Thirty-Five

 

Rosa woke in unfamiliar warmth, though it took her fuzzy head some time to realise why it felt wrong.

"Sir Chase?" she whispered.

A gentle hand touched her forehead. "Does it hurt?" he asked.

"No," she said. "Should it?"

"You flew into a tree and knocked yourself out on a branch, I think, so I brought you back here. I gave you some of the same mead you made me drink to help me heal."

Medicinal mead? No wonder her head felt fuzzy. But it didn't hurt, either, which meant he must have given her a lot.

"What about the wolves?" she asked urgently.

"You shot the big one full of arrows and he collapsed in the snow, dead. The rest of the pack ran off when the lamp oil burned out." Chase paused. "I figured we could go back for the body tomorrow, or whenever, but it was more important to get you home to bed, as I didn't know how badly you were hurt."

She remembered now. She'd been so busy trying to shake the wolf free that she hadn't noticed where she was flying.

"How long was I out?"

If she'd slept through Midwinter Night, the gods of the forest would definitely be displeased.

"Maybe an hour? I came straight here, and gave you the mead, before I even put a fresh log on the fire. It's still burning, look." Chase pointed.

Relief washed over her. It wasn't too late.

"Then we should celebrate," she said, pressing her lips to his.

She half expected him to pull away, but he returned her kiss eagerly, cupping her head in his hand to prolong it.

Rosa let her hand trail down his chest to the hem of his tunic. He wasn't ready for her yet, but a few pumps of her hand and he would be.

"Hey!" Chase pried her hand off his cock. "You've had a lot of mead, Mistress Rosa. I'm not sure you're thinking clearly."

"But it's Midwinter Night," she said impatiently, reaching for him.

Chase jumped out of bed, backing toward the fire with his hands up in a shield against her. "Now, that's no reason to get drunk and give in to all our desires," he said cautiously.

Ha! So Sir Chase the Chaste had been entertaining lustful thoughts for her. Good.

"Of course it does – it's Midwinter Night!" When he still looked mystified, Rosa continued, "Remember when I told you the story about the mead competition between the god of fire and the goddess of winter?"

He nodded.

"They drank so much mead they forgot to name a winner?"

Another nod.

"That's the children's tale my grandmother told me when I was younger. You see, the goddess of winter was a maiden, and all the other gods wanted her for a wife, because she was also a fertility goddess, but she wanted none of them. She was a huntress who hunted alone. They'd all tried to woo her, but failed. The fire god, being a trickster at heart, waited until all the others had given up, and he joined her for a drink when she came back after a long hunting trip. That's when he issued his challenge."

Chase still looked puzzled.

Rosa went on. "They had their contest, each proclaiming the other the winner. And every time they did it, they toasted their win with another cup of mead. Cup after cup, until they'd drunk most of the jars dry. Then the god of fire began to woo her in earnest. Complimenting her on her beauty, her skill at the hunt, anything he could. Then he laid a wager that he could kiss better than she could.

"Of course, the drunk goddess kissed him. She liked it so much that she did it again, and again. Each time they kissed, he gave her a breath of his heat, until she was so hot inside, she took off all her clothes. But they kept kissing, so she started taking off his clothes, because his skin was as hot as hers. He let her do it, until they were both naked.

"Then she insisted upon taking him for a roll in the snow to cool him off. So she took him to the snow in the far north, and beneath him, the snow began to melt until it had formed a pool around him. Then the water began to steam and bubble, turning into a hot spring. So hot the goddess of winter feared for him, so she jumped into the pool to save him.

"She laid his body on the snow, terrified that his body had cooled too much, and tried to use her own body to warm his. Being the trickster he was, he was only pretending to be injured, so he immediately began to respond to her caresses with his own, until their shared passion overcame them both and...they melted the snow around them, which started the spring melt.

"Mortified at what she had done, the goddess went and hid her face, until winter came again the following year. She brought snow down to cover the land, hiding the scene where she'd shared such passion. But at Midwinter, the fire god returned, to share some mead with the goddess, and she wept so many tears of shame, she set off the spring melt again. But her salty tears turned the land barren, where nothing would grow.

"The following year, the fire god arrived early, and hid, where he could see her without being seen. The goddess thought he had not come, and drank the mead alone, bemoaning that the fire god was not there to share it with her, for if she was fated to melt her own snow just thinking about him, it would be better to share passion and make the soil fertile again.

"When the fire god heard this, he jumped out of his hiding place, finished off the contents of her cup, lay her down on the snow, and together they made love with such passion that all the snow melted early, washing away all the salt and making the land fertile again."

Chase was nodding once more. "I wish you could tell this to my brother. Back where I grew up, the sea flooded the land so often that whole swathes of it are lost to salt. He'd happily bow down and kiss your goddess's feet if she would make the soil sweet again."

Her shoulders slumped. He'd missed the point of the story. She would have to explain even more.

"In the villages, most people know the shorter tale, not the full story. The priestesses learn the full story as a novice, when they first spill their maiden's blood at Midsummer." She paused just long enough to see that this wouldn't be enough, then rushed on with, "But they do not graduate from novice to priestess until they have played the part of the winter goddess at Midwinter. First they must make the Midwinter Night mead, which takes a year, and when it is ready, they choose a lover.

"Grandmother said some of them chose a man from among the fire god's priests, or they were paired with a novice priest, but as the new faith took hold and there were fewer and fewer of us, more and more, the priestess picked her own lover. Unless she becomes the High Priestess, a lover is all she is allowed, for that one night of the year, so – "

"What about the High Priestess? Is she allowed to sleep with whoever she pleases?"

Rosa's cheeks glowed red. "No, of course not. On the years when there is no novice, she must take the place of the goddess. She may choose a lover, but as High Priestess, she is allowed to marry, as long as her marriage ceremony is performed in the old way, and only at Midwinter. The High Priestess and her husband reenact the goddess's first night of passion with her fire god lover, while the other priestesses..."

"Dance around naked?" Chase suggested.

Rosa frowned. "If you already knew, why did you make me tell the whole tale?"

Chase laughed. "I meant it to be a joke – I had no idea it would be true. Dancing naked in winter sounds like a good way to lose some toes, or worse. But there are stories, like witches and their broomsticks, that witches like to dance naked in the moonlight. I didn't think it would be wise to ask if it was true."

Rosa let out a breath she hadn't been holding. "All right, then."

Chase folded his arms across his chest. "You still haven't explained what this has to do with you trying to seduce me."

Rosa pressed her lips together. "My grandmother was the High Priestess, and I am still a novice. There are no other priestesses, so I must take the role of the goddess tonight."

Silence swelled between them.

Finally, Chase said, "You want me to pretend to be some pagan fire god, and seduce you outside in the snow?"

Rosa could feel the emphatic NO about to leave his lips.

She forced a smile. "Actually, it doesn't snow much here, and as there isn't anyone else to dance or observe the rites except the gods themselves, maybe they wouldn't mind if this time, the rites take place in a bed." She swallowed. "Please, Sir Chase."