Chapter Forty Five – Solstice

"Come, let's go. It will be starting soon."

Pazu was standing in the mud at the edge of the wet grass. Just looking. A few yards in front of him the waters of the lake lapped at the gravelly shore. Two yards behind him the clear grass ended and the snow began, its edge a clear line where it lay on the sloping field.

"Sheeta, come here."
"We'll miss the opening prayers."
"Look at this, it won't take a minute."

She came through the gate and across the snowy field, stopping beside him.

"What?"
"What do you see?"
"The lake, some mud, some grass. Um, and snow."
"Yes. Odd isn't it? Funny?"
"I'm laughing my head off. It's so hilarious. Let's go."
"Why isn't there any snow here?"

She pursed her lips.

"Hm, warm lake water?"
"Yes I think so. But lake water shouldn't be this warm, it should be frozen after this much cold weather. We've had snow on the ground – it's been below freezing for weeks."

He took the tin mug he was holding and stepped to the water and dipped it in.

"Here, dip your fingers in. It's actually warm."
"Yes I know. It's always warm. I swim in it some days, even in spring or autumn. Bit chilly today but the water is often warm."
"You know?"
"Hm, course. Is that wrong or something? The lake has always been warm."
"It shouldn't be. It should be icy cold."

She bent down in front of him and turned her head to look up at his face, she made big eyes.

"Something's making it warm stupid! Now come on! You can talk to me about warm lakes while we're walking."

They went along the lane to the village, she reached for and took his hand. The pathways to the communal hall were crowded with revelers. It sounded like some had started the party early in their own homes.

"Do you know what makes it warm?"
"It's something in the rocks, some natural heat source. There are hot springs across the lake, we go there to bathe sometimes. Some are lovely, like hot baths. Some of the pools are almost boiling, you can't touch the water. I don't know what causes it. Shuna might know."

--I--
---o-o-oOo-o-o---
I I

He looked up at the ceiling of the hall. The rafters were hung with beautiful garlands of evergreen and laced with bunches of red and orange berries, dried fruit and dozens of flowers made of bright cloth and paper. There were paper masks and animals among the greenery and dozens of candles on large iron hoops hung from the ceiling by chains. The place smelled of pine sap and a scented perfume that reminded him of fruit, a rich earthy sharp smell. A fire blazed in the central hearth and the hall was packed. The whole village was gathered in this huge timber building; six hundred people or more. Everyone was kneeling and facing the hearth where Councillor Kamaesa led a service of prayer. Pazu couldn't understand a word of it but no matter, he wasn't a man to pray anyway and he just let himself drift along with the sounds, sights and smells. From time to time people would stand, come forward and speak, some reading from a big book and others apparently speaking words of their own. For a while a young man stood and played one of their small wind instruments, something between a recorder and a tin whistle. It gave a low plaintive moaning cry and he played beautifully and quietly. Above the sound of his playing three women stood and related something from a book. Pazu learned later that this was a great tragic poem and he could tell that this performance had a very strong effect on the gathered silent crowd. The atmosphere became charged with emotion and around him he could hear people sniffing and weeping.

Sheeta had warned him that today's celebration would get emotional.

"It begins with a time of repentance. We say sorry for our mistakes, the sins we've committed, wrong things we have said or done to others. Then we ask Lucita to forgive us, to take away the bad dark dead things and replace them with fresh new vibrant places in our hearts. After that cleansing we say prayers for the dead, people who died this year. Remembering the dead, honouring them. It can go on for some time and there will be music and songs, but not the sort of music you heard in Thoma's inn. Do forgive me if I get tearful, some of the songs and poems are quite emotional."

Sad songs or not, Pazu found the day uplifting, restful and he spent time with closed eyes just thinking things through. He thought about the times ahead and what trials they might face. But there was nothing new to consider. He had thought about this and thought about this and thought about this until his mind just ached and felt hollow and empty. Until new facts or news changed the situation there was nothing to be gained by turning it round and around. He'd looked at it from every angle, he and Sheeta just had to wait for the Gathering's decision. And make plans then.

So he let his mind wander aimlessly, drifting from event to event of that year, of the days since a girl in a blue dress had magically floated into his life. But with a young girl next to him weeping, perhaps for a dead mother or father or more likely a grandparent his mind turned to death. He had seen death once or twice from a distance in the mines and he had seen the ruined house from a distance as well, the smoke curling up from the explosion and Okami holding him back, preventing the eight year old Pazu from running up the hill and seeing what remained in the rubble. He had remembered his mother, sending him off that morning with a piece of pie, a bottle of lemonade and an apple in a cloth.

"Bye mom! See you tonight!"
"Bye Pazu, be good and work hard!"
"I will mom. Bye!"

Outside on the grass his father, working away at the engine of the flying machine. He had given up with the old small steam power plant, it was too heavy and put out too little power. He and Adam had yesterday bought one of the new fangled Jessop gas motors from Eckhmer. His dad was dry running it on compressed air and would later take it into the basement and charge up the tanks.

"Hey, Pazu. Come down to the workshop later when you're done and I'll show you the new engine."
"Thanks dad, see you!"
"Bye lad!"

He never saw them again. He hadn't even kissed them goodbye.

He had finished work and stopped at Okami's to collect some bed sheets she had sewn for mom. Okami had given him a slice of cake and a playful ruffle of his hair and he'd stepped out the door and as he looked up at his house it had vanished it a flash of orange fire and brown smoke. He had screamed and gone to run up the hill but Okami had grabbed his arm and held him, yelling and writhing while men from the village ran to the burning remains of his home.

At the funeral there had been just one coffin. There had been so little to find and what there was couldn't be identified so they had buried husband and wife together in one casket.

Pazu stared at the wooden floor in front of his nose. Why had this come to him now? He hadn't thought about this clearly in years. He wasn't a man to pray. He didn't have time for gods, they'd certainly never had time for him. He'd never prayed. Only once, outside a shed last summer, a shed that became a funeral pyre. So not being a praying man of course he prayed now, as you do when your mind and emotions are susceptible. He prayed for forgiveness for killing a man. In his heart he felt he hadn't done wrong. The blond man who kicked down the farmhouse door would have killed him. There was no choice in the matter. Do nothing and die or do something and kill. If he had done nothing, Sheeta would have suffered too. No, no choice in it. He said sorry to the big man and asked Lucita to forgive him.

Then he thought about a soldier, a man not much older than himself. Had there been a choice here? Yes, probably. But he had to act quickly, he didn't know if the boy would fire again and his mind was full of anger, his desire to protect her. Yes, that had been a mistake, he felt. And he was sorry. He prayed for Lucita to forgive him. He prayed that the boy's parents might find peace.

But worst of all had been the abandoned farm and the murdered family. Especially the children. The boys, perhaps no older than the little crying girl next to him now. He prayed again that they be at peace. He also asked for Lucita and Maerth-dhu to be merciful on the soldiers who had done that.

He said sorry for telling so many lies and getting Tanner into trouble. He asked Lucita to look after Tanner and Morwen, to grant them a good harvest next year. And then, because he was a man who never prayed he suddenly found himself praying for all sorts of people. For the men who had caused this war, he prayed that their consciences would let them agree a peace. He prayed that Muska, wherever he was would be at peace. He prayed for the misguided man in the green suit, whose name he had never learned. He prayed for the Gondoan Grand Gathering, that they may reach the right decision. The decision that was best for Gondoa and not their own interests. He prayed for Councillor Kamaesa, for her good health. He prayed for Keya, that he might make the right choices in the times ahead. He thanked Shuna for his help, thanked Utomu for guiding them safely home, asked Utomu to protect their home and anyone who set out on journeys from it, and he went on and on, praying for thirty minutes to all kinds of people and for all kinds of things. And finally his mind came to rest on the person by his side. He didn't know what to pray for her. He finally settled on a kind of wish, that Lucita would be close to her forever, and protect her and love her and keep her from being sick or injured and finally that Sheeta would be happy. Happiness, he prayed for that. Children? Yes, he had thought of children before, so he prayed that she be fruitful and have healthy children. And while he was praying and the tears that he hadn't even noticed were flowing down his face her arm came around him, both arms. And she hugged him and told him she loved him.

And suddenly it all burst out of him, all the stresses and strains, all the worry and anger, all the fear and the guilt and the heavy load of responsibility he had borne throughout the Tepis and Laputa and Marinaer journeys. That awful moment in the forest when he thought he had lost her. He wept simply for the agony of that memory. The simple sadness of that abandoned library. He found himself sobbing and the pain and anguish came flooding out. Sheeta didn't know what had caused this but she held on tight as his bent over back was wracked with sobs. She kissed the back of his neck and murmured her love for him against his hair, and eventually when he could cry no more, when the weight had left him and he was healed, he stopped, knelt up and held her in return.

Whatever this next year would bring, Pazu knew, with her beside him, he could face it. If she were there, that was all that mattered.

--I--
---o-o-oOo-o-o---
I I

The sun was setting. It was only three in the afternoon but this far north in winter the days were short, seven hours of daylight, seventeen of night. A loud horn sounded. A dull, deep braying mournful tone. Everyone quietly filed outside into the gloom and the hundreds stood in the centre of the village. The two huge wooden horns mounted on the roof of the hall and blown by a series of men in rotation announced the dying year. Up and down the valley they could hear other horns blowing from the communal halls of other villages. It sounded like a dozen giant cows coming home to a giant milk shed. The sun wasn't visible, it was overcast, but the elders of the village knew what time it set and as the hour approached people fell silent. A few prayed, a few murmured their thanks and made their final tearful goodbyes to those this year had taken and then the crowd fell silent. For two minutes there was no sound but the gentle rustling of the wind and the lapping of the lake water. Then a deep boom of a gong sounded, and again, and a third time. Pazu was surprised to hear the crowd shout and yell and stamp their feet and shake their fists and make circle shapes around their heads and their children's heads.

Sheeta stood on tip-toe beside him and with her finger drew an imaginary halo around his head, wide enough for his shoulders to fit in.

"Circle me, circle me, quickly!"

He did so.

"Thank you. People are scaring Maerth-dhu away, the old year is dying, Maerth-dhu comes on solstice night, the longest night and he gathers up all the rubbish and takes it away, all the dead things, the fears, the pain, the sickness, the bad bits of everything. People shout and chant and stamp to scare him so he won't come in the night and grab them too. And the circle is a circle of life, a circle of protection. He can't break it if someone who loves you draws it around you. Look at the parents doing it for their children, and look! Those who live alone without family have their friends protect them. I love this ceremony Paetsu, I love it so much. It's the end of everything that is bad about the old year. From now on we look forwards and onwards. Life is coming. New life. After midnight spring comes closer with every second, Lucita is coming!"

Her eyes shone with excitement. Pazu could get into this, these spirits, the things these people believed in. It was such a positive happy faith, nothing morbid, nothing negative.

Around them people were jeering and shouting and stamping.

"I can think of another circle that helps, that protects," he said, "come here."

Alone in the crowd of screaming revelers two young people were still and silent and held on hard to each other, a circle of love joining them.

--I--
---o-o-oOo-o-o---
I I

Then the fun started. The music and dancing, the food and the drinking. Sheeta and Pazu decided they weren't going to drink. But they ate well and Sheeta spent time taking him by the hand around the hall introducing him to all her friends and lots of people she knew less well. Shuna was there and he and Pazu talked about horse riding and using the bow. Shuna said he would teach him, and to use the short Gondoan sword, the khumeht or long knife. They talked also about the warm lake and the hot springs. Shuna told him that the mountain across the lake was a volcano. Long dormant but it had fire in its heart deep underground and that warmed the lake. There were tunnels under it, caverns. He'd show him someday.

The music and song was more or less controlled until midnight but then, to the sound of the big gong again the place went wild, madder than the maddest moments at Thoma's inn the night they had crossed the border.

Sheeta explained that at solstice midnight, the very middle of the darkest longest night Maerth-dhu became corporeal, he took a physical body, a giant man with a dog's head and so could for an hour avoid Lucita who retained her spiritual body in heaven. Invisible to her he sneaked around the world and took away anyone unsuspecting or silent or afraid or alone or evil. So the people always gathered together in large groups (they even brought in the sick and those who had no friends welcoming them to the party) and made as much noise and sounded as happy as they could possibly be. This kept Maerth-dhu away. For an hour between midnight and one the mindless dancing and shouting and drinking and music carried on. Then, exhausted, the musicians and the crowd quietened down a little and people began to sing happy songs, hopeful songs, love songs, jolly family tunes.

Sheeta and Pazu found a fairly dark corner as quiet as you could get in that noisy place and lay down, pulling a fleece over themselves and they rested. Sheeta said he would need to, sunrise was at eight and then the partying would begin again. These small hours of the night was the only time to get some rest.

--I--
---o-o-oOo-o-o---
I I

"Paetsu, wake up. It's morning."

It was still dark, the hall felt no different except it was perhaps less fresh smelling. The fetid scent of hundreds of hot bodies, cooking and ale formed a palpable unique stink. It would have offended a traveler just coming in from the fresh mountain air outside but to Pazu and those inside the hall it was just the smell of a good party.

"Come on, outside."

Once again the crowd went out. They walked out of the village in a long streaming mass, a gently flowing snake of people up the hill to the south of the settlement they went, some carrying children on their shoulders, others holding musical instruments or burning torches or boughs of pine tree green. Many, Pazu noticed, wore paper masks of green as though they were themselves plants. The crowd assembled on a hill top south of the village. Pazu and Sheeta knew this place, they had ridden Immy up here often. It commanded a view towards the lower lying ground to the south and behind them back over the village, the river and the lake. The hill had a flat top as though it had been artificially leveled, a slight eastward facing slope had been cut here, making the place like a huge viewing platform. Even a person in the middle or back of the crowd, standing behind hundreds of others would have a clear view to the eastern horizon. The hill was between two other villages and crowds climbed up from them as well so that almost two thousand people gathered there.

Silence. The people were still and calm. Every eye looked to the east. The light in the sky was pale and wan, but there was little cloud and in the west the last stars were fading. It was going to be a clear day, beautiful weather. There was a raised mound of snowy earth and three people stood there, Kamaesa and two other Councillors. The three of them were speaking in strong tones words Pazu couldn't catch. The voices went on as the light in the sky grew, the first colours of sunrise came into the sky, gentle pinks, lilacs and warmer tones of salmon and gold. Pazu looked around him. To the north at the foot of the mountains the lake and river were shrouded in mist, tendrils of white smoked over the water and crept up the fields and into the village streets, each house an island. To the south the view was beautiful, a great wide flat bowl of land with more distant hills beyond. The whole was white with snow and awash with mystical pale smoke, trees and farms grew through it.

Pazu had never seen anything like it. The steep vertical noisy industrial stinking scarred landscape of the Ravine had nothing to compare to this. This crowd was held down, held in place by emotion. It was just a sunrise, the same as three hundred and sixty others, just an illusion caused by the planet spinning in space, but men's minds made poetry from it, turned it into a cornerstone of their lives and beliefs made it a thing of hope and comfort, of renewal and joy. Pazu was lost with them, drawn into this world of primitive beliefs. He moved to stand behind Sheeta. He put his arms around her across her tummy and held her against him, watching the sky over her shoulder. The east was a glowing dome now, the brilliant pinks, oranges and reds were a wall, like a gigantic bright creature rising up over the flanks of the world. Around the hilltop the mist in the lower lying fields began to turn pink, it became a fairy tale world.

Then it happened, a gasp swept through the thousands, a murmur, a small motion of the heart. A tiny bright yellow slice of something appeared at the horizon and moment by moment it grew, becoming brighter and rounder, a pinprick, then a line and finally a crescent. Pazu had half expected a reaction from the crowd or words from the three speakers but there was nothing, not a word stained the silence of this moment, not a sound from man corrupted this perfect dawn. For ten minutes no-one moved, no-one spoke, amazingly not even a baby cried. Silence. Total, magical, complete and wonderful as the sun came up. Its rosy light swept over the land across the misty fields and up the hill lighting two thousand faces with its painted hope, filling two thousand hearts with peace, wonder and love. For a few astonishing moments the whole white snowy land was painted pink and golden.

The suns disk was complete, sunrise was over, the burning yellow circle climbed in the sky and the low lying mist began to burn off, the land was steaming. The last corners of the night were being burned away. Soon it became impossible to look directly at the sun. People began to talk, there was laughter among the crowd, people hugged and somewhere behind them a fiddle was played, people were dancing. Again the three Councillors spoke and now things began to happen, groups formed and people went forward.

"Marriage ceremonies," Sheeta said, "solstice dawn is the most favoured time for weddings. Today we have," she stood on tip toe counting, "five. Five couples."
"Do you wish it was us?" he asked.
"In some ways yes, in others, no. On solstice dawn there are always multiple weddings. It's a beautiful time to be married but it's never private. When it happens for us I would like it to just be us."
"It will be. Soon. I promise. No matter what happens, what men do or think, it will be soon."

A lot of people stayed for the weddings, others began to walk back to the villages, there didn't seem to be any strict procedure. Pazu stayed still, not paying particular attention to the marriages but not wanting to go either. He just wanted this to not end. The dawn had had a profound effect on him. It wasn't just that it was a beautiful location or that it had been a spectacular sunrise, the thing that had affected him most was the crowd, the sense of wonder and belonging he had felt pouring out of these simple farming people. They were indeed people of the soil. For the first time he really connected to that. What use did these communities have for flying machines, steam engines and motor lorries?

"We can go back when you like. The Solstice dawn breakfast will be taking place soon."
"I'd like to stay here for a little longer."
"That's alright. Anywhere with your arms around me is fine for me."
"Sheeta, I'm changed."
"Hm? What do you mean?"
"This day, last night. The prayers. This sunrise, these people. This land. Your home. It's affecting me. I can feel it."
"Is it a good feeling?"
"Yes, very good. Now I understand why you want to be here. This is a wonderful place, these are wonderful people."

She put her arms around her own middle, hugging his arms.

"I'm glad," she said
"Flying is in my blood. I still want to do it, build machines… but, this place. I just love it. Sheeta it's like I've come home. I was once here. I know I was. Long ago."
"I know my love. I've known that a long time. It's good to have you back."
"All I have to worry about is the people who don't want me home."
"Do whatever you need to do, Paetsu. I am always with you."
"Yau taemo. Yau al-dhu' ulve om."

She lifted his hands from her middle and kissed them.

"All I want is to be your harbour."
"And I want only to rest in you."
"Come. Breakfast," she turned her head and smiled at him, "and the giving of gifts."
"I know."
"You do?"
"Yes, Shuna said so, at the inn."
"Hm, so he did."
"I have something for you."
"Thank you, and I have something for you."
"Alright, let's go back."

He looked up again at the sunrise, the sun was well above the horizon now and too bright to look at. The mist in the fields was almost burned off. It was going to be another beautiful day.

--I--
---o-o-oOo-o-o---
I I

Everything these people did, they did it like they would die tomorrow. Pazu liked that, the commitment they put into enjoying themselves, the quality of even simple open fire cooking, the emotion of the singing and their dancing. They danced as though the last dance really was the last they would ever have. Those two days of Suethelhin had an effect on him that changed him, he turned from an outsider to one who wanted to be inside, be a part of this life. He made a silent commitment to himself that he would stay here until the day he died, he couldn't think of anywhere he would rather be.

They shared a huge breakfast feast of simple food although this meal used exclusively food from the soil, vegetables and breads – no fish or meat at all. It was a recognition of new life growing, winter over, spring approaching. There were a variety of dishes. Sheeta named them but he couldn't recall the names, only the amazing flavours, the different heats and spices and sauces. It was a hot meal, hot flavouring. It warmed you up, and it made you thirsty.

So after breakfast people recommenced drinking, and the party went on all day. In the late morning he needed fresh air and he asked Sheeta to come outside with him. They walked through the village and down to the lake. Here there was a wooden quay and small fishing boats moored alongside. The lake was flat, calm and dark. The mountains beyond rising like the fortress walls of the gods. The place was almost deserted, just a few people around doing essential jobs, or like them, taking a rest from the party, a gulp of air before diving back in.

They sat on the wooden jetty and dangled their legs over the dark water.

"How are you feeling?" she asked
"Tired. Not enough sleep. And crispy. I need a bath. Sorry, I'm not very nice close to right now."
"I'll be the judge of that," she said, nuzzling her face against his neck, "Mmm… Paetsu sweat, my favourite."
"Oh, you're horrible."
"And up here?" she tapped his head
"Yes, positive about things now. I was very confused recently. Exasperated but now I want to face it all and get going, whatever happens."
"What if it comes to fighting?"
"You know I just can't believe it will. I don't think people are that stupid. And I am going to do everything in my power to not provoke anyone."
"And how about here?"

Her voice was gentler, and she put her hand on his chest, over his heart.

"I feel fantastic, Sheeta. I'm home and I finally know I'm home. And I'm in love. And I'm ready to commit to you for ever. Be with me through this."
"I will."

She leaned against him and hugged him.

"Hm, I have something for you, let me get it, come on."

She stood and held out her hand, inviting him up.

--I--
---o-o-oOo-o-o---
I I

They were back in the communal hall.

"Here," she grinned, "sorry they didn't have a box for it, so I got you a bag."

He took the black velvet bag. It was quite large and there was something hard and lumpy yet light inside it. He pulled open the draw string and put his hand in. He knew what it was the moment his fingers touched it. He drew the thing out. A trumpet. It looked like a good one too. He held it up and slipped his hands onto it, wiggling the three valves. They closed and came up again smoothly.

"Where did you get it?"
"Penraeth. The first day when you were being questioned. There's a cleaning kit in the bag too. I don't know the first thing about trumpets. Is it a good one?"
"I think so, and all the bits are there."

He looked at her warily.

"You're going to want me to play aren't you."

She put her hands behind her back and made big eyes at him.

"Well, alright then. But first," he reached behind him and picked up a brown parcel, "for you."
"Oh!"
"Surprised?"
"Yes! How did you get time to get me anything?"
"I asked a friend in the village to make it. She knew a lot more about these things than me. I just knew what colour and what decorations to have on it. Go on, open it."

It was a traditional Gondoan shirt. It was bright green and had a very deep vee neck with a wooden clasp to hold that closed which was carved in the shape of a mushroom. Around the stand up collar, the big cuffs and the hem was a decoration of heavy orange stitching which was made up of mushroom shapes and broad Moyo leaves. There was a soft cotton orange rope belt. She unfolded it and held it up.

"Poki," he said, "and Moyo leaves. To, uh, remind us."

He stood there, looking, smiling. She didn't know what to say, she was speechless, overcome. Concened, he said,

"Is it alright?"
"Alright? Oh, taeg-Paetsu! Of course it's alright! Oh, my… it reminds me…"
"I thought it would be a nice reminder."
"Nice? Oh, Paetsu, our week in that cave. All the things you did for me."
"Um, well."
"You were so special. Everything you did," she looked from the shirt to him, looked carefully at him, "I mean everything."

He blushed.

"Um."
"Paetsu, it's beautiful, so beautiful. Yau taemo! Yau taemo-dhu. I will always remember. When I wear this, I'll remember."

She was going pink now.

"I wasn't sure if you'd like it. I've not seen you wear that style of shirt yet..."
"No, I'll wear it. It's perfect, wonderful. The colour – I mean where did you get the material?"
"The lady who made it had to order the cloth from Restormel."
"I'm not surprised. This is Laputan Royal Green. You simply can't get it in Gondoa. No one makes it anymore, this dye hasn't been used in Gondoa for years and years. Didn't you know?"
"No."
"I am the only person allowed to wear it."
"Really? You are? I had no idea. I just wanted the same colour as the costume you wore in Penraeth."
"Those are my court robes."
"I never knew. Have I made a mistake? Broken some rule?"
"No, no, no! Paetsu, absolutely not, it's just lovely. The colour and the stitching. I'll wear it often! Who made it?"
"Amadea, Shuna's wife."
"I must thank her."
"They have a new wind pump, by way of thank you. Although I think I got the better deal. So you're pleased?"
"Yes! Oh, you lovely boy! Hug me!"

He did.

"Oh, uh, and it was quite difficult. I just couldn't decide…"
"Decide? What between?"
"The shirt… and this."

He reached down behind him and lifted a second parcel. Her eyes went big, bigger and rounder, big, wide white circles.

"Oh, no! I only got you one gift. You are so embarrassing!"
"Open it then."

He stood back, looking smug, hands in pockets.

"You are spoiling me."

She tore the brown paper. Inside was something soft, made of blue material. A lovely soft, smoke-like blue, the colour of wood smoke on a summer's day.

"It was my fault we lost the old one. I think it must still be in my cabin."

She shook it out and held the dress up. It was exactly like the one she had worn the night they had met. She looked at him and suddenly couldn't hold it in any more, she was leaking with happiness. The tears came and she went to him and held him.

"Thank you. You are such a thoughtful person. I love you so much."
"Least I can do."
"I haven't got anything else for you."
"Yes you have. Look around you. In this hall. In your farm, in your fields, in the woodland and from the top of the hill. This life is your gift to me. I accept it. It's the most wonderful Suethelhin gift I've ever had."
"You've only had one Suethelhin."
"And if I have a hundred more, this will still be the best."
"Paetsu – I don't know what to say. You'll make me cry again."
"Just don't say anything. Let's party. I want to dance with you again."
"Yes, lets. Lets forget all our worries and have fun."
"Teach me more dances."

She looked at him, her smile cheeky.

"Alright, come on, I know some good ones."

She led him by the hand towards the dancers and for a few beautiful precious hours, they became like children again, and forgot.

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11 - 12 April 2007

For author notes about Chapter Forty Five, please see my forum (click on my pen name)