Immortal Clan - The Beginning

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Poet deVine

Administrator

Member Seraphic

since 1999-05-26

Posts 22612
Hurricane Alley

0 posted 2001-05-13 10:55 PM

Note I know this still needs a lot of work. I'm not satisfied with it yet. What I'd like to know is...do you understand the storyline? This was written as a companion to my series of 'Immortal Women' poetry. I look forward to your comments. Thank you.

********

The village of Dredren stood in the middle of the weald. So overgrown were the trees that even on the brightest day, the sun scarcely reached the ground. The villagers did not venture beyond the river to the north (a day's walk) nor great moss covered boulder on the south edge of the forest (two days walk). The sea lay three days walk to the East and the river Rhoar (so wide that the other bank was barely visible) was four days walk to the West.

They had no contact with anyone outside their village. They were a dour and silent group. Even the children who had no real childhood as they were expected to work alongside their parents and siblings. Life was hard. Food, the meager crops they grew and the few cattle they herded, was sparse. Seldom did anyone in the village smile.

One summer a priest wandered into the village. His stories of heaven and hell were accepted not as fact but as just a story, some words the villagers had never heard before. They crammed into the small barn where the priest set up his Sunday services. He thought he had found a congregation that appreciated his soul-saving spirit. When the elders had heard all they wanted, they stopped coming. But the children were sent every Sunday. It was entertainment for them.

The priest made daily trips to all the villagers' homes, preaching against wickedness and thievery. If only he had known, there was no need to speak of these things. For the villagers knew that no man would steal from another and no one knew how to be wicked. They lived together, married together and died together. By the time the priest arrived in their village, everyone was connected in some way by marriage to the others. They knew what happened if they married too close within the circle. They all had stories of mad ancestors who failed to heed the unspoken rule. 'Don't marry within three 'removes'.

So it was that they developed their own system of securing husbands for their daughters and wives for their sons. When a woman got pregnant and was in the last hours before giving birth, the women of the village with children under the age of three gathered in her home. If the newborn was a girl, the mothers with female toddlers went home. The mothers with young sons remained and thus began the bidding on the 'marriage'. Usually, a woman would bid a hog or a length of wool as the dowry for the marriage. In hard times, it might be an offer to till a garden or wash bedding. Whatever the offer, once accepted, the two children were pledged to each other. They grew up knowing that one day, they would be wed.

Part of this system also allowed for new blood to enter the village. At birth, the females thought to be the most comely, would be chosen as 'other takers'. Those who would go to the far edge of the forest to find an outsider to father a child. Thus new blood was brought into the village. These girls, after giving birth, would then be married to any man whose wife had died (as many did) in childbirth. The child with the new blood was highly prized and the mother could expect to gain a large dowry.

Mertha, the village healer, gave birth to a lovely girl child who was deemed worthy enough to be an 'other taker'. When she was in her fourteenth year, she quickened and was sent to live by the great moss covered rock until she was with child. Mertha trained her daughter to live off the land. She would remain away from home until she had missed two of her moon-cycles. When she did not return after four months, Mertha and her husband went to look for her. They found her remains lying by the rock. She had been murdered. Thus it was that from thence on, the 'other takers' would be trained as hunters and fighters. They learned the art of self defense to protect themselves against the wicked outsiders.

Mertha's second child, Caltronia, had been promised to the son of the brewer. When he was five, he became ill and died of a high fever. Thus, it was decided that Caltronia would replace her older sister as an other taker.

Her soft waist length hair was the color of the bark on the trees. Her eyes were brown as were all the villagers. She was comely though not overly so. But Caltronia was a child of laughter - rare in the forest village. And though her mother tried in vain to squelch the impetuous spirit of the child, but she would not be repressed. There were whispers in the village that the child was not right in the head. That she should not be trusted to bring in the new blood. But Mertha argued that it had been nearly 15 years since new blood had been brought in and perhaps the death of Caltronia's intended had been from a disease inbred in the group. Their fear overcame their suspicion and thus, Caltronia was sent off the summer she was fourteen.

After three months Caltronia returned. She spoke very little and her usual smile had changed to the familiar taciturn face of her fellow villagers. When her belly grew, she stayed inside the earthen hut with her mother and father. Her mother still tended the ills of the villagers, many of whom came now only to speculate on how much the new-blooded child would be worth.

In the seventh month of her pregnancy, Caltronia's father died. There was no illness nor accident. He just failed to awaken one morning. He was buried without ceremony, though the priest, now in his nineties, tried to perform some ritual.

And then the time of birth arrived. The women of the village assembled in the meager hut. Their husbands had given them instructions on what to use to bid for the right to marry the newborn to their own offspring. And thus they waited.

The labor took four days. Caltronia shed not one tear nor uttered one cry of pain. She strained and pushed and did as she was told, but the child seemed not to want to be born. On the fourth day, as Caltronia's strength ebbed, the child quietly slipped into the world. Her grandmother was the midwife. A great aunt assisted and it was she that delivered the news to the waiting mothers.

"Tis a girl." Was all she said before hurrying back into the shed at the back of the hut that was used for the birthing. The women with female children left. There remained six women with small boys. And the bidding began.

Mertha acted as agent, it was the grandmother's right, and asked each woman to make a bid.

"We must see the babe!" one complained.

"Yes! Let us see her."

So one by one they were led into the shed. And when they saw the baby girl, they were shocked! The usual dark coloring of the villagers was not the coloring of the child. For she was as light and fair as they were dark. She lay against her mothers breast sleeping. A halo of white hair stood around her head and curled onto her face. The priest's teachings about angels came to many of the mother's minds as they gazed at the child. She was tiny. Barely the length of a woman's forearm.

When Mertha joined the group to begin the bidding, she sensed a change in their attitude. The women would not face her. She sat down near the hearth and waited.
No one spoke.

"She don't look right." One woman said. "She's too fair - and seems too frail to survive in the village."

The women nodded in agreement, rose and quickly left. Another girl in the village was due to give birth in a few days so they hurried there to do some pre-bidding.

Mertha sighed. It was not the need for new blood that sent the women scurrying out of the hut. It was fear. The look of the babe was too odd, too unusual. Caltronia's babe would either not wed at all or would be used as an 'other taker'. Mertha sighed and rose to go to the birthing shed to tell her daughter the news.

Caltronia listened as her mother told her of the refusal to bid on the babe's marriage. No trace of emotion passed the girl's face until Mertha suggested the babe be trained as an 'other taker'.

"NO!" Caltronia objected. "She shall not!"

"But child, the babe must either provide other blood to the village or marry within the circle here. What else is she to do?"

"Why must she do either? Can she not just be allowed to live, to work with us, learn to be a healer?"

"Tis not enough for a woman to be a healer. She must bear children for her husband."

"But if she isn't chosen to marry, and you say there was no bidding on her, then what is she to do?"

"She will be trained as you were. To be an other taker." Mertha said firmly.

"Ahem." They both turned at the sound of a cough from the doorway. It was the priest, bent over with age, leaning on a branch carved to serve as a cane.

"I've come to bless the babe." He said in a voice that seemed like a whisper.

"Come in sir." Caltronia said.

The old man drew near the bed and gazed down expectantly as the swaddling cloth was drawn back to reveal the child.

"Oh!" he gasped.

"What is it sir?" Mertha asked in alarm. She too stepped forward to see the baby.

The priest reached out one long thin finger and touched the baby's silver curls. He seemed entranced by her. Caltronia smiled softly at the old man's reaction.

"She is the most beautiful child I've ever seen." A tear wend its way down the old man's cheek and dropped gently onto the sleeping baby's forehead. The baby opened her eyes and seemed to look back at the priest. It was a wise and knowing look, from deep lustrous green eyes.

"Have you a name for her?" he asked.

Mertha offered the three names of dead female ancestors that had been discussed but Caltronia just smiled.

"So which is it to be?" Mertha asked her daughter.

"None mother. I shall call her Heaven."

****

Caltronia allowed her daughter to be trained as an other taker. Though in her heart, she knew the child would never fulfill that calling. Heaven was trained to be a healer, a hunter and to fight. She became so proficient at the hunting that she was able to provide many of the villagers with meat in the winters when no one could find game. In the summer, she would outwork any other children, girl or boy and helped to harvest the crops alongside the adults. The villagers began to suspect she was more than just different looking.

The girls quickly decided to shun Heaven. But the boys did not, though by rights, they should have been at least offended by her mastery of every sport they could not excel at. They stared at her in a way that made the other girls nervous and made Heaven smile. Their mothers grew uneasy as Heaven grew older. There was a feeling in the village of impending disaster.

All this was forgotten the spring Heaven turned thirteen. For in the forest came the sounds of horses and wagons. Someone was coming!

The sounds could be heard for two days, then abruptly they stopped. The villagers met in small clusters trying to decide what do to. In the meantime, a few of the younger men set out to find the trespassers. They found the group of three wagons camped near a small pond a few hours from the village. The wagons, gaily painted, stood around a campfire. The young men could hear voices, but saw no people.

All of this was repeated to the villagers. The next days brought new noises. Music and singing and new smells, strange smells wafted into the village. Most villagers remained hidden during the day, expecting the strangers to appear. Yet after four days, no one from the strangers' encampment entered the village.

Mertha feared the strangers but had need of a root that grew only in the small clearing where they set up camp. She was afraid to let Heaven go alone and knew that Caltronia would be useless as lately she had begun to talk to herself. She refused to even leave the hut. The only person she spoke to was the priest who sat with her for hours whispering of 'hell' and the 'devil' and 'purgatory'.

Mertha prepared her gathering bags and took Heaven by the hand. They walked in silence until they came near the clearing where the strangers camped. Mertha hoped they could find the plants they needed on the perimeter of the clearing and would quietly do her gathering and leave without being detected. She handed Heaven a bag and motioned for her to go to the left and pull the plants. They separated.

Heaven kept one eye on the wagons, which she could see behind the trees that she kept between her and the camp. She found a plant, reached down and pulled it gently from the soil, shaking the dirt from the root. Her grandmother said she would need at least 50 of the plants and Heaven counted as she picked her half.

At the sum of 18, Heaven stopped when she heard a scrabbling sound, like a small animal scurrying across dry pine needles. She glanced around quickly but could see nothing, not even a squirrel. She continued pulling the plants until she had the required number of 25. She turned to retrace her steps and rejoin her mother when a movement in the corner of her eye caused her to freeze.

"Wa haw we 'ere?" A man sat resting on a rock.

Heaven shook her head to indicate that she didn't understand what the man said. He was an old man, though not as old as the priest, and he smelled of vomit and sweat. She thought he looked flushed with fever.

"Do ya no ken tawk, mizzy?"

It was a question, Heaven could tell that.

"I don't understand you sir." She said.

The man blinked then fell to the ground with a thud. Heaven, well taught by her grandmother didn't approach the man but ran back to the place she and Mertha had parted. Her grandmother stood behind a tree, still watching the wagons, a full bag of roots at her feet. Heaven motioned to her to follow and without thinking what she was doing, Mertha walked with the girl to where the old man lay.

"He's sick gran," Heaven said as they squatted next to the figure on the ground.

"Mayhaps he is, but we dare not touch him. We would put the whole village in danger."

"But we must help him!"

"No child, we'll leave him here. His people will know what to do with him." Mertha rose slowly, feeling her age. Heaven still sat on the ground looking at the man.

"I need to help him." She whispered and then looked into her grandmother's eyes. Mertha had never seen such a look. She shivered. It was the look of destiny.

Mertha walked quickly to the clearing and knocked on the door of the brightly painted wagon. A woman opened the door and looked down at her.

"One of your men is ill." Mertha said pointing to the spot in the forest where the man lay.

"Who are you?" the woman demanded.

"It does not matter," she replied.

"It does to me!" angry now, the woman jumped down from the wagon and stood facing Mertha. Mertha noticed the strange smell from the woman's mouth, as though she ate something sour; it was a smell that Mertha had never encountered.

"If you wish me to help, I can. I'm a healer."

"Get away from us!" the woman shouted. Then she spoke in a tongue Mertha didn't recognize, two young men came running from one of the other wagons. She talked to them for a moment then they both ran in the direction Mertha had indicated.

Mertha followed quickly, knowing that Heaven was in the wood alone. When she reached the spot where the man lay, she saw that the young men stood quite still. They had not attempted to help their friend. They stared at Heaven.

Heaven saw the two men run to her and glanced up quickly. She shivered. She felt odd, a liquid pain that thrilled her coursed through her body. She closed her eyes quickly and looked away. She was quickening.

The young men's eyes widened when they saw her. They smiled.

"He's very sick." She whispered.

"What is it?" the strange woman yelled as she approached. The spell that was cast between Heaven and the young men was snapped.

"We don't know mother." One young man replied. "We'll take him with us." The speaker reached down and blithely picked up the old man, proud of his strength. He glanced at Heaven to see if she was impressed.

She was. The boys in the village were shorter than the stranger and none were so handsome as these two. The other young man held out his hand to help Heaven to her feet. She, unused to the courtesy, got up on her own.

Heaven stopped breathing. She could feel her heart pounding and suddenly her legs shook. She looked up quickly and found the young man's eyes watching her intently. She wetted her lips with her tongue. She thought she must have been coming on with a fever, so hot she felt! She would drink some tea as soon as she returned home she decided.

"What is your name?"

"Heaven, sir." She whispered.

She felt rather than heard his gasp. He had leaned in so close now his nose almost touched her own.

"Yes, my dear. You are indeed." He murmured. "I am Allwin, son of Georde. That is my brother Bexwil. The man he carries is our uncle, Randel. And this is my mother Stavina."

Heaven bobbed her head. "This is my grandmother, Mertha. We are healers gathering plants for our potions."

"Bah!" snorted the woman, Stavina. "You are nothing more than dirty peasants. Get out of my sight!"

Heaven looked aghast and glanced at her grandmother. Mertha seemed ready to shout back at the surly woman, but instead she just shook her head. "Come child." She said.

"How will we find you if we need you?" Allwin asked softly before he turned to leave.

"I will be here tomorrow if you like….to check up on your uncle's condition." Heaven smiled shyly. The young man nodded and turned to follow his mother back to the wagons.

Heaven and her grandmother were almost home when Mertha stopped her with a hand on the girl's arm.

"Do we speak of this?" Mertha asked.

"No grandmother."

Mertha nodded.

The next day Heaven took a bag from the shed and told her mother and grandmother she was going to the forest for chamomile. Her mother nodded absently but her grandmother just stared at the girl's face knowing by instinct where her granddaughter was going.

Heaven walked quickly to the clearing and saw the young man sitting with his back to her. She approached quietly and when she was within arms reach he sensed her presence and turned around. It wasn't Allwin but Bexwil.

"My brother is busy with our uncle." Bexwil explained.

"Is he doing better?" Heaven asked with a smile. The quickening feeling was upon her again so she was neither pleased nor displeased to find Allwin had not met her.

"He is still with the fever. My mother worries that he may die."

"My grandmother is a healer, and quite skilled. If your mother would agree, I'm sure your uncle could be helped." Heaven smiled shyly.

Bexwil stood as though stunned. Heaven's green eyes and waist length pale blonde hair shone in the sunlight that glanced off the leaves of the trees. Heaven smiled.

"You are beautiful!" Bexwil exclaimed as he reached for Heaven's hand.

"No, I am ugly." She replied. She allowed his touch and found that it intensified the quickening feeling. She felt overwhelmed with need to keep feeling the liquid pleasure. She swallowed quickly and took one step closer to Bexwil. Her body burned and her breath quickened to gasps.

"God," Bexwil murmured. He lowered his head….

"What in all that's sacred are you doing!!!" Stavina screamed as she ran from the clearing. She threw herself at Heaven and if Bexwil hadn't caught her arm, the young girl would have been tossed to the ground.

"Mother!" Bexwil exclaimed.

"Get away from my son you witch!"

"I am a healer, not a witch!" Heaven stammered.

"Arrghhh!!!" Stavina tried to escape her son's grasp.

"You'd better go home." Bexwil told Heaven.

Heaven turned and ran from the clearing. She found the chamomile bush and gathered enough leaves for the next week's tea.

Two days passed. Heaven felt the pull to return to the strangers' camp. Last night she had crept from her bed and walked silently to the trees surrounding the clearing. She watched as the two young men sat by the fire eating and talking. When they rose and went to bed, she turned and went home.

Today, she returned again. Standing behind a tree to remain hidden, she watched as Stavina helped the old man from the wagon. He seemed better, though still shaky. Then Stavina walked off into the forest in the direction of the village. Heaven stepped quickly from her hiding place and crossed to where the old man sat.

He glanced up as she crouched in front of him.

"How do you feel?" she asked.

"Me sister bids me naught to tawk to ye!"

"My mother is a strange woman."

Heaven stood and twirled around. Allwin had spoken. She had not heard him come up behind her.

"I'm sorry. I don't mean to intrude, I just wondered if your uncle was better."

"He will live. But as for me….." Allwin lay his hand against his heart.

"You are ill sir?" Heaven asked with concern.

"Of a manner, Heaven." He replied. A look passed between them.

Heaven felt the quickening. She closed her eyes against the intensity of it and swayed slightly. Allwin grabbed her arms, stepping near her and held her against him.

"You are beautiful." He said. Bexwill had said the same.

Heaven smiled shyly and looked up into Allwin's eyes. She saw his face move closer. She held her breath.

"WHAT is going on?" Bexwill strode up.

"None of your business brother!" Allwin exclaimed as he pushed Heaven behind him.

"She is mine." Bexwill declared.

"Nay, I saw her first." Allwin countered.

"Let Heaven decide." Bexwill said. Both young men turned to face Heaven.

Heaven stood transfixed. Never had she been given a choice about anything. She ate what was put before here, wore what she was given did the work her mother and grandmother told her to do. Strangely, she felt that this decision would determine her future. She took a deep breath.

"I cannot choose." She said quietly. "I like you both!"

"But you must choose!" Allwin declared. "You must!"

"I cannot!" Heaven cried. She quickly turned and ran from the duo. She kept running until she reached the back of the shed behind her hut. She leaned against the wall and tried to think.

She wanted them both. It came to her in a split second. She would willingly lie with both of them!! So shocked was she at this wicked thought that she quickly fell to her knees on the ground. She remembered this was the way the old priest said to pray. To ask God for answers. Her body shook, not in fear or spiritual enthusiasm but she shook from the quickening. She wanted nothing more than to rise up and run back to the brothers in the clearing and offer herself to them.

She knelt against the wall for hours. The meager sun moved slowly in the western sky and sounds of the evening brought Heaven to her senses. The quickening feeling had passed. She rose and walked slowly into the hut.

Her mother sat there with the priest and her grandmother stood with one hand to her breast, one on the mantle.

"What have you done!?" asked her mother in a hoarse whisper. From her reddened eyes and swollen lids, Heaven could tell she had been crying.

"Hush, Caltronia." Mertha admonished her daughter. "Heaven, you must tell us where you have been."

"I was behind the shed."

"All this time? Behind the shed? What were you doing there?" Caltronia asked.

"I was thinking." Heaven replied. She dared not meet her mother's eyes for fear her mother would see the truth and think she was wicked.

"Do you realize?" Caltronia began. But Mertha cut her off with a wave of her hand.

"Let me talk to the child." She said. "Heaven, you must tell us what happened today. Don't be afraid." Mertha smiled warmly at her granddaughter. But she knew what troubled the girl. She could feel it in the room. Caltronia had never felt the quickening but her daughter felt it now, Mertha could feel it herself. Heaven needed to go to the mossy rock immediately.

Outside a faint murmuring drew Mertha's attention. She walked to the door and saw one of the stranger's wagons being pulled into the village. The woman, Stavina walked solemnly beside the horse. The woman led the horse to Mertha's hut. By now, several of the villagers stood at their doors straining to hear what the stranger had to say.

Stavina said nothing. She pulled the wagon close to the small yard in front of the hut and went around to the back. She opened the door and one by one, pulled out the bodies of her sons. She dragged them to Mertha's door.

"What are you doing woman?" cried the priest from behind Mertha.

When the two young men lay side by side in front of Mertha, Stavina returned to the wagon and brought out a basket. She reached in and drew out some small brown leaves, which she sprinkled onto the bodies.

Mertha held her breath. The priest, Caltronia and Heaven stepped out of the hut. Heaven gasped when she saw the dead young men. She put her hand to her mouth to stifle the cry that threatened to escape.

Stavina walked over and stood in front of Heaven.

"This is your work!" Stavina screamed. "They fought over you. They killed each other in the wanting of you!"

"I ..I didn't mean…"

"Hush child," Mertha said quietly.

"We are sorry for you loss madam…"began the priest. Stavina whipped around to stare at him. Then slowly she stared at them all. Her eyes at last beheld Heaven. She took one step closer.

"By all the devils in this world, I draw this curse upon you now. You shall know life eternally. You will quicken with the fever of a thousand women but will mate only once every three years. You must kill the mortal man who shares your quickening or he will be consumed with the need to murder you. You will bear only female children. And the only way that you shall die and leave this mortal world is with one thrust of a golden sword to the heart. You will now and forever live to regret the sin you, by your quickening, have allowed to happen today. The vengeance is taken in the name of my sons Allwin and Bexwil. I curse you child named Heaven!"

Then she tossed a powder onto the bodies. They were immediately engulfed in flames. Within minutes they were burned, ashes lay where once were young men. Stavina turned and walked back to the wagon. She pulled the reins and walked away.

Heaven turned to her grandmother who looked at her with saddened eyes. "You don't believe that do you?" Heaven asked.

"No, child, it was the rambling of a tormented woman."

***
Three years later, to the day, Heaven again felt the quickening. She burned with the need and in her frenzy she ran to the mossy rock at the edge of the forest. The father of her child lay dead as she walked back to the village. Sated for the moment, Heather knew. Her child would be a girl. And she realized that she must leave her home. There would be no need to put the lives of her family and the villagers in danger. Surely someone would miss the murdered man and come to hunt for his killer.

She snuck into the village in the middle of the night. She took her meager possessions from her corner of the hut and stole away.

As she disappeared into the forest, her Mertha walked from the shadows inside the hut to watch as her granddaughter left for the last time.

"May you find peace and mercy."

[This message has been edited by Poet deVine (edited 05-16-2001).]

Dark Angel
Member Patricius

since 1999-08-04

Posts 10095

1 posted 2001-05-14 09:01 PM

Ohhh Sharon
This is excellent writing, I sure hope there is going to be a "part 2"

I thoroughly enjoyed it and if there is going to be a part 2, I can't wait to read it!

Maree

serenity blaze
Member Empyrean

since 2000-02-02

Posts 27738

2 posted 2001-05-15 12:48 PM

What an enthralling world you have created here! You were really hit with a lightning bolt of inspiration on this one, lady. And I trust, an epic begins! Enchanting and completely captivating.

WhtDove
Member Rara Avis

since 1999-07-22

Posts 9245
Illinois

3 posted 2001-05-15 10:40 PM

Woo hoooooo Sharon, this had me totally captivated!! When's the next part coming out? HUH HUH????

Quick, write the next one, so I can find out what happened to her! Great story!

Poet deVine

Administrator

Member Seraphic

since 1999-05-26

Posts 22612
Hurricane Alley

4 posted 2001-05-15 10:43 PM

Thank you!!! I wondered if I should write it with a dialect, then decided against it..sometimes they are too hard to read..so Thank you...and I'll start on the next installment..

LoveBug