Traveller Inceptio

Tatae wasn’t to be seen, which wasn’t surprising.

Michael failed to report the developing issue of Tatae, the village healer and young widow. Too often his mind wandered to her. Tatae made quite an effort to see Michael after the village celebration. In the 21st Century, with makeup and toiletries, she would have been outstanding, but even in Saxon Aengland she was a beauty. Michael began to avoid her as she wasn’t only becoming friendlier, but she also began to look far too appealing. He thought the attraction might have been because he was ‘going native’, but no matter how he reasoned otherwise, she was gorgeous. Like most Saxon women, she was physically small, but strong and wilful, and as she held a position of responsibility in the village, she was neither a soft woman, nor a fool. Discretion dictated that she should not be pursued, though mission parameters didn’t even mention how to handle the attentions of a beautiful woman. Add to that the obvious infatuation of the thegn’s daughter, Eabae with the big cow-eyes, and he feared complications could result. Besides, in a village the size of Giolgrave, everyone knew everyone else’s business. Brother Aldfrid the Abbot would not be impressed if his divine visitor engaged in any gallivanting. It was vital that Brother Aldfrid be kept as an ally and friend.

Tatae, with the rest of the villagers, was aware of the journey that he was to undertake with Eadric and the monks. In such a small village, there were few secrets, ample gossip, and a lot of supposition. The lives of each member of the community intertwined in a way Michael found difficult to comprehend. Not only did everyone know what everyone else was doing, they expected to know.

The day before his departure, being the Sabbath, Michael had just completed his morning training and was about to wash and go to the church for services. As he completed his exertions, his body sweating and exhilarated, he caught sight of Tatae standing elf-like in the forest. She was twenty or so paces from his training area and she watched him silently. He couldn’t tell if she had been there long, but she looked as if she had just appeared. She seemed mystical, mysterious, and so very appealing. He self-consciously donned his tunic and tried to tidy his hair, quietly relieved that he had only just shaved. The villagers had difficulty understanding how he managed to shave so closely, especially without another shaving him. Naturally, they knew nothing of disposable razors and his standard-issue toiletry mirror. Shaving properly was one of his issues on personal hygiene that he wanted to maintain, even if it meant using modern equipment. Compared to the scruffy faces of the rest of the village men, Michael’s smooth face was another mystery the villagers accepted, and many of the women raised their eyebrows in overt admiration.

Tatae wore a pale-yellow woollen shift that came to her calves, her usual thin leather belt with her seax at her back. Her golden hair was a single braid into which bright yellow buttercups were woven and was draped over her shoulder to rest on her breast. Her slim, pale feet were bare and she smiled and gestured to Michael to follow as she turned and walked into the forest. Without question or rational thought, Michael hurriedly gathered his gear and followed some paces behind, for she appeared to drift amongst the trees, a golden apparition that flickered between the gloom and the golden shafts of morning sunlight. The shift she wore was partially see-through and as the sunbeams lit her, he glimpsed the silhouette of her naked form beneath, the belt accentuating the swell of her hips as she moved gracefully, leading him deeper into the forest. Occasionally Tatae would pause to glance back coyly and then smile her enigmatic smile before moving on, like the figment of a waking dream.

It was only after some silent kilometres that she paused by a small creek where a crystal clear pool formed beside a sunlit, grassy clearing. Bright-yellow buttercups bloomed as the tiny flowers covered the area in a swathe. A small cave was close by, and to Michael, the setting had a mystical air, as if magic or ancient powers gathered. There was an undeniable primal energy, a feeling Michael had only experienced with the hunters, and once before when on a training patrol in Australia’s far-north Cape York.

His platoon had paused by a secluded monolith bordered by a crystal clear, spring-fed billabong and they felt a presence, as if their intrusion had interrupted an ancient brooding. One of his team, of aboriginal descent, had been stunned by the location. Quietly he told Michael that the place was sacred, even to whites. The members of the patrol had been hushed and thoughtful as the ancient power was undeniable even to the most spiritually destitute among them.

By the still pool, Tatae had prepared a small picnic with a skin of beor and a freshly roasted rabbit. She stood to one side nervously as Michael walked closer. He smiled, placed his gear onto the ground amongst the flowers, blood roaring in his ears as he stood before her. She looked up as if struck with a sudden fear and her amber eyes watched, uncertain. To Michael, she looked as if part of the forest had sprung to life. The pale gold of her shift suited the amber of her eyes and the bright yellow of the flowers that adorned her hair and ground. He had never seen anything so innocent and lovely.

He gently took her hand and she smiled nervously, and then stood on tippy-toes to kiss his cheek. Their bodies were not quite touching so he gently placed his hand on the small of her back and she eagerly moved to him as they embraced, kissing gently at first, with a sigh, and then more deeply. Her arms reached around his neck and she held him, pausing to kiss his smooth cheeks and then kiss him again, this time even more hungrily, passionately.

With his hands on her waist, Michael could feel Tatae’s soft warmth beneath the thin shift. Saxon women normally wore layers of dyed, light woollen garments in complimentary earthy colours and he found her lack of other garments intensely arousing. Tatae’s firm body pressed against him and her hands went to cup his face as she looked into his eyes and smiled. She rested her head on his chest with her eyes closed while Michael had a mild panic about how he must smell, especially after his morning workout.

As if reading his mind, Tatae pulled away and loosened her belt to slip her shift over her head and carelessly toss the garment to the flowers. She stood naked before him, suddenly fearful, as if afraid she might disappoint.

Despite his best efforts to present a warrior-like unperturbed air, Michael stood with his mouth open in admiration. Having spent most of his life dreaming of girls like Tatae, he was temporarily stunned as to what to do next. Soldiers always talk about sex, and because of the mobile nature of their work in the Special Forces, Michael found he was not as experienced in romantic conquest as he would like. Sex was purely another matter, as R&R could involve a casual dalliance or a night with a sex-worker in one city or another, but he was dedicated to the military. As his ex-wife would attest, like many professional soldiers, he had a lot to learn about the psychology of romance.

Michael couldn’t help but compare his 21st Century experiences with his immediate impression of Tatae. Not having access to the processed fast foods, she had a figure most women of the future would envy. With her life of hard physical labour, she was well muscled and certainly not skinny. While lacking access to depilatory skills of professional beauticians, she had the dark, golden hair her body naturally gave her. She was devastatingly beautiful and he watched her hungrily as, like a nymph, she turned and stepped daintily into the water. She surfaced with a gasp as the bracing, clear water swirled around her and smiled to watch him undress, her pink nipples taut and her skin goose-pimpled. She submerged and swam to resurface and wipe her face as he, almost frantically, shrugged off his clothes and stood on the bank to dive in.

The water was an icy embrace, colder than his little pool where he washed daily. Michael tried to prepare, yet the cold hit him with a small shock as he swam underwater. He grasped her ankle, pulled her under, and then swam to hold her so they stood naked, skin-to-skin, warming each other against the water’s chill. Michael felt her hands on him, on his back and on his bottom as they kissed and she pushed herself against him.

She pulled away from his kiss momentarily and, feeling his obvious arousal, smiled knowingly and placed her hands onto his shoulders to raise her feet. The water swirled as she guided him and gasped as they joined. Her legs wrapped around his bottom and gripped him as she groaned, her weight supported by the water as they kissed, hands endlessly caressing.

Michael found that often, when important things happened in his life, part of his mind remained rational and alert. He appreciated that making love in the water was an art. Though such an act may be glamorised in the movies, where it may look easy, making love in the water was not a simple thing. Maintaining balance and keeping the right fervour meant the activity needed to be stringently managed. Experience showed that it wasn’t appropriate to drop your lover’s head under the water, pop out, or simply slip over in a moment of blind passion. Yet Tatae managed it all without losing one ounce of momentum until she arched her back and her head touched the water as she cried out in exhilaration. Her small breasts pointed skywards and her delicious nipples were pinkly taut. With her eyes closed in bliss, she pulled herself back to him and embraced tightly, her chin tucked into the curve of his neck, her legs clasped tightly, as the heavy rope of her hair hung wetly down her back.

Her simple passion and uncomplicated need were never before experienced by Michael. Without the so-called sophistication of the smoothly shallow modern love, Tatae just wanted him, no questions asked. Her hands gently massaged his hair and shoulders, as with a gently passionate kiss, she raised herself off his spent support, and hand in hand, guided him to the gravel bank the led them out of the water.

There they made best use of the blanket amongst the buttercups, the food and drink forgotten. The weather was pleasantly warm and they were alone in the world, two lovers embarking on a voyage of discovery where each passion and experience was new. The smoothness of her creamy skin, the curve of her lips, the shape of her fingers and the amber of her captivating eyes entranced him. Between their bouts of lovemaking, they lay and snuggled or chatted about the forest and Tatae’s encyclopaedic knowledge of the plants and fungi that grew in it. She asked of his home in terms that were targeted to discover if Michael had a woman, plainly relieved that he didn’t, but curious as to know why. As the day passed, they took advantage of the refreshments Tatae had prepared; roast rabbit and a variety of gently cooked forest mushrooms, some sheep-milk cheese, and crunchy, peppery vegetable stalks Michael especially enjoyed. Tatae told him they helped a man keep active in bed, not that he needed encouragement.

They dived into the pool to refresh, her body slippery and lithe as she swam, otter-like, careless and free.

As with all magical occasions, theirs was soon to end as the afternoon sun cast long shadows onto their sanctuary. Michael noted with some surprise that the mystical sensations he connected to their sanctuary hadn’t dissipated. It seemed their union was approved in this hallowed place. As if remembering something of import, Tatae rekindled the small fire and reached for a leather bag she had placed near the food. From it she removed a variety of ingredients that included dried herbs, a few small feathers, eggshells, and some pieces of sweet-smelling wood. She scattered some of the ingredients onto the fire to create a fragrant smoke that wafted thinly around them as she rubbed more of the ingredients between her hands and sang a short song over and over. Michael sat before her, cross-legged. Tatae knelt and leaned forward to rub his boar-tooth charm with the mix. She then rubbed her hands gently over his face, shoulders, and chest, and over his stomach to his groin. Resting back onto her heels, she rubbed the mix on herself in a similar way, all the while repeating her small song, an enigmatic smile upon her lips and her amber eyes half-closed. To Michael, her eyes appeared larger, her pupils dilated, and as he breathed in the smoke, it felt that something immense and powerful skulked silently in the forest, a being or beings that watched their activities with interest and approval.

Tatae then stuffed the remnants of the mix into two small pouches no bigger than the end of Michael’s thumb. They were seamless and appeared to be two small scrotums and Michael idly wondered what animal they had come from. Once the pouches were filled, Tatae tied them with a piece of stringy bark and then she kissed the amulets before she tied them to strips of leather. Still chanting, she placed one over Michael’s head and kissed his lips lightly, then placed the other over her own. She had to lift her heavy hair through the loop of the leather thong to permit the amulet to rest around her neck where it lay between her breasts and against her heart.

She ceased her singing. “This will keep you safe, my Lord and my love,” she murmured. At this she gave a small start of surprise. Her hand flew to her mouth as if she had betrayed a deadly secret.

He smiled to allay her fears and held her small hand to his heart.

With a look of enormous relief, she kissed him deeply, and, before they became amorous yet again, persisted with her explanation. “These are old ways, taught by my mother and her mother. While the tooth you wear, and the markings on your skin, are of men and of fire, this gift I give is a thing of the earth, of water, and of women.”

Michael nodded, but suspected something in the smoke had hallucinogenic properties that raised his awareness. He was captivated by the little things about her: the dusting of golden freckles on her nose, her strong, yet gentle hands, and how she was shameless in her nudity. He showed his approval as he held her by the waist and caressed the swell of her bottom.

She smiled, but continued. “The old goddesses are of these forests, its creatures, and our sacred knowledge.” She gestured to the forest where it seemed beings still watched. “There is Hretha, the goddess of war and victory, who battles winter and gives us our spring and summer in its cycle, and there is Estre of the land, bringing forth her bounty and life and rebirth.” Her hands unconsciously rested on her taut, lower tummy where her womb lay. “Together they will look after you as you journey, my Lord and my love, as you will have hardship ahead of you.” She looked at Michael with eyes that were very large and she chewed her lower lip in concern.

“Why do you have an amulet, Tatae?” he asked, his eyes half-closed. He felt pleasantly disconnected from reality.

She blushed lightly, with a delicate pink that stretched from the tips of her ears to her nipples, and, despite the seriousness of what she revealed, he laughed gently, delighted.

Her words tumbled out like a rush of water. “I have one of these because I love you and want you to return to me.”

Michael’s heart pounded. Part of him reprimanded that he might have placed his mission in a compromising position. He looked at the beautiful young woman kneeling naked before him and knew she was making a commitment that could cost her dearly. Her long, golden hair was backlit with the afternoon sun and she appeared like one of the goddesses of which she spoke; strong and assured, while also all too vulnerable.

She watched his face, suddenly fearful of rejection.

Michael reached to Tatae, pulled her to him and kissed her, not in passion, but in a loving tenderness he had rarely felt. He had permitted today to happen. This beautiful wonder of a woman with her gentle, loving nature had slipped past his defences. Not for the first time, he wondered as to how he could be here in a new land, and with these people, and why? To be moved one thousand years into the past to meet and fall in love sounded trite, but here he was with a woman with more substance and passion than he had ever imagined.

He distinctly felt as if forest beings still watched, expectant and benign, but powerful in a way he could never understand, as if his continued existence depended on the completion of a complex test. Michael thought how British hippies would give their left arm for what had been cast into the fire, but he decided to go with his instincts and speak the truth. “Tatae, I have come from far, so very far away, and I can’t say what will happen to us, but know that I love you and will return to you. How will depend on the will and protection of the gods and goddesses.” He rested his hand on her shoulder, slight yet strong, her pale skin so satin-smooth.

“Well, I think, my love, that you’re not an angel as the monks say,” she said in mock innocence.

He laughed and shook his head. “Since I’ve been here, I don’t know what I’m supposed to be, except with you.” He smiled and she laughed lightly as she hugged him and tenderly brushed strands of hair from his face.

“Well my Michael, if we are to follow the ways of the old ones, in this sacred place we should fulfil this rite only one way, the one way that will make the goddesses take notice.” Her eyes half-closed, her expression hungry as she pushed him back until he lay on the grass. Tatae then sat astride him, and as their cries echoed into the forest, there was the distinct impression of heartfelt approval as the ancient ceremony was completed with gusto.