Chapter Sixty Two – Gifts

The group of people got no response to their knocking and stepped cautiously in. Downstairs all was undisturbed; the oil lamps had burned out and the fire was dull and low, merely embers. Despite the late hour it was clear that no-one had been down here this morning. Amadea and her neighbour went up the stairs. The upper landing retained its cloth divides and the small room was full of furniture just as the men had left it.

"Are they still asleep?"
"It is past ten, surely not?"

Amadea peeped in the bedroom but of course could see nothing but the cream and red baffles. She listened carefully. Nothing. Not a sound.

"Hello? Sheeta? Hello?"

No response.

"Hello?"

She turned to her companion.

"Tell the men to come up. They can clear the parlour and the stair and landing and at least put the furniture back in the downstairs rooms. But make sure they are as quiet as they can."
"Are they still sleeping?"
"They must be," Amadea was puzzled, "unless they rose early and went out."
"Well," her companion chuckled, "Perhaps they didn't get much sleep."
"Now shush you, let us have no talk like that. I will close the door and leave them in peace. Come, we can lay out a cold breakfast for them."

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

She opened her eyes and he was there. For a few moments she merely lay and let the delightful recollection of the previous day and night fall over her. She was married, a married woman.

married to him

him

Pazu

The simple thought of it filled her with happiness. She had wanted this day for a long time, had known it was right for her, for far longer than he. It had been a long slow journey, gradually getting him to come with her, to see what it was that she was showing him, what she wanted. Leading him around that corner down a new path. But they had got there in the end, he had got there, despite it all, all the troubles, all the dangers, all the worry. She and he were. Home.

She lay for a while, her arms around him, hugging, holding. Then she kissed his neck and sat up. It was full day, but what time she had no idea. It could even be afternoon for all her senses would tell her. The fire had gone out. She wrapped part of the red bedding around herself and went to the window. A twinge low down told her to move slowly, carefully. hm, sore.

The scene outside told her morning, the direction and colour of the light was enough, she'd looked on this view enough mornings to place the hour at past eleven and that was shocking enough. Tucking the end corner of the silk sheet in under one armpit so it would not unwind, she found her way out of the room.

She stopped and stared at the landing. The coloured screens were all gone, the wooden framework too. She went downstairs and in the parlour the long table had been placed in the centre of the room, the easy chairs to one side. A fire crackled cheerfully in the hearth and a meal was prepared. Their friends had come back this morning and done this. She smiled in thanks to them. On the table were bread, butter, preserves, pickles, bomao cake, cereal, cordial. She poured herself a goblet of apple juice and went to the kitchen. All was normal, the fire was clean and fresh and well built up. She opened the back door and stood on the flagstones, drawing in a deep breath. She went over to one corner where the sun fell and let it touch her. She sipped her drink. She closed her eyes. Spring was definitely here now, it was warm.

She felt, understandably, a little grubby and crispy and her hair was a complete mess, tangled in a stubborn mat down her back. A bath. That was what she needed. He could sleep while she bathed then later they would share breakfast. She filled the large copper kettle from the kitchen pump and hung it over the fire, then opened the scullery door to get the tin bath down.

She stopped in the doorway. What? Where was her scullery? She stood, stunned by the sight she found there, her mouth open. Had he done this?

"Pazu!"

She turned and ran back up the stairs, into the bedroom and got her self hopelessly tangled up in the hanging cloths there.

"Pazu! Wake up!"

Her silk covering unwound and came off but she found the bed, falling onto it and shaking his shoulder.

"Wake up! Come on, taeg Pazu. Why didn't you tell me?"
"Hnnn.."
"Come on you, you've had enough sleep. Now. Wake. Up."

She pulled at his shoulder with each syllable.

"Again?"
"What?"
"Too tired. Not again…"
"Oh, for heaven's sake! Put those thoughts away and wake up. Show me this."
"What?"

He opened his eyes. She was there, he registered that much. She had nothing on and she wanted something, this was all that made sense so far, and he was in no condition to provide what he thought she wanted.

"Up, come on, husband! Get up!"
"Nnnn… sleepy."

She looked around, wondering how to get him to waken. Then, an idea. She put her mouth to his and kissed him.

"Hmm… no more. Enough."

He wriggled away from her grasp.

"No, come here, I want it again."

He sat up. Suddenly.

"I said no, what is the matter with you? Haven't you had enough? What time is it?"
"Nearly summer, now get up. You have something to show me I think."
"I do?"
"Downstairs. The scullery."
"Scullery?"
"Yes! My scullery! Where is it?"
"What do you mean where is it?"
"I don't have one anymore."

She wasn't making sense. Hadn't he been working there this last week, changing it?

"Yes you do."
"Don't."
"Do."
"Show me then."
"What is the matter with you? Here, I'll show you."

He rolled off the bed, took her hand and walked straight into two heavy cream panels, tripping and falling headlong. Timber crunched and part of the framework collapsed onto them. She squealed as she was pulled down with him.

"Oi!"
"Uhn. What?"

He rolled over and tried to rub his shoulder but was too entangled, her weight was on him and his brain was too furry to deal with all this. He felt her warm hands at his side, unwinding the cloth from under him.

"No, clumsy boy, not that way," she giggled, "We have to go around the cloths. Don't you remember?"
"Uh, sort of. I think."

He did, almost. Remember. He remembered lots of things. But he was sure some things hadn't come back to him yet. For a minute he lay on his back and let her hands touch him and untangle him while those things came back, some of them anyway. He certainly remembered the wedding. Which was good. If he forgot that he thought she might have a few things to say about it. He remembered she had worn the most wonderful dress. Or almost worn it. He was still convinced she'd forgotten to put the top half on. And smoking the telle. Yes, he definitely remembered that. And after that, they had come here, Shuna and the brothers and him. Flying on horseback. Over the houses. And then. Hm, yes, and then. He remembered all of that now. Well, parts of it. Parts of it were so stunningly vivid in his mind he thought he'd never forget them. He lazily put a finger to his lips recalling a certain taste. But eventually, later in the night things began to lose definition and events and sounds and smells merged into one long. What? One long happening. Yes, that word would do. A happening. It had been a good happening and it had gone on a long time. He recalled sharp peaks and events in it, and he particularly and clearly remembered the important things they'd talked about as dawn was breaking.

It was no good, she wouldn't leave him alone. She wanted something and he wasn't sure if it was something he could provide, not in his condition, anyway.

"Come on, up with you. I want an explanation."

He looked at his left hand. A gold ring was on the third finger.

"Sheeta, look."

She looked at it.

"Yes, I've got one just like it, now come downstairs."
"No, I mean. Look. I… I love you. It means I love you."

She looked again. Then at him.

"Forever," he added.

And suddenly she loved him too. Despite him being a sleepy, dopey, useless lump, she loved him.

"Lover," she said, "kiss me."
"Mmm…"

A few minutes later.

"Now, come. I want to show you…"
"We've got nothing on."
"That doesn't matter, quickly."

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

"You know, you're right," he said, "Someone came and stole your scullery."
"What are you saying?"
"We need to tell Councillor Kamaesa, call a Gathering. Have a meeting. Jump up and down and shout a lot."

She looked at him, frowning.

"Don't you think we should?" he looked at her
"Are you alright?"
"No, I'm not. There's a scullery thief on the loose. He needs to be stopped!"
"Pazu you can't steal a room."
"Someone has. Look!"

He walked in, pointing at things.

"There used to be some old wooden shelves here, they've been stolen. The old washtub – well, where's that gone? And even the chimney breast is changed. That was there, and now it's here. And what's all this – this metal cylinder? And this low raised area with a bath in it? Hm? Where did all that come from? That's what I want to know. And tiling. The tiling is all new. And look, someone's put a water pump in here as well. Sheeta there are some very strange things going on. Our house might even be haunted."

Sheeta leaned against the door frame and crossed her arms over her chest.

"Have you quite finished?"

He stopped, frozen in the act of pointing at a pipe that ran from the new boiler to the built in bath.

"Well," he frowned, "I didn't actually get time to completely finish. I did miss a bit of tiling. Here. Um. And here."

She stared at him, enthusiastic, pointing, naked and lovely. She smiled. How could she not?

"It's a beautiful room, Pazu. Thank you very much."

He dropped his hands.

"You like it? Someone even stole part of the wall and put a window in instead. I hope you don't mind?"
"Mind? How can I mind? It's simply lovely. You did this all last week?"
"Yes."
"No wonder I learned more about what to do in the bedroom than you did, you spent your time redecorating."
"Uh, sorry. Next time we marry I promise I'll listen to Shuna better."
"No need. I learned enough for both of us. I'll lead, you follow, does that sound like it'll work?"
"I don't know," he scratched his head, "Sounds a bit complicated to me," he grinned at her like an idiot, "I've a better idea. How about you bathe and I scrub your back?"
"Now," she smiled back, unfolding her arms and walking to him, and slipping her arms round his neck, "that sounds like a plan."
"This is my wedding present to you."
"Pazu. Thank you. It's beautiful."
"I was inspired by that lovely bath house they had in the inn in Restormel."
"So that's why it seemed familiar. I wondered where I'd seen this before."
"Look, let me show you…"

Pazu had built a raised area at one side of the room, opposite the door. It had a planed and varnished timber benchwork top and earthenware enameled tiles along the front edge and also part way up the wall behind. Set into the benchwork was a tin bath, a big one. There were even two tiled steps so you could climb up onto the wooden bench and step down into the bath. Pazu had cut a drain hole at one end and laid a soil pipe out under the yard to the field where it drained into a sump he'd dug. The old chimney breast beside the grain tower wall had been blanked off and he'd opened up a new breast that backed onto the main chimney of the parlour, adding a flue and a raised area where the washtub could go, to the left of the door as you came in. On the other side of the new chimney was a steel boiler on legs heated by exhaust gases from the fire. A water pipe led from the boiler to the bath, closed by a hand valve.

He had laid new clean floorboards, waxed and polished and had plastered the whole of the room above the enameled tiles with white distemper, making the room seem big and bright. A slatted wooden blind could be dropped over the window so people in the yard couldn't see in.

"And," he gleefully demonstrated, "best of all. I tapped an artesian well under the yard. I didn't know there was one. You know that funny smelling medicine woman who lives near the top of the village?"

Sheeta giggled.

"You mean Mother Whindera? The most respected medicine lady in the county?"
"That's the one. The nutty one with the nose hair, well she came and had these two sticks in her hands and wandered around our yard for ten minutes and told me we had an artesian well near the corner of the yaoko shed."

Sheeta was still laughing, one hand over her mouth. nose hair

"So I ran a collection pipe to it and fitted a pressure valve. And," he stepped back and with a flourish turned a spigot. Clean clear water began to flow from a pipe into a bucket.
"How's it doing that?" Sheeta asked.
"It's an artesian well. Water trapped under ground in the rocks under pressure. So you don't need to pump it out. It's sitting there in this pipe all the time. You just turn the valve and out it comes. No pumping, no priming, nothing. And a second pipe runs to the boiler. So for a bath you just open this valve for about five minutes to fill the boiler, light a good hot fire for about thirty minutes and there you have it. Turn that valve and steaming hot bathwater!"
"You did all this?"
"Hm," he beamed at her.
"In a week?"
"Well, I had a few other things to do with Shuna and the men. That was a bit annoying. Some girl insisted on marrying me so I got distracted. I think in all I had about three days to do this, and a couple of evenings."
"You did this? In three days?"
"Yes."
"Alone?"
"It's alright isn't it?"
"Pazu! Of course it's alright. It's… it's wonderful! It's the best thing anyone's ever given me."
"That's good. Now, about that bath. I'll just fill the boiler and get a fire going."
"Come here."

She held out her hand. He took it.

She led him back through the kitchen, through the parlour (he grabbed a strip of poto bread as he went by – he was starving) and to the front door. She opened it and stepped out.

"Wait. We're not wearing anything," he spat poto crumbs over her chest, "oh, sorry."

He reached out and brushed them off. She merely watched.

"When you've quite finished…"
"Missed one. Sorry," he touched her again, "There. Ah, no. Um, one more."

He reached out again, brushing her gently, tenderly.

"Pazu! This is not the time!"
"Sorry. I could have sworn that was a crumb."
"This is our yard. High walls. Closed gate. So no one will see us. And it's a lovely warm sunny day. Come on."

She led him by the hand to the yaoko shed. At the house end of it was a dividing wall making a stable and the stall where she kept Immy. She took him in. Immy was there, and the chestnut gelding Khuaema had lent Pazu yesterday. They stood in silence a moment.

"Khuaema left the horse," he voiced what was completely obvious.
"He did leave the horse, yes," she answered.
"And?"
"His name is Luth'Huernen. Khuaema told you, I think?"
"Yes, Swift Horizon. He's a fine animal."
"You like him?"
"I do, he's magnificent."
"Good. It'll take a bit to get used to his ways so the horse dealer told me. He can be quite excitable, but I'm sure there will be plenty of time for you to get to know him."

Pazu was silent for a minute.

"You mean?"
"Yes," she smiled a huge sunlit grin.
"He's…?"
"He is, yes."
"You mean, not only do we have a scullery thief in the village but someone is using our stable to put stolen horses in as well?"
"Pazu! You are impossible!"

She play slapped him but he stepped aside and most of the slap's energy was dissipated against his shoulder.

"Hey, that's husband beating! Stop that!"
"It only counts if I leave marks."

She advanced on him, her bare hand ready.

"Now wait… think carefully about this. Our future relationship…"

She whacked him across his thigh.

"Hey! That hurt!"
"No mark. It doesn't count."

She kept advancing, he was running out of room. He saw the door behind him and edged towards that. She swung again but missed.

"Now look. Think about this. I'm stronger than you and I have longer arms."
"And I have a tongue that'll lash you worse than my hand."
"Our vows, remember our marriage vows. You have to honour me."

He stepped out backwards into the yard.

"I do honour you. With every blow I will honour your body."
"Just not mark it?"
"No, not mark it."
"But you have to obey me too."

They were both outside in the sunshine now.

"You only have to tell me to stop," she chided
"Not yet."
"What? Are you enjoying this?"

His answer was a grin.

"Sheeta, you look magnificent."
"I think so too."

They both froze, staring at each other. Their heads turned slowly towards the voice.

"Enjoying married life then I see, young Pazu?"

Shuna was there, and Amadea, and some of their neighbours, just inside the yard gate.

"We came to tidy up the bedroom for you… but if it is not convenient, we can return later."
"No, no. It's quite alright," Pazu stammered, "Sheeta and I were just…er…"
"Hitting him. I was just hitting him. I thought we'd start straight way so he learns his place now."
"Very wise, Sheeta, I was just the same with Shuna. Only… well we had clothes on," Amadea said, "But we can leave you two to carry on and we will clear the house. It won't take us long."

Smiling she went past, her lady friends looking at Pazu.

"I should think you will need to hurry, wife," Shuna said, "Pazu looks like he might only last another ten minutes."


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3 May 2007

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