Last Wild Boy (13 page)

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“May I have the honour of seeing him?” an old one asked in a
cracked and respectful voice.

Nora and Mabon had descended down into the village with
Aesop, and they were now completely surrounded by small, hunch-backed outsiders with long white hair and homespun
tunics, each jostling for a view of Adam. There was an almost mystical respect for the child from this crowd of old and extremely odd outsiders.

“Yes, you may all see him,” said Nora. “But please remember that we are tired and hungry, as is the child. We've walked a long way. Could you find something for us to eat and somewhere safe for us to change and wash him? Then everyone can see him as much as they like. He'll be here for a while.”

There was a buzz of conversation amid the crowd, which began to move along with the travellers as they followed Aesop into the main building.

The guests were led to a well-lit dining area, where chubby elders ambled about in front of a huge stone fireplace. The arrival of the travellers caused an uproar, which quickly changed to festive joy. The gathering erupted into gleeful conversation and spontaneous music.

The leader of the kitchen crew welcomed them and led them to a huge table in the centre of the room. He was short and very fat, with the ruddiest cheeks Nora had ever seen and large, moist eyes that bulged like those of a fish. As he motioned for them to sit, he rocked back and forth from large foot to large foot. Nora chuckled as he almost toppled over in his excitement.

They were given carved wooden bowls of steaming porridge sweetened by something Nora had never tasted in Aahimsa. “What are we eating?” she whispered to Mabon, who sat opposite her.

“Porridge. It's made of oats, like the ones I added to our raccoon stew.”

“No! I know what porridge is. I mean the sweet stuff on top of the porridge.”

“It's maple sugar,” he said. “It is made from maple tree sap.
Have you never had it before?”

“No, never. It's amazing. It even makes porridge taste good.”

Next they were served platters of sliced bread with bowls of pale butter. Brin, the leader of the kitchen crew, placed a jar of something pale and yellow in front of Nora.

“Is this more maple sugar?” she asked.

“It's honey,” said Brin. “There is honey in Aahimsa. I know because I saw it shipped from the agricultural homelands to the city. But not honey like this. This honey was made by Brin the Engineer's bees from the pollen of the sweet clover of the Humber Valley. There is no honey in the universe that can match its wonderful flavour.”

“You're an engineer?” Nora asked as she spread a thick layer of honey on her bread and took a bite. She didn't know if it was the fresh air, or her hunger, or if it truly was the best honey in the universe, but it tasted fantastic.

“Was an engineer. Old titles die hard here. In the time before we came here, we were only known by what we did. We had no personal worth back then. Now that we've finished installing electric power in our buildings — power we're stealing from the Manuhome wind farm,” he added slyly, “I'm done with engineering. I'm more interested in my bees and my herd of lovely goats.” He looked down at Adam in his basket. “Would the child like some warm sweet goat milk, perhaps?”

“I still have some infant nutrifier left,” said Nora. “He'll be all right. But thank you.”

“I know of nutrifier. It's the fake milk used by the poor of the city. The milk from my goats is real. It will please him like my honey pleased you. You can taste the sweetness of the clover, can't you?” He waited, knowing she would answer in the affirmative.

She didn't disappoint. “It's delicious, Brin. Thank you.” She picked Adam up out of his basket and sat him on her lap. “Maybe we'll try your goat's milk, after all.”

Soon Nora and Mabon were so full of the wonderful food that they felt uncomfortable. Adam slept full-bellied and satisfied in his basket on the bench next to Nora.

“I can hardly keep my eyes open,” Nora whispered to Mabon. “Adam's asleep and I promised the old ones they could see him. But do you think they could they wait for the morning?”

Brin must have either overheard her or anticipated her fatigue, because he came up behind her and said, “You must be exhausted after your long journey!” He gestured for them to follow him. “I'll take you up to your rooms, if you'd like.”

The round little man once again bounced from foot to foot as he led them through the winding corridors of the main building. Nora was too tired to laugh, but she smiled at the happy motion as they passed several large storage areas — former parking garages — that were full of wooden barrels and crates. “What are those?” she asked drowsily.

“We keep grains and vegetables in storage,” explained Brin. “We've managed to relearn many of the old ways. Our pickles
and jams are wonderful, if I do say so myself. I know it isn't
polite to boast, but when one gets to my age there is no harm in indulging one's ego.”

They climbed a set up stairs up to a hallway lined with numbered doors. Brin motioned for Nora and Mabon to follow him into the first of the rooms. “Mabon can use this one. It has been vacant for a few weeks. It belonged to Narn the Gardener. You will sleep well in here, Mabon. Narn was a good spirit. He rests now with his god.”

The room was dry and cozy, with a small bed of hand-worked pine. It was topped with a brightly-dyed wool blanket. A multi-colored braided rug covered the stone floor beside the bed. On a squat wooden side table on the other side of the bed sat an
earthenware pitcher and bowl and a thick, woven hand cloth
and towel. A small lamp in the corner cast a halo of light across the warm, tidy room.

“Thank you, Brin,” said Mabon. “Compared to my hut in the dead zone, this is heaven.”

Brin led Nora and Adam into the adjoining room. Nora spied a wooden cradle on the floor beside the huge bed and guessed that special preparations had been made while they'd eaten. She was moved at the gentle thoughtfulness of these outsiders. “Where did you find the cradle?” she asked.

Brin laughed. “There's no place to
find
anything among us. But we are very handy. Cable the Carpenter apologizes for the crudeness of his work. He didn't have time to do it well, but he promises to improve upon it once the child wakes tomorrow.”

The huge bed intended for Nora was similar in design to Mabon's single bed in the adjoining chamber. Its white sheets were covered in thick furs and there was an enormous fluffy pillow at its head. The room was also furnished with a table and a much larger braided rug. An oil lamp, the twin of Mabon's, burned with a yellow flame on top of the side table. The room was basic, but it manifested a simple elegance.

“Goodnight, good woman,” said Brin as he backed from the
room.

Nora didn't know why she felt so moved by Brin's calling her a good woman, but she was definitely touched. She walked over to the cradle and was about to set Adam inside, but then she decided she wasn't ready to separate herself from him. She carried him up into the bed and placed him close to her among the soft furs. He stirred for a moment and his big eyes looked up into hers. He smiled. She closed her eyes and pulled him close.

“Goodnight, angel,” she whispered, thinking how nice her words had sounded, and wondering just exactly how angels really looked. Before she fell asleep, she had a feeling that something was missing. She thought about Alice a moment, but she realized it wasn't Alice's presence she missed. It was Mabon's. She had grown used to his being close. It was an odd feeling, missing him, but she smiled in spite of herself and fell soundly asleep.

C
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When the anticipated day finally dawned, sunny and warm, the autumn colors had painted the trees golden in the dense stands around the manor. The workers at the city stables had spent hours grooming their finest matching pair of fillies, which were adorned in shimmering silver buckles and brightly buffed harnesses. Their manes were brushed and fluffed and they were ready to lead the polished ebony carriage, with its inlays of silver and gold, through the narrow cobbled pathways leading to the sacred fertility temple.

The carriage ride had been the mayor's idea. After her initial hesitation over her daughter's plan, Blanchefleur had finally accepted Alice's choice as inevitable, and had thrown herself into the preparations headfirst, insisting on only the best for her daughter's temple ceremony.

Alice was radiant as she stepped out the manor house doors and headed down to her carriage. She was wearing a shimmering gown that seemed fashioned of the same material as the snow-white orchids in her flowing blonde hair. A pair of simple white leather ballet slippers completed her outfit.

The ceremonial route was lined on both sides by hundreds of well-wishers and admirers, who waved and cheered enthusiastically as the mayor and her daughter drove by. Upon their arrival at the temple, the entourage was greeted by hundreds of exuberant children, dressed in garments as bright as garden flowers, who sang to the spectators and scattered soft, fragrant petals all the way up the temple steps.

As Alice stepped across the threshold and into the exterior lobby, the entire temple began to hum and vibrate with the heavy notes of the mighty pipe organ playing Aahimsa's city anthem. As Alice stepped into the main chamber, the crowd rose to its feet and gasped in awe and appreciation of her magnificent gown.

When the anthem had ended, the organ adjusted its button stops and began to play the opening bars of the magnificent “Life-Giver March,” which praised the earth and its wondrous bounty and celebrated the wonders of birth and renewal. The huge temple choir joined in, and Alice and Blanchefleur began their slow walk down the long aisle of Aahimsa's Temple of Life.

At the altar, the holy women of the temple waited for Alice to arrive. Today they wore the blood-red robes of the Holy Creation ceremony. Behind the women stood a series of carved figures depicting the many races of insiders within Aahimsa. Each carved figure represented fertility and the miracles of pregnancy and birth. The statues stood forming a circle, within which a tent of translucent white silk was suspended. This was the Tent of Acceptance, where the private portion of the ceremony would take place.

When mother and daughter arrived at the marble gate leading to the altar, Blanchefleur stopped and kissed Alice's forehead. “May the mother of all the earth be with you, my child,” she whispered into Alice's ear. “You are so young to be undertaking this journey. I wish you well. Are you certain this is what you want?”

“I am.”

“You know you can change your mind without shame. It's the law.”

“I love you, Mother. I'm doing what I wish to do. Don't worry, I'll do you credit yet. Someday you and the whole city will be proud of me.” Alice smiled at Blanchefleur, turned, and walked up the stone steps to the altar, where she stood calmly and confidently before the three women.

The nearest placed a hand on Alice's shoulder. “I, Eros, am
here to serve and love you. What is your wish?”

Alice knew the ceremony well. She was not supposed to answer until all three women had spoken their opening remarks.

The second of the women turned to her. The first woman's voice had had the quality of satin. This next was the voice of steel. It rang in Alice's ears with great assurance. “I, Frigga, am here to serve and watch over you. What is your wish?”

The third woman spoke with a voice that fluffed the hairs on the back of Alice's neck. It had a comforting quality to it. “I, Mab, am here to serve and guide you. What is your wish?”

Alice felt the pressure and the pleasure associated with knowing every eye in the room was now fixed on her. She waited as long as she could before beginning the slow rotation that would bring her around so that she was facing the huge crowd.

She allowed her eyes to scan the multitude of faces of the assembly before seeking out that of Blanchefleur, who was crying discretely and wiping away her tears with a silk handkerchief.

Alice waited until she was certain all eyes were on her. Then she began: “I come before you to offer the greatest gift of all. I come offering my body as a gift for the new one. I come requesting a gift from you all as well. I am asking you to entrust me with the task of bringing that new one into the world and guiding her in her search for the truths that we have been given by our mothers.”

The three holy women moved forward. Eros spoke for all of them. “It is for you to decide. Your gift is acceptable to all of us. We entrust you with the task.” Eros looked over the heads of the crowd. “Do all of you who gather here promise to do all you can to help this lone insider make her way through life?”

The crowd answered in unison, “We do.”

“Enter, then, Alice, and partake,” said Eros. She lifted a flap of the white silk tent and Alice stepped through. The three sacred women followed.

The conception ceremony was brief and efficient, and over far sooner than Alice had imagined. When they were finished, each of the three attendants spoke in turn the traditional words: “May you become one with all the mothers who have come here before you.”

Alice answered each with a sincere “thank you.”

Eros placed a blood-red sash over Alice's left shoulder, and then led her back outside the diaphanous walls of the tent.

As they emerged, the organ filled the hall with jarring bass notes and then dropped to a softer background as the crowd began to sing “The Mother of the Earth is Good.” Alice led her glorious procession to the rear of the great temple and out the great temple doors.

Outside, to the delight of the ordinary citizens of Aahimsa, Alice climbed back aboard her coach and rode triumphantly along the path to the manor home, radiant in her new status as a mother-to-be.