Evesdropping.

They had finally surfaced from the confines of their wagons. Actually, she had surfaced first, leaving Ba'atar and the baby snuggled up in the furs, sleeping. She had spent some time treating herself to a nice long bath in a tub of water laced with oils. Every woman deserved just a little bit of time to herself from time to time, even Tuchuk women.


Returning to the wagon, she found Ba'atar sitting up in the middle of the furs with both boys, talking to them.. Standing outside on the platform, she listened for a time as he explained to them about their people, and how lucky they were to be born among the tribe, and what a good life awaited each of them.


She felt almost guilty standing there listening, but she just could not find it within herself to either go in, or to leave. Her heart ached when she heard Tug ask him if he was his Papa now, like Papa Loch had been. Ba'atar answered yes, that he was his Father now. The next question from Tug, turned that ache into true pain. In that simple way that a child has, he asked.............When are you gonna leave us? She almost burst through that flap to gather her son into her arms to try and take away the fear she heard in his voice, but she didn't. She didn't, because when Ba'atar spoke, there was a gentleness in his voice that took her breath away.


"I am not the one that Fathered you, or Another One. Each of you had Warriors, who in loving your mother and wanting to see the Tribe proved with great Warriors in the future, as they were, helped create you. In doing so, I was given the gift of two wonderful sons that I could spend my life trying to give the best to these gifts. For that I thank those men whose blood runs in your veins. I may not be a Father of your flesh, but I am the Father of both of you in heart. Know you both are blessed. So many who will touch you with history greater then any other. Now its time to embrace such. I have so much to teach both of you. "Ba'atar would lift One's chin to see eye to eye. Giving a smirk before speaking."No more of this 'Papa' either. Your a man, first of the first in these wagons. Father is a word of respect and pride. Save the silly talk for the Wench. You know they like that, bet it will get you another honey cake"

Tug looks up at him, gets a serious look on his face and says. "Yes Father." He then grins. "But, I can use it with the wenches when I want something, right?" A hearty laugh came from the interior of the wagon.


Quietly she slipped from the platform, to find a place to be alone for a time, to gather her emotions back inside, and to think. She was blessed. There had been times when she had cursed the skies, but she realized now, that she was a woman truly blessed. She had been given the love of three fine warriors, very few women have been blessed in this manner. And, she loved each of them. Tayco, Loch, and now Ba'atar. Each had a place in her heart, and always would.

Love Becoming Stronger and Stronger

Sometimes their relationship was like watching a feather on the winds. Up, down, swirling around, landing for a moment, then taking off on a different tangent. But all in all, it grew stronger, more intimate.


She had been sitting at the stream, the baby in the basket beside her, with her legs pulled up, arms around them, hugging them and just enjoying the quiet and the night. And then suddenly, he was behind her, the strong arms encircling her as he kissed the back of her neck, her ear, then her cheek. How could a woman not smile at that. For a time they simply sat, talking of their day. His had been busy with he herds, hers' had been spent around the wagons, rearranging things, doing that nesting thing again.


He allowed that he had finally had time to take a look at the kaiila herd, and had not realized until then how many she had. Now, what did he expect from a woman that bred and raised kaiila? She told him that they needed to find one to breed with his mare Tone. His concern was having one to ride while the mare was with foal, and she told him that he should pick a few mounts out to train to his liking. Just the simple things that mates spoke of.


She told him that she planned to ride out with Rook to see if the hives were in the same place, and was immediately inundated with questions. How far was it? Where was it? How long would they be gone? When would they return. She tried to ally his concerns as best she could. This was a new thing for her, never had Tayco or Loch questioned her daily meanderings. She knew that having a mate was new to Ba'atar, and that hopefully he would be able to relax about her daily duties and chores and where they would take her.

Their conversation turned to Ogadai, his next younger brother, who was about to take a mate. She teased him that it was going to be a sad thing if Ogadai and his new woman were the ones that might give Aamon and Birrmah their first blood grandson. Clearly, that thought had never entered her mates mind, which made her laugh softly. He said that was not going to happen, and that they would make sure that it didn't. He then asked her, how she would know if she was with child. For some reason, this surprised her. This was a man that had eight younger brothers, so evidently he had seen his other pregnant many times. He shrugged, and said they knew she was pregnant when she began to get thick. She assured him, that as soon as she knew, he would know.


Now, for some reason, this thought of not presenting his parents with their first grandchild became a bit of a burr under his proverbial saddle, and he announced that they would have to try harder. Try harder? If they tried any more than they already did, they just might die from exhaustion.


But try they did. All through that night, and through most of the next day. It was actually a magical time. They made love, napped, roused back to wakefulness, made love, talked, exploring each others bodies, and minds. There was just something about how he seemed to be fascinated by her body, especially her neck, that seemed to be his favorite place to nuzzle, a place to whisper words into her flesh, as if it would soak it up and carry them to her brain, and to be honest, it seemed to do such.


Laying there, snuggled tightly against his body, savoring the gentle tracings of the calloused fingertips along her flesh, most often elicited sighs of happiness and contentment from her. The heat of his breath, the timbre of his voice in her ear, was how she learned more about him, and the love deepened.


When he had claimed her, in many ways it had shocked her. Not that it angered or upset her, it was just surprising. He was a man, he took what he wanted, and she respected that. Did she love him at first? Yes, but not to the depths that she did now. Each day she took a new pleasure in their life together, found a new facet to the man, and fell more and more in love.


This man loved and treasured her, made promises to always provide for and protect her, to defend her and love her. They talked of the boys, and of the children in their future. And that was what they talked quite a bit about. They talked about raising their children in the ways of their people. Of having strong sons to strengthen their people, and maybe a lovely daughter or two thrown in for good measure.


Yes, they spent that day, planning for their future, and working on it. Skies! It was amazing.

Of Mates, and Slaves.........and Keeping Them Apart

She managed to get Tug out of the water, the stringer of fish gathered up, and the whole bunch moved back to the wagons. Rook took charge of Tug and the fist, and she tried to get a handle on what was going on with the girls.


She had noticed the welts on their flesh on the walk back to the wagon, and instructed them to get salve from the supply wagon and to take care of those while she fed and got the baby down for a nap. Birmmah was still at her wagons, and gave a disapproving sniff. She was trying and trying to get along with the women, but right now, this was a problem at her own wagons, and she really did not need the woman's input. Thanking her for all her help, she gently urged her away, telling her that she was certain that Aamon and her other sons needed her too. Finally the woman left, and she was able to get the baby down.


When everything was settled down, she parked herself on the platform of a wagon and called the girls to her. The crying had stopped, but the two sets of eyes were red and puffy as they knelt on the ground, heads lowered as they stared at the grass. This was all upsetting to her. Never once had she had any problems with these two, and it amazed her that anyone else would.


She mustered up a firm tone and asked what was going on. As was usual, it was juneau that did the talking. It seemed that they had angered him, angered him badly, so badly, he had beaten them, then had used them down by the stream. Thank the skies that she and Tug had missed that. She probed them to find out how they had angered him. According to juneau, it was mostly just because they were there. Her brow arched at that, and she said there had to be more than that. It was kasra that whispered that part of it was because there was a wrinkle on his leathers. A wrinkle, a big wrinkle? No, a tiny little wrinkle, right at the knee, but it was enough to make him angry. She then admitted to bumping into him, splashing Mr. Rook's tea on him.


Listening to all of this, her brow furrows. She can remember one conversation with Ba'atar, long before the subject of mating came up, about her slaves, and the fact that his mother never needed slaves. If his mother could raise nine sons without slaves, why were they needed? This was something that he was going to have to understand. From what she had seen, his mother did nothing other than take care of her wagons, she did not seem to be active in a clan. She was different, she not only had her family, but she also had her clan work, which was very important to her, and the girls gave her the freedom to do that work by taking care of the trivial things around the wagons.


It was kasra that began to sob again, begging her to sell them. Sell them? This was not happening. It seems that the two girls had come to the opinion that if the Master hated them, that hate would spill over onto their Mistress, and they both adored her and did not wish to be the cause of any tension. A sigh came from her as she listened to this. She then told them to go about their normal duties, that no one was getting sold. But she did caution, that when Master Ba'atar returned home each evening, they were to stay away from him, to stay out of his sight, until he left for patrol each morning. This should help somewhat.


As for the wrinkle in his leathers, was he going to beat her when he found out she was the one that had done the laundry? Shooing the girls away, she sat there thinking on it all, trying to come up with some sort of solution to what was now a problem, that she did not know was a problem.

Fishing, Talking, Loving--All in a days work for a Mother.

The morning meal was made and left for Ba'atar, with the girls there to serve it. She was needed at he pens, as a mare was having a difficult time foaling. With the baby in it's basket, she carried him with her, and kept him nearby as she oversaw the foaling. It felt good to be back to her work. At one point, she caught Ciegue from the corner of her eye giving a look to the squirming creature in the basket.


After the foaling was done, she took the baby from the basket and leaned against a fence post until Ciegue approached. Extending his head, he sniffed, nostrils quivering, then he snorted. This was something new to him, something that maybe he did not understand. Some might think her foolish, but she spoke to him softly telling him about the baby, letting him get accustomed to it under his own terms. Eventually, his neck stretched again, the massive head approaching the baby, who he nuzzled gently, then she felt he warmth of his breath on her own cheek, which caused her to smile.


Leaving the pens behind her, she had an idea formulated in her head for some time to spend with Tug. Arriving at the wagons, there was no one there but Rook and Tug, not a sign of her girls, which puzzled her. Little thought was given to it, for they tended to keep busy. Birmmah came strolling up with her perpetual offer of help. There was actually nothing for her to do, but she set to re-doing things. It was irritating, and getting more so every day, but she said nothing. Instead she turned to Tug, and told him that they were going fishing. He jumped up and ran to his wagons squealing...........I gots worms!


Laughing, she gathered up her tackle, packed them a meal, and when he returned they walked to the stream to find a good spot. It took some time to find one, to get the baby settled and their hooks in the water. It was a good time for fishing, they were spawning and hungry. Several of the ones they caught were egg-filled females which were a bonus. They shared the meal talking about many things. Tug was fascinated by the baby, but did not exactly understand why he could not have part of the bosk and bread they were eating. She explained that he had no teeth yet, but he would eat plenty of bosk when he did.


After eating, Tug sat down beside her, and snuggled into her side like he had not done in awhile. All of that love that a mother has for her child flowed through her. He asked if she still loved him? Ok, this caught her off-guard. Looking down at him, there was concern in her eyes. Why would she not love him? He thought the new baby may have taken his place. Time was spent explaining to him that there was nothing that he could do that would make her love him any less. It was probably a natural thing, but it did disturb her, and she made a vow to herself to spend more time with him.


They pulled in their lines and she allowed him to go swimming, keeping a very close eye on him. As she watched, she thought about Tayco and Loch and the two boys. She also thought of Ba'atar and how good he was with them. Her life was good, for the most part. She even pushed the sadness and confusion of some of the most recent events from her mind, and just enjoyed this beautiful spring day with her sons.


Or she enjoyed until her girls came stumbling along the stream, clinging to each other and crying. Skies, what was wrong with them, this was not like them at all. They both fell to their knees, sobbing and begging her forgiveness? What the.............?

A New Morning, Hopefully a Fresh Start

She was up long before the first rays of the Central Fire began to light the horizon. This was the day that she intended to assert her place in her wagons. The baby was fed, settled into his basket and carried out so she could keep an eye on him.


The night before, she had made the dough for bread, and left it to rise. Kneading it, she shaped the rounds and put them on to bake. One of her most prized possessions was her oven made from aged, fired bricks of mud. Her mother had taught her how to make it, and had actually helped her to make her very first one. Each time they moved, it was dismantled, then when they reached a point where they would stay for more than just one night, it was carefully re-constructed and a fresh coating of mud smeared over the dome, heated until it dried hard, then it was ready to cook in. A fire was built and allowed to burn down to coals, then the cooking began. She used it for making, and for also slowly cooking less tender meats. This morning, it would be used for making bread. Soon the entire area began to smell of the yeasty loaves.


As the bread baked, she carefully sliced a tabuk roast very thin, then mixed the slices with a variety of spices that she used sparingly. Soon she would hope the merchants caravan would come near so that she could trade for more. She would use a knife, cut the center from one of the loaves, stuff it with the meats then wrap it. By the time he was ready to eat it, the juices would have flavored the bread.


She next set to making some of her honey cakes. On a whim, she shaped these into small facsimiles of hearts,then slid them into the oven with the bread. After theyh cooled, they would be wrapped, placed into his bags with small crocks of fresh bosk butter and more honey. The bags were packed carefully, and with a great deal of love. Her mother used to say that work, was love made visible, and he would be able to tell that she had put a lot of thought and work into his meal. Hanging the saddle bags back on the peg, she hung two botas of fresh water. Patrol could be a thirsty thing, and Ba'atar did enjoy his water.


Her next endeavor was their morning meal. Tarsk strips were fried, then vulo eggs were scrambled with small bits of cheese in them, and made creamier by the addition of a few dollops of cream. Blackwine was brewed, and one of the loaves of fresh bread sliced, buttered, drizzled with honey and arranged on a plate. Tug came crawling out of his wagon, rubbing his eyes, and announcing that something smelled good. She had just gotten him settled down with his meal and his mug of milk, when she looked up to see Birmmah approaching.


A bright smile lifted to her lips as she greeted her. "Tal mother of my mate. Please sit, let me get you a mug of blackwine." The woman looked around, a brow lifting seeing the meal that was set out. She said she would pack Ba'atar's bags. She smiled at her. "They are already paced and hanging on the peg, along with his water." That brow arched higher. She walked around, almost as if she were inspecting the immediate area, making sure it was neat, tidy and nothing was in need of her attention.


Stopping at the oven, her head tilted as she studied it. "What is this?" Cana moved over beside her. "It is my oven. My mother helped me with the basic construction, and I find it invaluable for baking." The woman looked at her, then reached out to touch it gingerly, then looked puzzled. "The outside is not as hot as I would have thought." She explained to her that the outer layer of mud helped to keep it from getting too hot to the touch. After all, she would not want one of her sons getting burned by it. The woman made a simple statement. "I like it" Smiling, her arm goes out to hug the woman. "I tell you what. When I find the just right deposit of clay in the stream, we will start making bricks, and we will make you one." Birmmah looked at her again puzzled. "You would help me do this?" "Of course I will. Now come, sit and have some food."


Birmmah moved to lower down beside Tug, still looking around. "I will gather up the laundry today and do it" As she fixed the plate, she smiled over at her. "I did the laundry yesterday afternoon." Moving over to her, she extends the plate with one hand and a mug of blackwine with the other. "I am sure with Aamon and all of you other sons, that you have plenty to do. I feel badly that you have felt compelled to come here to take care of us. I promise that I will do a better job." The woman looks up to study her face as she takes the plate, but she says nothing, and began to eat. Stopping she looked back up. "This is very good, Cana. I did not know you could cook this well." Settling down beside her with her own mug, she smiles. "Birmmah, my mother died when I was barely twelve. I had five brothers, including a newborn one, and had to learn many things very quickly."


The woman continues to eat, seeming to enjoy the bread very much. When she had finished, she sat back with her mug, and studied this woman that was mated to her eldest son for a time. "I have been a little bossy, haven't I?" Now, how do you answer this. The woman had been a true pain in the arse, but you just cannot say that. Instead she simply smiles, reaches over to squeeze the older woman's hand. "Perhaps a bit, but I do understand it. You have taken care of Ba'atar all of his life, and now suddenly, here is this woman that you barely know, wanting to take that away from you. I do not wish to take your son from you, I only wish to share him with you if you will allow it." Her words were genuine, and honest. Birmmah nods slowly. "I think we can do that, and if you are seeing to the needs of Ba'atar, that will give me more time to spend with Aamon and my other sons." Cana cannot even begin to express how relieved she was at this, and leans to kiss the woman's cheek. "Yes you can, and maybe you can find the time to teach the mate of your eldest son how to sew a bit?" Well, the woman brightened right up. "You do not sew?" Shakes her head. "No, when my mother was trying to teach me, I was very young, and more interested in following my brothers around, so I never really learned. Perhaps we can start with small things, like repairing the holes in socks, or rips and rents in tunics or leathers?"


The woman seemed very pleased. "Daughter, by the time I am finished teaching you, you will be making all of your clothing." Cana groans inwardly, wondering just exactly what she had gotten herself into, but still smiles.


Ba'atar came out of the wagon, stretched then hopped to the ground and gives them that irrepressible grin that he has. "Wenches, I hope one of you have food for me." Laughing Cana gets up to go fix him a plate, and he settles down beside Tug, ruffling his hair,then leans across him to kiss his mother's cheek. Watching them she smiles then brings him his meal which he falls upon like he has not eaten in days. "Mother, I think these are the best eggs you have ever made." Birmmah looks to him, then to Cana, then back to him. "I did not make them, your mate did. Do you think I am going to cook for you all of your life?" He looks up, mid-chew, then shakes his head slighly. Birmmah leans to wipe a bit of tarsk from his chin then stands. "You have a mate to cook for you now, and that will give me more time to spoil your brothers and your father. I have a feeling she is going to take very good care of you." Walking over to Cana, she kisses her forehead and whispers. "I will see you later daughter" With that she moves off down the row of wagons, stopping once more to admire the oven briefly.


Ba'atar looks up to Cana. "Well, I hope she packed my saddle bags before she got so huffy." Laughing, she shakes her head. "No my heart, I packed them. Tabuk stuffed inside bread, honey cakes with butter and honey to put on them, and two botas of fresh water." He looked a bit surprised,then grins. Lifting his hand, he crooks a finger to motion her closer. Moving to him, she settles down beside him. He gulps down the last few bites, then reaches over to grasp her waist and pull her into his lap, nuzzling her ear, and whispers. "Good, and tonight you will fix me a nice meal,for I have plans for us that will require much strength." Settling into his lap, she was laughing, then leans to kiss that little area just behind his ear and whispers. "I look forward to it, my strong, handsome warrior."


Yes, it was a good morning.

Family

The baby was finally fed and settled down for the night, Ba'atar was still on patrol and she had spent some time with Tug, telling him a story. Now, she was taking some time for herself.


Sitting on the platform of her wagon, she was drinking a mug of tea and watching the skies, thinking about how truly happy she was. Trilok had told her earlier that she looked happy and at peace with her life. There was no better way to say it than how he did.


Her wish now was for him to find that contentment that she had found. He loved Noya so much, and she was touched to hear him speak about her as he did. Few men would voice how much they longed to just watch a woman sleep. She truly hoped that soon, Noya would decide it was time to become his mate. In her heart, she cannot think of a more perfect man for the woman than her nephew. There was this think about her family, they did not do things in a small manner. When they loved, they loved completely and with great passion and loyalty. It is what they saw growing up, and it was a good way to be, as far as she was concerned.


During her visit with her nephew, she found the opportunity to tell him how proud she was of the man he had grown into, and her words were true. His recent ordeal had brought him a long way from being a youth, to being a man. There was no longer that naivete that he once had. He was more serious, and much wiser, which was good to see.


And he worried. It seemed he had a dream about a woman coming between her and Ba'atar. Not as a mate, but as something else. She had to laugh, and told him of Birrmah, and how she was having a few problems letting go of her eldest son. But she also assured Trilok, that things would work out. She was a patient woman, and things would be fine. But it did touch her that he had this concern for her.


As she sat there, her mind flows back to their childhood, of growing up, and how they tormented each other. When Rook walked up, she was laughing to herself about it all. When he lowered down beside her on the platform and asked what was so funny. She simply told him.......family. Family is always important. Especially a family tree that had strong roots. She had come from one of those, and fully intended to make that family stronger.

A Rocky Start to the Day

Some days are diamonds, some days are stones. Then there are those that just get off to a rocky start, like this one.


The baby was changed and fed, then lulled back to sleep before she stepped out to start her day. The first thing on her mind was to pack Ba'atar's saddlebags for his day on patrol. She was a bit chagrinned to find out his had already been done by his mother. Did the woman ever sleep? She added a few items of her own, mainly a couple of honey cakes that she had made the previous day, then hung them back up on the peg where he kept them. For the briefest of moments, she considered just putting a small piece of rence in them with a note on it, but she had no idea if he read or not. Probably not.


Going into the supply wagon, her intent was to fix herself a cup of tea. Or it would have been, had she been able to find the tea tin. Nothing was where she normally kept it, which caused her to grumble. Finally she stepped out onto the platform and called to juneau, asking her what had happened to the tea. The girl looked a bit nervous, then slipped past her into the wagon, rummaged around and pulled the tin from the back of the cupboard, and offered to make the tea for her. Why in the name of skies did you move it? The girl looked almost frightened and whispered softly that she did not move it, that Master Ba'atar's mother had rearranged the supply wagon. Her brow creased into a frown, but she says nothing more, just bids the girl to make her tea.


While the tea brewed, she had juneau to find her the side of smoked tarsk. She was slicing it, laying strips into a pan when Tug ran up, throwing his arms around her in a fierce hug. Picking him up,she grunted and told him that he was getting big, which delighted him to no end. He rubbed his belly and told her that because he "eated" good. She laughed and told him that his morning meal would be ready soon, and he could eat. Squirming, he told her that Birmmah had already fed him, and made him bathe. Skies, the Central Fire was barely over the horizon, and the woman had already fed her family then come here to cook? When did the woman sleep? Putting Tug down, he ran to Rook's wagon, poked his head in the flaps, then disappeared inside the wagon. All she could do was shake her head.


She went back to the tarsk strips. At the very least, she could make a meal for herself and Ba'atar. She was in the process of breaking vulo eggs into a bowl when Birmmah walked up, asking what she was doing. Looking up, she smiled and told her that she was making the morning meal for Ba'atar. The woman actually reached to take the eggs from her. I will make it. She came so very close to saying something, but didn't. There would have to be adjustments made. As much as she adored this woman, they were going to have to come to an understanding about something, but she just was not sure yet how to approach the subject, but it would come to her.


Ba'atar stepped out of the wagon, blinking at the light, then hopped off the platform, moved to kiss his mother's cheek, and grinned. Tarks and eggs, my favorite. Thank you wench for making it for me. She looked to the heavy tea mug in her hand, and couldn't decided if she wanted to throw it at Birmmah, or Ba'atar. Not able to make that decision, she simply leans against the wagon, and sips. She found a bit of amusement in it all. It seems that Birmmah is having time letting go of her eldest son. They would have to work on that.


Ba'atar came to wrap his arms around her, nuzzled her neck and whispered. Soon my fiery wench, you will learn my favorite foods. Was it bad form to knee your mate in the groin? Probably so. Returning his kiss, she smiles and says.........of course I will. He laughed, then spoke softly to her. But you do other things so very well. This was punctuated by a firm slap to her bottom. He released her then went to lower down to the furs, and his mother served him his meal.


As she watched, there was already a plan forming in her devious little mind. We will have to see if it works.

Together as One

She could have stayed there in his arms forever, wrapped in his love. But, the baby had other ideas. Kasra came to tap at the entrance to the wagon, with the fussing baby in her arms. Getting up with a small groan, she wraps a fur around her naked body and goes to take the baby from the slave, telling her to go get two botas of fresh water. In almost no time the girl was back with the botas, one which was hung on Ba'atar's side of the platform, the other, she thumbed the cork of then drank, slaking her own thirst. She made a mental note, that she would see that there was always a fresh bota of water hanging for him by the sleeping platform.


The baby rooted around, searching for a nipple. Laughing softly, she sat to the edge of the platform and put him to her breast. Leaning to kiss the top of his downy head, she watched as he suckled, noticing how one tiny fisted hand lay upon the top of her breast, then seeing that right beside where his hand lay, there was a spot on her flesh that was red, where another mouth had been earlier in the evening.


Glancing over to the sleeping Ba'atar, a smile lifted on those soft lips as the memories of the night swirled around her. It had been perfect, or maybe, if possible, beyond perfect. She could still feel each touch on her skin. The trace of fingers as they explored, the hot breath that came from his parted lips as he kissed almost every hort of her body. She can remember the look of wonder in the dark eyes as he stroked, and the love that was there when he looked into her eyes, the passion.

They had come together finally, after such a torturous wait, one that had plagued them both, and it was beautiful. Nothing was held back, they gave fully to each other, finding depths of passion and love that may have amazed them both. He had told her in the beginning that he had never been with a woman that was his, one that was not in a collar. When she asked later if it was different, she drew a laugh from him as he allowed that he had discovered that there was a huge difference between having sex with a slave, and making love to his woman, and he liked the latter better.

Something tells her that she surprised him. As he stroked her hair, he called her his fiery wench, and she laughed and told him that would be their secret. They had talked about children, their children. He told her he wanted many more sons to go with the two they already had. He does not know how that simply warms her heart and makes her love him more. To him, the boys are theirs. Not hers, not someone else's but theirs.


He rouses from his sleep, and asks in that low, gentle voice what she is doing, and she turns to show him the baby at her breast. One strong arm lifts to motion her closer and she moves up towards him, and he encircles her hip, lifting up to watch the baby nurse. Leaning in, he kisses the top of her breast, then the baby's head and lays back to watch them. Soon the baby was asleep, and she lowered back down placing him between her and Ba'atar, who reached out as if it were the most natural thing and pulls them both closer.


She told him that his water was by the furs and he sat up to drink, and gave her that grin of hers, telling her that if she kept making love to him as she had earlier, and brining him water, they he would be a happy man.


She has every intention of doing both, and much more. Settling back in beside him, she finally falls asleep, safe, secure, loved and happy.

It Was Time!

It was time. Time to become a mate, time to give herself to him fully. He did not realize that this period of waiting had been difficult for her too. She longed to feel him connected to her fully and completely. And besides, if he takes many more baths, his skin was going to fall off.


The day had been spent in preparation. The wagon was cleaned from stem to stern, furs beaten and aired, a special meal cooked by her own hands. Scented oils were heated in small pots over the brazier, everything was perfect. Well, almost everything.


Leaving the baby with kasra, it was juneau that she sent to the bath wagon to make the preparations, to heat the waters. Soon she joined her, carrying a small bundle. Stripping, she stepped into the heated waters and sank down slowly, savoring the feel of how they lapped along her skin releasing the tensions in her muscles. Hands caressed along her body, causing her to grumble about being fat. The girl looked at her, then frowned. Mistress, you are far from fat. You are beautiful, and your body has the curves of a woman, not of some silly girl. The Master is going to love it, trust me on this. Looking to the girl who had started to wash her hair for her, she smile then spoke softly.........I hope so. I hope so very much that he is not disappointed.


Her hair was washed, then rinsed, then sprinkled with scent. When the bath was over, she stepped out and allowed the girl to dry her off, then to rub her body down with scented oils. In the bundle was the dress that she had inherited from her mother. The one that she had told Fonce once, that she would wear on a special occasion. This was such an occasion. Juneau helped her to dress, then braided her hair for her. When she was finished, she stood back and smiled. You are beautiful my Mistress, absolutely beautiful. Smoothing her hands over the soft leather of the dress, the smile was returned, and she leaned to kiss the girl on the temple.


Stepping out of the wagon, she took a deep breath to calm the butterflies that were dancing around in her stomach, then stepped down and walked towards their wagon, with juneau trailing behind her. She was totally oblivious to the admiring glances that she drew, but juneau caught them. As she passed Rook's wagon, she did catch his look and smiled at him. He said nothing, but did give her an encouraging nod.


At their wagon, she check on the meal, making sure it was perfect. She then stepped inside to feed the baby, who would be taken to the wagon with Tug for the night. She knew that during the night, she would have to go and get him, feed him and get him settled down again, but he had reached the point where he was sleeping longer into the night, which was good.


Bathed, dressed, the baby fed, all she had to do now was wait, and ponder just exactly how you seduced a man. She had never done that before, did not think she would be very good at it, and hoped that Ba'atar would get the general idea when he saw her.


Yes, it was time, and she was ready. Past ready.

A New Nest, A New Life and Frustrations

Over the next moon or so, she found herself nesting, yet again. Ba'atar had her wagons moved with his. She had the feeling that he did not realize that she had so many, nor did he know that she had so many kaiila and bosk. It was just not something she spoke of to many. Much of it had come from Tayco, who had been a bit older when they had mated, more established. The wealth of wagons did not mean much to her. Truly, how many wagons did one woman need, after all? Ba'atar had decided which would be their sleeping wagon, which would be for the boys, which ones for his personal belongings and supplies, and right on down the line. Now, it was up to her to make that group of wagons a home for them all.


Birrmah was around quite a bit, and she found she enjoyed the woman's company, and even her suggestion as to how things should be done. She was not overbearing about it, but did offer gentle suggestions, most of which were incorporated into their daily routine, such as it was. It would have been a bit easier had they not been in the midst of the move, but they adjusted. She could not exactly figure out if the woman was around more to see that her eldest son was taken care of, or if she was around because of the baby. For whatever reason it was, her help was welcome, as was her company.


And Birrmah was not their only visitor. Aamon had taken to stopping around, especially at meal time, but that might have been because that was where his mate was, and thus, where his meal was. He too seemed to be developing an affection for the baby. But then who wouldn't? There was just something about a baby that seemed to draw people closer.


She had even awoke from a nap one day, to find that spot next to her where the child usually lay was empty and went into a panic for a brief moment. Stepping out onto the platform, she beheld something that she would never have expected. Rook was riding along beside her wagon with the bundled up baby in the crook of one arm. Her brow lifted and she just had to ask..........Rook, are you singing? All she got from him was a grunt, and he did not relinquish the child immediately, but rode along humming under his breath. Yes, babies had a way of bringing out something softer in even the gruffest of warriors.


Evenings had come to remind her of growing up at her family's wagons. Some nights the meal was had at their wagons, on others they would make the walk to the wagons of Ba'atar' parents and eat with them. There was much laughter, teasing and always music of some sort. She had even been pressed into playing her flute one evening. It seemed they all sang to a degree. Aamon had a rich bass voice, and sometimes when he sang she could almost feel it rumbling right down into the core of her being. When you added Ba'atar's baritone to it, the music was beautiful in the most simple ways. And it did not take the brothers long to decide she was truly a part of the family and they found great pleasure in teasing her, and she teased right back. It all became very dear to her, just as they all became dear to her.


But it was the nights that she found most peaceful. The nights when they would lay in the furs, speaking in soft whispers of their days. There were times that she felt guilty, for she would often fall asleep, lulled by the timbre of his voice speaking low into her ear. Sometimes secrets were share, and others it was simply a conversation about the ahn they were apart from each other. She grew to know things about him that gave her peace in her soul. The way he would talk about the simply flight of a bird in the skies, how he would describe a field of flowers that he had seen on patrol, or when he would bring back a small bouquet of those flowers for her.


She had grown to admire his patience. Somehow, each day he found time to spend with Tug. He would take him to the herds with him, or to the stream, or to see newborn calves, always explaining to the boy exactly what was going on, and how important the bosk were to them, how sacred they were. He had a small bola made for Tug and spent ahn patiently teaching him how to use it. She watched all these things, and began to see the bond between her new mate and her son grow daily, and she had to smile. Ba'atar was a good father, but then, he had a good father. Aamon had gained her respect, as had Birrmah. She loved them both a great deal.


But, where she truly appreciated Ba'atar's patience, was with her. You would be hard pressed to find a man that would take on a mate with two children, or a man that would take a mate and not consummate the relationship on that first night. She was not foolish, and knew that he spent time with slaves, but she could not fault him for that. And she knew he was frustrated, but what he did not know, is that so was she.


There were nights when she lay in the furs thinking about him, wanting him, knowing that he was with a slave somewhere. He did not know how badly this affected her, for she said nothing of it. She longed to be his in all ways, but the time was not right. But soon, very soon, the time would come.


But for now, she worked her frustrations away by making his wagons a home, but making sure he had meals, clean clothing, fresh water, and a smiling face to come home to. She was nesting............yet again. But this time, she had two little birds in that nest, her precious sons. And if the skies blessed her and Ba'atar, they would have to get a much bigger nest, for she intended to have many little birds.

Into a New Life

She had finally pushed the dreams, visions and fears away and struggled to sit up. Grasping kasra's arm she moans, but manages to bring herself up, rasping out........I cannot give birth lying down. Help me to my knees. This was kasra's first birthing. At the birth of little master Tug, she had been hiding outside on the platform, and she was terrified. Offering her shoulder, she motions to juneau to take the other side, and they help this woman they both worship to her knees, then into a squat.


The pains intensified, came quicker until the point it was one entire sensation of pain. Bearing down, it finally happens, the most intense of the pains and she screams.


When it was over, she fell back into the furs, panting with tears rolling down the sides of her face. Both girls were crying, along with her, both of them knowing they had just witnessed something amazing. It was kasra that had tenderly cleaned the baby off, wrapped it in a blanket then lay it to its' mothers arms. Her voice was almost reverent.........Mistress it is a boy. A beautiful, strong warrior for the people.


Exhausted, she cuddles the bundle closer to place soft kisses to the perfectly shaped little head, her heart filling with love. The long hours of pain were immediately forgotten as she holds and kisses him, tears of joy washing over him. Whispering, her first words to him are........Welcome to this world first son of Lochlan, your father cannot be here, but he is watching, and he is proud.


One of the girls told her that Rook and Ba'atar were waiting outside. She made herself as presentable as she could then told kasra to let them in. The elder warrior seemed satisfied that she was well,the baby was well. One gnarled hand reached out to first stroke her head, then to trace a finger along the baby's brow. When she looked up into that old face, giving him an exhausted smile he simply nodded and said that he would go pass the word that a son had been born.


As the old warrior stepped out, she saw Ba'atar step aside to allow him to go, then he stepped back to look inside. A multitude of emotions swirled around her as she watched him standing there framed by the entrance to her wagon, the lights from the lamps casting shadows along his features. She beckoned him closer, and at first he seemed reticent, but finally approached her and the baby. He lowered to the side of the sleeping platform and leaned in closer to see the child. Carefully she handed him the child to hold and quietly made a request of him. He looked at her and asked if she was sure, and she nodded.


Lifting up, he carried the babe out onto the platform and raised it high over his head, offering it to the skies for their blessings. Again tears pooled in her eyes as she watched. It just seemed so right. There was this moment of clarity and she knew. There was this moment, when he held the baby close to his chest in the most gentle and protective manner. Laying there, she watched as he held the baby, speaking softly to him, telling him of all the wonders of life that he planned to show him. It was at that moment, that any reservations that she might have had concerning her and Ba'atar, flew out between the flaps of that wagon, up into the skies to never be seen again.


In that moment, her heart was not filled with fears, sadness or misgivings. It was only filled with love. Love for this man who had pledged to take care of her and her sons. This man who promised to treat them as if they were his own, but to also teach them of their fathers, what brave warriors they were. Love for this man who had come to her in her time of need as a friend. A friend that was concerned for her. That friendship had grown through many late night talks of their people, of themselves. Their thoughts on the old ways were similar, and both had seemed pleased to find that in another. So were their thoughts on many children to be brought up in those traditional ways. It was a time of finding out how much they had in common, a time of becoming acquainted, of becoming friends.


The friendship had grown quickly, perhaps too quickly for some. When he had told her that he wanted her to be his, in some ways she was shocked, but not so much in others. And now, sharing this special moment together, she realized that no other would make her happy but him. Love had slipped in, made itself at home, and was there to dwell in her heart.


When he had come to lower down, to place the baby back into her embrace,he had leaned over, kissed her brow and told her that he was proud of her. Such simple words, but they meant so much. He made to leave, to allow her to rest and she looked up and spoke to him quietly. Stay. Those dark eyes watched her, and he asked if this meant she was ready, and she nodded. Nothing more needed to be said.


He lowered down onto the furs, reaching out to bring her and the baby into the protection of his arms. Quietly he whispered to her that the price would be paid to Trilock, but from this moment, she was his.


No other words were needed. They both knew this was their destiny......being together. As her eye grew heavy, she smiled, snuggled in closer with the baby, lifting one hand to softly stroke his scared cheek as she whispered. Good night my love.