[tweetmeme source=”RebeccaEnzor” only_single=false https://rebeccaenzor.wordpress.com/2011/11/11/fie-eoin-frida…tival-of-aleda/]
I promised on Twitter last week that in honor of Gar’s birthday (Nov 2nd) we would have a Gar scene last week. And then I was so busy at work that I wasn’t able to put up a FEF for the week. So this week you get a scene that’s heavy on the Gar (which is why it was cut – Kindra is not speaking to Gar during the Festival in the re-write), as well as one that starts off a serial about the Festival of Aleda! Because we are also celebrating YAllFest this weekend!
When we’re done with Kindra and Gar’s part of the festival we’ll move on to Kaye and Bryant’s, because both festivals have been cut from the re-written version of Fie Eoin, and I never give you guys any Kaye scenes 🙂
Festival of Aleda
“Kindra!” Oak waved from across the fire circle, beckoning her over. There was a stranger sitting next to the chief – an uncommon sight so early in the year – and a group of men standing behind him. They turned and regarded her closely as she neared, and she squeezed Gar’s hand before dropping it to bow to the chief and his guests.
“This is Fennec’s girl?”
She looked up, startled at the question, before realizing the stranger was not a stranger at all. He was a man of the Seven Tribes – a warrior even – but dressed in the clothing of another tribe, his mark hidden from view. He had been a friend of her father’s.
He smiled. “And I see little William Bayn has grown into a fine young warrior. What do they call you now, son?”
“Gar, sir,” he said with a grin and shook the man’s hand. “It’s very good to see you again, Coyote.”
That helped stir Kindra’s memory. The ex-warrior was Geoff’s father and Fennec’s good friend. He left the tribe a year after the battle, on a mission with a group of warriors to find food. He lost his son to the battle and his wife to the Starving Winter, and never returned with the others. Kindra assumed he was dead.
He turned his hazel eyes to her and smiled in wonder. “I can’t believe that sly old fox actually made you into a warrior.”
“Not to offend, sir,” Gar put an arm around her shoulders and squeezed, “but she made herself into a warrior.”
Kindra blushed and looked down, embarrassed over Gar’s pride in her. “I had some help,” she mumbled.
Coyote laughed – a large, deep bellow that didn’t match his name at all. “We all knew any child of Fennec’s had the stuff of a warrior in them, but how did you get this old man to let you in?” He winked at her as he nudged Oak, who scowled.
The chief straightened his shirt and smoothed over the beads before answering. “She challenged a young man on her first day at practice and won. I could see there was no use telling her no, she would have kept returning until we relented.”
“Just like her father. Good.” Coyote’s eyes danced in the light from the bonfire. “So tell me, warrior girl, what do they call you?”
He laughed his big, booming laugh again and she turned to Gar, who shuffled uncomfortably.
“She, um, doesn’t have her warrior name yet,” he said as Coyote’s laughs died down.
“Oh.” He gave her a repentant smile. “I do apologize. I thought it was a joke.”
Kindra shrugged. “No joke. That’s my name and it seems it’s going to stay that way for some time. I’ve received my fair share of scars since then, but none to complete my mark.”
There was an awkward pause as she stood defiant against any ridicule that may come, but Coyote nodded.
“So be it, Bride of Eoin. Perhaps the God doesn’t require a new name for his wife.” He smiled then, “although I hear you are cheating on the War God with another man.”
She blushed and Gar grinned, his arm squeezed her shoulders automatically. “Oh she is, sir.”
“Well, let’s hope He doesn’t take his revenge on you then,” Coyote said and raised his cup of wine. “To the God, Eoin; but mostly to the Goddess, Trina. Only she could temper his jealousy.”