Chapter 12: Yet Another Mouth to Feed

By Summer’s end, the homestead had progressed to the point that they had far more food than they could store. This prompted Marcus to dig a root cellar directly into the terraced cliff behind the cabin. He had to carve his way past several enormous stones but was able to cut a tunnel far back into the earth. He reinforced the passageway with timbers and stone and fashioned a timber entrance with a thick door to seal it off. With the help of the wolf pack and many villagers, he was able to carve out a large room and install shelves for storing the vast quantities of vegetables and preserved meats they had accrued.

Lamenting his lack of horticulture knowledge, Marcus tried his best to plant apple and pear trees from his precious seeds. He was able to cultivate a small orchard near the cabin, across from the bathing area. 5 of the apple trees thrived and grew to nearly chest height. He was only able to produce two pear saplings. The plums required little coaching, and he was able to cultivate a dozen to grow. He allowed all of them to bud and flower but nipped the fruit before it could begin. As their leaves began to brown and fall, he carefully wrapped each sapling in wool and leather to protect it from the coming cold.

The piglets had grown quickly to the point that he grew concerned and reinforced the pen to prevent their escape. He had a male and a female, and as nature prompted—they multiplied with the female giving birth to 6 more piglets. After losing one of them to the aggressive male, they separated the two until the remaining five were old enough to wean and be kept secluded from the older pair.

Kuwali became too pregnant to help with the gardening but tried her best to help out with cooking cleaning and general upkeep. Eventually, even that became too much for her, and Marcus and Nita bullied her into bed where she remained much of the day. On any given day several villagers could be found around the homestead. The women helped with the harvest and preservation of the vegetables, taking enough back to the village for all, with the help of the carts Marcus fashioned for them. The warriors trained with him in several combat techniques and practiced the drills he taught them. Often several would stay overnight sleeping in the pavilion or one of the storage tents when the weather didn’t favor a long walk back up the river.

Marcus was stoking the coals of his forge and showing Hawk how to operate the large bellows when Ferret came racing down to the Smithy. “Cariba! Come quick!” he panted, waving his arms back towards the cabin. “Kuwali wet the bed and the women say it is time!” He had no idea what time it was that they meant.

Marcus stood tall and removed the piece of iron from the bed of coals before it grew too hot. Then he removed his leather apron and gloves, setting them aside. “Bank the coals and go find me two big trees like we talked about,” he said to the pair before heading up the path. He was planning a means of ferrying across the river, to begin using the other side. He wanted to set the poles for the pulleys on either bank before the freeze.

When he stepped into the cabin, he found several women gathered around a pale Kuwali, supporting her as she stood in an awkward crouching position. She was breathing heavily and moaning. Nita turned to him with a smile and beckoned him to exit the cabin with her.

“It is early yet, husband,” she explained, “Kuwali refuses to lay back down. She thinks this will draw the baby out sooner. The elder women agree.” She wrapped her arms around him in a warm embrace that he returned.

“Is there anything I can do?” he asked with concern in his voice.

She shook her head as she gazed up at him. “You have already done it, my love,” she replied. “This fine home, food, comfort, and safety. Husband, you have done very well for us. Now Kuwali is doing her part for you.” She released him and pushed him gently toward a pair of warriors who had come by to check-in. “Go now and worry not.” He let himself be drawn away by the sympathetic tribesmen. They tried to distract him as he slowly paced the compound and the garden terraces. Pepper walked calmly beside him with a slight limp. Skoll and Hati were off with the boys hunting or terrorizing the wildlife.

He stood at the edge of the top terrace, overlooking the wide river below, musing over the past as he absently scratched one of Pepper’s ears. Despite the distractions offered, he found himself dwelling upon Kuwali and her labor. He prayed all would go well as he moped about. Most of the cultivated fields were tall with winter wheat and barley. He intended to rotate crops next spring and expand his irrigation system to allow for a closer water source to his home and the animal pens.

His enormous red-furred companion never went far from his side ever since he began allowing her to take further and further walks with him. Marcus encouraged the two younger wolves to stay out with the boys during their ventures and taught Hawk, Badger, and Cougar how to command them and interpret their alert positions. Thus, the wolf pack was better protected and able to deal with trouble whenever they encountered it. And they found plenty. It became routine for them to return excitedly with news of yet another forest monster or a regrettable encounter with a porcupine. Once, they discovered a well-established bee’s nest (the hard way) and ended up providing the village and homestead with an abundant source of honey.

Marcus and several warriors were pulled aside for a rescue mission when the pack chanced upon a full-grown and irritable bull moose during rutting season. If it weren’t for the early warning from the two real wolves, the outcome might’ve been more dire. As it was, a badly shaken and humbled Hawk survived being treed for several hours while the remaining boys fled to a safe distance and kept the menacing beast distracted while Ferret and Mouse ran for help. Skoll suffered a minor concussion and wounded forepaw when he leaped upon the creature’s back only to be rudely swept off by the massive antlers. Hati lept in snarling and snapping while her sibling limped away to safety. A single shot from Marcus’ pistol sent the moose fleeing and the boys turned on him in outrage for intentionally missing. Marcus simply frowned at them all as he lifted Skoll over his head to carry him home across his broad shoulders.

A sudden gust of wind ruffled his mane and dark blonde beard, stirring him from his reflections. He glanced toward the sea and recognized the imminent storm that would fall upon them sometime after nightfall.

“Best head back to your homes lads,” he said to the two warriors, Okami and Tabo, as he nodded toward the darkening skies, “I suspect that mess will bring early snow.” They followed his gaze and frowned, shivering inwardly. They shared a hand clasp each and then parted ways. Marcus returned to the compound and went about inspecting tents and ropes, ensuring that everything was tidy and secure. He chuckled to himself as he found himself collecting firewood for the evening. The go-to task for all future fathers. He had built a lean-to next to the cabin to protect the wood from the elements and spent half an hour filling it before seeking another chore to busy himself. Later, as he was securing a tarp over the smokehouse and drying racks, Nita came to him quietly and laid a gentle hand upon his arm. He turned to find her smiling and his heart missed a beat as he gasped in relief.

“All is well?” he asked nervously.

“It is,” she replied, taking his hand. “Come, my love, and greet your daughter.”

A daughter! His spirit soared as she led him back to the cabin and inside. The subtle illumination from the lamps and candles seemed brighter compared to the darkening skies outside. He found Kuwali lying in their bed, propped up with a tiny bundle held to her naked breast. The gathering women stood aside smiling as he slowly approached and bent down to see the baby. Her skin was paler than the native children and her head was adorned with a curly mess of dirty blonde hair. He felt his heart shudder as her tiny hand balled into a fist while she nursed hungrily. Kuwali smiled back at him tiredly and welcomed his soft kiss. “What will we call her, husband?” she asked in a near whisper. Hati lifted her head from her place on her other side and regarded him sleepily.

Marcus, ever mindful and ever planning for the future, had no clue as he struggled to think of even a single name. His mother was named Siobhan from her Celtic roots and his father’s dame was called Kelta from her Scandinavian heritage. The wind picked up outside causing the lanterns to flutter and several candles to extinguish. He rose and helped Nita set the storm shutters and braced the door while she stoked the fire in the stove and fireplace.

He turned to the three women who helped with the birthing and thanked them each before advising them that they would have to remain the night and the duration of the storm. Nita immediately began preparing pallets for them before turning back to dinner preparations. The wind howled outside suddenly, and they could feel the pressure change from the violent gusts.

Marcus frowned as he stared through the walls, remembering the tempest that brought him to this place. “Övader,” he cursed under his breath and then turned back to Kuwali and the baby. “We shall call her Ova,” he declared with a soft growl, “for the storm that brought her to us.”

The storm blew itself out after two days. It was mild as far as gales go, but it left a thick blanket of snow that took several days to melt away. Once the skies had cleared Marcus followed the boys up into the hills to inspect the trees, they selected for the ferry project. He deemed them suitable and proceeded to instruct them on how to fall them properly and strip away the bark and branches. After cutting them to length they had four ideal posts. Getting them to the riverbank was an exercise in determination and perseverance for the boys who sweated and cursed as they carried each log upon their shoulders while Marcus encouraged them with not-so-subtle insults to their collective manhood.