Beyond the Gyre

Chapter One-3

“Is it? And why is that?” Her big brown eyes flashed with annoyance.

“Because you want me. Just like I want you.” He pulled her close again and kissed her. She did not try to escape. “See,” he said, triumphantly. “It feels good, does it not? And I can make it even better. Let me please you, Poppy.”

Poppy flushed. “Don’t pretend you know what you are talking about.”

“Oh, really? I’ve been with women before. I haven’t had any complaints.”

“I don’t believe it. How could you...”

He said smugly, “Don’t forget that I get to leave this backwater twice a year with Dad, to go to Minbeorg for supplies. Plenty of willing girls there, down by the docks. I took my first at age thirteen.”

“Thirteen?” Poppy repeated in disbelief.

“Yes. So what? I was tall, even then. I told the woman at the bawdy house I was eighteen. The gold piece I gave her made sure she didn’t ask any more questions.”

She looked skeptical. “And I suppose Ikor Gunnar just waited outside the door for you?”

Jakob shrugged. “Dad was busy seeing to the loading and Lut was helping him, of course. I slipped away for a couple of hours. I caught hell when I got back, but I didn’t care. It was worth it.” He stepped closer, making her aware of the difference in their heights. Her head reached to just below his collarbone. He wrapped his fingers around her arm again, quite loosely, the promise of his strength and authority undeclared between them. But Poppy did not feel afraid.

“I don’t care if you have been with a hundred girls,” she said firmly. “I haven’t made up my mind yet, so you will just have to go on waiting until I do.” She glared at him for a moment, and then turned away, saying casually, “See you back at the byre.”

She headed towards the cow shed, over by Ikora[4] Gwenn’s big house, Asavale, in a sheltered valley on the west side of Asaruthe. The afternoon sun beat down on her bare head, and she paused to pull her fichu over her long brown hair, and then wrap it around her shoulder. She considered Jakob’s request as she did so.

Poppy was not naive. Her physician mother had made quite sure that she understood the ways of intimacy between men and women. Though Poppy had demurred at Katkin’s offer of herbs to prevent pregnancy, saying she had no need of them, her mother, giving her a sharp look, had said, “Come to me when you do. With those boys of Gwenn’s sniffing around, it is only a matter of time.”

That had been three years ago, and since then she and Jakob had become more than friends, but she still could not convince herself that she wanted a s****l relationship with him. The herbs weren’t always effective, for one thing, and then there was—

Lut appeared above her. His thick blond braids flashed in the sunlight as he made his way on the path, with his head down. She called, and he looked up without speaking in return. He waited while she scrambled up the slope towards him. Poppy smiled and a bright red tinge spread over the skin on his face and neck. “Hello, Lut.”

He nodded in return, with his eyes locked on the patch of sand between them. She stepped a little closer, so she could make eye contact. “Are you looking for Myrie?” Another nod, accompanied by a quick backwards step.

“I saw her a while ago. With Gwillam. They went over to that patch of wild gooseberries by the long rill.”

Lut cleared his throat. Poppy waited as he twisted the beaded wristlet he always wore. His Adam’s apple bobbed a couple of times. Finally, he blurted, “Thanks.” His blue eyes narrowed with worry. The feeling overcame his shyness. “You didn’t tell Jakob, did you? Ma sent him to look for her, too.”

Poppy smiled reassuringly. “Of course not. I wouldn’t do that, Lut. We had enough trouble the last time he caught them together. Anyway, I saw him not long after. He was heading to the byre to see to the cows.”

They stood for a moment in silence. The sun went behind a cloud, and a shadow passed over them. Poppy shivered. She let her shawl slip to her shoulders, and hugged it for warmth. “Lut?” she asked softly. “Do you want me to show you where they are?”

He shook his head.

Poppy gazed at him helplessly. “Well, I guess I will see you later then.”

“Bye,” he said, and turned away.

“Bye,” she answered, as she studied his retreating back. His shoulders were wider than Jakob’s, probably because he did most of the net-hauling on the Able Drake. Jakob was the quicker thinker of the two, always ready with an excuse to avoid hard work. He was a talker, was Jakob, and Poppy enjoyed his company, at least until he had started pressuring her to give herself to him. But Lut...

Poppy hurried after him. “Wait!” He glanced back over his shoulder, and slowed his pace. “I forgot something. I wanted to ask you how Jepper was doing.”

His expression looked wary. “His leg is getting better. Your Ma splinted it.”

“Is he out with the other goats yet?”

Lut shook his head. “Too little. I made him a pen in the yard.”

He turned to go again, and Poppy laid a hand on his arm. “I think it is wonderful how you climbed down the cliff to rescue him, Lut. He would have starved to death otherwise.”

Lut froze and looked at her hand. She dropped it to her side. Slowly, he turned to face her. “Poppy,” he said softly, hesitatingly. “What do you want?”

Now it was her turn to stammer. “I... Nothing. I just want to talk to you. I mean, I want us to be friends, that is all.” Lut continued to look at her seriously.

“I thought you just wanted to spend time with Jakob.”

“Lut, why would you say that?”

“He told me so. He said that you were...” Lut stopped.

Poppy stared at him and a prickly feeling edged up the back of her neck. “What did he say? Tell me!”

Lut turned from her. “I got to go find Myrie. See you later.” He strode away, and Poppy tore after him. She dove in front and thrust her finger at his chest.

“I asked you a question, Lut!” He didn’t speak, so she demanded, “Answer me!”

“Jakob told me that he... that you...” He stopped again, in an absolute paroxysm of shyness.

Now Poppy felt certain she knew what he had been about to say. “He told you that he and I were lovers.”

He nodded miserably. Poppy fumed, “That lying braggart. I never.... You do believe me, don’t you?”

“Yes,” he murmured. “Of course I believe you. Jakob lies about all sorts of things. A couple of months ago he said he had been studying all morning with Pop, when actually he took the Able Drake and sailed her to Everruthe. Dad thrashed him when he found out.” Lut grinned at Poppy. She smiled back, thinking that she had never heard him say so many words in a row before.

“How did he find out?”

His smile grew wider. “Myrie saw him, and she told your brother. Gwill told Ma and she told Dad. He was plenty mad. We aren’t supposed to take the boat out on our own.” He paused and then raised his eyes to meet hers. “Do you want to show me where the gooseberries are? I really do have to find my sister.”

Poppy nodded happily. They walked together in companionable silence for a few moments and then Lut asked, “What is Pop teaching you in the afternoons?”

“I am learning Secunian. Ikor Kadya has a manuscript that he wants me to translate. A journal written by a ship’s Captain, named Josiah Tavish. Katkin took it from the Registrumhallen[5] in Scarfinda.”

“Why is it so important?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know, exactly. So far, it seems to be about cargo, and seamen. There is quite a bit I don’t understand — entries on navigation and currents and things like that.”

For a moment, it appeared Lut’s shyness would get the better of him, but finally he offered, “I could maybe help you with that, if you want me to. I know a little about sailing.”

Poppy gave him a brilliant smile. “Would you, Lut? That would be wonderful.”

They reached the birch grove. Lut gave her an odd glance as they passed through, but did not say anything.

Myrie and Gwillam had finished the last of the gooseberries when Lut and Poppy rounded the side of the dune. Gwillam grinned and waved. Poppy’s little brother was four years younger than she, but already the same height.

Myrie gave two clicks of her tongue as Lut patted her long dark hair affectionately. He knew she didn’t like to be touched anywhere else. Myrie didn’t talk like a normal person, although she was sixteen years old. Nor did she go to lessons with the others.

“Did you like the gooseberries, Myrie?” Poppy asked her, with a smile. Myrie smiled back, but her eyes were cloudy and unfocussed. She could look, no doubt about that, but she didn’t always see.

“Click clack clicketty,” said Myrie in reply.

Gwillam said, “That means she thought they were sour.”

Poppy replied, “Well the both of you will be lucky not to get a stomachache after all the fruit you ate. Now come on. Ikora Gwenn wants to give Myrie a haircut.”

Myrie lifted her head and shrieked, then dove down the hill towards the beach. Poppy shrugged when Lut frowned at her. “Sorry. I forget sometimes that she can understand what I say even though she can’t speak.”

Gwillam spoke. “Don’t worry, Poppy. I can catch her. Tell Ikora Gwenn I will bring her to Asavale in a moment.”

Poppy turned to Lut. “Do you want to walk to the byre with me?”

He nodded, shy again. Poppy, intent on cementing their friendship, thrust her arm through his as they walked to the top of the hill. At first he stiffened and tried to pull away, but after a time he seemed to relax, and started talking again. “Myrie is lucky to have Gwillam. No one else can understand what she says. He is a good friend to her.”

Poppy nodded. “I wish Jakob felt the same way.”

“Me too,” said Lut, and sighed. “Ma has talked to him about it lots of times. She says Myrie needs someone to watch over her, but he always argues that it ought to be one of us.” He snorted. “As if he would be bothered. He barely says two words to her in a day.”

Poppy couldn’t answer him for a moment. They were climbing the steepest part of the path that led up the cliff face and she needed all her breath as she clung to the rope rail that Gunnar had made for Arkady. Finally, they emerged on the top of the plateau that stretched east and west along the axis of the island of Asaruthe.

Panting, she turned back to admire the view. The sweep and curve of a sheltered bay spread below them, and beyond that, the ceaseless boom of the surf. Poppy gestured out to sea, “Look! I can see the Able Drake.”

Lut shaded his eyes with his hand. “Dad and Pop are on board. They must be going fishing again.” That he had two fathers did not strike him as odd in the least, although he knew enough not to mention it when they went to Minbeorg.

Poppy tutted. “I hope Ikor Kadya will be careful. If he fell in...”

“Dad would fish him out again,” said Lut, with the confident admiration of one who respected his father above all others.

“But he has only one leg. What if he couldn’t get to him in time?”

“Then he’d throw a rope.”

“Ikor would not be able to see a rope!” Poppy said crossly, but Lut shrugged.

“He is a good swimmer, Poppy, you know that. He could stay afloat for ages.”

They left the cliff’s edge and walked across the tops, staying well clear of the knots of sheep scattered about. Many of the ewes had lambs, which fled towards their mothers with bleats of alarm as Lut and Poppy passed. But a solitary lamb stood still, trembling, as they approached it.

“Where’s this one’s Ma, do you suppose?”

Poppy shrugged. “I don’t know, but it seems very unhappy. What should we do, Lut?”

Lut stared past the lamb, to where a ewe lay sprawled in the green grass. “Od’s Swallow! Not another one!” He strode past the lamb, which skittered away. Lut knelt and examined the dead sheep in disgust. A predator had torn out her throat. “Ma is going to have fits when she hears about this.”

Poppy joined him at the dead sheep’s side, holding her nose against the smell of decay.

“It is the second sheep she’s lost in the last month. One of the dogs is getting at them. We keep Bridie and Wink penned, so it must be yours.”

Poppy bristled. “It isn’t our dog, Lut Strong Arm! How dare you suggest such a thing?”

“Well, what else could it be? There aren’t any other predators on this island.”

“I don’t know. But Jolly would never attack a sheep. He is a good dog.”

“Jakob said he saw your dog running loose on the tops just last week. If Gwillam can’t keep...”

Poppy rounded on him. “Don’t be such an i***t, Lut! You just said yourself that Jakob can’t be trusted. He probably just wanted to get Gwill in trouble.”

He backed away from her wrath, waving his hands. “All right! All right! You win. Don’t take my head off.” The orphaned lamb behind them bleated pitifully.

“What should we do? If we leave the poor thing out here it will die.” Poppy’s eyes filled with tears.

Lut grinned. “Quit worrying. I will carry it back to the house with us now. It can go in the pen with Jepper.”

Poppy flashed him a grateful smile. “Thanks, Lut. I am sorry I called you an idiot.” They converged upon the lamb, which took off towards the cliff edge. Poppy looked on in alarm. “Oh no! Lut, stop her, or she will fall, just like Jepper!”

Lut put on a burst of speed. The lamb had almost reached the edge, running flat out, bleating in terror. He dove clumsily, and just missed the lamb’s back foot as it stumbled and headed in a new direction, skirting along the precipice. Poppy watched with her hand over her mouth as Lut gained his feet and chased the lamb again, calling to her to cut off its retreat. She hurried across the field, but not quickly enough to catch the fleeing animal. Just ahead, the ground fell away where a slip had claimed part of the cliff face.

The lamb disappeared over the side. A second later, so did Lut.

Poppy screamed in terror and ran for the edge of the cliff.