Writing for Fun
May 2019
The Proposal - Nomads Pt. 3 - Maureen Rampersaud
Gertie tended her daughter’s wound with poultices of healing plants. The boar’s tusk had made a deep gash in Gwen’s thigh and Gertie prayed that there would be no lasting damage. Tom hovered around looking anxious, she was quiet and thoughtful, not at all like his Ma.
Owen came regularly with meat for them, always taking the opportunity to ask Gertie about the invalid’s progress. Sometimes Jenny came over with her Pa to help with the chores and Tom was delighted that she always asked to see his latest wood carving. One evening when Tom was warming himself by the fire, Owen appeared with a rabbit slung over his shoulder.
‘We may have to move camp soon. Utlagis are heading this way, I saw their fires from Three Tree hill. Where’s Gertie?’
‘She’s looking for some special herbs that are best picked by moonlight.’
Owen looked disappointed and was about to leave, when Gwen called from her tent, ‘Aren’t you coming to talk to me then? . . . I haven’t got the plague!’
Owen and Tom looked at each other, surprised, this was unusually friendly behaviour for Gwen. Tom mulled over the bad news of the Utlagis proximity, he didn’t want to move, this was the longest they’d stayed anywhere. On the other hand, he didn’t want to be decapitated by those bloodthirsty killers either. Gertie told him that they were disciplined fighters during the war but they’d been driven mad by the unspeakable atrocities they’d witnessed or been subjected to, now they were completely feral with no moral code to constrain them. Tom was aware of the quiet conversation from the tent which seemed to be lasting longer than he expected, then his thoughts took him back to the Utlagis. He concluded that Owen was right, they should move on as soon as possible.
Owen came again the next evening. Gwen noticed that he looked ill at ease as he entered her tent, so she waited for him to speak. ‘Gwen, I didn’t think you liked me but our conversation last night has given me hope. I have a proposal. Your camp should be my camp, my daughter should be your daughter, your son and mother should be my son and mother. I want you, Gwen.’
Outside, round the fire, Jenny whispered to Tom, ‘I think my Pa loves your Ma.’
‘What! Hell would freeze over before she’d take any man again. I pity your poor Pa.’
The tent flap opened and Owen emerged, grinning, carrying Gwen towards the fire. Gwen announced, ‘From now on we’re one family.’
Later, when he’d recovered from the shock, Tom whispered to Gwen, ‘Ma, when did you fall in love with Owen?’
Gwen smiled, ‘About the time that I realised that we’d starve without him!’