The Strangling

Now he was shocked. He didn't realize that people felt that way about them. “It is not like that at all, if you were to come to Western Tor and meet the elders you would see that."

"Maybe.” Her eyes twinkled. “The two elders I have met thus far have set my thinking on the matter in very different directions."

How could he not appreciate that? “You have a fair point, Maerose. In fact, perhaps you are right, that we have become too distant from the villagers that we seek to help. A century ago, it was not this way.” He brooded on that a moment, and wondered if it might be something for the future, for a new order. If, of course, they were to survive this difficult time.

"Do the women there learn the ways of magic, the things that you know?"

"Yes, we are equal in the elder ways, although the women have traditionally had more talents for prediction, the sight of events that have not yet happened. The elder that predicted the events at this time, was a woman. Her name was Amelia."

"Amelia.” She repeated the name, thoughtfully. “It does sound very different to our village life, though."

"How so?"

She shrugged. “The men are the ones who take charge, where I come from."

"Ah. You talk about such things as daily tasks?"

"Yes."

"In that you would probably find us similar, the tasks fall easily between the sexes."

She gave a wry smile. “My father takes responsibility for the young ones in his own way, but in others he is helpless, although he'd never admit it. He cannot cook, as you do. If it were not for my sister, Russet, they would all be starving now, without me. Why, my younger brothers think that the piss pots go out in the morning and empty themselves, as if by magic."

He chuckled. Her eyebrows were lifted and she looked so earnest that he felt warmth and pride stirring deep in his chest. She did not just accept things, as many young women might. That pleased him greatly. “The relationship between the sexes demands balance, and it's a balance that is often hard to sustain. Would you rather be shoeing the horses?” The idea tickled him, but the more he learnt about her, the more he believed in her potential.

"Well, I suppose not, but I would like to know that I could shoe a horse, if needs be. Does that make sense?"

"It does, and I am sure you could do most of the things that your father does, and a great deal more."

She chuckled. “My mother could have, I know that. When he had a fever one winter, shoeing the horses was about the only thing my mother didn't do."

He watched her, thoughtfully. Egremont had said that he hoped she might be drawn to their ways, instinctively. Was it too soon to say that? He suspected it was. He had to be careful how much information he loaded upon her at once. “They were a strong couple?"

She nodded. “They matched each other well."

"The best a couple can do is to be strong for each other, if one of them is weak. Each one of us lives life like the ebb and flow of the tides, sometimes waning, sometimes fierce. Ultimately, though, one person cannot be strong all the time; in a couple, or a chain, they will always be strong."

"Yes, it makes sense. But you did not trust your own strength to keep me by your side, at first,” she teased.

He shifted, feeling guilty. “No, and for that I apologize. I feared you would run before I had a chance to explain."

"You did not think you could capture me?” The look in her eyes was all woman, challenging him.

"Oh yes, but I did not want to have to."

The simple exchange charged the air between them, setting in motion a rush of desire that lifted and whirled around them, heating the atmosphere with its dense need and the underlying sense of provocation.

After a moment, she lifted her dish, warming her hands. “What were you planning to do, had Veldor not come for me?"

That surprised him, too. Her mind was busy investigating every path there was to explore. “I was going to approach your father and the other villagers, discuss the matter with them and beseech them to let me lead you."

Her gaze searched his face. “We would have met, whatever happened."

He nodded. Yes, they were always going to meet. Again, desire pulsed between them, and then rose into the air. The cave was filling with it.

She took a sip from her dish and smiled at him. “This is a good brew.” She took another sip. “Have you any ground cinnamon?"

"You think it would benefit?"