From: mortedulce@aol.com (MorteDulce)
Date: 18 Feb 1998 01:19:11 EST
Morte sat in the middle of their bed, her pale face framed by wisps o' her red hair. She dinnae remember much o' the last few days, the illness that had struck her and Aggy made time a blur. She did remember a vision o' Cat and Badger bendin o'er her, their voices muffled. "She's a fighter, Badger, and so is Aggy. They'll recover if we keep them warm and make them drink." Morte felt a cool hand on her verra hot forehead. "You must drink this Morte."
Morte had tried to sip the cool liquid, but her body had been wracked by the cough, and she had gratefully passed out.
In the small stillroom deep in the cellars of the manor, Cat worked late into the night. Her worry drove her hard, worry for her friend Morte and her sweet daughter. She moved quickly through the crowded room, deftly avoiding the hanging bunches of herbs and the bottles and bowls that decorated each and every available surface. A small pot set over a brazier gave off a heady aroma, strong enough to make her eyes sting and water, but she brushed
away the tears on her cheeks carefully with the back of her arm. Finally, with a sigh of relief, she set the bowls aside and checked their contents one last time.
There was a pouch of herbs to be set in boiling water. Hopefully, the steam would ease their breathing. The bitter tonic she poured into a bottle and stoppered it carefully. It was strong, almost to the point of danger, but it was the only medicine left that she thought could help. And finally, a thick paste to ease the pains in their chests. Her nose wrinkled over the strong scent, but she was used to such and quickly had it transferred to a jar.
(tbc)
the twisted path
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From: mortedulce@aol.com (MorteDulce)
Date: 18 Feb 1998 01:21:01 EST
Standing over the sink in the corner of the room, Cat let the water run over her hands and arms, washing them carefully to remove the last traces of her work. Strain showed in her shoulders, the strain of concern for her friends and of keeping the worry from her face. She had tried hard to keep her thoughts to herself. Badger already sat night and day beside his wife and step-daughter, worrying himself almost to the point of exhaustion. She had not
the heart to worry him further. And the others came to the door almost hourly in spite of her shooing them away. Their concern endeared them to her even more.
She gathered up the bottles and placed them carefully in a basket. With a final look around the little room, she pulled a brass key out of her pocket and locked the heavy door behind her. Then, setting her face in a cheerful mask, she headed up the stairs.
The room seemed so hot to Morte, and her body ached. She opened her eyes and saw her love, sitting on the bed looking down on her. "Love....?" She could hardly believe that the harsh raspy sound was her voice. Someone put a cool, damp cloth against her forehead. "Morte, love. Ye must be quiet.... shhhhhh. Tis alright now." Morte heard Cat's voice speak softly. "Aggy seems to be breathing better, and his
fever has broken. I have some broth for both of them. Try to get Morte to have some, Badger."
(tbc)
Date: 18 Feb 1998 01:21:01 EST
Standing over the sink in the corner of the room, Cat let the water run over her hands and arms, washing them carefully to remove the last traces of her work. Strain showed in her shoulders, the strain of concern for her friends and of keeping the worry from her face. She had tried hard to keep her thoughts to herself. Badger already sat night and day beside his wife and step-daughter, worrying himself almost to the point of exhaustion. She had not
the heart to worry him further. And the others came to the door almost hourly in spite of her shooing them away. Their concern endeared them to her even more.
She gathered up the bottles and placed them carefully in a basket. With a final look around the little room, she pulled a brass key out of her pocket and locked the heavy door behind her. Then, setting her face in a cheerful mask, she headed up the stairs.
The room seemed so hot to Morte, and her body ached. She opened her eyes and saw her love, sitting on the bed looking down on her. "Love....?" She could hardly believe that the harsh raspy sound was her voice. Someone put a cool, damp cloth against her forehead. "Morte, love. Ye must be quiet.... shhhhhh. Tis alright now." Morte heard Cat's voice speak softly. "Aggy seems to be breathing better, and his
fever has broken. I have some broth for both of them. Try to get Morte to have some, Badger."
(tbc)
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From: mortedulce@aol.com (MorteDulce)
Date: 18 Feb 1998 01:23:18 EST
A cough ripped through Morte's body, wracking her body with long hard spasms. She leaned forwards, Badger taking her weak body in his arms as she coughed. He rubbed her back and whispered words of love and encouragement to her until her body was still. He held her close and rocked her gently, and she felt at peace. When Morte awoke next, she noticed that Aggy was gone. Her room was empty. She stood on shakey legs, grabbin the tapestry robe. She
walked slowly to the french door and looked out at the gray world. She felt like she would go crazy if she stayed in this room one more minute. She went to her clothes press and took out her buff pants and a heavy leather tunic. She dressed quickly, feeling the cold in her bones. She pulled on her heavy boots and threw her heaviest cloak around her slim shoulders. She looked once more at her room, their room. She quietly open the french door and
slipped out into the cold gray afternoon. She headed purposely into the trees, leavin a trail of small bootprints behind her.
Morte walked down the muddy wet path through the trees. Her face felt hot, and she pushed off the hood to her cloak. The cold early evening air chilling her. She walked on for a long time uncertain of why she was walking. In her mind, she felt a keen loss and an overpowering need to what was lost. Her cloak caught on a bramble and she stumbled, falling to one knee. She sat against a tall oak, it's branches spread like fingers in the sky. She
coughed until she was spent and then pulled herself to her feet once more. She headed deeper into the forest.
Date: 18 Feb 1998 01:23:18 EST
A cough ripped through Morte's body, wracking her body with long hard spasms. She leaned forwards, Badger taking her weak body in his arms as she coughed. He rubbed her back and whispered words of love and encouragement to her until her body was still. He held her close and rocked her gently, and she felt at peace. When Morte awoke next, she noticed that Aggy was gone. Her room was empty. She stood on shakey legs, grabbin the tapestry robe. She
walked slowly to the french door and looked out at the gray world. She felt like she would go crazy if she stayed in this room one more minute. She went to her clothes press and took out her buff pants and a heavy leather tunic. She dressed quickly, feeling the cold in her bones. She pulled on her heavy boots and threw her heaviest cloak around her slim shoulders. She looked once more at her room, their room. She quietly open the french door and
slipped out into the cold gray afternoon. She headed purposely into the trees, leavin a trail of small bootprints behind her.
Morte walked down the muddy wet path through the trees. Her face felt hot, and she pushed off the hood to her cloak. The cold early evening air chilling her. She walked on for a long time uncertain of why she was walking. In her mind, she felt a keen loss and an overpowering need to what was lost. Her cloak caught on a bramble and she stumbled, falling to one knee. She sat against a tall oak, it's branches spread like fingers in the sky. She
coughed until she was spent and then pulled herself to her feet once more. She headed deeper into the forest.
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From: mortedulce@aol.com (MorteDulce)
Date: 18 Feb 1998 01:25:18 EST
The sky was fading into night as Morte wandered through the forest. She paused briefly to lean against a tree, her cough racking her body. She shut her eyes as she strove to catch her breath, her right hand covering her mouth. The tree held her body upright as she slowly recovered her breath. Finally, Morte stood up on the muddy path, her right hand grabbing at the trunk on a small oak. She stumbled onwards on the path, the only clues to her
passing were the bloody hand print on the sapling, and the few red drops on the white snow.
Morte walks dazed, the cold and wet taking their toll on her. " I cannae find... Oh Goddess.. help me..... I dunnae know where te look" Morte muttered as she stumbled down the snowy path, her breath coming shallower. She fell into the glade, it's warmth surrounding her like a mother's arms. Morte lay there in the light of the Goddess' home, a sea of green warm light. She pulled herself up and stagger the few feet to the centre of the small
mound. She lay down then and let the warm, gentle touch of the grass take her, a small trickle of blood running from the corner of her small mouth.
fron the corner of her small mouth.
Ceinwen strode into the glade, her bow raised to shoot the stag that bounded through the grass. It was then that she noticed the small body lying in the circle of stones. The bow and arrow dropped from her hands and she approached the prone figure. The Goddess knelt and turned over Morte's unconscienous body, her head shaking at what had become of her daughter. She pulled Morte into her arms and sat there, holding on to the only true child of
her body and heart. The Goddess waited, knowing that in the fullness of the night all would be revealed. Morte coughed softly, and Ceinwen kissed her hot forehead and whispered "Tis fine now, my child... you are in your mothers arms". Morte smiled without knowing why.
(tbc)
Date: 18 Feb 1998 01:25:18 EST
The sky was fading into night as Morte wandered through the forest. She paused briefly to lean against a tree, her cough racking her body. She shut her eyes as she strove to catch her breath, her right hand covering her mouth. The tree held her body upright as she slowly recovered her breath. Finally, Morte stood up on the muddy path, her right hand grabbing at the trunk on a small oak. She stumbled onwards on the path, the only clues to her
passing were the bloody hand print on the sapling, and the few red drops on the white snow.
Morte walks dazed, the cold and wet taking their toll on her. " I cannae find... Oh Goddess.. help me..... I dunnae know where te look" Morte muttered as she stumbled down the snowy path, her breath coming shallower. She fell into the glade, it's warmth surrounding her like a mother's arms. Morte lay there in the light of the Goddess' home, a sea of green warm light. She pulled herself up and stagger the few feet to the centre of the small
mound. She lay down then and let the warm, gentle touch of the grass take her, a small trickle of blood running from the corner of her small mouth.
fron the corner of her small mouth.
Ceinwen strode into the glade, her bow raised to shoot the stag that bounded through the grass. It was then that she noticed the small body lying in the circle of stones. The bow and arrow dropped from her hands and she approached the prone figure. The Goddess knelt and turned over Morte's unconscienous body, her head shaking at what had become of her daughter. She pulled Morte into her arms and sat there, holding on to the only true child of
her body and heart. The Goddess waited, knowing that in the fullness of the night all would be revealed. Morte coughed softly, and Ceinwen kissed her hot forehead and whispered "Tis fine now, my child... you are in your mothers arms". Morte smiled without knowing why.
(tbc)
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From: mortedulce@aol.com (MorteDulce)
Date: 18 Feb 1998 01:26:45 EST
Through the next days Morte grew in strenght in her body, by her soul was still troubled by Badger's sudden leavin. Not a word te her or even te Jeff.... he just left one night. She talked te Ceinwen or men and love, but the Goddess dinnae feel love as mortals do. And so Morte walked the glade and tried te think o' what had happened to her world. Ceinwen had woken her up on a fine clear morn and sent her on her way back to Rhy-Din.
Morte walks back to the Manor, her body healed but her spirit still troubled. Many things had becomes clear to her, her parentage..... and her love for her husband. She breathed deeply as she stepped into the House, taking the stairs two at a time. she threw open the door to their suite, it's emptiness echoing in her ears. Badger had not returned to their home, and Morte knew that he wasn't in danger. She sat down hard on the bed, their bed, and
frowned. ' tis been time enough for a word from him.' her heart broke, ' well, Morte... tis time te pick yerself up and move on.' and with a "bang" she heard the door open and Aislain and Aggy ran into her room. They hopped onte the bed and inte her arms, smotherin her with gross bisses. Summer stood infront o' her holdin Charlie in one arm and Pru in te other. "tis good that ye are back, Morte..." Morte took Pru in her arms, her little eyes lightin
up te see her muther. "Aye Summer, I be back, but I have decided that Badger be nae coomin back te me. I dunnae know what curse be on me that he has done this thing, but i'll nae live with broken promises."
Date: 18 Feb 1998 01:26:45 EST
Through the next days Morte grew in strenght in her body, by her soul was still troubled by Badger's sudden leavin. Not a word te her or even te Jeff.... he just left one night. She talked te Ceinwen or men and love, but the Goddess dinnae feel love as mortals do. And so Morte walked the glade and tried te think o' what had happened to her world. Ceinwen had woken her up on a fine clear morn and sent her on her way back to Rhy-Din.
Morte walks back to the Manor, her body healed but her spirit still troubled. Many things had becomes clear to her, her parentage..... and her love for her husband. She breathed deeply as she stepped into the House, taking the stairs two at a time. she threw open the door to their suite, it's emptiness echoing in her ears. Badger had not returned to their home, and Morte knew that he wasn't in danger. She sat down hard on the bed, their bed, and
frowned. ' tis been time enough for a word from him.' her heart broke, ' well, Morte... tis time te pick yerself up and move on.' and with a "bang" she heard the door open and Aislain and Aggy ran into her room. They hopped onte the bed and inte her arms, smotherin her with gross bisses. Summer stood infront o' her holdin Charlie in one arm and Pru in te other. "tis good that ye are back, Morte..." Morte took Pru in her arms, her little eyes lightin
up te see her muther. "Aye Summer, I be back, but I have decided that Badger be nae coomin back te me. I dunnae know what curse be on me that he has done this thing, but i'll nae live with broken promises."
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From: mortedulce@aol.com (MorteDulce)
Date: 18 Feb 1998 20:44:43 EST
Morte walked to the glade, her heart heavy with pain. She knelt in the center of the stone ring, she wedding ring in her hand. She set it gently in the grass, a tear falling down her cheek while she stood. She walked from the circle and then turned to look back at the ring that had symbolized so much promise. Her heart o'er flowed and she fell te her knees, her sobs echoing o'er the glade.
A glow began around the small silver ring, the light becomin brighter until the circle shimmered. As suddenly as the glow had begun, it ended. In the center of the circle lay a silver bow. Morte stood and walked to the bow, her hand reachin getly down and caressin the fine weapon in her hands. It was nae how shewould have had it te be, but she would live. She strode from the Glade, the bow in her hand and healin in her heart.
Date: 18 Feb 1998 20:44:43 EST
Morte walked to the glade, her heart heavy with pain. She knelt in the center of the stone ring, she wedding ring in her hand. She set it gently in the grass, a tear falling down her cheek while she stood. She walked from the circle and then turned to look back at the ring that had symbolized so much promise. Her heart o'er flowed and she fell te her knees, her sobs echoing o'er the glade.
A glow began around the small silver ring, the light becomin brighter until the circle shimmered. As suddenly as the glow had begun, it ended. In the center of the circle lay a silver bow. Morte stood and walked to the bow, her hand reachin getly down and caressin the fine weapon in her hands. It was nae how shewould have had it te be, but she would live. She strode from the Glade, the bow in her hand and healin in her heart.
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From: mortedulce@aol.com (MorteDulce)
Date: 19 Feb 1998 21:39:27 EST
The afternoon became warmer as Morte walked the dusty path back te the Manor. As she hopped the small stream the crossed the path, she realized jus how hot she had become. She sat down on a small boulder that edged the cool water. Morte pulled her boots off and dipped her feet in the crisp,cool water.
She sat there for a long time, thinkin, wishin, and hopin that there was more than this.
Date: 19 Feb 1998 21:39:27 EST
The afternoon became warmer as Morte walked the dusty path back te the Manor. As she hopped the small stream the crossed the path, she realized jus how hot she had become. She sat down on a small boulder that edged the cool water. Morte pulled her boots off and dipped her feet in the crisp,cool water.
She sat there for a long time, thinkin, wishin, and hopin that there was more than this.