The Chieftain Needs an Heir - a Highland ménage novella (Clan MacKrannan's Secret Traditions) (8 page)

"Such was
Coinneach's delight at the remedy's success that he built the Chamber of the Green Man beside the Vault for all Fertility Traditions to be enacted in comfort and privacy.  And thus Coinneach's Tall Wife was honored.

"
And as the years passed, and ignorance turned to knowledge, this remedy was modified and the abundant Rules of Engagement written in the Green Book's pages.  And there it is added how effective this remedy was for Niall's great-great-great-grandmother, for she had many bairns in years to come, even after the Chief's brothers were killed in battle and his cousins used for the chore."

The Bard took a wee pause here, for it was the next bit would affect
those around him in the circle, and he must be sure they were paying full attention.

"
The remedy called the
Pushyng in of Spend
is written for the First Moon as this.  The husband will Spend in his wife.  And after him a second man who is fresh and unspent will Push the Spend in further.  And after him a third man will do likewise.  This second man will be Ruaridh.  The third man will be Hector."

He stopped to let the news sink in.

Looking around the circle to gauge reactions, he saw the two Wisewomen had left their stars to hold Sorcha's hands… or were they holding her up?  Sorcha was in shock, but apart from that she was looking well, verra well indeed.  Oona's bees and eating habits had worked their wonders.  The Bard looked past Oona who already knew all about the remedy, and Mirren he didna care about, and on to Ruaridh.  Caught!  Flushed, but no displeased.  The remedy would save him the bother of going wenching for once.

But was
the man focussed?  Luck if Mirren would speak out again, for Ruaridh would do his part infinitely better with her gone.

He'd missed Niall's first reaction because of starting with Sorcha
, so he looked now to the chieftain once the news had settled in.  A bit wider about the eyes but still the warrior, accepting orders from the king's messenger and giving orders to the clan's military contingent and getting the job done.  Nothing would faze him.  For all Niall's eyes were on Sorcha, his mind was focussed on the clan and getting the Heir's Cradle filled.  The Wisewomen had done a grand job there.

Big Hector had much the same
look of the soldier who would get the job done for the good of his MacKrannan bloodline.  The Bard could only see his profile, Hector being next to him in the circle, but he followed his line of vision.  Hector was staring at Sorcha, and it was as if he were saying sorry.  Fair enough, for Hector's manners were impeccable.  As long as he wasna crying off, for he was so perfectly suited to the task that it would a pity for him no' to manage.

On with it, then.

"The Grandam Wisewoman will now give the first set of the Rules of Engagement she has transcribed and summarized from the ancient script."

Oona fetched a parchment from up her commodious sleeve
, cleared her throat, and began.

"
The First Rule for the First Moon.  The husband must Spend in his Tall Wife, for that is the Spend for Pushing In.  The second man will then enter the wife and keep Pushing In the Spend until he is ready to spend himself outside of her.  Thus it is proven he was virile enough for Pushing in the Spend of the chieftain, and that his potency grew to the utmost size he could muster.  The third man likewise to the second."

Sorcha
thought the easiest way out would be to curl up and die of the shame.  Despicable enough it was to have seven witnesses, and now her longed-for reunion with Niall was going to be a free-for-all.  But she'd get through it.  Better this than having an 'accident'.  Better than being poisoned or being thrown from her horse down a gulley like some other wives in the clan's history – and
that
kind of remedy would be no different in any other clan, and even worse among the nobility.

Niall'
s eyes had never left her, yet her eyes stole to the men either side of him.

Ruaridh had the
nerve to be red in the face when it was herself would be the one ravaged by three different men.  And then she saw that what she'd thought embarrassment was lust…  Ruaridh?  Where had that come from?

She looked back to her husband
quickly and found love in his eyes, and saw his pride in her, just like at their Coupling of the Chieftain after their wedding.  She could no' let him down.

Beside him stood Hector,
the only man she'd ever known who made her look extremely dainty.  She was right glad he would be last… if he managed this Tradition at all, for he was covered in apology and hung his head when she looked his way now.

Easier
if it were two strangers.  Or would it…?  Ruaridh and Hector were at least handsome big men in the peak of physical condition, same as her husband.  They even had the same dark hair and eyes.  More than once she'd mistaken Ruaridh for his brother at a distance.

There was nothing to be done about this but get it over with.  A wife's duty was to fill the Heir's Cradle
.  She had failed.  If this brought her a son, so be it.

"The next Rule of Engagement is this," said Oona, her finger moving down the parchment.  "The
Tall Wife must have her own bliss three times, for it is the clenching of the wife draws the husband's seed into her womb.  The husband may cause his Tall Wife only one bliss, for she must clench twice during the Pushing In."

Sorcha was so
overripe for coupling that she just might have her first bliss before anyone touched her.  Even the floor carving of the Venus star was tingling her toes and sending tremors through her.  The Tradition would be over quickly if it were just Niall.  He could bring her a lot more than three blisses in one night… and even the remembrance of his clever ways sent a jolt through her.  This Rule could be a worry, for she had no idea if Ruaridh and Hector's skills would be adequate to give her the further two blisses required.

And then Oona made the worry much worse.

"The next Rule of Engagement is this.  The husband will Spend facing his wife, for this is his wife.  The second man will Push the Spend In from the back, for this is not his wife, and likewise the third man..."

Sorcha
realised just how ignorant her husband's ancestors had been.  Didn't everyone know that fertility was increased if your husband spent from behind you?  Even though she didn't have four legs, she trusted her advisers that nature's ways were the best for breeding.  And she saw Ruaridh's face, even redder than before, and suspected Niall's Spend would be well pushed in no matter the position it had come from.

"…And the next Rule of Engagemen
t is this.  The Tall Wife will go willingly to the arch and…  Ach, we have forgot the arch!  Hilde… Cecily… if ye please."

Sorcha heard some clicking sounds behind her
.  Suddenly the two Wisewoman were passing either side, and an archway appeared over her head and was taken to the centre of the circle. The arch looked familiar.  She stole a glance over her shoulder and saw it had indeed come from the fireplace, the one covered in leaves she'd thought just trimming on the surround.  The Wisewomen fixed it into place by lifting two carved planets from the floor and clunking the ends firmly down into the slots until the first of the leaves met the floor.

On her left, Sorcha could see this arched bower's
counterpart in the fresco at the beginning of the cycle of procreation.  And there was the man's bare shoulder, and his hand atop a woman's hand among the vines.

"
And the last Rule of Engagement is this.  Any of the three men may choose a woman in her fertile years from the circle to rouse him, for the three men will be without the touch of the Tall Wife holding the arch.  And thus will the other women in the circle assist the Tall Wife and the chieftain and the Pushing In of Spend in this Tradition."

Oona slipped the parchment up her sleeve.  "
And that is the last Rule of Engagement for the First Moon.  The Rules for the Second Moon will be told at the Second Moon, should a Second Moon be required.  Are there any questions from the…?"

She was interru
pted by Mirren before the word 'participants' left her mouth.

"What kind of
witch are ye, Oona… putting three men on the one barren wife and my husband among them?  This is naught but a bitch in heat and a pack o' hounds upon her!" she spat.  "What say ye of such foul Traditions, auld Bard? 
Address
me a' ye like now!"

A collective intake of breath came from the circle, and Ruaridh turned away from his wife. 
Mirren's insult went beyond the two people she hurled it at.  The insult was to all Wisewomen and their roles as midwives, herbalists, nurses to the sick and dying, animal physicians and Keepers of the Traditions.  To insult the Bard was even worse, for his role as genealogist, historian, storyteller, poet and Keeper of the Books of Tradition was to miscry the whole clan and the MacKrannan bloodline itself.

The Bard took a moment to calm himself before making reply.  And when he did, his words were studied.

"MIRREN, wife wf Ruaridh Mackrannan, I address ye.  The Traditions o' Clan MacKrannan are as ancient and honorable as the positions o' Bard and Grandam Wisewoman.  The details of each Fertility Tradition are no' of my choosing, nor hers.  They are chosen by the bloodline only, and developed by the clansfolk with the bloodline's approval.

"
And I address ye to say there is a sore price to be paid for being of the bloodline, and for marrying into it, for the privileges are hard-earned through duties and responsibilities and dangers.  When I lie wi' my wife at night I am verra glad to be a common man.

"
And I address ye to say just one more word… just ONE MORE WORD out o' ye, and ye will be banished from the clan for the customary three years.  Fine ye know that is the minimum penalty for disrespecting the Bard during a Tradition, for all but the Chief himself.  Ye've been warned for the last time."

The chamber's energies were
now in so much peril that Oona began humming the bees' song and was joined by Hilde and Cecily.

"All ye who are here
," said the Bard, "turn yerselves to be the outer of the circle.  The Grandam Wisewoman will decide when to resume the Tradition."

The
Grandam Wisewoman gave him their covert hand signal to let him know he'd done the right thing, such wifely encouragement often being necessary when things went wrong.

The
Bard made the decision to give the company time to re-focus on the business without having to look at each other.  Had he broken the circle to allow chatter and walking around, he'd have been as well cancelling the Tradition altogether for the night.  Ruaridh would be obliged to chastise his wife, and the further upset would no' be redeemable.  

He was of a mind to
let the Chamber of the Green Man work its own magic.  From his turned position he looked directly at the second fresco, the goddess newly with child.  He worked at gathering his mind back onto the business in front of his face, setting the example for those around him to do likewise.  Oona had charted the placements in the circle to place folks opposite each other.  He had no doubt that each here would see what they were meant to see now they were unexpectedly faced away, and then have it heavy on their necks when the circle was called in again.

Sorcha
stared to the burning logs, trying to find grief for her lost friendship with Mirren, and discovering instead that the flames purified her thoughts of a person who would stop her filling the Heir's Cradle in the traditional way of the clan.  The fire's dance in front of her was a help now.  In her mind's eye it was in Niall's bedchamber with a chair beside it, and she watched him hold their son in his big hands, and smile at her belly growing with another.

That was her dream.  She would do everything in her power to make it come true, and if that meant
holding onto the arch while his Spend was pushed further in by Ruaridh and Hector, so be it.

And it crossed her mind that she knew plenty of women at the royal court who would do such a thing just for the fun of it.
  Her duty was to do nothing at all and yet be blissed three times by three men.  A novelty that might never happen again in her whole life.  Indeed, if she wanted to clench very strongly during her blisses to pull in the Spend, the more she enjoyed it the better.