Read Online Jeanne G'Fellers - Sister Lost, Sister Found by Jeanne G'Fellers - Free Book Online
Authors: Jeanne G'Fellers
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lover’s short curls then rose from the bed, pulling on her clothes and retying her headscarf. “Tend to Myrla if I’m not back by first light?”
“Of course.” Kaelan sounded almost insulted by the reminder. “She’s going straight to the bathing pool after breakfast.”
“You, too. There’s glassing sand in your hair again. Be sure to shake out the furs when you get up.” Jewel nabbed her slippers and parted the door. The cries of the Autlach mother pierced the thick night air.
“Another loud one. Must she wail?”
“She’s scared,” mumbled Kaelan. “Birthing hurts.”
“She’s not laboring. What we’re hearing is nothing more than hysteria. If she’s as young as Wikkib says, this could be a long one.” She let a resigned sigh and slid the partition shut. “Kaelan?” Her tired alto slid under the door folds.
“Yeah?”
“Make Myrla recite her history to you before her exam.”
“Sure. Love you.”
“You, too.” Jewel’s light footfalls drifted away.
Kaelan pulled the blankets to her chin then rolled on her side. “History? It would have to be my weak spot.” She lay in the stillness, listening for and hearing the soft sounds of her daughter’s slumber. A younger girl birthing? That couldn’t be a good thing. Why, the body wasn’t mature yet, not to mention the mind. How was a half-grown girl supposed to handle a baby of her own? Kaelan’s mind named the difficulties as she nodded in and out. Her head ached from the wine, ached until it made her sick. Poor little girl, not yet grown, giving birth to a child she’s not to have. Scared out of her wits and in the presence of strangers. Jewel knows what to do. She’ll calm her, care for her. It’s her nature as a birther. She knows best, she... Kaelan began to snore, her alcohol torpor unaffected by the occasional cries of the young mother. One became accustomed to it. It was part of the Taelach existence.
Chapter Four
Learning requires emotion.
—Observer of a misplaced sister
Dawn had yet to reveal its face when the bell behind the smoker shed sounded. Rankil thought it part of some wishful dream until Granny Terry roused her with a poke of her cane. “Rankil, the bell. Dress and go see what they’ve left.”
Still tying her waist lacings, Rankil scurried out the door and through the garden, the grass lapping cold at her toes. Yawning, she leaned against the shed’s splintering outer wall and opened the box, crying with joy when she saw the contents. Kaelan had left three bulging sacks, each a wealth of Taelach information. Rankil hefted the sacks over one shoulder with an easy toss then turned toward where she believed the giver might hide. “Thank you!” she cried in Autlach, then hurried back to the house and Terry.
Once Kaelan was certain Rankil was inside, she made her way to the garden and began staking the hide markers that were to be Rankil’s first lessons. “The girl is stout,” she mumbled while setting the markers. “Grabbed up those bags like they were empty. She’ll be a formidable opponent by the time she’s through growing. Might be a proper beau for Myrla by that time, too.” Tempted as she was to observe Rankil’s excitement, Kaelan returned to her mount. Clan duty called. There were a number of store pots to be fired before summer’s end and, after all, she had promised Recca.
Kathump ! Granny Terry jumped when Rankil dropped the sacks onto the table. “Gracious! Did they leave an entire side of beast?”
“No, Granny Terry, three sacks for you. THREE!”
“You mean for you.”
“For me?” Rankil picked at the complicated knot at the top of one. “And they’re marked with some kind of odd symbols. I’m having trouble with the . . . okay, there it is.” She spilled the contents across the table.
Terry placed the kettle to heat then drew her rocker close. “Tell me what you’ve found.”
Rankil scrubbed the sleep from her eyes. “There’s so much I don’t know
“Of course.” Kaelan sounded almost insulted by the reminder. “She’s going straight to the bathing pool after breakfast.”
“You, too. There’s glassing sand in your hair again. Be sure to shake out the furs when you get up.” Jewel nabbed her slippers and parted the door. The cries of the Autlach mother pierced the thick night air.
“Another loud one. Must she wail?”
“She’s scared,” mumbled Kaelan. “Birthing hurts.”
“She’s not laboring. What we’re hearing is nothing more than hysteria. If she’s as young as Wikkib says, this could be a long one.” She let a resigned sigh and slid the partition shut. “Kaelan?” Her tired alto slid under the door folds.
“Yeah?”
“Make Myrla recite her history to you before her exam.”
“Sure. Love you.”
“You, too.” Jewel’s light footfalls drifted away.
Kaelan pulled the blankets to her chin then rolled on her side. “History? It would have to be my weak spot.” She lay in the stillness, listening for and hearing the soft sounds of her daughter’s slumber. A younger girl birthing? That couldn’t be a good thing. Why, the body wasn’t mature yet, not to mention the mind. How was a half-grown girl supposed to handle a baby of her own? Kaelan’s mind named the difficulties as she nodded in and out. Her head ached from the wine, ached until it made her sick. Poor little girl, not yet grown, giving birth to a child she’s not to have. Scared out of her wits and in the presence of strangers. Jewel knows what to do. She’ll calm her, care for her. It’s her nature as a birther. She knows best, she... Kaelan began to snore, her alcohol torpor unaffected by the occasional cries of the young mother. One became accustomed to it. It was part of the Taelach existence.
Chapter Four
Learning requires emotion.
—Observer of a misplaced sister
Dawn had yet to reveal its face when the bell behind the smoker shed sounded. Rankil thought it part of some wishful dream until Granny Terry roused her with a poke of her cane. “Rankil, the bell. Dress and go see what they’ve left.”
Still tying her waist lacings, Rankil scurried out the door and through the garden, the grass lapping cold at her toes. Yawning, she leaned against the shed’s splintering outer wall and opened the box, crying with joy when she saw the contents. Kaelan had left three bulging sacks, each a wealth of Taelach information. Rankil hefted the sacks over one shoulder with an easy toss then turned toward where she believed the giver might hide. “Thank you!” she cried in Autlach, then hurried back to the house and Terry.
Once Kaelan was certain Rankil was inside, she made her way to the garden and began staking the hide markers that were to be Rankil’s first lessons. “The girl is stout,” she mumbled while setting the markers. “Grabbed up those bags like they were empty. She’ll be a formidable opponent by the time she’s through growing. Might be a proper beau for Myrla by that time, too.” Tempted as she was to observe Rankil’s excitement, Kaelan returned to her mount. Clan duty called. There were a number of store pots to be fired before summer’s end and, after all, she had promised Recca.
Kathump ! Granny Terry jumped when Rankil dropped the sacks onto the table. “Gracious! Did they leave an entire side of beast?”
“No, Granny Terry, three sacks for you. THREE!”
“You mean for you.”
“For me?” Rankil picked at the complicated knot at the top of one. “And they’re marked with some kind of odd symbols. I’m having trouble with the . . . okay, there it is.” She spilled the contents across the table.
Terry placed the kettle to heat then drew her rocker close. “Tell me what you’ve found.”
Rankil scrubbed the sleep from her eyes. “There’s so much I don’t know
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