Lunamae (2 page)

“Lunamae has arrived.”

I was thirteen and my mother hurriedly
dressed me up in the best clothes she could find of mine, even
though I was fully capable of dressing myself. I had a chemise with
a bodice and skirt over top. Since it was a little chilly as would
be expected nearing the autumn equinox in the month of Sedyfr,
Mother insisted I also wear a scarf. I was rushed out of the house
and taken along with her to the keep. It was barely a few hours
after dawn and the air was especially cold with a northern breeze
coming through the village.

“What are we doing, where are we going?” I
asked curiously, scratching my legs. The skirt was made of wool and
was itching. I just wanted the itching to stop. Even though I did
have a chemise under it, I could still feel spikes every now and
then from the coarse fabric.

My mother stopped for a second and gazed up
at the sky. “There is still some time so I can tell you,” she said.
She knelt down so she could look at me eye-to-eye. “Remember what
the chief dame said about the next generation starting the new
fosterage?” I nodded in recollection. “Her daughter Lunamae is the
beginning of her new generation. She will be a dalta to me. You
will be her foster-sister as well as her cousin by blood.”

The thought of my parents having another
child through birth never crossed my mind. Even though my mother
was not old, she seemed fine with the amount of children she had.
Lunamae would be a foster-child, otherwise known as a dalta. My
parents would care for her as their own until she was twelve. Then
I would assume she’d live with another set and then go back to her
mother. In our village we were never far from our parents even in
altram. My parents always checked up on me so I didn’t think my
foster-parents were my real ones. I expected my aunt, the chief
dame, to do the same.

I was led up to the keep, a little unsure of
the whole situation. As much as a sister would be nice for
conversation, this was a baby we were getting. In our village we
didn’t consider any offspring to be children until they could talk.
In my opinion, babies were only good for crying, whining, and
dirtying themselves. I hoped I didn’t get the duty of changing and
cleaning the undergarments. I had never been taught how to do that
of course as Mother hadn’t another child younger than I. Of course,
she would have to teach me sooner or later as I needed to know to
be a proper housewife for when the time came, but I wasn’t keen on
learning.

The keep was very basic. It had four towers
on each side, with staircases in those towers leading to the second
level. The first level contained a living area, a dining area, and
another room which was used for occasions such as this and aptly
named the hall of duty. Like most rooms in the keep, there was a
fireplace. Due to the temperature this time of year, I could
already tell by the smell they were all lit. The air contained the
scents of wood, pinecones, and cinnamon. Chief Dame Angharad always
liked to add cinnamon, imported from Fanarion, as a special touch
and make the atmosphere cozier. I would rather drink it in a cider
than smell it mixed with smoke. The amount she put in made my lungs
burn and my eyes water a bit.

We had walked through the doorway of the keep
when I turned around to take a look behind me, the Humble Bridge
was stretched out eerily in front although I could see some
travelers going across and they didn’t seem to fall. There would be
a time when I would need to use the bridge but I was hoping it
would be later rather than sooner.

The door was closed by two guards and I
turned forward to take in the familiar surroundings. My father
would have been entitled to live here had he not married a woman
from another clan, but it was perfectly fine with him. Since it
smelled so much it was fine with me too. We were able to move about
freely enough, and as my mother was a matron, we did have a small
area in the keep where we could have a bit of quiet to ourselves.
Most of the women there did needlework quietly or read the
illuminated manuscripts delivered by the clergy at Bexweth. I of
course had the gift of gab rather than sewing so my mother rarely
let me go with her.

The entrance to the keep was quite wide since
the staircases to the next level were spiral and contained within
the towers. The entryway was a large room with a fireplace
perpendicular from the entrance doorway. To either side of the
fireplace was a door. One door led to the room for feasting and the
other to the room for ceremony and other duties of the leader. The
walls were of stone which might have explained why the cliff under
the bridge is so deep. There were a few tapestries on either side
that my mother along with the women had made over the course of
five years. It was nice to see them actually completed and hung as
I hadn’t been in the keep recently, mostly because Aunt Angharad
and my mother were cranky. Most of the people in the keep were
familiar to me as were also most in the village—save a few friars
who had come from Bexweth to prepare a blessing. We were all
related in some form. The clan made sure to marry outside the clan
every once in awhile, like my father did, to keep the bloodlines
strong. Intermarriage can cause issues with children. I heard
that’s why the Rees who fostered me lost their first son. There
were some issues with the lungs and he died a babe.

We entered through the door on the left into
the hall of duty. Most of the room was full of my relatives. My
father was standing beside Chief Dame Angharad and she had a small
crib with the babe Lunamae nestled quietly inside, although she was
standing up in it and using the rails as support. At her age she
would almost be able to walk. I was happy they decided to wait
slightly later in the year as I had my parents to myself rather
than sharing them over the summer with this new little one who
would most likely need plenty more attention than I. The month of
Nachfyr was reaching ever so quickly and soon the winter snow would
keep us all huddled together in our quaint house. We were prepared
for the winter. My father shod enough horses to be able to provide
for us, and given the fosterage of Lunamae, the heir, we had been
granted a small allowance for extra care for her.

“Hello Muirenn, my sweet little niece.” My
aunt waved me forward and gave me a light embrace. She was tall and
slender and her solis-kissed hair swept over me when she put her
arms around me. The air was thick from the amount of bodies in it
but I overcame the atmosphere to reply.

“Not
so
little,” I said with a smile.
“I have grown a bit this year, Father says.” My father beamed
proudly at me from Angharad’s side. We had a branch with notches in
it to track my progress and these past few years there were many
new notches.

The chief dame let me go and then looked
around the room. “Your brother Logan is not here I see.” She sighed
in disappointment. “The battle has not been easy on any of us.” She
looked at the ring on her hand. The one she had been given as she
pledged a life with Chieftain Leofric years prior. The ring seemed
lonely without its mate, buried underneath Moir Awin.

“But there are reasons to rejoice.” Angharad
smiled widely, looking down on her daughter with loving eyes. “New
life will always prevail through destruction. Let it be said.”

“May it be so,” all in the room answered. The
friars moved forward, unveiling some precious holy water, a sign of
the Creator, and the Text of Illumination that would be given to
the new child in preparation of a life in dedication to the
Creator. This was not only a ceremony of fosterage, but humility.
Angharad would show her allegiance to the Creator by gifting the
life of Lunamae to him. One of the friars—they called him
Barri—took out a few drops of the water and sprinkled it on
Lunamae. The drops touched her crystalline face but she didn’t
care. She cooed with happiness and lifted her arms up.

“In the name of the Creator we give thanks
for this child. We pray your protection upon the child and the
family who will now care for her. Give them strength, hope, and
patience.” The friar turned to my father and questioned, “Do you
accept responsibility for Lunamae? Do you and your family promise
to teach her in the studies of nature, reading, writing, and the
good habits of women? Do you promise to protect her from all evils?
Do you promise to teach her in the law of the Creator and help her
understand the Text of Illumination?”

My father answered quite confidently, “We
do.” Now I know the friar was asking the whole family and my father
answered for us all, but in that moment I realized I would have to
be more than just a foster-sister. I would have to be a teacher
too. Logan didn’t have the sense to teach this babe. My mother
would be too busy attending Angharad, and my father had his farrier
business. At least I had a few more years before much instruction
would be needed. The only thing Lunamae needed right now was care
and love.

The chief dame lifted Lunamae up out of the
crib and handed her to my mother, and the babe reached for the
golden strands of Angharad’s locks.

“No my child,” Angharad said lovingly, taking
the hand of Lunamae and gently removing it from her hair. “It is a
new step in your life. You must go with them. You will still see me
often and know I am still your mother.” The babe looked at her and
an expression which could only be described as puzzlement crossed
her face and she started uttering gibberish. My mother took Lunamae
in her arms and smiled widely at her, the little one returning the
gaze with a pout.

“It’ll be all right, tiny one,” I said,
placing a hand over her head which was starting to be densely
covered with delicate threads of gold as well, like her mother. The
softness of the hair startled me and I quickly moved my hand
away.

“Come now, Muirenn,” my mother offered. “Your
father and I need to finish our preparations in the house. When she
is bigger she can share the loft with you but for right now she
must sleep and play in the main living area where it is safer.”
Lunamae waved her little hand at Angharad as we left, my father
trailing us (he had the gifts from the friars in his hands).

We walked out of the ceremony room and headed
out of the keep. My mother passed Lunamae to me as she tried to
help my father with carrying items. If she was any larger, I might
have had trouble, but I had helped my father start chopping and
stacking firewood behind our house so my arms had gotten stronger.
Lunamae toyed with my scarf and brown hair and make nonsensical
noises as I walked ahead of the rest of the family.

The house had smoke coming from the fireplace
chimney as we approached so Logan must have been awake and tending
it. The smell of woodsmoke from outside a building was what I
loved. It wasn’t as dense as the keep. I shifted Lunamae on my hip
and my mother got in front of me to open the door. Logan had a
poker in his hand and was stoking the fire.

“Thought it’d take longer,” he mumbled. He
put the poker down and sat nearby.

“It was quicker than most typical ceremonies.
It is rather cold out and I’m sure the chief dame wanted Lunamae in
a nice warm house as soon as possible,” my mother replied. She
motioned for the babe and I set Lunamae down. She hobbled over to
Logan and hugged his leg. He only sat there.

“What am I supposed to do?” he wondered. He
looked a bit disgusted at the friendliness of this little girl and
the forwardness of her affection.

“Just watch her while I make her something to
eat. She is passed weaning and I can give her solid foods now.
There is a bit of mashed pumpkin bits I used for a pie and some
carrots I can soften up for her,” Mother said curtly. My father
went into his room and shut the door.

“I can take her if you don’t want her,” I
offered Logan, whose face softened slightly. He waved me off with
his good arm and answered,

“No. It’s all right. She acts as though I’m
normal. I like that.” I looked into Logan’s face and saw a glimmer
of happiness I hadn’t seen in years. He had nut-brown hair like I
did and dark brown eyes but the battle changed him somehow and
those eyes always seemed different. I noticed his face was getting
a little prickly. He was due for a shave. Father always helped him
with that since he wasn’t quite so adept with his left. He had been
working on it and every day he practiced using it. He tried to do
it secretly. I always seemed to catch a peek through the
floorboards in the loft when my parents went to bed.

A few minutes later my mother came back with
mashed up foods and a small wooden spoon. I vaguely remembered that
spoon from my time as a toddler. She ushered Lunamae to her and
proceeded to let her try to feed herself. She did amazingly well,
but she should at such an age anyway.