Heart of the Goddess: Chapter One (pt. 2)

DREAMS (part two)

Roon stretched out his hand and scraped his knuckles across a well-worn beam. The loft was hunkered near the slop of the roof and he and his brother had been rubbing the old timber for as long as either could remember.

The raw edge of the dream was fading. “What’s wrong with Old Mother? Why is she red?”

Larin craned his neck for a better look. “I don’t know, but I bet it means something important.”

They gaped through the window for a long time without speaking. As the first gray hint of dawn touched the sky the scarlet hue faded from Old Mother. A shadow seemed to pass from her and the pale blue orb returned to normal.

Roon’s eyes trailed down to his hands. He pressed a finger into the soft flesh between his thumb and index finger, where a perfect little crescent moon birthmark resided. “Larin?”

“Yes, Roon?”

“This birthmark on my hand, it kind of looks like Old Mother did?”

“So? Lots of people have birthmarks. Torbin has one on his shoulder.”

“But his is just a blotchy no-shape thing...nothing special about that.”

Larin yawned again. “I don’t know Roon. The Gods do as they will.”

Roon let the matter drop. He was still a little unsettled about the dream. “The Bad Man frightens me, Larin.”

Larin’s smile faded, his eyes serious. “I know, little brother.” Abruptly, Larin flipped the quilt off of his legs. “We better get up or father will be after us and I know I can't protect you from him!"

Roon giggled, got out of bed and dressed. Minutes later they joined their parents at the table. Father was already half way through his breakfast of eggs, ham and oatmeal, his eyes focused on his plate. "You boys are runnin' late this morning. Candlelight reflected off a bald patch encircled by a fringe of short, graying hair.

"Sorry Father. I had another dream. The Bad Man was there and this woman, Tamina, and-"

Father’s eyes locked with Mother’s for a moment then refocused on his eggs. "Dreams can't hurt you, son." His words were calm, but the furtive glance told another story. Mother pretended not to notice, but Roon knew what he saw.

"But the Man scares me, He's…"

"I'll have no more of this talk. Strange men in little boy's dreams don't get the fields planted."

The words had not been said in a harsh tone but the meaning was clear; no more talk of dreams. Roon slumped in his chair. "Yes, father."

Mother flitted to the table, steaming iron skillet in hand. “You boys need to eat so you can get to your chores.” She heaped a mountain of eggs and a landslide of ham onto Roon’s plate while she stared Father’s direction.

Roon’s eyes grew wide as the food piled higher and higher. “Uh, Mother?”

“Oh! I’m sorry, son. Larin, help your brother with that.” She turned and walked back to the wood-burning stove, leaving the pile of food on Roon’s plate.

Larin divided the food, exchanging questioning glances with Roon. They ate in silence shoveling the food in like a pair of pigs to slop. When they finished they simultaneously pushed themselves back from the table and fled to their chores.