with rouge deeply painted on her cheeks, came forwards carrying two bowls. The people present began dipping their sheaves of corn into one of the bowls and then shaking it so that drips fell into the other. Maura followed, unsure of what this was going to do. When everyone, from the elderly lady who was an aunt of King Jonathan's to the smallest child of one of the maids, had splattered their corn, the contents of second bowl were poured into a nut brown one that Evin had appeared with. What was tipped out wasn't the few drops of water, but a dark ale, causing some of the younger members of the audience to gasp at where it had come from, and others to shout out asking for some or making other jokes.

The players then made a semi circle around the ale and a loaf of bread that had been passed to them by a man Arland identified to be one of the chefs. Then, in his loud voice, Evin continued with the ending of the story.

"Oh, they have tried to kill Sir John,

With scythe and fire and mill,

But I taste the bread and ale and still,

I must declare,

That Sir John lives on!"

A round of applause and cheering began, but was hushed as Evin stepped forward to end the play formally,

"So, let next year let the grain grow strong and tall,

To feed us all, the big and small,

Goddess bless us one and all,

And now the play is done,

So heed the festive table's call!"

A final cheer went up, and people began to stand, a group circling around Evin and patting him on the back in congratulations. Maura stood with Arland. The sun had reached its peak in the cloudless, blue sky, and although it would be hotter later on in the afternoon, it was already boiling at an uncomfortable temperature. She hoped she didn't look too hot and flustered with heat, and that Arland wouldn't notice that she had mopped her brow a couple of times with her handkerchief.

"Did you enjoy that?" He asked her, and she noticed that his eyes were twinkling at her again.

She nodded. It had been fun and it was something she would have never seen at Dunlath. "Thank you," she smiled at him.

He shook his head, "I'm sure you would have seen it without me being there. Thank you for letting me accompany you. Some ladies wouldn't have wanted a squire with them, or wouldn't have come to watch this at all, given that its such a hot day – they might get a freckle or something," he smiled at her and Maura wondered if her heart was going to act like that every time he grinned and whether it would have any lasting impact on her health.

"I've already got freckles," she said, pointing to one she knew adorned her nose.

"I know," he said, amusement in his voice. "They suit you."

She blushed, figuring it was a compliment. "Thank you."

"Shall I walk you back to the palace?" He offered. "I don't know what your plans are for the afternoon, but I imagine it will be too hot to spend much of it out here."

Maura nodded. "I said I would have a midday meal with the queen and Princess Kalasin. I would very much like it if you walked me back." He offered her his arm once more and they proceeded to the palace.

As they walked Maura noticed the tall figure of Numair, looking distinctly unhappy as he watched the goings on in the field. She wondered if something had happened with him and Daine to make them both miserable, and then rejected the idea. It was more likely to have something to do with the visit from his mother. Numair and Daine were far too in love to have had an argument, and people in love didn't row, did they?

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Thayet sat next to her husband at the thin, long table and glanced around at her guests. Maura seemed to have settled in well into court life, and was happily exchanging gossip with Kalasin. The two girls were only a year or so apart in age and had a lot in common. Thayet had noticed a rather becoming flush to Maura's cheeks, and she assumed it had something to do with Arland of Bismere, whom she'd been sat with during the play. Thayet approved if they were about to indulge on an innocent romance; Arland's parents were also gentry, although not keen at all on court life, and from what Thayet knew he was an excellent squire and would almost undoubtedly become an excellent knight, being both bright and brave. For that reason, she had made sure that Lord Wyldon had informed the squires currently present at the palace that they may join in with the dancing later, in fact, she had almost ordered Wyldon to make sure they were there, much to his chagrin. She smothered a laugh at the thought of the look on his face. He had never particularly approved of her.

Her eyes were drawn to Daine who looked completely miserable. Numair's mother still hadn't arrived, but Thayet doubted if that was the cause. They had obviously had an argument. Numair was seated several seats down, in between Harailt and Lindhall, trying to immerse himself in a conversation that Thayet doubted anyone else at the table would understand, and by the look on Numair's face she doubted that he understood it either; his thought were obviously elsewhere.

She turned to her husband, who was busy filling himself with a rather huge piece of cake, lushly decorated with fresh cream.

"You're going to end up with a huge belly like Imrah's if you're not careful," she warned him in an undertone, poking his hard stomach under the table. This was her current favourite pastime. Jon had recently developed a complex about reaching forty, so she was having much pleasure hinting at him developing a middle aged spread.

"Well, seeing as you've just had a piece that was twice the size of mine, I think you should be attempting something more in the way of exercise," he said fondly. "Else I might have to look round for a younger model to grace my arm."

Thayet laughed, poking him a little harder. "No one else would put up with you," she smiled, any upset from a few months ago now completely evaporated. "Have you seen Daine and Numair?" She asked him, her tone becoming more serious.

"Many times, my love," he responded, spooning the last of the cake into his mouth.

"I think they've had a row," she said, ignoring his flippancy.

"I would agree, seeing as they're not sat anywhere near each other and have been throwing little glances at each other all evening," Jonathan answered.

"That was observant of you," Thayet glared at him. "Do you think I should have a word with one of them, see if I can help at all?"

Jonathan shook his head. "They need to resolve this themselves. It's their first big fallout, they have to do it. Don't interfere."

Thayet sighed, knowing he was right. If they hadn't sorted themselves out by tomorrow then she would interfere, as Jonathan had put it, but until then she would just hope that they would soon end up in each other's arms.

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The dancing had started nearly an hour ago and Maura still hadn't seen Arland. She felt her heart sinking into her stomach with the disappointment, but still tried to keep hopeful. Maybe Lord Wyldon had kept him back for some reason. She had heard that he was rather mean.

She sat down and sipped a little of the wine she had been given. It was not a strong drink as it was the one that was usually given to the younger children so that they didn't feel left out. Maura was no longer considered one of the younger children, but she wasn't that used to drinking wine and had thought that the normal stuff might make her a bit giddy, as it had made Kalasin already.

She watched the dancers circling round the floor, some closer than others. It was possible to tell who were lovers from the way they danced and how they held each other. She hadn't seen Daine or Numair all evening. Daine was cooped into a corner with Onua and Numair didn't appear to be around. Maura wondered if Numair's mother had arrived and he was spending time with her, but in that case, she thought, wouldn't Daine be there as well?

She felt a light tap on her shoulder and looked up to see Arland standing next to her.

"May I have this dance, m'lady?" he asked, his eyes twinkling in the candlelight, holding out his arm.

"Of course," she said getting up as gracefully as she could in the many layered skirt that she wore. It was a lilac shade that suited her, and fitted perfectly to enhance the curves that the goddess had recently blessed her with. Much to her astonishment she had seen the gaze of several young men follow her tonight, and had felt flattered and shy at the same time. She hoped Arland would notice her in the same way.

He led her around the dance floor and she wondered what people were thinking of them. He spoke a little to her, asking her about the meal and what she had done that afternoon and telling her about the archery practise he'd had. She found that four different songs had passed and they were still talking.

As the musicians took a break so did they, returning to side of the floor.

"It's warm in here," Maura said, knowing that her face would be glowing with the heat and energy of dancing.

"Shall we stand outside?" Arland offered. Maura nodded and they walked out of the big double doors that led to the courtyard, and then on to the surrounding fields. The stars were ablaze in the sky, giving a little more light to that of the candle lamps that had been lit around the courtyard. Maura could here the chirruping of crickets and other insects that were probably too hot to sleep. The night was humid, although it did have a gentle cooling breeze that was almost chilly when it blew for a while.

"It will thunder later," Arland said, glancing up at the sky.

"How do you know?" Maura asked, looking up too.

"There are clouds to the east that look like they're carrying rain and there's a spark in the air. And I had a bad headache before, and I always get those before a storm," he looked back down, his eyes going back to Maura's face.

Facing him, she realised why he had been later than the other squires. "Did you have to see a healer?" She asked, eyes wide. He nodded. "If you weren't well you should have stayed in bed!"

He smiled, and she felt his hands grip hers slightly. "I wanted to see you," he said softly, and she noticed the blush on his cheeks under the soft lighting.

"I, I'm glad you came," she said, feeling redness creep up her cheeks.

They were both silent as they met each other's eyes, both a little unsure. Then he leaned down to her and she knew she was instinctively pressing closer to him, her heart feeling like it was about to explode inside her chest as he kissed her. And she managed, just about, to make sure that her nose didn't bump his.

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Daine stood outside of the main palace gates, her hands wrapped around a small pipstrell bat that had nearly been supper for an owl. The air seemed to be at breaking point, such was the intensity of it. The heat seemed crueller than it had done during the day, and Daine wondered if it was purposely mirroring how she felt inside. They hadn't exchanged a word since their argument last night, in fact, she had not seen him properly since then. He had spent the day inside, buried under some books probably, trying to ignore reality. Her heart felt battered, and she knew that the tears were welling up. She had kept them under control all day, all the way through Evin's play and through the meal. She couldn't believe that he had moved his place so he sat with Harailt and Lindhall instead of her. Now was the worst of it, she didn't even know if he would be sleeping in their bed, or if he would even be in their room when she got back. It wouldn't surprise her if he had returned to the study where he worked with Harailt sometimes and had carried on with his experiments.

She rested her back against a wall and released the bat, knowing that it would now avoid owls with even more care than it had before. She heard it thank her, and she responded appropriately, but her heart didn't feel in it, it was far to occupied with thinking about Numair.

The air felt still and unnaturally quiet, even the gentle cooling breeze that had begun dancing that evening had ceased. Daine knew that the tension inside her was being replicated externally; there was too much tension in the air.

The something snapped, and the sky began to cry. Slowly at first, with big, heavy drops splattering on the ground and on her face. She moved further out into the open air, knowing that it was a stupid idea in case it thundered, but needing to feel the elements against her, needing something raw to make her feel as if she wasn't just a thing too tied up within herself. The rain grew harder and she saw the lightning break across the sky, its flash of light illuminating her surroundings as she had never seen them before. Thunder bellowed and the sound rang through her mind, clearing her head of all the useless thoughts she had had over the course of the day, and she felt the realisation hit her as cold as the raindrops on her skin, and she realised how ridiculous the whole thing had been.

She felt herself become saturated with the rain as it grew harder. The lightning tore across the sky almost repeatedly, barely giving way to let the thunder have a turn. Looking up to the windows of the rooms that she and Numair shared she noticed a candle shining in the window, as if it was calling her home having illuminated his thoughts as the lightning had hers. She turned her back to go into the castle, and heard footsteps behind her. Turning sharply, she saw an older woman, accompanied by a man who looked slightly younger. Both were drenched and carried packs, but both wore an air of dignity and calm that only came through years of experience. A second look at the woman told her all she needed to know.

"Hello, Daine," the woman said, dropping her pack and holding out her arms.

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