Arrows of Time - Kim Falconer [120]
Selene leaned towards her. ‘I thought we were here to listen, to measure the mood,’ she said, also speaking with her mug held to her lips. ‘What are you up to?’
‘We’ll be listening, of course. I want to see how he is received, up close. I want to see their faces.’
Jarrod felt the chill again and saw Nell falter. She put down her empty mug and gripped the edge of the table. She recovered, smiling at the boys. He tossed an extra coin into their coffer and refilled her mug. She quaffed it and brightened.
Are you all right? Jarrod asked.
‘Let’s find the poles!’ she called out, not answering his mental message. Her voice rose over the crowd. ‘I want to dance.’
Are you ignoring me, Nell, or not hearing me? He forced a smile. I’m not sure which is worse.
She gave no indication of awareness. Jarrod exchanged looks with Selene and Shane as Nell skipped ahead. Selene gripped his arm, inclining her head towards a group of women who were coming their way. The light breeze had blown open their robes, revealing thin curved swords at their hips, hilts studded with lapis stones smooth against the black leather wraps.
‘Do you notice something amiss?’ Selene whispered to Jarrod. ‘Perhaps a bit of incongruence?’ She didn’t wait for a response. ‘These women are carrying swords—fine ones, too. I thought Nell said they were banned.’
‘Leave this to me,’ he said. ‘We don’t want to draw attention.’ Jarrod quickened his pace to catch up with Nell. He caught her waist, drawing her into his body, his arm around her shoulder as they danced along. He tightened his grip, smiling to passers-by as he felt her flinch. ‘I’m a little confused, Nellion.’
‘How so?’ she asked. Her face was beaming out towards the crowd, but she stiffened in his embrace.
‘There are mentors wielding swords, Nell. Women.’ He tossed his head back behind him. ‘A lot of them. Would you like to explain?’
‘I’m as surprised as you,’ she said, her glamour shifting for a second. She slipped out from under his arm and made to twirl away.
He caught her hand and pulled her back. ‘That isn’t quite enough of an explanation.’
She let out a giggle and kissed his cheek, her hand wiggling out of his like a slippery fish. ‘There they are,’ she shouted. ‘The ribbon poles! Hurry.’ She ran ahead, pushing through the crowd to join the maypole dancers. ‘There’s room for us,’ she said, waving them in.
Poles were planted in the close-cropped grass of the training grounds. They stood tall, streams of rainbow ribbons sprouting from their tops, fluttering against the bright blue sky. A raised platform stood nearby, banners snapping in the wind. There the bards assembled, ready to play. As they approached, the sound of fiddles filled the air, backed by the driving rhythm of guitars, mandolins and bouzoukis. Percussion instruments joined in with the low thump of wooden drums, pounding out a syncopated beat, accompanied by a jangle of shakers, bells and tambourines. The crowd tapped their feet and clapped their hands, contributing accents with sticks and castanets. A chorus of flutes, pipes and whistles wove in and out of the melody, raising the energy higher with their sweet, lilting tones. The ground shook beneath Jarrod’s feet as people jumped up and down, many crowding the poles, leaping to grasp the wafting ribbons.
A couple emerged from the crowd, holding hands and flashing smiles towards everyone. A wave of cheers rose, following them as they approached the other dancers. Nell pushed in, Jarrod fast behind her, until they were next to the couple at the main pole, grasping for ribbons.
What are you up to, Nell? Is this your priest?
Again she either did not hear him, or pretended not to. When the dance began he saw Selene and Shane moving in the opposite direction as they began weaving the ribbons in and out in time to the music. He skipped along, ducking under one arm and over the next, in and out, over and under, as the colourful streamers twisted round and round the pole.
‘What do you make of this?’ Shane whispered to Jarrod as he whisked past him.
Selene followed, mumbling