Caesaria

XXI

The crowd had gathered before the execution stone. The divot where rested centuries worth of heads was stained black with blood. Behind the Georgians, stood the Mosaics, a cluster of buildings forming a C shape around a perfectly square pond, formed of scaly stone. It was there, at the back of the crowd, that Jackson stood, eyes upon the greenish ripples caused by pondskaters and deerflies. There were no frogs this morning; they were far too frightened of the whoops and roars coming from the warriors of the gathering. He imagine them, hiding their slimy little heads in the mud, peering up at the sun-pierced surface for when the men and women would disperse. When their lives could resume, and all could return to what it was.

Jackson had used to play down here as a child. Dive in the mucky, algae-filled pond and come up with a hairful of green sludge. He'd used to catch frogs with Daniel, watch the dragonflies with Hanna, push Corrine in with Tyne and Hanson. Funny; out of all of those children, only Hanson and Corrine were still alive. Corrine was a wife and mother now, and Hanson, an asshole. But a tolerable one, except when Lucy was around.

Mothers, daughters, and sons were rushing to fill buckets at the shore of the Mill. The small patch of sloping dirt behind the bloody stone was the only bare spot on the lakeside -- cursed soil, the old folk would say -- nobody dared draw, play, even stand there. Not even the fish dared swim there, the frogs dare perch there

"Jack!"

As if his nostalgia had conjured her, there was Corrine, elbowing her way through the crowd. She was a short, fiery woman, belly swollen with her second child. With the sharp jabs of her arms, men and women alike were quick to scatter, knowing better than to cross her. She clutched her older son, Fridrick, to her side, the child staring up at Jackson with big, curious eyes. The boy of four would start to train soon. Most boys started with wooden swords by his age.

With a huff, Corrine took up a spot next to him, setting her son down by her feet. He saw a couple other children giggling about across the pond, poking sticks in its depths, and once his mother sent him off to play, she opened as he'd expected her. "Thank the Spirits you're a giant. Makes you easy to find."

He nodded, smirking. "You'd have found me anyway.  You should've been a shield-maiden — crowd looked terrified of you."

"Cause my elbows are balls-high for most of you," she laughed. "Too bad I won't be able to see the execution from here," she sighed, standing on her tip-toes to no avail.

"I'm sure you could find a better spot up front."

"Oh, I know. But I'd rather be with you. How are you, Jackie? How's Lu?"

He sighed. "She's better. Everyday, a little more so."

She paused, waiting for him to continue. "And you..?"

"I'm fine," he said. "Where's Havvar?"

"Out. Scouting in the west, in fact. He's been out there with the rest of the men since last week."

"Until when?"

She crossed her arms over her massive belly. "Till I burst, I expect," she scoffed. "Idiot's been talking to his grandmother too much. Tells him having a man around his woman when she's with child can harm the baby. He seems to think that's why Fridrik was such a difficult pregnancy. He's a sweet man, but Spirits, he can be stupid."

He snorted. "I'm sure he'll be back. At some point."

"Course he will. He wants what I haven't been giving him since he knocked me up. And he knows better to chase tail."

He shook his head, stifling a laugh. "Eh. You could've done worse."

She whacked him. "Like you?"