After having dismissed her father, Feorras (with a smothering of kisses on his huge knobby hands) to attend to the travels of his day, Petra passed from sunlight to firelight. Squinting to focus, she paused to acclimate. Seeing little to bar her passing: she made her way to the center of the dimly lit dwelling. The fire central to their home and much of her mothers life, is where she waited patiently for Cahlien's attention. Younger girls than Petra stood rubbing sleepy eyes, looking intently up at the lithe, un-wilted flower and matron of their clan, Cahlien. Cahlien gave directions to each of the four girls, Dalyce- 3, Lynette- 5, Ishleen- 7, and Shanleigh- 9. Each dispatched with a kiss to their appointed duties. Petra admired Cahlien for a moment or two before their eyes met... "ah meh Pet back from yer oblations I expect...." Swift and gentle Petra slipped the poker from her mothers hand, flipping wheat cakes over on the flat stones placed at the perimeter of the fire. "Aye Ma, and back later than I should be, do yeh love meh still ?".With a giggle she placed the poker back in the hands that were caressing her cheeks. "Lass my heart is stitched to yer words, I love yeh." "Ma.... by your leave, I 'ave some tokens to fetch...." Petra gazing through her batting lashes coaxed. " I see yer wiles lass and ye might better save those fer yer day, I'm no lad and yer not so clever yet.....ah... off wit yerself Pet, but be swift..." In a flurry of locks and kisses she was gone,with the sweet scent of her competing with the scent of the turf and beech-wood fire. Cahlien drew in a long breath, blew it out whilst shaking her head and began collecting the cakes off the stones.
The eldest of eight curried favor for her industrious habits. Running back to her private chapel, she noticed the warmth of the sun beginning to dry the dew and lift "the circle"( by mid-day there would be no evidence of her presence), she smiled knowing her worship was fulfilled in her diligence, she had done no harm. The tree yielded a bounty in the basket that she had requisitioned. Leaving the basket in the shade, Petra made her way northwest into the wood.
Once under the boughs she made her way t'wards denser trees and lush undergrowth, after several minutes she emerged disheveled and moist, from the dew, perspiration and foraging, but satisfied. Dusting off her treasures, then inspecting, she smiled having gathered quite a few mushrooms and several savory roots, she cinched them into a bundle at the left side of her outer skirt (with twine another item from her reconnaissance). Moving back to the tree line under the same boughs she passed earlier, Petra began collecting wood, none bigger than her wrist but a fair sized faggot. Again her outer skirt served to bundle them at her lower back. This was accomplished by several adept maneuvers, including slipping out of her skirt for a moment. A short section of cord was required, (again from her reconnaissance). Clothed and laden like some fancy pack animal she was on her way back to the tree.
Almost half way 'tween the wood and fruit tree she stopped, puffing a little, she turned her face from the sun (northwest) dabbing her brow and nape. She was about to pluck a some sprigs of heather , when something glinted .........( *yes ! glinted*, she thought surprised) back at the tree line. Rubbing her eyes and dabbing again she squinted trying to see what it was...."Hmph ... nothing ! I 'ave gone daft" she muttered (*serves meh right forgetting meh badder o' water*) she plucked up 6 sprigs of heather and turned back on her way. Walking a bit swifter now she spied some gorse thinking it might be a nice contrast to the heather, but minding her mother's words to be "swift" she hurried on. At the tree she dabbed again for just a moment looking back t'wards the wood, she shook her head and the thought of "the glint", scooped up the basket ( the circle all but gone now) and sprinted back t'ward home. Only to stop a few more times to gather wild onions and a few fist fulls of berries. The berries were bundled from an under skirt- hanging just below the mushrooms and roots, cinched with the longer remaining tail of the upper bundle) The onions were gathered into the opposite hand as the heather. One last stop after a short detour.......................
No comments:
Post a Comment