***
Eventually, the snow melted sufficiently for Mutta to make the journey to talk with Goodman, but this time she crossed the boundary stones and went up the slope for the first time to speak privately with him.
“I had no idea it was here,” she told him looking around in wonder. “What was it originally?”
Goodman was cooking something in a pot over a small fire and though he greeted her with wary surprise, he seemed genuinely pleased to see her. “I’ve no idea. I presume it was a burial chamber, but there was nothing left inside. I suspect they planted the trees so close to prevent disturbance and to hide it.”
Mutta agreed and came closer to sit on a stone opposite him, which she guessed had been placed there especially for her. “Well, it worked. No one knew it was here until you found it.”
“I’m making a herb and berry tonic. Would you like some?” he asked.
Mutta nodded. But she hadn’t come here for a social chat, so she decided to get straight to the point.
“I know that you’re Cimon and that Inga was your wife,” she told him outright, then watched his reaction. Instead of denying it, he stopped and a small smile played around his mouth, before he finally met her gaze.
“I was wondering when you’d realise,” he told her, his eyes twinkling with amusement.
“I didn’t think it possible, but it makes sense. Everything you’ve done is for Inga, isn’t it? But why don’t you just tell her?”
He regarded her for a moment before answering. “It’s not as easy as that, Mutta. I wish it were. I did something terrible and though she says she’s forgiven me, I can’t be truly sure.” He met her gaze levelly. “There’s too much at stake. She’s not the same woman and she has her own life to lead.”
Mutta nodded, understanding his point. “How did you find her?”
He brought his arms up to cradle his knees and smiled quietly at her. “You’ve known all along that I’ve been missing something out, well now I’ll tell you all of it. Everything that happened that night I became like this.
“Do you remember what I told you?” he asked quietly and Mutta nodded. He bowed his head and began to speak, looking at the fire as he did so. “I went to my Uma and she made Callie, my wife, comfortable and prepared to kill me before I hurt anyone else. She’d been helping us for a few years, because though we were happy, we struggled to have a child.” He stopped and chewed his lip, lost for a moment in his memories. “Uma had some new herbs to try and Callie was excited that we might be lucky this time. We were about to try again.” Mutta watched as he told the tale; this was the truth, she realised, this was the young shepherd speaking, not the merged creature.
“Uma believed that we were being tested by the gods. For what purpose, I have no idea, but it obviously amused them to play with us.” For a moment she could still hear the bitterness in his words, but then that changed. “I think that their interest is what’s made this possible. Uma believed that they had unfinished business with us and my maker had come in and ruined their game. She didn’t think that they would take kindly to that, so she decided to help us achieve what the gods had wanted. Uma didn’t kill me, but let me live in the hope that I would find peace and atonement eventually, and she also ensured that we’d keep finding each other. She said that it was the will of the gods and when we did so they could finish their plans with us.”
“What did she do?” Mutta asked, burning with curiosity.
He shrugged. “I have no idea. But she placed her hand onto Callie’s heart and then onto mine. As soon as she made contact, I could feel Callie’s heart inside me, beating away along with my own. When she removed her hand, I could still feel it. Uma said that as long as I heard her heart beat, then my wife was still alive; when she died it would stop. We were linked for as long as I lived like this.”
“That was how you knew that she died?” Mutta said, slightly awed by what she’d heard. “You’d already gone by then.” He nodded.
“Yes, it beat faster in my head and then stopped. I knew that Callie was gone and I was too late to save her. Then unexpectedly it began again, a few years ago when I believe Inga was born. Uma had said that I would feel it and that it was my task to seek her out and see if we could be together again.” He finished and took the water off the frame and sieved it into two cups, handing one to Mutta.
“What happens if you can’t be together, if something prevents you?” she asked.
He shrugged. “I think that I have to keep on trying, waiting until one day it works. I have time. I’m immortal, unless I get severed.” He gave a slight smile.
“And you work for your salvation in the meantime, in case that happens. What if you do manage a life together?”
He smiled. “Then she can forgive me and hopefully the gods will set us both free. Uma believed that if we did this, they might allow us another time together to live a normal existence. I can but hope, Mutta,” he told her sadly.
“So why aren’t you telling Inga this? Why are you so restrained with her? Why not tell her and let her make up her own mind?”
He laughed cynically. “What position would that put her in? She’s more than likely going to be your successor, her duty is to be here with her people. Not with me.” He shook his head. “I can’t ask her to step away from everything she knows and loves, because she was someone’s wife a long time ago.” He stopped and stared into the flames, then added quietly, “If she wants to be that woman, she has to know it in herself and feel it honestly with all her heart. I won’t force her or coerce her in any way.” For a moment he watched the flames, then he turned to stare at Mutta. “But if she does remember on her own and she decides that’s what she wants, then I will fight to be with her.” His last words were said quietly but she saw the challenge in his eyes.
Mutta sat back and observed the man opposite her. “I don’t want to fight you, Goodman, and I understand your sentiments; I also respect your restraint and honour. Believe me, I have no wish to upset or thwart the gods, but I have to protect my people and Inga has been lined up to replace me, though she doesn’t know it yet. So, I have to block any attempts you make to take her from that position.”
He regarded her across the fire. “Then we could have a problem. But of course it might not come to that. It’s up to Inga and in no way will I influence her to feel any affection for me that doesn’t come from this lifetime.
“I should tell you, Mutta, that Inga as Callie showed a lot of interest and skill in Uma’s work. They often worked together and the wise woman showed and taught her many things. It doesn’t surprise me that she’s skilled today. I honestly believe that this is her soul’s journey. And I wouldn’t interfere with that unless I had to and I have no other choice.”
Mutta finished her drink and stood stiffly. “This is a tangle. Sometimes I don’t think the gods know what they’re doing. I don’t want us to be enemies, so I hope that we can respect each other’s position and allow Inga, without any influence from us, to follow her own path.”
Gracefully he got to his feet. “I agree.” He held out his hand. Mutta raised her eyebrows at that, not sure what he meant.
“Do I take it?” she asked. Goodman smiled.
“It’s a sign of agreement, a pledge. Take my hand, Mutta.” Still unsure, she did as he asked and he curled his cool fingers around her palm, then gripped. She returned the pressure and he laughed.
“It’s how we signal an agreement and peace between friends.” He let her hand go. Mutta nodded, which was her preferred way to strike an agreement, and set off back to the village.
***
“He’s gone! Mutta, he’s gone without saying goodbye! Why would he do that?” Inga asked rushing into the cottage and leaving the door open in her distress.
Mutta put her work down and sighed. “Inga, close the door please.” She waited as the flustered girl did as she was told; in fact, Mutta was stalling for time. “Inga, he needed to feed, the winter has tired him out, you said so you
rself. Maybe he just had to go because the need became too strong. We don’t know how it affects him.” She tried to placate the girl who was evidently more upset that he hadn’t said goodbye, not that he’d gone.
Inga nodded, beginning to calm down. “He did say that he’d go at the next moon and you’re right, he was struggling, but he wouldn’t take anything from me.”
“Quite right too,” Mutta exclaimed. “He explained why he wouldn’t at the time and we’ve had this conversation. With that in mind, it’s no wonder he left.”
“Do you think he’ll be back soon?” Inga asked.
Mutta thought about it. Maybe not, she decided. But she didn’t say that, instead she assured the girl and set her to work to distract her from her woes.
She wasn’t completely sure why Goodman had gone so suddenly, but she had a pretty good idea. It was probably mostly to do with hunger and the temptation to feed, but there was possibly another longing which had prompted this speedy departure. They’d spoken and reached an understanding before the moon had gone and she suspected that he’d left to remove himself from Inga to avoid influencing her decision and to give them both time to work out how to solve the tangle of conflicts that existed between them. It was typical of the honourable behaviour that she’d come to expect from the seizer, because she had a feeling that if he hadn’t, things might have come to a head quite soon, and Inga would have been caught in the middle.
Chapter Twenty Seven
Cimon sat at Livia’s table and finished the scroll he was writing to Cyrus. He’d been in the spa town six months now, mostly staying with Livia, though not exclusively.
He told himself that he’d left to feed, but the situation around Inga was getting too intense for him and he didn’t want to make an enemy of Mutta, who he liked and respected. The enforced separation in the winter had made his desire for Inga impossible to keep under control, but he was determined to do this properly, by not influencing her or forcing her to choose in any way. She either remembered what had been between them or she didn’t. It was up to her to find him now and if she did, then he had to believe that the gods would find a way.
So he’d stayed at the small town built around the hot springs, taken back his clients and set up a stall next to Livia again at her insistence for the extra trade he brought to her. Cassius’s legion had moved on and he wasn’t sure if he was glad or disappointed about that, but there were always soldiers around who had an interest in Greek medicine.
The scroll he was writing was in response to one from Cyrus, who’d written again urging him to come home if things didn’t work out. Home: the word resonated in his mind. Being with the three of them was home to him, but he couldn’t go, he hadn’t finished and given up here yet. Inga wasn’t beyond his reach this time, he still hoped that she would remember, he’d seen flickers of it, the merest shadow, but as long as it was there, there was a reason to stay. And then if they got that far they’d have to face Mutta and the dilemma of her path in life. So nothing was easy, even if one part fell into place. Though, there was a solution for that, which Mutta didn’t know about, so it might not be a problem for long and Inga could still be her successor.
He scattered some dust over the wet ink and blew, collecting it again in the pot. Happy that it was dry he rolled the scroll and set it aside for sending later. Then he turned around in the wooden chair to check that Livia was still asleep. She lay naked on the bed with her back to him. Which was more beautiful, he thought, the valley at this time of year or Livia lying there resplendent in all her natural glory?
He smiled to himself and turned back to the table, noticing the pile of money he’d made today. Livia had made him charge more for his services this time. She‘d pointed out that they knew him now and so the Roman matrons would be willing to pay extra, and she’d been right. He’d charged more and they’d paid.
He ran his hands through his hair as an uncomfortable feeling skated across his thoughts. That was why he was staying away from Inga, he was applying similar psychology with the girl. Oh, he told himself that he was being honourable by removing himself from the situation, but his absence was forcing her into a position where she had to address her feelings and the fear that he might not return. It was clever and at first he’d refused to acknowledge he was doing it, but as the weeks had passed and he hadn’t returned when he usually did, he couldn’t deny his motives any more. It was the mercenary in him, utterly ruthless, and smiling whilst he robbed you blind. And Mutta wouldn’t have a clue, thinking that he was being honourable and altruistic.
He stood, reluctant to remind himself of the game he was really playing; it was so much easier to believe that he was keeping away for both their sakes. It was uncomfortable to acknowledge the other side of himself; he was immensely grateful it was there, but it didn’t make for an easy life sometimes.
Cimon walked softly over to the bed, sat down on the edge and peered over at Livia.
“Are you asleep?” he asked quietly.
Livia opened her eyes. “If I was, I wouldn’t answer.” She sat up. “Sometimes you are stupid. Like the way you make money. I don’t understand that.” Cimon shrugged, he was used to her abuse by now, enjoyed it even.
She looked at him. “You have finished your scroll, which is why you now want sex. Yes? ”
He grimaced at the way she said it and for once she saw his reaction. “That is what you want and why you came and sat here. I am only stating the truth. Why is that wrong?”
He was irritated and he didn’t have the tolerance or patience to explain. “It doesn’t matter, go back to sleep. I’ll see you at the stall,” he said getting up.
“Why are you going? Have you changed your mind?” she asked as he began to walk away. “A shame, it would’ve been a pleasant way to spend the night. Maybe it would’ve helped me to sleep in this heat. Make sure that you close the door properly,” she instructed as she lay back down again with her back to him.
Cimon paused and stared down at her, utterly bemused by the puzzle that was Livia.
“If you are staying, then stay, Greek, just make up your mind,” she told him. “No wonder you were conquered by the Romans, you can’t decide what to do. One minute one thing, the next another,” she muttered to herself.
That decided him. Cimon carried on towards the door and went out, closing it firmly behind him. He really wasn’t in the mood for Livia’s abrasiveness tonight.
***
Inga raced through the firs as fast as she could. He was finally back, it was past summer, the leaves were beginning to fall and he was late. Later than he’d ever been before, he usually came back after a couple of moons in the west, but it had been over eight. Part of her had despaired of him returning; only Mutta had been convinced he’d come back, but she’d been very quiet on the subject and Inga suspected that she knew more than she was prepared to say.
She burst out onto the sunlit summit and saw him squatting at the entrance of the dwelling. One of his bags was by his side with its contents spewed around it. Already he’d a fire going and the frame was sitting on top waiting for a pot.
“Goodman, you’re back!” she shouted as she rushed towards him. She saw him stand and smile in welcome. She’d missed him so much, and she’d been so worried that he’d finally gone for good.
He opened his arms and she ran into them and hugged him, enjoying and revelling in the feeling of his familiar coolness and strength. She felt his arms come around her and squeeze, holding her tightly to him. Finally she was happy again.
After a few moments she wiggled herself free and was about to admonish him for being gone so long, but the look in his eye stopped her in her tracks. It made her heart beat faster and the senses inside her soar to the surface. She knew that look, she’d seen it in her dreams, seen it from the young man in the olive grove, and he’d had that same hot but wary look in his eyes.
She knew what it meant, and what came next, she’d dreamt about it so many times, but this was different. It
was real and not a phantom she could make disappear when she opened her eyes. He was still watching her, with the same look he’d had before when she offered herself to him to appease his hunger. She bit her lip, not sure what she wanted to happen, but not willing to stop it either. Unsure and shy, she placed her hand on his chest and took a step closer.
Hesitantly, she reached up to touch his cheek and brushed his lips with a kiss. She could feel his breath on her lips and the hesitation; he was holding back, trying to resist her, but not having the strength to pull away completely.
With her heart pounding in her chest, she slid her fingers into his hair, which was surprisingly soft, then opened her lips to kiss him again. This time she felt a slight response, which encouraged her hands to explore with more confidence. Suddenly he stirred, as quickly as a wild animal. His hand came up and cupped her head and his lips returned her kisses. Inga was lost, the sensations and thrill that filled her body were all consuming, and any restraint was thrown to the wind as she pressed herself into him and felt his other hand come around her to hold her tightly against his body.
In an instant they were intertwined, she didn’t know it happened, but it had, and she was responding to his lead, learning and discovering. She didn’t care if it was wrong, she didn’t want to stop, this felt right, and it was what she’d wanted to do so for so long. She longed for him to do the things that only happened in her dreams; so many times the shepherd boy had turned into Goodman and now it was coming true. With renewed enthusiasm she pushed herself into him and felt his hands move across her body. This was her shepherd come to life, finally she would know it for herself.