#31 The Bishop
Kirra was visiting Vanora on one of her rare days away from the tavern. She had healed well from her ordeal and Eleven had grown quickly. He was now a pudgy, happy baby of six months, who looked the spitting image of his father – no matter what Lancelot said.
"Kirra lass, how do you do it?" Van asked as they sat near the fire sipping hot tea and enjoying the relative peace.
It was never fully peaceful around Vanora's house – there were too many children for that, but Eleven was asleep in his cradle near the fire and the other children ran about outside playing some game that Kirra had been too tired to join in.
Kirra looked over at her friend in confusion, "Do what?"
Van cocked her head, "Heal."
Kirra was quiet a moment as she considered the answer, "We-ell, you know in the autumn when we are to have a good harvest and everyone feels really good and confident about the upcoming winter?"
"Aye," Vanora said slowly, unsure as to how that related to Kirra's healing power.
"Because everyone is happy and content, they tend to stay well and not get sick. The thing is most everyone is capable of healing themselves, they just don't know how to concentrate that inner power in the right area. I happen to be able to do just that and focus it on others."
"But, don't you use the goddess?" Van asked suspiciously.
Kirra nodded, "Yes, I can channel her help through the songs and chants I use; she helps change the water and gives me instincts for things I've not done before. Sometimes it's as if I hear a little voice in my head and it tells me what to do, other times, I just know what to do."
Vanora gave her friend a skeptical look, "Voices?"
Kirra laughed, "It sounds crazy when you say it that way. Mostly I just know what to do – and you have to remember I was taught by a Fate, maybe that has something to do with it."
"What is the whole story behind that?" Van asked haltingly.
Kirra looked up, startled. It had been a long time since she had been asked about that time and for a moment she wasn't sure how to answer or if it would matter at this point if she told the whole truth.
"You've never said anythin' and I've tried not to meddle too much, but I would like to learn the truth about that and about you and Gawain."
Kirra laughed, "You just want fodder for gossip."
A frown creased Vanora's brow and she feigned hurt, "Now, that was uncalled for, lass. You know I don't gossip about friends – just everyone else."
"Yeah, yeah. I've heard you discussing the men before."
"They don't count. They're pig headed bastards the lot of 'em."
Kirra sighed, "All right. I guess it won't hurt anything, being so close to the time the men are to receive their papers."
Arthur and his men were currently on their last mission to find and escort the Bishop who was to give them their release papers to the fort in safety. They had been gone for three days and were expected at any time.
"As you know, I am of Tristan's tribe. I was born out on the steppes some twelve years after him and grew there until a little after he was taken. I got sick – really sick and because the goddess knew what talents were hidden in me, she sent Niara, her oldest Fate, to take me away."
Van frowned, "That doesn't seem right."
"No, but it happened and there was nothing I could do to prevent it. Anyway, I was taken to a place for lost children and there I was adopted by my parents."
"There's nothin' too unusual with that, Kirra, nothin' worth hidin' at least."
Kirra grinned and looked Van straight in the eyes, "My adoptive mother was born in the year nineteen hundred and seventy-six."
Vanora was silent a moment before she blinked and gasped. Kirra nodded encouragement.
"Yeah, I was raised fifteen hundred years from now. So, you can see why I wouldn't want to spread that around."
"How did Gawain find you?"
"He fell through some portal, I guess. He had been very badly injured in a battle and was dying, that may have helped. As silly as it sounds we had to fall in love and get married in order to return." She pulled the chain she always wore out from the bodice of her dress and showed Vanora the strange double-sided, gold and silver key. "One is his and the other is mine, each needing the other to open certain doors."
"Married, eh? I thought as much."
Kirra grinned, "That would explain a lot, huh?"
"More than you know, lass."
Vanora sat quiet long enough for Kirra to finish her tea, then asked, "Why was all that important?"
Kirra took a deep breath, "I've often asked myself that question. Niara, the Fate, said I was saved to come back here and help the knights survive. The stories I learned as a child being raised where I was, lead me to believe that something big is going to happen and that Arthur will need all of his strongest knights around him to help him through it." She paused thoughtfully, "And Tristan and I are all that are alive of our tribe capable of bearing children. I don't know why our blood would be so important, but it is enough that I was saved and sent back to look after his obstinate butt as well."
"That's a task in and of itself." Vanora commented with a laugh.
Kirra giggled as well, "I know."
"Is it hard for you here?" Vanora's tone was suddenly sober.
Kirra pursed her lips, "In the beginning it was hard. Gawain made it easier, but there were so many things you would consider a miracle that were to me an everyday thing that I had such a hard time without." She paused then continued with a grin, "And than there was the food. Some of the stuff I still haven't gotten used to and I miss some things so much. What I wouldn't give for a piece of the most disgusting chocolate or for a cold, day-old Quarter Pounder."
Van had no idea of what Kirra spoke, "And now?"
"I have been here long enough that my old life seems like a dream. My life and purpose is here and now and, truthfully, I wouldn't change that for anything. I do miss my mother, though. My memories of her are still bright and undimmed."
Before Vanora could continue in her interrogation, her oldest son and the only one of her children with a proper name, came clattering into the house.
"Da's back, Mam."
Vanora stood and lifted Eleven from his bed, wrapping him carefully against the brisk breeze of early spring. Kirra gathered their cups and put them on the wash board and followed Van out of the little house.
"Can you believe they'll finally be free of all this?" Kirra asked, gesturing to the fort. "I've never asked, but what are your plans?"
""Well's far as we've talked about it, and given the number of children we have, we'll be stayin' put. My brothers are here and Bors doesn't remember his family. He says they may not accept me and the children anyways."
"I've never thought of that." Kirra said thoughtfully.
"What, lass?"
"How my family will take Gawain. Tristan says our tribes are rivals. It may not go over so well."
Van looked over at her young friend, "Don't worry about it now, Kirra. There'll be plenty of time for that later. Right now, let's concentrate on being happy. Our men will soon be free and we can really begin our lives."
"Will it be that easy, Van?" Kirra asked. She was more tired than usual and had felt a cloud hanging over her for the past couple of days. She was wary as to what it meant, if anything.
"After all we've been through, we deserve easy." Vanora said in a firm tone as if she could command fate.
Kirra only nodded, wishing it were so and life were fair.
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Germainus was just handing off his mount when two women and a flock of children flooded the stable. The children and the older woman with a baby on her hip congregated noisily around one of the knights. While the other made her graceful way to the fairest of Arthur's men and threw herself in his arms for a strangely intimate embrace.
He raised an eyebrow as he watched the woman, who had stepped back from the man and was laughing joyfully at his safe return. Her laughter was low and throaty. The mysteriously sexy laughter of a woman that made his gut clench. He watched as she eyed the man closely then rose on tiptoe to touch a thin cut on his throat with a disapproving expression on her exotic face. She folded her arms and listened to the man with obvious coolness, shaking her head every now and then, as he explained what it was had occurred. It was not hard to see her disapproval.
"Who are the woman, Arthur?" Germanius asked.
The commander looked over from where he was issuing orders to a few clustered servants and then turned his attention to the objects of the Bishop's inquiry, "They are the women of two of my men. The dark-haired woman happens also to be the sister to one and their healer as well."
"She will look after my men?"
The question was cool, almost offhanded but at it, Arthur met the Bishop's eyes and noticed that the he was not the only man watching Kirra with hooded eyes; many of the Roman soldiers were staring hungrily after the small woman.
"That is up to her. She came to Briton of her own free will to look after her countrymen. She tends to stay away from the soldiers as many consider her a witch." He explained, alarmed at what he saw in the Bishop's face.
"She is pagan?" Again the question was too innocently put.
"In a manner of speaking. I have a very fine physician already sent for who will tend your wounded men, Bishop." Arthur was calm, his features carefully composed, but concern had set in and he knew it would be best to mention something to Tristan or Gawain about keeping a close eye on Kirra – if they hadn't noticed. Glancing up he saw Tristan watching with a closed expression on his face.
The Bishop waved a dismissive hand, "That would be better." He said, hiding his interest under the thought that having a pagan tend his men would be less than appropriate. Without a seeming second glance, Germainus followed his servant, Horton, to the quarters he would be using during his stay. Arthur watched him go before turning and catching Tristan's eye once more. The dark scout made no indication that he understood, but melted into the shadows to watch and wait.