Traveller Probo
65. 11th Century England

Despite Michael’s fears for her ongoing health, Tatae seemed well. Wild rutting on a stone altar proved she was certainly the same amorous woman he had always known. Yet the nature of the ritual, her consumption of the mysterious substance and, most puzzling, the unexplained passage of time, left so many questions unanswered. Sometimes it was wise to let his questions slide. After all Tatae was the recognised leader for the old-ways but to risk herself and the baby was perhaps going a little too far.

As they emerged from the steam in the gully he asked quietly, “What was that all about? I fear for your wellness.”

Tatae simply looked up at him with her eyes of amber. “Yet I am well, am I not?” she replied.

“Are you?” he persisted. “I had the distinct impression that we lost time. One moment it was warm and comfortable by the fire and the next we were cold and exposed. I didn’t take anything, you did, yet I was affected. How can that happen? I don’t fear for myself but for you, my love, and for our baby. I don’t want anything to risk you or our child.”

Tatae stopped and looked up at her husband. Her eyes flashed and Michael felt that she was annoyed. It seemed more from hurt than anger but in his concern he was not in the mood to be so tolerant.

“My love, be not angry with me,” she advised curtly. “Not now. What happened was more than I had hoped for. I haven’t visited the sacred altar since I was a girl. When I saw that old place, that sacred place, I knew none of the people with the old power have visited for many years.” She looked back in the direction of the gulley and there was a touch of trepidation in her eyes. “Some locals visit and leave gifts but that’s all. I almost feel as if I am the last to honour the old ways and that the Goddesses speak to me alone. The old ways bring blessings but the Gods and Goddesses also have their demands. You are special and I was to take you. If you were not my husband, I was to still take you.” She gave a small smile, “But you are mine and our love joins us. The ritual was sacred, and important.”

Michael persisted, “I was only concerned for your health, that of you and our baby. It hasn’t been long since you almost died and I feared losing you both. I don’t want you to get sick is all,” he repeated, perhaps too harshly. In this ruthless time and place the merest illness could take her from him. What would he do then? The thought chilled him, for Tatae had no idea how close to death she had come.

Tatae smiled an odd, downturned smile and slipped her mittened hand under his arm as they silently resumed their walking. The light dusting of snow still remained and the chill was bitter. She spoke quietly, “My time is not yet, my love. I know our child will live, that she has her place. She will carry on the ways of the Goddesses.”

“Will she be the only one?” her husband asked.

Tatae frowned a moment but continued, “She will never be the only one. As long as the forests stand, as long as there are those who believe, as long as there are people, the Gods and Goddesses will have their home. Other Gods can come and go but the Goddesses of the forest stay.” She stopped and looked at Michael, as if addressing a child, “My love, the Goddesses and the Gods of the forest respect you and your ways. The marks of the ancients adorn your skin. This is my good fortune.”

Michael chuckled at his wife’s naivety. Everything was always neatly explained because the Gods and Goddesses moved the world to suit her whims. Most religious people seemed to share that certainty. Tatae jostled his arm, mistaking his chuckle, “Yes! Everything has taken place to allow this baby to grow in my tummy. You have come to me from your strange and distant home. You lived through wars and your wounds healed so we could have our baby. Our baby is a child of two worlds, of the forest and your world of noisy people, to be brought into the world to serve the Goddesses. Hers will be a sacred call, as the sacred ones have been scattered by the conflict that has befallen our land and will strike our land again.”

“You know this?” questioned Michael. He watched the forest carefully. With the winter cold, wolves could be watching. Michael wore his new swords and carried his spear, ready to leap to their defence. The wolves would consider two lonely humans as fair game and their hunger would make them deadly.

Tatae nodded, “Ours is a life of wars and conflict. The Vikings might not come again but another enemy will. I know it.”

Michael looked to his wife curiously. Tatae often made sweeping statements like that and he learned not to push when they were made. “You know this?” he asked again.

“Yes,” she replied simply.

“Do you have more details?” he asked, more watching the forest than really taking her words to heart. Her people lived with the constant threat of violence and, given the events of only a few years past, it was not surprising that the expectation of some kind of conflict simmered beneath the surface of most villagers’ minds.

Tatae frowned, “No. I feel we will have some years of relative peace. The fear I have is from your people.”

Michael frowned. “What do you mean?”

Tatae was silent for a while. A wild cat noiselessly slunk off, like a shadow, while a squirrel chattered after it angrily. A robin, its breast a muted red, flittered.

“Some of your people have no love for our ways. They want to instil their ways and, because your people’s ways are easy, many of the villagers would love to have the easy life they have been shown.” She fell silent and Michael looked at his small wife. Her face was hidden by a fold in her blanket, so he stopped and turned her to face him and was surprised to replace tears in her eyes.

“Tatae! My love, what’s the matter?” he asked with real concern, aware that she had tried to communicate something he hadn’t deciphered. He was certain he missed half the secret things Tatae tried to divulge. On more than one occasion she accused him of being particularly dense.

Tatae shook her head and wiped a run of snot with her blanket but Michael insisted. “I know I may not understand but you must tell me!” In response, she looked miserable and hung her head. “I love you Tatae, my beautiful wife. We have made a child together and we will raise that child. Tell me please. What’s bothering you?”

Tatae wiped her runny nose again and as Michael waited, somewhat concerned, she gave a sniff. His wife was never reluctant to tell him anything except if it involved some of the mysteries but he felt this current dilemma was different. Finally, she reluctantly spoke up.

“My love, I fear your people will destroy us. When you first came, I felt a purpose in you, as did the monks, and you filled our lives with blessings. You helped the monks with their needs and you helped the hunters recognise their old, holy ways. Most of all, you have been a blessing to me. But your people, they’re different. When your warriors helped us, they showed the villagers a new way and many of them have wanted your people’s ways since. Now, as your healers helped our people, they have not only given us healing but have led some of our people to believe that our way is not the best way. Some hope they can go and live with your people, or that the ways of your people can help us in our lives. But they won’t help us,” Tatae paused and looked into the forest sadly. “The forest in your world is gone. I know it was there, for the Goddesses in your world whispered to me but they were weak and the forests are only a shadow. Your people are so clever but they have no heart,” and she placed her mittened hands over her chest. “They only want what they can use. Olivia is a friend but she lacks understanding on what the forest really means. She knows nothing about the ways of the forest creatures and those forces that are unseen. She takes what she wants and can understand and grows rich from it. I bear her no ill will but she has only part of the whole that I have to offer.” She looked to her husband and gazed sadly into his eyes, “I fear that some of your people want more from us, that they give with one hand and take with many others. My healing ways are helpful but, like the monks, a little of that knowledge is not enough. True understanding comes from here,” and she placed her hands over her heart again, “and from here,” and she opened her arms to embrace the forest. Michael looked at the forest with new eyes, as if his colour vision had just been turned on and saw the vibrant, living thing that had been lost from his world for too many years.

A gentle breeze blew and the chill wind shook a few stray snow-flakes from the skeletal fingers of an ancient oak. The robin fluttered to the ground and bounced about on skinny legs before it flew away. Michael had forgotten how breathtaking the forest could be, even in its dormant winter coat. He had his own suspicions and fears, especially with his orders to organise the village into some kind of training ground. How could he best balance the wishes of the military and still look after the interests of the Saxon villagers?

Tatae simply vocalised his own fears when she repeated, “Your people may not be good for our people.”

Michael nodded and hugged her close, for no more needed to be said.