Wildswept - Circle of Ceridwen Saga [07] by Octavia Randolph

Author:Octavia Randolph [Randolph, Octavia]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Historical Fiction - Action & Adventure
ISBN: 9781942044253
Google: jNvYzQEACAAJ
Amazon: B08JJ3HJN2
Goodreads: 55447245
Publisher: Pyewacket Press
Published: 2020-10-15T07:00:00+00:00

As the days passed the family from Gotland fell easily into the rhythm of the Sámi village. The homecoming gave Šeará deep pleasure. She was returned as a woman, wife, and mother, to parents who were proud of her, and of her husband and children. Juoksa took to his grandparents at once, and Ulmmá became a great favourite with him, always ready to swing his little nephew up on his shoulders, or place him on the back of one of the tame ren and lead him about for a walk. And there were many small children to play with. On Gotland Šeará had always spoken to Juoksa in the Sámi tongue, and those at Tyrsborg had used the Norse of Gotland with him. When they arrived Juoksa was shy and hesitant to speak, save for in his mother’s ear. Now he was prattling away as if he had been born here.

One early morning, after the family had broken their fast with roasted river pike and bowls of ren curd cheese, Ŝeará and her mother sat together at their hand work. They each held a small oblong of ren bone which had been drilled with holes, and were changing wool yarn into brightly coloured woven ribband. This tablet woven trim, broad and narrow, was found on all their clothing, but the ribband they worked on today was narrow, for it was meant to adorn the little tunic of Jaské, as soon as she was old enough to don one. Tindr sat nearby, trying his hand at shaping ice skates from the leg bones of ren. He had made these with the long leg bones of both cattle and red deer, but wanted to take some of ren back with him. Juoksa was almost at his feet, busy with fashioning twigs and birch bark into play boats. Nearby sat several village women, kneeling before flat rocks. They had gathered the same long water grasses that Ŝeará had when they first landed, and now were pounding the dried stems with wooden bats, and plaiting them into long coils to place inside Winter boots for warmth and cushioned dryness.

All were so occupied that none noticed the approach of two men. They had come from a forest path, and now stood before them. Šeará looked up into two solemn faces. She caught her breath. Here were come the father and the brother of Ággi, the young man she was to have wed.

Dearsu, the father of Ággi, was the chief of the next village. The union of Ággi and Šeará was one between the offspring of chieftains, each the richest and most respected men of their village. It had been fixed upon when they were both yet children. Now Dearsu and Ággi’s younger brother, Hendo, had heard of Šeará’s return, and had come to look upon her and her husband.

The two had stopped just in front of her. They were wearing tunics and leggings intended for celebrations and high and joyful rituals, and this sign of respect seemed at odds with the gravity of their faces.

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