Chapter The Trader.
A dead silence spread across the guardhouse as the giant horses, ‘clopped’ into the confined area, large as it was, with the noises echoing around the open space.
Stoker hauled the horses to a stop.
Out of long familiarity with this routine, Monique and her guards met him, and began to see to his horses even as he leapt down.
He looked quickly around, seeing some faces he knew; Liam and others, Monique and her guards, and many, many more that he didn’t know to look at, just yet. He knew what would greet him when he stopped for a moment, but there would be time for that, later. He had goods to unload and then blood to wash off himself and his protective coverings before he could clean up better, and change.
He lifted Erianne down from his wagon as his dog jumped into her arms to be carried over to the fire, and to the Kelts as they greeted each other.
He unclipped the horses’ harnesses.
“I swear every Frex from the wasteland was expecting me today. I never had so many of them hasten to welcome me. What did I do to offend you, Boril?”
The two of them got into the usual, easy back and forth banter that only someone who knew them would be familiar with. It was the same with Stoker as it had been with Liam.
Christine fought her way across to Erianne, touched her on the arm, and then hugged her as she turned to her.
They seemed to know each other very well.
They had been the best of friends in Dorian, but had never expected to be parted. Then, Christine had been chosen to lead their raiding party while being sworn to secrecy, while Erianne had been randomly selected as a tribute.
“I feared I would never see you again. I heard your name… Erianne, but I didn’t associate it with you until now. We had already set sail from Dorian before the selection of tributes, so I did not know you had been chosen until just moments ago, with all of the thoughts we can now share.”
“I was not the only tribute, Christine. You were chosen too, as a tribute. By some strange co-incidence, we two had been chosen together. However, they soon discovered that you had already set sail, and they didn’t have time to find a substitute for you, so I was sent out alone, with Stoker.”
They both knew what that had meant now.
“Nothing better could ever have happened for me. I fell in love within moments of meeting him… a dreaded Thorian out of our worst nightmares, yet so considerate, so gentle. Nothing like I had been taught to expect. And in love!”
Erianne had resigned herself to what she most feared, and then discovered that none of it was true.
“Stoker was angry about that, feeling sorry for me going out alone, and he let them know as only a Thorian could; felling the chief councillor in a dead faint. It could not have worked out better for me. I found… him… as he found me because of that, and because of his help in comforting me!”
She looked over to Stoker, pulling the bodies of Frexes from the back of the wagons and piling them by the gates as his horses were led away to be rubbed down, fed, watered, and pampered. He glanced to her too, knowing that they were constantly in each other’s thoughts, reliving over and over again that pivotal moment for them all, in Saltash.
Erianne would never forget that first night in Coniston, in Stoker’s warm embrace, or the following one in Torver as everything progressed steadily between them. Or any of the nights after that. They had both known, even then.
“We, all of us; the tributes, and you, faced a thousand little twists and turns over the last few days… lifetimes in themselves… none of them planned, or that could have been expected. Just look where they led. You… here. And me… where I am. Who could have believed any of this just a month ago?
“The weather delayed us getting to Saltash by a day, and gave us more time to learn about each other, while also putting all of us into the paths of those bears. One unexpected turn after another.”
With everything that had followed from that.
“After Saltash, I was able to learn about you and your progress across the Inland sea—slow and difficult as it was—from Merry Meg and her sailors; Thorians all, and from Liam.
“Now, this.”
They continued to embrace, shedding tears; each never believing they would see the other again.
They reluctantly stepped apart but continued to hold each other.
Erianne spoke.
“This ‘responsibility’ thing to do with the treaty, Christine, that Liam gave you. I don’t envy you that decision, but the way through it will soon come to you. Sleep on it tonight after a good dinner and some more of that wine.
“The best things happen in the rested mind. Ask your brain what you should do. Then, ask your heart. Your heart will be the more reliable guide. You will have help for that, but not from me, and not from anyone here, yet. But he is coming.” She said no more.
Christine would not ask her to explain. Her mind was busy enough as it was.
Erianne looked her friend over, able to see her without other emotions getting in the way now.
“You look well. I know you feel well. But you have been given a decision to make. It will be an easy one to see when it comes to you. You are surrounded only by friends here.
“Ask yourself also, if this life—little as you have seen of it so far—is a life you could embrace, as I have done, or does life in the city still call out to you? What do you read in the hearts and minds of all of these women?”
She continued.
“From the deepest despair that crept over you all as you progressed so painstakingly across that sea, I began to sense a different rebellion being waged now that you are here, and now that you have succeeded… one, within your own minds. What to do?
“Boril and Liam, and even Monique, opened new doors for you, as Stoker did for me. All that is required, is for you to walk through them. However, do not close them behind you as we did in the cities. Others will follow, while others will retreat.”
The wagons were soon unloaded of everything they contained as others moved in to help, putting aside their concerns of working alongside Thorians, along with their concerns about many things. It would be difficult to return to their cities after this.
Later that evening, after they had eaten well, they retired around the large, open, guard-house.
The Kelts had left the city to be with their own people, and the Thorians had retired back to the lower council chambers with those Fennian warriors that they now claimed as their own, to continue… what they needed to continue.
Christine could see those interactions, but only in a blurred kind of way, though she could sense the deep emotional bonding that was already formed between them. She envied them.
She deliberately chose to lay apart from the others so as not to disturb them; knowing that she would face a sleepless night.
‘Uneasy lies the head…’ as Boril had said. Such a true statement.
She had to peel away all of the concerns, the fears, the old prejudices and to see a way of untangling this problem for the good of all. So many depended upon her… all of the women of the four cities. Why her?
She tossed and turned; was restless as she struggled. She became aware of a distant tapping, as of a child knocking timorously at the gate.
She got up without disturbing anyone else and looked out of the small trapdoor at the side, that allowed the guards to see all who approached the gate and to gauge their intent.
There was no one there.
She went back to her bedding and laid down again.
The tapping was still there.
It was not from outside but was within her own mind.
She closed it off, put her head under her pillow and tried to blot it out, but it would not be denied.
Someone was trying to break into her mind. But who? And why now, while she was trying to rest? It was not Boril, or Liam. She had already given them the key.
She opened a small portal.
“Who are you? What do you want?”
He sensed her impatience.
“Erianne, your best friend, told you that I was coming.”
She was instantly wide awake, listening; her heart beating furiously, not sure what she should do. This was a different kind of invasion; one that confused her and flustered her.
“Do not be afraid. I am Peter. Stoker’s younger brother. I am here to help you if I can, though the decision you make must be yours alone to make.”
She glanced around, afraid that others would hear them.
“No one can hear us. Lie down and rest. I am not at the city yet, and will not be for a few more hours, but I can sit opposite you even now, and we can talk.”
She could even see him. It was obvious that he was Stoker’s brother, with those eyes. Why would her heart not slow down?
“Erianne told you to look into your mind and to look into your heart for the answers you seek. I am here to help you do that, but first we shall learn more about each other, you and I.”
Why did that prospect confuse her so much?
“If you let me into your mind, I will open up mine in the same way.” She fought back this feeling of being violated, as she relaxed, letting him into her. It seemed so personal, not as Boril or as Liam had been, or even Erianne. It was much more personal than anything they had done.
She felt his thoughts, his feelings wash over her body, touching her, caressing her; learning everything about her. She soon learned to respond in kind. Was this what Stoker had done to Erianne? Could this be love? So soon. Already?
They went back and forth with questions and revelations; opening up new worlds for the other to see.
“We both had very different but happy childhoods. Mine, was of constant training in the battle to survive everything thrown at us, as we protected ourselves and your cities.
“Yours, was of peace and gentleness. It was what we were both born into, and we each knew no other until now. These disparate worlds must now come together and co-operate to find a way beyond this momentary difficulty of the treaty.
“I know what I, and every Thorian like me, would like to see happen. That treaty was long overdue for change and renegotiation, You, for your part, know what you would like to see.”
He paused.
“So, Christine of Dorian.” She liked the way he said that. “Let us negotiate this new agreement, you and I. We will negotiate other things between us as time goes by after that, when we meet.”
She knew what he meant. Was this what had happened to Erianne when she had first met Stoker? But he, had been present in person, and here she was, discussing things with someone who was physically elsewhere, yet she could feel his every touch.
“Now, little one… I saw what you said to Liam about being prisoners, and about ‘Tyranny’ and….”
She interrupted his thoughts.
“…I was wrong. I did not understand, then. I do now.”
“I know. Difficulties are always resolved by rational discussion.”
He seemed so calm and in control, but she already knew enough to trust him, to put herself entirely in his hands… to do with her as he wished.
“I know that what you thought, was wrong. That, is no longer important. What we need to bring out, is what it is that you want, now, going forward, first and foremost. Do not rush… just take a few deep breaths. What do you most want?”
“Freedom.” She had no difficulty voicing that thought.
“You already have it. The decision to close yourselves into each of the cities was yours. You may reverse it at any time.”
She added another thought that was also important.
“We would like to trade for ourselves, with each other; learn about each other.” She hesitated. “And not just about the other cities of women, but about the other towns, even those that house Thorians. We would like the freedom to travel and to mix. To see all of those things that we merely glimpsed, between bouts of being sea-sick, and being hunted by other animals.”
“You mean, as you tasted of life, proper? The rough with the smooth. Life!
"We will do that together, you and I. Go on.”
He waited for her to continue.
“What, of you, Peter of... Thorium. What is it that you want?”
“I want you…” Her mind erupted in a flash of light. “I want you to have all of those things too.
“We would like to see more women come out of the cities, now that the lands are becoming quiet once more. We Thorians always have need of more women.
“We would like to be allowed entry into your cities without scaring anyone, but we always had to be ready to fight our way there… to your gates. That is why we appeared so fierce, and ready for trouble. Those times may come again, but at this moment, they are far away.
“We were never, deliberate tyrants. Accidental tyrants, perhaps, in our zeal to protect you. The tributes were your idea, remember? And we needed them.”
“I did not know that, until recently. We were so wrong about you.”
“That is always a relief for a tyrant to hear.” He laughed.
“You can now see your way forward, little one, and can rest properly. Those other little details will become clear to you, in your mind, as you sleep.”
She already had the answers they all sought.
Fifty tributes a year from each city, as Liam had joked, was unlikely. There would be many more than that, and all of them would be eager, and voluntary.
When the city gates were opened to all-comers, including Thorians to come into their cities, there would be a flood of such ‘tributes’ out of the cities to meet more of them.
“Where are you, Peter? Where will you be as I sleep?”
“I shall lie here beside you, little one, until morning. I shall help you sleep.”
Christine felt him snuggling up close to her body as though he were really there, as they reached out for each other.
Finis. Please leave a review if you liked this story.