sky and the world that was before fell apart, but our village still stood. Where others was swept away, our kin that then was living breasted that terrible tide and stood firm until it passed. If they hadn’t, we wouldn’t never of been born. We come of them that was strong enough to live when death was everywhere. We come of giants and heroes, breakers of trees and tamers of horses.”
There was a murmur from all around the gather-ground, of people saying “Yes!” and “Such they was!” Catrin stood and nodded, and held her peace until the murmur died away.
“So that’s how we know,” she says then, “what the future is going to be. We see it in the past. Beets don’t grow out of corn seed, nor a cow won’t come from a kitten. Well, it’s the same for us. For Mythen Rood. Coward women and weak men don’t come from Mythen Rood stock, for such things was bred out of us a long time ago. A long time.”
There was cheers at this point, long and loud. Athen and Mull joined in. I kept my counsel, and I seen my mother did too.
“So when I join these women with these men,” Catrin cried, lifting her voice, “I already know what’s gonna come of it. Blessings, is what. Newborns, is what. Babies that will live and grow and share in all the things we got. All the things we are.”
She touched the strap of the firethrower, as if she was reminding us how much of that “what we got and what we are” come from her and her kindred. There was more cheers, but not so loud.
“Because what we got, first and last, is each other,” Catrin finished.
She called the brides and men up into the tabernac, two by two. I barely knowed the first two, Issi Tiller and Grey Olso, and I didn’t know the second two at all. I don’t remember their names now neither, for I didn’t listen all that hard even while they was making their promises. I was too busy thinking how Catrin always saved her own for last, and how that seemed like a humble thing but was really the opposite. For what comes last is usually best, and is anyway best remembered.
Spinner and Haijon come up the steps, when everyone else had said their promises, and stood hand in hand facing Catrin. “Spinner Tanhide,” Catrin said, “what man is that your hand is holding?”
“It’s the man I mean to marry,” Spinner says.
“And what do you mean to do for him when you’re married?”
“To love him and cleave to him. To share his works and his bed, and hold him always foremost in my heart.”
“And these are your promises, that you give freely and fully?”
“That’s what they are.” Spinner give Haijon a smile, but he didn’t smile back. He was looking at her in a kind of wonder, like he didn’t believe the world had such a good thing in it and give it to him of all people. I reckon I would of looked about the same.
Catrin turned to him then and asked him the same question. “What woman is that your hand is holding?”
And right then, between her asking and him answering, the DreamSleeve come alive against my chest with a little buzz, like a bee catched in a bottle. Nobody heard it but me, but I heard it and felt it both, and gasped out loud at it. Jemiu turned to look at me, wondering what ailed me. I swiped at my neck, making like some bug had lit there.
“It’s the woman I mean to marry,” Haijon was saying.
“Well,” Monono said at the same time, just in my ear and no one else’s. “That was more of an adventure than I was looking for.”
There was something in her voice that struck me odd, but I did not give no thought to it in the wild joy that run through me. I couldn’t answer her, though I almost yelled out her name. The sound of her voice made my heart beat hard on the inside of my ribs. I didn’t think to hear it again, ever, but here she was. Home. Back inside the DreamSleeve where – I thought then, knowing no better – she belonged.
“And what do you mean to do for her when you’re married?” Catrin asked.
“To love her and cleave to her. To share her works and her bed, and hold her always foremost in my heart.”
“Oh really?” Monono