The following day, while walking in the high woods, the fear had come upon Arian. Her legs gave way beneath her and she sank sobbing to the ground. ‘I don’t want to die,’ she said. ‘Not ever. I don’t want to be that cold.’
The fear, once begun, continued to grow. She sat by the tree, terror feeding on her soul, gnawing at her. She heard the sound of a walking horse and, desperate for company, she pushed herself to her feet and ran towards the sound. The rider was a middle-aged man, with a round, kindly face. He was not Rigante, and she guessed him to be a merchant, or an emissary, heading for the Hall of the Long Laird. Drawing on the reins, the rider stopped.
‘What is wrong, young lady?’ he asked, his accent and rounded vowels showing him to be from the south.
‘Nothing,’ she said, wiping the tears from her face. ‘I was just … a little frightened.’
‘Is there an animal close by?’
‘No.’ She felt foolish now, and forced a smile. ‘I fell asleep and was dreaming.’
‘You are trembling,’ he said, dismounting. He was not tall – no more than an inch or two taller than she. Stepping in close he put his arm around her. ‘There, there,’ he said, soothingly. ‘Don’t be frightened. It is a lovely, bright day, and there is nothing in these woods to harm you.’
The fear began to subside, but she knew it was still there, hiding, waiting. She snuggled in close to the man, feeling him pat her back and stroke her hair. She began to feel a little calmer. Then his hand slid down over her buttocks. She tensed, but his voice was soothing. ‘I can make all your fears go away,’ he said. ‘I can bring you joy, and make the sun shine brightly. Trust me.’ He kissed her cheek; then, gently placing his hand under her chin, he tilted her head towards him. His lips brushed against hers. His right hand slipped over her hips and across her belly. She shivered. He was right. The fear had gone now. And the sun was shining brightly.
What she remembered most about that first time was the warmth of skin upon skin, the man above her, his flesh wet with sweat, her body responding, full of life. No fear now, no terrifying emptiness, no thoughts of the grave.
‘Was it good for you?’ he asked her, as they lay together on the grass.
‘Yes, it was good.’
‘How old are you?’
‘Thirteen. Almost fourteen.’
‘Not an earth maiden, then?’
‘No. My father is the smith at Three Streams.’
‘You are a fine girl,’ he said, rising and pulling on his leggings and shirt. Reaching into his pouch he tossed her a silver coin. ‘Let us keep this little tryst to ourselves, eh? A private little moment of wonder and joy.’
She nodded, and said nothing more as he mounted his pony and rode away.
Two months later she was seeking the advice of Eriatha, the red-haired earth maiden, who informed her bluntly that she was pregnant. Arian was terrified and begged Eriatha to help her. The earth maiden supplied her with a herbal potion. The taste was sickening, and when it hit her stomach the effect was hideous and painful. But the pregnancy was ended and Arian gave Eriatha the merchant’s silver coin.
Afterwards they had sat in the small, round hut where Eriatha entertained her clients. Eriatha gave Arian a clay cup of sweetened cider to take away the taste of the potion. ‘You are too young to play this game,’ said Eriatha. ‘Why did you do it?’
Arian haltingly told her of her sister’s death, and the terrible fear it had left behind – a cold fear which the merchant’s hot, sweating, heaving body had taken away. Eriatha listened patiently, and when she spoke it was without criticism. ‘We all deal with fears the best way we can,’ she said. ‘But – and I want you to believe me -rutting with strangers carries too many dangers. I know. When I was thirteen – which seems a hundred years ago now, though it is only ten – I too discovered the heady joys of the game. It was with a married man – a friend of my father. When we were found out my family disowned me, my tribe cast me out. Now I rut for money, and I live alone. I am suited to this life, Arian. You are not. And think on this, in trying to overcome your fear of death, you have caused the death of a child inside you. That is no small matter, girl.’