1629, Fire Season, Stasis Week, Freezeday
Context
Mellia is at the Temple of Chalana Arroy in Wilmskirk, having arrived there that day. Session 5.W-13.
Events
Evening comes, and it is time to go home. A tall, handsome Orlanthi is waiting to take Mellia home. Venlar has been waiting for Mellia, and sweeps her up into a hug.
Mellia gives Venlar a big, snuggly hug and kiss. “I love you, sweetheart. Things are going better than I imagined. How is our family?”
“Father is miserable and angry, and trying not to show it,” Venlar replies. “He hates not having been able to look after everyone. Nobody was hurt, although Aelna took Rald home – he was released, but he is still scared, I think.”
Mellia looks thoughtful. “I will do what I can to heal the invisible wounds, but that may not be much.”
“Just being yourself should be enough. He’ll want you to look after others. He’s being Orlanthi, after all.” Venlar gives Mellia a soft look. “I ordered a chair to carry you. Do you mind?”
“Not at all, my thoughtful love. Let’s go get my luggage out of here. It’s still in the handcart.”
“Nyteem told me where it was. He offered to push it, but it’s good to make sure we share our wealth.” Venlar gestures to four chair-bearers and an extra hanger-on. Two people would be able to carry Mellia, but he has gone for the whole set. “You get to go shoulder-high.”
“This will get you everywhere,” Mellia says with a teasing smile.
“Oh…” He blushes rather.
Even with the chair hoisted up, Venlar is tall enough to see in and make conversation. “You narrowly missed Varanis,” he says. “They left this morning, for Whitewall once more.”
“Darn. Well, I hope she’ll be fine in Whitewall. Jaldis didn’t tell me what Varanis is doing there. I think Jaldis knows; she wants to hurry home.”
“Oh, how much do you want? I think that is not very secret.” Venlar smiles, and goes on. “Whitewall is seeking a King, thanks to her. She has been sent to ensure a good outcome.”
Mellia giggles. “Gods help her. She’s less political than I am. Where’s my cousin Dormal when we need him?”
“I could not say for sure.” Venlar shrugs. “But your cousin is not as naive as you think. She is, after all, Orlanth in her own person. Is that so bad?”
“Not at all. May Orlanth guide Varanis,” Mellia says.
“She will do well. However, that is what keeps her busy; Whitewall wishes to be joined with Sartar, we hear and hope.” He murmurs the last bit, so the chair carriers will have trouble listening in. “And she helped in defending it against a feint of the Wolf Pirates.”
“Good, good,” Mellia muttered. “I hope Kallyr’s feeling more secure these days.”
Venlar says, “As King, she is more able to trust than when she was a Prince with much to prove.” His voice is careful. “Did you know Varanis lost an arm against the Wolf Pirates? It has apparently ruined one of her tattoos, but magic saved it before the limb died.”
“She WHAT? I can’t leave her alone. Thanks be to the White Lady that someone was able to save the arm.”
This time, Venlar laughs. “Again Orlanthi. I heard she duelled a great chief, but then again I hear a lot of things, and I suspect the accuracy of that may be off-centre. The lady Jaldis no doubt had something to say about it, but of course such things would be idle gossip.” He obviously wants to gossip idly.
“Jaldis was in a bad mood when I saw her. Someone let the fennel bulbs rot.” Mellia happily gossips.
“Oh dear. She asked for Varanis to accompany her here,” Venlar notes. “Meaning of course that Varanis had a reason to arrive without offending King Farinst. He was also captured, incidentally, but saved by King Kallyr.”
“I heard that Serala was here and rescued by Kallyr as well. One of your neighbors is working on an epic about the whole thing.”
“Oh, yes. Serala may also have saved the King, which is politically interesting.” Venlar makes a complicated hand gesture. “And so did the trickster Dev’lin. And ah, here we are. Attending to food and being happy to see father may be the best way, but you will have to steer your own path with him.”
Mellia nods. “May the White Lady guide me.”
Guards greet Venlar with a clash of spear against spear. He reaches up to swing Mellia down from the chair. “Mama is here,” he says, “But very busy. Father asked for her.”
Mellia nods again. “Let’s leave them to talk, unless you think they would welcome an interruption.”
“The last I knew, she was spoiling little Tamakt. She may explode in glee to have…” He looks down at Mellia’s belly. “I can’t believe I’m going to be a father. Twice. When the Priestess said, I was sure I had heard wrong.”
“It’s going to be very real quite soon,” Mellia says with a smile. “Should we save Tamakt from being spoiled?”
“Yes. Or possibly no. Yamia may already be doing so.” Venlar opens the door that leads through to the big hall. There are half a dozen people there, including a pair having a wrestling match by the hearth. At least the fire is out.
Mellia heaves a sigh of relief when she sees the empty hearth. She looks for any people she knows.
The household has a few faces she knows. Heavy on older men, as it always has been, it has a couple of warriors she has healed, and a woman who has a neat hole through her ear where a spear did not quite kill her. Nothing new. There are not many younger women right now, but Thenaya is right there, and is indeed spoiling Tamakt. He is sitting on her knee, gravely accepting being fed, despite being old enough to feed himself and ask for anything he needs.
Mellia would hurry to Thenaya, but Mellia cannot hurry anywhere. She tries to walk instead of waddling to Thenaya and offers her and Tamakt a hug.
Thenaya tries to keep Tamakt, but the boy slips down and bows, freeing up his grandmother to stand. “Mellia, dear. You are looking readier by the day. If you were a wind child, you’d be lining your nest.”
Mellia chuckles. “I am ready for this to be over, Mother. You look well.”
“You’ll be feeding for a while yet. Have you organised a wet nurse? Will you be sharing the work?” Thenaya gives Mellia a hug from the side and a kiss on the cheek. “Your children arrived already. Don’t tell me you went straight to the hospital.”
“I won’t tell you that, then. I haven’t found a wet nurse yet. The way my cousin is behaving, I will need one.” Mellia beams at Thenaya.
“You have a lot of cousins,” Thenaya says uncertainly. “Is one pregnant?”
“Mama, she means Varanis getting into danger.”
“Oh. Well, the best thing to do is to find someone who has a child the age of yours and has extra milk but of course there are other ways. Sheep suckling might work if you have little Voriofs.”
Mellia asks Venlar, “How are the herds? I can ask around the wards; there’s mothers seeking healing.”
“It’s too late in the season for the milk to be good for long, isn’t it?” Venlar looks puzzled.
“It depends on the sheep, dear one. A mother who needs a child would be a kindness, too.” Thenaya reaches down for Tamakt’s hand as he reaches up for hers, like she can tell his movements without looking. “It will be good to have my grandchildren playing together. Have you eaten?”
Mellia shakes her head. “I think I ate lunch on the way here.”
“Oh, sit down and let me get you something, then.” Thenaya points Venlar to a seat as well.
Mellia sits down. “Thank you, Mother. I am hungry now that I am not busy.”
Thenaya takes Tamakt away, and sends him to talk to one of the household women. Without ceremony, food is brought within a few minutes. There is a vegetable stew with bread, and for Venlar some small dried and salted fish in a separate bowl, as seasoning. He smiles widely at it. “I have heard Hengrast is going to be here this evening. He has been around and gone again for too long.”
“Oh, thank you.” Mellia begins to eat her stew. “I am glad Hengrast is well and will be here. How is everyone else doing?”
“Father, I have told you of already. Mama has a pile of weaving for us, and some advice on blankets in the hot seasons. Jengharl is firmly at home, and firmly looking after the clan there. Habela is probably pregnant again, but at the stage you do not congratulate her yet. Yamia… is herself. Mama met us when she brought me down here, and I think Yamia noticed something I did not. Fera is back home.” Venlar pauses to begin eating, with his usual appetite.
Mellia is beginning to inhale her stew while she listens. “I am glad that almost everyone is well. I wonder if I should write to Varanis. Jaldis is in a bad mood and heading home as soon as possible.”
“Is the lady Jaldis ever in a good mood? I think it is all relative. Father told me there was something there I should work out. Alas, I am too stupid, and will have to ask Yamia.”
“Jaldis has been in better moods,” Mellia clarifies. “Perhaps Father thinks that you should make certain that the new king of Whitewall is friendly to our clan.”
“I may be visiting,” Venlar murmurs. “But not until it is settled. A great many people who have rivalries with each other will be circling the city by now. It would be as easy to make enemies as friends, and I am cautious enough not to throw in my chip before I know who will pull it from the pot.”
Mellia nods. “You are wise, my love. I admit that I am tempted to go with you. This is no time to go on adventures, though.”
“It is only a day’s ride, but there would be…” Venlar falls silent as one of the twins moves suddenly, making Mellia’s belly change shape. “… you may be right. Are they fighting in there?”
“I hope not. I am glad that they are not kicking much.”
Venlar rests his hand on the bump for a moment. “I should have said that Rald is with Aelna, but you knew already he was well. Do you have anyone you would like to visit here?”
Mellia thinks while she eats. “I want to see Father, of course. I would like to talk to Fera. Also, if any of the animals are injured, I think Infara can help heal them. She should probably be supervised.”
“We can send for Fera or visit the clanlands,” Venlar says lightly. “Perhaps showing the animals there to Infara would be good. She has a way with sheep but her cow knowledge is la…” He almost inhales stew. “…. chhh king. Lacking.” Her husband seems to have just caught sight of his father coming into the room.
“I think Infara should see the herds,” Mellia says just before she sees Silor. She sets whatever remains of her dinner down, then goes over to him in a hurry and tries to hug him.
Silor gives her a big smile, and an engulfing embrace. “Little white bird, back at your Southern nest. Welcome.”
Mellia beams. “I am glad to be here, Father. How are you? “
“Well enough. I have an ache in my back I was thin…king about seeing to, but little time. You are a welcome sight.” He coughs a little, but gets over it.
“I will take a look at your back when you are ready.” To Mellia’s practiced ear, how bad is that cough?
The cough sounds like he was just clearing his throat, in reflection. “Oh, in your own time,” Silor replies. “It is just age catching me. That grim goddess stabs from behind when not attacking joints.”
“Perhaps tomorrow, unless the pain disturbs your sleep? I fear that I will need to spend some time at the temple. Everyone is healthier than I feared, but I am still needed.”
“I submit me to your will, as I never have to a ruler.” Silor smirks a little. “Are you fed? Watered? Entertained?”
“I am very happy to see you, Father. That’s most of what I needed. For the rest, I have eaten.”
He gives her another hug, this one quicker. “You are a good companion. Venlar’s room is ready, and there is furniture there.”
“Thank goodness,” Mellia says as she hugs Silor. “I admit that I am a bit tired. Jaldis put me right to work.”
“She is not the High Healer there. She should not have done that.” Silor looks like he is plotting something suddenly.
“As is her way, she has taken over. Apparently the herb stores are a rotten mess. For the rest, I came to help.”
“I should see what is going on there.” Silor gives a tiny shrug. He hardly intends to cause trouble at all. “The best thing you can do is probably to free up the time of other White Ladies to go out and be seen.” There, he echoes Jaldis without realising it.
Mellia nods. “So she said. Take heart, she’s trying to get back to Whitewall. I need to pace myself better is all.”
Silor looks wry. “I am sorry to hear I so obviously think like the mildest of goddesses.”
Mellia chuckles. “No, you are wise, Father. Besides, I can’t imagine that anyone would describe Jaldis as mild.”
“Are you planning to stay until the birth?” he asks. “Thenaya would never forgive me if I did not offer.”
Mellia looks thoughtful. “I originally intended to give birth in Blue Tree, but life changes all plans. I am most grateful for your kindness and accept your offer.”
He smiles widely. “Good. The clan or this house will be your roof. For now, I should go circulate and be seen. You rest. You’ve had a long journey.”
Mellia nods. “I hope that I will see you in the morning.”
Silor moves on, looking confident, unworried, maybe even young.
