Close Your eyes

Are you goin to scarborough fair? parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme
Remember me to one who lives there, she once was a true love of mine

Life had begun to feel like that comfortable feeling of settling into the saddle. The reins fit my hands as easily as those of my mounts and I felt as if I could point it in any direction I wished and simply take it where ever I wanted and truth is I did.

When I wasn't among those of the clan or the Midnight wagons, there wasn't that overwhelming feeling of being lonely even when I was by myself. I found I made pretty good company for me and of course for Sinewy too.

While Cana was away with the confinement of the new babe, she entrusted me with seeing to the herds. She'd made sure there were enough hands to help should any trouble arise so that I could relax in the task and take each day as it came. There were new births, training and breaking to tend to and something more as well .. a sense of confidence that lifted my shoulders tall and my head held proudly high.

Barhk, Duran, Sage and I were riding the outer perimeter of the herd late one eve, talking now and then but more just relishing the splendor of the sunset when we noticed a camp fire ahead of us. Barhk rode on, and of course Duran, who could smell paga in a sealed bota several pasangs away, reined in. I had to laugh watching as he made himself at home, eating whatever was sizzling in the flames and plucking a slave from her chores to warm his lap.

It was good to see Ramza though for a while I stayed in the saddle. I asked if he following me even though we were the ones that crashed his party. He just asked if I was going to remain up there on my mount or actually get down and enjoy the fire. I have to admit the warmth did beckon and I gave in to it. Although it had been a while since we'd seen each other, it was as if it had only been a day when we fell into the humorous banter and teasing. He spoke what was on my mind ... it was good to see an old friend.

While he tossed me a fur to wrap in, I promised to bring him a chest from the caravan to put his paints in. It was our thing I guess, trading baskets and chests. He did surprise me when he said he had been to my wagon to retouch the murial. For a long time I just looked at him, studying him and putting his features, his scars, his expressions by the light of the fire to memory. He had touched me by doing this for me.

We talked as we usually do, for ahns, until I grew sleepy. There didn't seem any threatening need to rise and ride back to the harigga and within the comforting safety I drifted off to dream. I think in a way all women, no matter how strong, or strong willed, find peace in knowing that there is someone that can and will protect her. That was how it felt at that moment. It was a different kind of contentment when I felt his touch brush the wisps off my forehead with a gentleness that spoke of caring. I knew somehow that all through the night .. he was right there, watching over me.