Kaelan stepped back, her head cocked at a peculiar angle to mask the throbbing of her toes. "So, if I prove her lucidity she'll be welcomed?"

"Yes." The clan leader folded her arms across her chest.

"Then that's what I'll do."

"What?" Recca's arms fell limp by her sides.

"I'll teach her to read."

"How?" inquired Larkette, the youth instructor, from her place near the fire. "I'm sure she's never seen a scroll and hasn't any concept of reading. How are you going to teach Taelach language and morals without violating the contact laws?"

"It's simple." Jewel drew up on her knees to make herself more visible. "We teach her the same way we teach any other child-by primer scrolls, slate board and the morality fables."

Recca's stance began to soften. She was still unsure, but with Jewel's gentle persuasion, she listened. "You're going to teach her the signs and pronunciation of a language she's never heard?"

"We start with Aut letters and go from there." Jewel settled back as Kaelan rejoined her on their mat. "If she can speak Autlach, she can learn to read it and if she can read Autlach-"

"She can learn to phonetically speak our language and recognize our symbols." Recca nodded. "Kaelan, you wanted this, it's your project. Larkette will supply you with whatever you need. But this mustn't interfere with your daily duties. We need your pottery for winter stores. Educating a misplaced sister comes a distant second to the immediate needs of the clan, and as you said she appeared to be in a safe place-"

"Thank you, Recca."

Recca crossed the sands to bend close, her age-streaked life braid taking a parting swing between Kaelan and Jewel. "Be certain of this lost child's sanity before you adopt her. Don't bring a lunatic into my fold. And, next time, my friends," she said in a low, amused tone, "don't be so eager to step on my toes. Especially you, Kae. Those big feet of yours are too easy a target." She rewarded them with one of her seldom-seen smiles then turned back to the fire. "On to other business. A team has been dispatched to Zeilin Glen. Who's up for the next addition?" A young couple to Kaelan's left held their arms high. "Are you ready for the child?" One of the pair held up a near-finished swaddling blanket. "You ready for the flaming insults of a labored Autlach woman?" Their expressions became clouded.

"Who is?" Recca's gentlewoman, Ashklara, spoke up, her mothering tone calming the expectant raisers' frazzled nerves. "We all know what it's like. You have to tune the words out, because that is all they are, words." Ashklara spoke from experience. She had been the clan's lead birther until ill health had forced her to relinquish the title to Jewel. Her skilled hands had brought a good portion of those present into the world. "And don't let the mother convince you that you're robbing her of her child. The baby will be no more than a disposable burden, something to free herself of as soon as possible. Why most of them fight so hard, we'll never understand." Ashklara shifted in her skid chair and leaned a little toward the fire as her pale face searched for recognition. "We must endure the bad along with the good, mustn't we, Recca?"

"Most definitely." Recca placed a hand on Ashklara's thin shoulder, careful not to squeeze into her flesh the half-heart pin, which Recca wore the other half of as a cloak clasp. Ashklara had fallen victim to a long-term wasting disease that had destroyed her muscle and bone structure. She'd become a twisted form, slow and pained in movement but far wiser than her midnight blue eyes reflected. Recca looked after her as much as her duties permitted but always stayed close enough to phase away the agony at regular intervals.

"Ashklara speaks the truth as always," she said. "Birthings are never easy for any concerned. But as long as the child is healthy and the mother safely returned, it is well worth the effort." Recca pushed her mate's skid chair a little closer to the fire and tucked the blanket around her frail legs. "Jewel, who is your second tonight?"

"Wikkib, I believe." Jewel yawned. "On that note, I'm going to rest while I can. Wikkib?" She turned to her young assistant. "You'd best, too. If this mother is a first timer her labor could take days."

"A good thought for all those in skirts." Recca's slight bow meant dismissal. "There are broadback matters yet to discuss-"

"Like they won't know as soon as we crawl in the bed with them," sniped one of those remaining seated. "They tend to withhold themselves when we don't share the knowledge."

"Share and share alike." Ashklara's comment prompted a laughing chorus from the gentlewomen. "We have to even the odds some way or another."

Recca's expression grew exasperated. "When gentlewomen defend the clan they can be present for briefings. Until such a time"-she pointed to the main cavern's rocky entrance-"they should do as I request. They will, after all, hear what went on soon enough."

As Recca was not to be disobeyed, the gentlewomen retreated to their quarters, two of them pulling Ashklara's skid. When the last of their lanterns had faded Recca reached into a rolled mat and produced two bulging wine skins.

"Throw out the tea in your cups, my sisters. We have finer things to wash down our dinner." She passed the first skin to all who remained then Recca indulged in a second cupful. "To Serpent might!" She held the cup high in salute.

"To Serpent strength!" came the customary reply.

"Serpent strength? Serpent might?" mumbled Jewel as she peeked in on Myrla. "I suppose they believe we never hear their preposterous battle calls. If they only knew how Aut it made them sound." She flipped out the double sleeping roll and tossed the pillows to the open end. "But Klara's right, we'll know what they're discussing soon enough." She hung her skirts on a wall hook, draped her tunic over top, said her evening prayers, then slid into the coolness of the summer bedding before turning down the lantern. With the fold doors closed, the outside voices were muddled to the point she couldn't distinguish one from the other. The drone proved lulling and she slept, unaware of Kaelan's presence until she pulled close in bed.

"Jewel?" Kaelan tickled Jewel's nose with her life-braid. "Jewel?" Her second call drew out to a wine-tipsy extreme.

"Kaelan, you're lit!" Jewel brushed the braid from her face and sat up. "And you've been smoking pilta as well. That was the business tonight? Wine and smoke?"

"You betcha. Come back here." Kaelan jerked her back into the blankets and wrapped them tight so she couldn't escape again. "Broadbacks work hard." Her whisper brought goose bumps to Jewel's neck. "We deserve a bit of wine now and then. It's good for the soul."

"I'll remind you in the morning." Jewel struggled to free herself. "Let go, Kae. You're smothering me."

"Sorry, love." Kaelan hiccupped as she untwisted the bedding.

"Shhh." Jewel placed her hand over Kaelan's mouth, which now rolled into a grin. "You'll wake Myrla."

Hiccup. "Wouldn't want that now, would we?"

Jewel couldn't help but laugh. "What am I going to do with you?"

"Love me?" Another hiccup.

"I already do that. I meant your 'cups. You're bouncing across the floor. Much more and you'll be out in the corridor."

Kaelan let out a drunken chuckle and pulled Jewel on top of her, the phase she offered gentle though uneven because of the wine. Perhaps you should weigh me down so I don't bounce away. Hiccup.

Jewel kissed her mouth, sharing the wine that lingered on Kaelan's lips. Tell me what you discussed before you even think of doing that.

Kaelan jerked from another hiccup. "Please, Jewel. There's nothing to tell. The boundary line between the Tekkroon clan and us remains stable. The Autlach aren't an immediate threat. Things are good for the moment."

"You sure there's nothing more?" Jewel removed her headscarf and shook out the shoulder length waves Kaelan had long admired.

"Positive." Kaelan reached a hand to her lover's face. "The only thing on my mind right now is you." Hiccup. "Damn, I thought those were gone."

"Hold your breath." Jewel watched Kaelan draw a heavy breath that puffed her cheeks. "You're not keeping something back, are you?" Her minuscule picking phase did little but share Kaelan's drunken sensation, spreading her hiccups. Now look what you've done. I've got the infernal things, too.

Serves you right. You know I wouldn't hold back. My hiccups are gone. Hold your air. That's it.

Jewel collapsed into Kaelan's arms as she exhaled. I'm sorry. Picking wasn't called for. It's just that there are so many rumors of us moving to higher ground, further back in the hills. Leenzalia said she heard Recca was sending a crew to the secondary volcano bowl to survey for possible habitation.

She's planning it. Kaelan lowered her to the tangled blankets and ran a fingertip path down her abdomen, enjoying Jewel's wriggling response. It's a perfect spot, a natural fortress. Near the Tekkroon but not on their lands. Plans are to move next spring, if all goes well. Her fingers found their way across the Jewel's curving chin and mouth, running inside the edge of her full lips. Jewel sighed and swatted the hand away.

Another migration? I thought we'd found a permanent home here. How could the volcano bowl provide any more protection than where we are now?

Recca says it does, lover. She says there's a small valley we can farm and build in, walled on each side by the slopes so we'll be separate from the Tekks and protected from the winter winds. It sounds perfect. Kaelan's heavy phase disclosed her intentions for the evening. Tell me, Jewel of mine, tell me what you want.

You, Kae. You and only you. Jewel wrapped her arms around Kaelan's back and let simple pleasure take over. They breathed heavily, the crests of their phase bathing them both in summer night sweat. Their minds blended in the depths of the coupling, heightened only when Kaelan added her gentle physical attention. She caressed Jewel's stiffened nipples expertly, kneading them between her fingers until her lover squirmed under her, delighting Kaelan into extending the touch down Jewel's belly and thighs until they both became lost in the pleasure of their phases. Afterward, Kaelan lingered on top, hands on each side of Jewel's head. She drew a work-leathered hand over Jewel's face and returned her fingers to the inner edge of her lover's mouth. Jewel flicked her tongue across their tips.

"See what happens when you tell me your business?"

"Yeah," Kaelan popped the wet digits across Jewel's slender nose. "You get hot."

"Hot and informed," Jewel whispered. "A rather enlightening experience for us both, don't you think?"

Kaelan shook with amusement. "Jewel, you can be quite the fire mind when you want. No wonder I stay so smitten with you." She pulled up on her hands then settled close beside Jewel, wrapping their legs together. "You ready for sleep?"

"That's what I was doing until you stumbled into the bed." Jewel nuzzled into the muscle at the crest of Kaelan's shoulder. She smelled of potting mud, fire and sweat, a not unpleasant smell and one Jewel had come to know as uniquely Kaelan. "What of the misplaced sister? What happens to her when we move?"

"She'll either be part of the clan or be left behind," Kaelan replied with a yawn. "I've a lot of work to do with her." She kissed the middle of Jewel's white on white head. "Sleep. The team will soon be back."

"Yes, Kae." Jewel had just drifted off when a light rap sounded on the folding door.

"Sister Jewel?" Wikkib's low drawl just penetrated the wooden slats.

"I'm up. The team back?"

"Yes, their cargo is awake and fighting her restraints something fierce. She's so young." Wikkib sounded nervous. The young ones were the hardest for her to handle. She found their hysterics pointless, often making her short with them. "She's younger than Myrla, and she's terrified. We'll have to phase her out again to induce her labor."

"All right, I'll be there in a moment." Wikkib's steps shuffled away, fading toward the main cavern entrance. "Kaelan dearest, the team's back."

"I heard. Do you need help calming her? My Aut's almost as good as yours."

"I'm sure it's nothing we can't handle." Jewel ran her fingers through her lover's short curls then rose from the bed, pulling on her clothes and retying her headscarf. "Tend to Myrla if I'm not back by first light?"

"Of course." Kaelan sounded almost insulted by the reminder. "She's going straight to the bathing pool after breakfast."

"You, too. There's glassing sand in your hair again. Be sure to shake out the furs when you get up." Jewel nabbed her slippers and parted the door. The cries of the Autlach mother pierced the thick night air.

"Another loud one. Must she wail?"

"She's scared," mumbled Kaelan. "Birthing hurts."

"She's not laboring. What we're hearing is nothing more than hysteria. If she's as young as Wikkib says, this could be a long one." She let a resigned sigh and slid the partition shut. "Kaelan?" Her tired alto slid under the door folds.

"Yeah?"

"Make Myrla recite her history to you before her exam."

"Sure. Love you."

"You, too." Jewel's light footfalls drifted away.

Kaelan pulled the blankets to her chin then rolled on her side. "History? It would have to be my weak spot." She lay in the stillness, listening for and hearing the soft sounds of her daughter's slumber. A younger girl birthing? That couldn't be a good thing. Why, the body wasn't mature yet, not to mention the mind. How was a half-grown girl supposed to handle a baby of her own? Kaelan's mind named the difficulties as she nodded in and out. Her head ached from the wine, ached until it made her sick. Poor little girl, not yet grown, giving birth to a child she's not to have. Scared out of her wits and in the presence of strangers. Jewel knows what to do. She'll calm her, care for her. It's her nature as a birther. She knows best, she... Kaelan began to snore, her alcohol torpor unaffected by the occasional cries of the young mother. One became accustomed to it. It was part of the Taelach existence.

Chapter Four.

Learning requires emotion.

-Observer of a misplaced sister Dawn had yet to reveal its face when the bell behind the smoker shed sounded. Rankil thought it part of some wishful dream until Granny Terry roused her with a poke of her cane. "Rankil, the bell. Dress and go see what they've left."

Still tying her waist lacings, Rankil scurried out the door and through the garden, the grass lapping cold at her toes. Yawning, she leaned against the shed's splintering outer wall and opened the box, crying with joy when she saw the contents. Kaelan had left three bulging sacks, each a wealth of Taelach information. Rankil hefted the sacks over one shoulder with an easy toss then turned toward where she believed the giver might hide. "Thank you!" she cried in Autlach, then hurried back to the house and Terry.

Once Kaelan was certain Rankil was inside, she made her way to the garden and began staking the hide markers that were to be Rankil's first lessons. "The girl is stout," she mumbled while setting the markers. "Grabbed up those bags like they were empty. She'll be a formidable opponent by the time she's through growing. Might be a proper beau for Myrla by that time, too." Tempted as she was to observe Rankil's excitement, Kaelan returned to her mount. Clan duty called. There were a number of store pots to be fired before summer's end and, after all, she had promised Recca.

Kathump! Granny Terry jumped when Rankil dropped the sacks onto the table. "Gracious! Did they leave an entire side of beast?"

"No, Granny Terry, three sacks for you. THREE!"

"You mean for you."

"For me?" Rankil picked at the complicated knot at the top of one. "And they're marked with some kind of odd symbols. I'm having trouble with the ... okay, there it is." She spilled the contents across the table.

Terry placed the kettle to heat then drew her rocker close. "Tell me what you've found."

Rankil scrubbed the sleep from her eyes. "There's so much I don't know where to start."

"Try the beginning." Terry chuckled. "Pick up something and describe it to me."

"Yes, Granny Terry." Rankil untied the first cloth-wrapped bundle, revealing chalk sticks and a small slate, similar to the one Rankil had seen her father use for crop tallies. "A reusable scribe board, Granny."

"What an unusual gift. What else is there?"

Rankil gasped when the wrapping fell away from the second sizable bundle. "New clothes. Skirts with attached leggings." She passed both sets to Terry who smiled.

"I'm glad to see I wasn't the only one upset by your raggedness."

"Matching tunics, too." Rankil placed these in her lap as well, drawing the old woman's fingertips across the fronts. "Feel. They've piping at the collar and cuff."

"So they do." Terry nodded. "These new things mean we can use the green fabric for the finery it was meant for." She placed the garments on the bench. "Now, I know there is more than that in three sacks. What other treasures have your people left for you?"

Rankil remained silent as she unwrapped the next bundle. Not all the gifts were intended exclusively for her. "Something for you, Granny." She draped a fringed shawl over her grandmother's sloping shoulders. "However do they tat such patterns?"

"I wish I knew." Terry's face shone thanks for the unexpected kindness. She held the fringe to her face. "How does it look on me?"

"Pretty."

Terry blushed. "I always wanted a Taelach shawl." She settled back into her seat, rocking as she drew it across her shoulders. "But only the finest ladies can afford them. And the fact this one came by honest means makes it all the more special."

"You deserve it." Rankil turned back to the sack. The bottom contained a sleeping roll. The inside liner was of the softest fur and the top blankets protected by a water repellant hide coverlet.

"Why would they give me this?" Rankil placed the end in Terry's lap.

"They'd no idea what you did and didn't have so they've made certain all your needs are met." Terry stroked the liner's inner corner. "Letcher bear fur. And it's been cured free of stench. Just as well they gave this. I'd been wondering how we were going to handle the winter with the blankets we have." The kettle began to whistle. "Tell me what else you find as I cook." She shuffled to the fireside, pushed the kettle's rod from the flame and began heating the previous day's roast drippings for gravy.

"You need me to milk the nassie?" Rankil hoped the chore had already been done. There was so much here just for her, and she had just begun. She'd never dreamed of such luxury. Why, she was rich!

"The bucket's on the porch. There's enough in it for morn sup. You can finish up after we eat. I stopped when I heard the bell." Rankil brought in the bucket then dove into the second sack. Another blanket roll lay at the top.

"They sent a roll for you, too, Granny." Rankil left the bedding tied and reached back into the bag. "What the-" She pulled out a light wooden case with a beautifully carved top. The lid was hinged with brass and key locked, the bone key hanging from a string wedged into the top. The lid creaked as she folded it back. "Granny!"