Neck-Lace

Talorc watched the girls standing in the shallows, trying to catch the big fish in their nets. Most of them were spoken for, coupled with older boys. But, nearest the riverbank was Linceta, the prettiest girl of all. Her long, brown hair fluttered in the wind, her blue eyes sparkled in the morning light, her laughter tinkled like birdsong, carried to him on the soft breeze sweeping up from the distant ocean. Gazing at her, he felt the usual longing in his heart. She was so lovely, he just wanted to hold her, take care of her… be with her always. But he didn’t even know how to speak to her. Every time she was near, a terrible paralysis seemed to grip his tongue, leaving him with but two choices: stay silent, or babble like an idiot. Up to now, he had always chosen to stay silent.

The hunt took up most of his days, usually he had little time for anything else. But sometimes they would be lucky and find their prey early, before the sun was at its zenith. On these few, happy days, he had time to himself, time to work on his own little project.

It took him almost a season as he gathered pieces of bone, antlers, shiny stones from the ground, some from the river; polished each of them until they gleamed; and strung them together with strong twine made from the gut of an old stag. Finally, as the days grew long and warm, and a new season dawned, he presented his handiwork to Linceta.

“It is beautiful, but what is it for?”

He bobbed his head, blushing as he plucked up the courage to speak to her at last, “I will show you, if you will let me?”

“Yes, please…” she smiled, “please show me.”

He held his creation up, then reached behind her neck, the two ends of the twine in his hands as he tied them together. When, at last, he was satisfied his knot was secure, he stood back and smiled.

She felt behind her, where the twine was knotted in place, then picked up the objects hanging from her neck and slowly examined them, running her fingers across them, one by one.

“What is it, what does it do?”

“It… it means I think you are the most beautiful of all the girls and… and, I want you to wear it so everyone knows how much I care for you.”

She looked down at the brightest stone on the twine as it shone in the morning sun, holding it in her hand for a long time, marvelling at its beauty. Then, finally, she let it drop onto her chest, as she looked up and smiled, “Thank you, Talorc, I care for you too.”

*

With each day’s rising sun, she found new delight in Talorc’s gift: the way it felt, hanging on her chest, its comforting weight reminding her how he cared for her; the way the stones glistened in the sunlight, like the warm glow of their love; the way it sometimes swayed back and forth when they coupled at night, a sign of their passion for each other. In time, she found a name for it: the objects upon it were laced together by the twine, and it hung around her neck… so she called it Neck-lace.

As the seasons passed, Talorc gave her more gifts. Some, like his first, he made on his own and presented to her. But the most precious gifts were the ones they made together.

*

Linceta stood in the shallows with the other women. It was always hard to catch the fish: they were all fast and slippery; the big ones, the older ones, were cunning and strong too. It was harder than ever now, but she could not complain, for the reasons it was so hard were the greatest blessings of her life… and Talorc’s too.

Their first blessing, Derelei, was playing on the riverbank: a great source of distraction for Linceta as she watched her carefully, frequently having to shout at her daughter, “Stay away from the water.”

Second blessing, Galan, was strapped to her back. He was sleeping soundly, always such a good boy… but he was getting heavier every day. Their third blessing, as yet unnamed, was making her belly fat, which did not aid the task of catching fast, slippery fish.

The woman next to her cried out in alarm. Linceta looked down at the largest fish she had even seen. The monster was thrashing about, fighting to be free of the net. Suddenly, it leaped from the water, knocking her backwards. She sank beneath the surface as she fell, feeling herself being carried rapidly downstream. Remembering Galan on her back, she struggled to find her feet, terrified her precious boy would drown. Anxious moments passed as she fought against the current, her feet slipping on the mossy rocks every time she tried to get a purchase.

At last, she found a rock she could hold onto and was able to use it to haul herself out of the water. She scrambled to the bank and, in desperation, untied the straps holding Galan’s sling and pulled him off her back. His face was blue, he wasn’t breathing. “No-o-o-o,” she screamed and slapped him on the back. He coughed and a jet of vomit shot from his mouth. Then he started to cry and she felt a wave of joy washing over her: for once, the sound that heralded so many sleepless nights was music to her ears.

Looking up, she saw Derelei running towards her. “Are you all right, Momma?” the little girl asked.

“Yes, darling,” she smiled, “I am all right.”

“Maybe you should stay away from the water too, Momma.”

She laughed, “Maybe I should, Derelei. At least until this one is born,” she patted her belly.

Reaching up, she went to rub the stones on Neck-lace, a habit she had fallen into over the seasons. But, to her dismay, she realised it wasn’t there. In a flash, she remembered the fish jumping at her chest, its jaws clamping onto Neck-lace, ripping it from her.

Relief and joy at Galan’s escape mixed with sorrow and an awful sense of loss. She knew she was being foolish, it was nothing compared to her children, but Neck-lace had been very special to her. She started to cry.

*

The fish was struggling to find the mouth of the river. For many seasons, he had swum upstream to the spawning grounds, fathering a great host of fry. He had long ago learned to be wary of the shallows, where the creatures from above laid their traps. He had been caught once, when he was young, but he had learned his lesson, though he had carried a souvenir of that encounter in his belly ever since. It did not trouble him: rather, it was a useful reminder of the dangers that lay upstream.

But this season was different. His eyes were growing dim, his muscles weak, and his sense of direction, always so reliable, was starting to fail him.

He tried to fight against the tide as it carried him inexorably towards the shore, frantically thrashing his tail in the treacherous shoals, gulping for breath as the water receded beneath him. But it was a losing battle… he’d had his last season.

*

She watched the beach from high above, warily checking for the big, two-legged creatures with no wings, or any other predators that might pose a threat. Satisfied at last, she swooped down and landed beside the fish.

Normally, she wouldn’t touch a dead fish. The flesh was often rotten, it tasted bad, and the carcass generally fell apart before she could get it back to the eyrie. But this one was fresh, she’d seen it wash up on the sand only moments before, it was too good an opportunity to miss.

She needed all the food she could find at the moment. Unusually this season, both her eggs had hatched together, almost simultaneously, and both chicks had survived. They were big now, almost ready to fly… and they were very hungry.

Hopping across the sand, she grasped the fish in her talons, then unfolded her mighty wings, and launched into the sky.

The fish was heavy, it was hard work carrying it up into the mountains, to where her eyrie sat perched on the edge of a soaring pinnacle of rock, far above a sparkling stream. But it was worth the effort for the satisfaction of seeing her eaglets digging into the succulent flesh. A couple more meals like this and they would be ready to fly away on their own, her job would be done. What more could any mother want?

As the chicks tore at the fish, she saw something glinting inside as it caught the sun. She pecked at it, wondering what it was. It was hard, too hard to eat. So, she just left it to lie in the bottom of the nest with the other bones.

*

The nest was old, filled with the remains of many long-forgotten meals and, at its base, the strange shiny stones, all strung together, that had always fascinated her. She had been born here, along with her twin brother. Unlike most eagle chicks, they had tolerated each other. It helped that he had flown away to find a mate many seasons ago. She had stayed, taking their mother’s place when her time was done.

She watched the storm approaching. It was bad, possibly the worst storm she had ever known; something told her the eyrie wasn’t safe anymore. As the wind and rain lashed the mountains around her, she was glad the many eaglets she had raised had long since flown the nest.

Reluctantly, she took to the air, leaving the home she had known all her life. She had been gone no time at all when a bright flash lit the sky, followed by the loud, deep rumble of thunder. She looked back and saw her nest tumbling from the precipice where it had perched for so many seasons, falling towards the raging torrent below. At the last moment before it hit the water, the lightning lit the sky once more and she saw the stones that lay in the bottom of the nest glistening in the eerie blue light.

*

Linceta sat by the fire, trying to keep her old bones warm. It got harder every season; she did not expect she would see many more. But that was alright, soon she would join Talorc in the land above the clouds, where their spirits went after the breath left their bodies.

She sighed, sometimes she wished she could join him now, it seemed such a long time to wait. She had lost count of the seasons since his spirit had journeyed to the clouds, but she still remembered his smile, his voice, his touch… and of course the many precious gifts he had made for her. It was a pity she had lost them all in the great flood, it would be wonderful to hold one of them again, to remind her how much they had cared for each other. The tears came to her eyes once more, as they always did when she thought of her lost love.

Looking up, she saw Derelei’s grandchildren playing in the river, and the smile returned to her face. Perhaps not all of Talorc’s gifts were gone, after all. Though she would still like one she could keep beside her at night, to comfort her when her old bones ached in the cold.

Little Linceta, named after her, was squealing in excitement at something she had found in the shallows. “Granna, Granna, come and see what I have got,” she shouted, “it is beautiful.”

“Bring it to me here, little one, my bones ache too much for me to come to the river.”

The little girl scrambled up the bank holding her prize, then ran across the grass and proudly held it out for the older Linceta to see.

Gazing at the stones sparkling in the firelight, the old woman gasped in astonishment. With tears of joy streaming down her cheeks, she reached out and touched the object in the little girl’s hands, slowly running her ancient fingers across it. “Neck-lace,” she whispered, “you came back to me.”

For a while, she tried to understand how this first and most precious of all gifts could have been returned to her. Then she smiled as the answer became clear. She gazed up at the clouds far above, “Thank you, Talorc, I love you too.”