Nuworld: Claiming Tara (3 page)

Tara followed her.
Reena stepped to the side, allowing Tara to see the
inside of the home before she shut the door behind them.
The kitchen was merely a wall along the side of a small
living room. She put a tall thin pot on the stove and lit a
match to start the fire underneath it. A pie was produced
out of a cold box and the old woman pulled a plate out of
the freestanding cupboard. Reena placed a large slice of the
pie on it.
“It’s apple. I reckon I’ll make another one in the morning
for the Lord’s family. It helps to show my loyalty, you know.
Lord Darius knows I’ve entertained Runners before, but I
like to keep peace in the family, so to speak.” She placed
her hand over the pot, then reached for a rag hanging on
the cold box and removed the container from the stove. “Do
you like your coffee hot?”
“That’ll be fine. Thank you.” Tara couldn’t believe it. The
woman had coffee. That was a coveted treat. The plants
making the rare drink didn’t grow in their nation and were
only obtained with very good connections. How would an
old Gothman woman have such connections?
Reena picked up a wooden knitting needle and gathered
together a project she’d obviously been working on for some
time.
It
looked
like
a sweater.
Tara wondered
at the
patience required to take on such a task.
Crow’s feet appeared next to the old lady’s eyes as she
smiled, then used one of the knitting needles to point to a
lumpy couch with a multi-colored quilt thrown over the
back of it. “Sit. I’ll be curious to see how you plan on eating
that pie with your Runner headscarf over your face, and I’ll
be mighty offended if you refuse my food. My pies are
known throughout Gothman and if you travelled through
the trees with the usual Gothman hospitality to greet you, I
daresay you should be hungry.”
Tara pulled the black scarf from her face and stroked
the red circle around the embroidered red drop of blood—
the symbol of the Blood Circle Clan, to which she proudly
belonged.
Although
she
missed
her
clan,
if
she
lived
through her adventure in Gothman she would have the
best stories to tell around the fires. Tara folded and set the
headsgroundmobilef on the couch next to her.
She placed the mug of coffee on the wooden table in
front of the couch and eagerly tasted the sweet dessert. It
was as good as promised.
“I’m thinking if the Gothman guards knew they were
chasing such a beautiful wench as you, they’d have fought
a bit harder to capture you.”
The woman’s laugh made it hard not to smile.
If a person was judged by their home, then Reena was a
warm, caring person with patience and a solid foundation
in her
culture.
The
small wooden house
permanently
attached to the ground offered several different aromas that
Tara easily distinguished.
The wooden walls and floors smelled of the spicy scent of
the forest. The pungent smell of brewed coffee mixed with
the sweet bouquet of baked apples. Other aromas floated
through the air as well, not as easily defined—the pungent
tang of
spices and herbs used
either
for
cooking
or
medicinal purposes, and a sterile smell, possibly soap used
for laundry or bathing also hung in the air.
There were a variety of handcrafted items in addition to
the faded patchwork quilt on the sofa: a knitted blanket
hung over the back of the rocker where Reena sat, and
several stitched wall hangings framed the walls. These
items offered pieces of a story about the woman sitting
across from her, smiling peacefully and glancing at her
occasionally with gentle blue eyes.

Reena tried hard not to stare at the beautiful young
woman sitting on her couch. Tara’s light brown hair fell
past her shoulders and was as supple and shiny as silk.
Her complexion was fair. That Runner garb would prevent
her from being tanned by the sun. Her skin was smooth, at
least what Reena could see of it, with no battle scars,
which was a relief to see. The girl’s sapphire eyes took in
everything around her. They glowed with intelligence and a
bit too much cockiness for her own good.

Not that she should be surprised, Reena thought with
silent resignation. It was what got Tara this far, and was
what would keep her going. She’d waited so impatiently,
knowing Tara was on the
Age of Searching
and would
eventually show up. But now that she was here, all Reena
wanted to do was insist Tara remain with her and not go
further into Gothman. That wouldn’t work though. Tara
would continue her adventure and nothing Reena would
say or do would change that. She knew Runners all too
well. If only that glow would stay there, these next few
cycles might be tolerable for all of them.

“My goodness, you’re
so beautiful. The men of these
parts won’t be leaving you alone. Now you know Gothman
women don’t know the skills you’ve learned. It will be hard
shielding yourself. And a Runner found inside Gothman
will be killed.”

R
eena had to try, although Tara’s unconcerned answer
wasn’t surprising. “Well now, that’s good then. What’s your
name, and whose stories bring you here?”

“I’m Tara of the Blood Circle Clan.”
“Ah, Patha’s stories sent you here.” Reena nodded and
started to rock in her chair. It wasn’t as if she had doubted
who this Runner was, but now she knew for sure. She
would never have the skills of a Runner woman. But it was
her own adventures and stories that kept her calm and
quiet at the moment. Those were the skills Reena had
mastered over the winters, wearing a mask indifference.
“I’m Reena and you may call me that. Now, are you Patha’s
daughter?”
“I gained that honor at the age of four, but not by birth.”
Tara chewed as she spoke. “I’m on the
Age of Searching
and have heard the stories about you. Those stories also
told me that Gothman don’t like women.”
Reena laughed, but then worried she’d insulted Tara. It
was hard not to get up and move closer to this young
Runner.
“Gothman like their women just fine,” she said, and
smiled when Tara looked confused. “They like them in the
kitchen and in the bedroom. An unclaimed woman such as
you will be plenty liked in Gothman.”
Reena stopped laughing and asked what she needed to
know. “So, Tara of the Blood Circle Clan and daughter of
the leader of all Runners, I would think you’ve come here
with your head full of stories of Gothman. I know a Runner
doesn’t enter new land without a plan. So let’s hear it.”
“I—”
“You’re an excellent warrior,” Reena continued on. “You
got past the men protecting Gothman’s borders. But if you
display your skills you’ll be put in jail. Gothman women
don’t fight. You’re young and unclaimed. I daresay you’ll be
raped until you’re claimed. Although as pretty as you are, I
bet you’re claimed the first day you’re in Gothman.”
“I’ve been attacked before. Don’t worry about me. No one
is going to rape me. I promise. I know how to handle
myself.” Tara gestured with her fork. “Possibly you have
some clothing I could borrow. If I could mingle among the
Gothman, I’d learn so much.”
“I’m sure your skills are outstanding, but ten men
against one woman aren’t good odds…even if that woman
is a Runner.”
“I thought—” Tara began.
Reena shook her head but already saw the inevitable
happening. Why Patha hadn’t put a stop to this, Reena had
no clue. She might not be able to change Tara’s mind, but
she would protect her the best she could. “I might be able
to find some clothes that will fit you. You’re small, like me.”
“Would you be willing—” Tara’s rush of words were cut
off once more.
“I daresay in my youth I had much of your beauty. We
can’t hide yours. The more you change to fit in to our
culture, the more trouble you’ll bring on yourself.”
“I would never cause trouble.” Tara’s expression
brightened. “I will dress plain. I won’t bring trouble to you,
or to me. All I want is to walk the streets of Gothman.
There are many great stories about your people, Reena. I
want to witness for myself a culture so different from mine.
Will you help me?”
Reena’s warnings had been ignored. She also saw if she
didn’t agree, Tara would find another way into Gothman.
Reena didn’t like it. But if she helped Tara at least she
would know where she was. “Yes, I will help you,” Reena
relented. Patha had sent Tara to her. There was no way she
would let Tara out of her home without knowing her better
first. “I’ve known a Runner or two in my day. You want to
know about us, and if I don’t help you I’m sure you’ll resort
to another plan,. You’ll stay the night here. I’m sure Lord
Darius’ men will be keeping an eye on the woods for a
Runner through the rest of the night.”

Tara watched the old lady get up from her rocking chair
and open a door leading to a bedroom. Tara didn’t move,
but listened as the woman continued to talk to her about
Gothman. From what Patha had told her about these
people, Tara wondered why Reena didn’t have a man
around. Gothman women didn’t have a say over who
claimed them.

“I’m sure I’v
e an extra nightgown for you. We need to get
you out of those Runner clothes immediately. I’ve many
visitors and to be certain we’ll have to come up with a story
to explain your presence. The women around here use me
for a midwife and the Gothman like to reproduce. I stay
quite busy.” Reena retreated down a hall and into a dark
room, her voice trailing off as she moved.

“Let’s see.” She returned a minute later holding up a
long paisley nightgown with white ruffles around the collar.
“This is modest enough, and I think it might fit. I’m
thinking I’ll have to wash some clothes for you to wear
during the day. Not to worry, I’ll provide you with a decent
wardrobe. Go change into this. We’ll figure out the rest in
the morning.”

Tara took the nightgown to the bathroom and slowly
disrobed. She felt as if she were shedding her Runner
heritage as she changed. Along with her clothes she was
leaving behind the ways of the Runner. So far on her
Age
Of Searching
, when she came across a different culture
they knew her as a Runner. People kept their distances.
They knew and respected who she was. It wouldn’t be that
way in Gothman. Runners were shot on site here.
From
this point
forward
outwardly void
of
she
would be
a Gothman woman,

Her thoughts drifted back to her first encounter with the
Gothman in the forest. She hadn’t planned on making such
close contact with the brutal race so soon. They knew a
Runner was here. It didn’t make sense that she’d managed
to get this far without more Gothman warriors looking for
her. Considering the close range when they used the bang
sticks, she should be wounded or captured, if not killed.
Gothman warriors had to have better skills than what she
saw on her way here. Someone knocked on Reena’s door.
Tara shoved her worries away, grabbed her laser, and
hurried out of the bathroom.

her tracks. What happened to being submissive? Here she
was,
ready to
protect the old lady who
had been so
hospitable toward her by barging in to the living room with
her laser. And giving herself away in the process.

Passive
, she warned herself,
be passive
. Forcing herself
to slow down, she tiptoed to the end of the hallway.
“Joli, my dear, you’re not here for a social call at this
hour…am I right?” There was sincere concern in Reena’s
tone.
From her post at the end of the hallway, Tara caught a
glimpse of a very pregnant young woman standing in the
middle of the living room, her gaze focused on the ground.
She
heard
the
thud
of
boots
moving
with
slow
determination, making floorboards creak. She pressed her
body flat against the wall. She would rather observe than
be seen at this point.
Someone else hurried into the small house. The pitterpatter of small feet sounded everywhere. A young boy, with
strawberry-colored curls that bounced ridiculously around
his face, almost ran into her.
Tara didn’t move. Luckily the boy didn’t look her way
but paid attention to another person who’d entered Reena’s
cabin.
A booming male voice echoed off living room walls.
“She’s got the pain, Reena. And I daresay it’s not her time
yet.”
Tara knew if she peeked around the corner, she would
chance being seen. She gripped her laser in her hand. It
was weird
not having
her
Runner
attire
for
added
protection. In the flowing nightgown she was vulnerable,
exposed. Although the evening air felt cool against her skin,
small beads of perspiration formed between her breasts
and down her spine.
“I know it isn’t her time yet,” Reena snapped, showing
no fear of the burly man who stood almost twice her size.
“Togin, you’re wound tight. This is woman’s work. Be gone
with you. I’ll call for you when I need you.”
“I know you can help, Reena. She isn’t taking it easy like
you said.”
A shadow spread across the carpet, and floorboards
moved beneath a heavy burden. From the sounds, Tara
guessed the man was moving toward the door.
“I’ll be at the tavern in town when you need me. Some of
Lord Darius’ men are hovering down that way, I hear.
Figured I’d see what’s about in the town.”
“Then I shall call for you there should I need you.”
Reena’s tone gave no indication that warriors in town
bothered her in the least.
The door closed soundly. Tara heard a loud sigh escape
the young Gothman woman and the chattering questions of
the small boy and another youngster. A girl. The tension in
the room had disappeared with the hollow thud of the door.
“Likely you can’t be taking it easy when he has you
waiting on him hand and foot. Not to mention you’ve got
the young ones to care for. My now, look how the three of
you are growing.” Reena’s words sounded full of laughter.
Tara glanced around the corner and saw a teenage girl
hovering over the pregnant woman.
Reena ran her fingers through the girl’s pale red hair.
“Most likely, you’ll be getting claimed before you’re much
older as pretty as you’re getting to be.”
The young girl giggled and blushed.
“Reena, the pains are steady. I fear I’ve thrown myself
into labor.”
Joli looked down the hallway and spotted Tara. “Oh my
goodness, you’re already with someone. Togin should have
noticed before he left.”
“Nonsense. This is my niece, Tara. My brother sent her
to me just today. One of the Barg brothers wants to claim
her, and my brother will have no doings with the likes of
them. He sent her to me to see if I could get her claimed
here in Bryton.” Reena gestured for Tara to come to her.
“Help me get Joli into my bed, will you? I’ll get my herbs to
brewing. They should stop that child from coming before
his time.”
Tara and Reena walked Joli into a large bedroom, which
was no small feat, given that Joli was close to full term and
quite heavy. Tara literally carried her to the bed, taking as
much weight onto her shoulders as she could. Reena never
would have been able to handle the situation on her own.
Tara welcomed the distraction of making sure Joli was
comfortable, or as comfortable as possible.
Having a fair bit of birthing knowledge through the
winters with the women in the clan, Tara noticed Joli’s
baby was low. Although Tara had never had a baby, she
knew
cramping
was
common
when
the
baby
was
positioned in the womb to be born.
Tara remembered helping a clan member thrown into
labor. Only a child at the time, Tara still remembered
pounding Wild Yam root into powder to help soothe the
pain. She watched Reena use the same root now.
“Joli dear, I save this bedroom for all my special ladies
who visit me,” Reena cooed as she pulled an old, but clean,
blanket to the end of the bed once she was done with the
roots.
Tara half placed, half dropped Joli onto the sheet. The
woman struggled in her arms, making it hard to place her
gently.
“Grab some more blankets from that shelf in the closet.”
Reena pointed to a closed door and Tara turned. “I’ll put
the kettle on to boil.” The older woman scurried from the
room.
“If we can get you to lie on your left side, it should stop
some of the stomach discomfort,” Tara said quietly, trying
to match the dialect of the Gothman. She helped the
woman but didn’t think she looked too comfortable when
Tara finally left her alone to find Reena.
Reena was digging through one of the cupboards when
Tara entered the living room. She saw the three children
standing awkwardly in the middle of the room, their large
brown eyes showing fear and worry for their mama.
“Ah, not to worry, little ones.” Tara knelt in front of the
three children and reached her arms out to hug them.
“We’ll take good care of her now.”
“I’m thinking you’ll have to give up the back room
tonight, my dear,” Reena said to Tara. “Let’s give the
children some of my pie, and then we can put them down
in the bed back there. We have a long night ahead of us, I
fear.”
After a quick check of her herbs on the stove, Reena set
out plates on the counter and began slicing pie. “Seems
more
nights than not,
my
house
will fill
with family
members. I get accustomed to having the bodies around. I
daresay there’s plenty of blankets.”
Tara sat the three children around Reena’s kitchen table
and fed them each a slice of the pie she’d so recently
enjoyed. The children eagerly took in the sweetness and
had it gone in no time. Tara grabbed a cloth and started
applying it to the fingers of the youngest before he could
damage Reena’s house. The boy, who couldn’t be school-
age, Tara decided, as she looked at his soft baby skin,
immediately fought his restraints.
“My mama always sends me out to the water buckets,”
the boy complained.
Tara kept a firm grip on the sticky hand until all
remnants of pie were gone. “It’s dark outside.”
“Being afraid of the dark is for women.” The child stood
in defiance and forgot to run when Tara released him.
She ruffled his curls, bringing him back to reality, and
smiled at the older daughter who was clearing dishes.
“Reena?” Joli called out, then groaned.
The old lady patted Tara’s shoulder as she passed on
her way to Joli. Joli’s grunts grew louder, and the children
stared at the closed door.
“Let’s check out the sleeping arrangement, shall we?”
Tara herded the children toward the hallway.
“I want to say goodnight to my Mama.” It was the first
time the middle child, a skinny girl with a shapeless dress
hanging on her bony figure, had spoken.
“As soon as your mama’s cramping has eased, I’m sure
she’ll come gather the lot of you.” Tara smiled at the child,
who didn’t smile back.
She nestled the three under thick quilts covering the
bed. A small lamp on a tall narrow dresser provided the
only light for the room and sent long shadows up the wall.
Tara sat with them and hummed quietly. After a few
minutes, it dawned on her that she hummed a Runner
lullaby. The children stared glassy-eyed at the ceiling and
didn’t comment so she continued until she noticed eyelids
bobbing.
“Does it hurt terribly to have a babe?” the oldest asked,
continuing to stare at the ceiling.
“I’ve never had a baby, so I don’t know,” Tara whispered
the half-truth, watching as the youngest curled into his
sister and plugged his thumb into his mouth.
“When the claim to the man who lives next to us had her
last baby, she screamed through the whole thing. Couldn’t
talk more than a whisper for almost a cycle after that. Her
claim says he is gonna keep her with child just to keep her
quiet.” The brief tale was said without inflection, and Tara
couldn’t guess from the young girl’s expression how she felt
about such an atrocity. Tara wanted to tell her the brute
should have his balls cut. “I should be with Mama.”
“I’m thinking your Mama would appreciate you keeping
an eye on your brother and sister for her. They will be
frightened if they wake in a strange bed.” Tara hoped she
didn’t exaggerate the Gothman accent, but the young girl
seemed relaxed speaking with her, so she guessed she was
speaking the inflection right.
Tara remained with the children until all three were
asleep. She crept over the wooden floor into the kitchen.
Reena’s house was quiet and she didn’t want to disturb the
pregnant mama.
“You’ve a way with the young ones,” Reena said as she
stirred something over the stove. She reached beside her
and picked up a bottle containing a green powder, then
began sprinkling it into her concoction.
“I’ve had a fair bit of experience in that area.” Tara
thought of all the children who were often left in her charge
when the clan travelled. More times than not, she had
wanted part in the adventures of the adults, instead of
playing with kids. But she wouldn’t deny she had learned
from the experience of babysitting.
“I daresay your knowing that will come in quite handy in
these parts. As my niece, you’re now officially
my
apprentice. Come here and sift the root from the brew.”
It was a long night. Tara stared at the almost empty pot
on the stove, thinking there was no way Joli could possibly
consume more of the liquid. She knew if she helped Joli to
the bathroom one more time, her muscles would be too
sore to defend herself against Gothman warriors if the need
arose.
Other than the sound of branches brushing the roof, it
remained
quiet.
Later
in the
evening,
however,
Tara
thought she heard something else. Someone was moving
around outside the small wooden cottage. No one else in
the
house
heard
the
boots
crunching out
front.
Tara
guessed the branches scraping the roof were loud enough
to
conceal any other
sound
outside,
at least to
an
untrained ear. Tara knew what she heard, once even aware
that someone stepped onto the open room. The squeaking
of wooden floorboards gave away their position.
The curtains were drawn, and she had no light from
outside to aid in seeing into the darkness. That put her at a
disadvantage she didn’t like. She knew whoever was
outside would be able to see through the thin curtains and
into the cottage. With two lamps in the living room and the
overhead light burning in the kitchen, Tara was on display
to anyone who cared to look. No one ever came to the door,
though. Tara ached to go outside and investigate but knew
Gothman women wouldn’t do such a thing.
A short time later, Reena plopped down on the couch in
the living room. “Well, the pains have stopped, and I am
not afraid to say I don’t know as I could have helped her
without you.” She smiled at Tara. “You were a smart one to
stay out of sight when Togin was here.”
Tara glanced again at the curtains that hid the window.
She didn’t hear anything else, and Reena didn’t act as if
she had heard sounds outside. It was pointless to say
anything. Instead she watched Reena make hot tea and
joined the older woman when she relaxed on her couch.
Reena continued her quiet musings. “I couldn’t speak on
this when his claim was still awake. She’d be loyal to him.
He’s one of Lord Darius’ men, and I’m a thinking he slipped
his wife some powder to bring the baby just so he might get
another look in here.”
Tara shook her head. Gothman women had less say
than Tara had imagined, even over their bodies. She took
in the information and but didn’t know what to say.