Farming for Courage - Chapter 1 - A'mara Books

1

(Terraday -
early Kominari – 852 T.C.E.)

near Ke’oya, Kasago

.
A soft oath was uttered from the other end of the stall where Ek-ul Forester had just hit his thumb with a hammer.

At the other end, Marc’la Forester watched Torsten Sago as he held tightly to the harness holding the massive juvenile caballus out of the way. The colt’s curiosity knew no bounds, frequently getting Friendship on Fire into trouble.

A snap of a broken strap cracked through the air followed by Torsten’s louder oath at the pain of being hit by a loose line of leather. Marc’la could see that his arm smarted, but the man didn’t have time to do anything other than try to regain control of the animal.

“Fof! You shithead!” he swore at the young caballus who snorted and scampered to the far end of the large stall, causing Ek-ul to stop working.

“I told you!” Marc’la said from the side.

“Ta yoo!” the toddler in her sling echoed.

“Shut up, Karlun!” Torsten growled. “If he takes after his mother, then I will never have any peace!”

Marc’la giggled merrily, knowing that Torsten was only half-serious. “You’d better watch your mouth then, Torsten. Or Karlun will be repeating those too!”

“Would serve you right!” he teased with a playful glare. From the moment he’d joined the staff at the farm – on the advice of his cousin, Yo-te, who lived on the neighboring farm – the colt had caused him problems.

Marc’la sometimes jested that Friendship’s name was shortened to Fof – for ‘Full of Fun.’

Ek-ul said it was ‘Full of Frolic.’

But Torsten, who did most of the work with the colt, called him ‘Full of Frustration’ or worse when he didn’t think Marc’la could hear. She was pretty sure she knew what he called the colt when she wasn’t around – and she admitted that the fiery-colored animal might even deserve it. Still, she didn’t want Karlun learning such words just yet! It wouldn’t reflect well on her skills as a mother, for sure!

Torsten managed to grab hold of the large animal – already completely capable of crushing a human to death – and pull him away from where Ek-ul was hammering on a loose board.

A long minute later, Ek-ul stood and meandered over to Marc’la, greeting her with a kiss. She parted her lips to encourage more, his tongue quickly taking up the invitation to deepen the connection. His hands felt around the sling to smooth along her soft fleshy mounds, teasing the budded nipples through her clothing. “I want you!” he growled quietly.

“Me too!” Marc’la agreed, wishing they could get away for a few minutes to satisfy the growing need between her legs, where she knew her panties were already moist with desire.

Torsten made a choking noise. “Yuck! You two go, get a room!” he teased.

“Yuk!” Karlun sang from the sling, now between his parents.

Marc’la giggled, Ek-ul started chuckling and Torsten joined in – as did Karlun with his own shrieks of giggles.

“Karlun, why don’t you hang out with me for a bit while we let your mommy and daddy work on making you a little brother,” Torsten offered.

Marc’la didn’t reply, but Karlun already squirmed to get out of the sling. She lifted him down and watched him run to Torsten. She had been pleasantly surprised with how Torsten and Karlun had taken to each other.

“He understand so much!” Marc’la said with wonder. “Everyone comments how he’s so far ahead for his age.”

“He must take after his mother,” Ek-ul said, kissing her again. Marc’la met his kiss eagerly, encouraging more. He broke off and added hoarsely, “I guess we should go upstairs or something.”

Marc’la smiled her agreement.

Torsten shook his head. “I still can’t believe you waited eight years for him, Marc’la!”

“True love,” Ek-ul said, putting his arm around her. He steered her towards the farmhouse, up the slight hill.

Just before they got to the farmhouse door, the dogs started barking. First, timid Zafran, then Gulyan joined in… then, all five were barking to announce a visitor. Even Yo-te’s dogs next door joined in.

Marc’la turned around and watched as a caravan of three coaches, each pulled by a caballlus, pulled up her long drive. The first two pulled regular coaches, the third pulled a livestock carrier.

“Expecting anyone?” Ek-ul asked.

“No!” Marc’la replied, as surprised as anyone.

Gulyan ran down the drive, still barking madly. The others hung back, but kept barking as the three carriages rolled up the driveway, stopping in front of the largest barn – where Marc’la kept her caballus – close to the house.

Marc’la stood waiting, ready to greet anyone who came out. Ek-ul was half ready to defend the farm if it came to that, she could feel. Torsten stood next to the barn, holding Karlun’s hand, also watching the events unfolding.

“Sadoza!” Marc’la called to the large, black-haired dog, who came to her side. The dog wouldn’t attack unless it was absolutely necessary, but Marc’la knew that she would, if it came to that.

A man with blue hair and a beard along with a heavily-pregnant, purple-haired woman were the first to get out. The man approached while the woman stood next to the coach door. Gulyan went beserk again, growling his warning.

“Gulyan, enough!” she shouted. The dog quieted, but stayed on guard.

“He’s a good dog,” the man complimented, then looked from Torsten to Ek-ul to Marc’la, as if unsure who to address. “We are looking for Marc’la… niece of Marosio Muran.”

“Speaking,” Marc’la said, approaching the stranger. “What did you want with me?”

“I’m Ek-ul Forester, Marosio’s chola,” Ek-ul introduced.

“Forgive me, I wasn’t aware of the chola residing here,” the blue-haired man said. “I’m known as Zilan. I was sent here with a very special delivery.” He nodded to the purple-haired woman who was now opening the coach door.

Four children emerged, looking apprehensive, but also looking around curiously. Gulyan growled.

Marc’la felt quite confused. “I don’t understand,” she finally said.

“Nor I,” Ek-ul said. “Who are these children?”

“Marosio’s children,” Zilan replied simply, as if that should have been obvious.

“But he didn’t have children!” Marc’la said. “I would have known!”

“There was a woman,” Marc’la’s mother said as she joined them, hurrying with her walking stick. “Marosio loved her. I wasn’t aware of their children though. I take it she’s passed on?”

Zilan nodded. “We did the research. These are, indeed, the children of Marosio and Tarja Muran. I was told that Tarja specifically requested that the children come to Marosio’s niece in Kasago. Are you able to fulfill her wishes?”

“Of course,” Marc’la replied instantly, her heart filling with an unexpectedly intense love. “I wouldn’t turn down my uncle for anything!”

The young woman with the purple hair smiled. “This is your family,” she explained to the children.

“I’m your cousin, - Marc’la,” she explained. “My husband, Ek-ul. Our son, Karlun, is with our herdsman, Torsten.” She pointed to the toddler.

“We are pleased to meet you, of course,” the elder boy said who definitely resembled her uncle. “I’m Ervin.”

“Tinley,” the elder girl said. Marc’la thought she looked a lot like some of the family pictures of her mother as a young girl.

“After me!” Marc’la’s mother cried. Marc’la noticed her mother’s face was stained with tears. “Tinley, I’m your Aunt Tinley!”

The girl immediately hugged the old woman.

“And the others?” Marc’la asked.

“The twins are Marnie and Yewan,” Ervin explained.

“Yewan,” mused Ek-ul. “That’s the man who taught Marosio – and finished up my education after Marosio died.”

“Nice man,” Marc’la’s mother replied. “I hope his namesake is just as lovely!”

The younger children did not speak or hug. Marc’la could feel that they were still traumatized by the loss of their mother.

“Who wants to help me work the caballus?” Torsten asked, joining them and sending Karlun back to Marc’la. She was grateful that he broke the silence.

“I love caballus! Mom wouldn’t let us have any,” Ervin said.

More people got out of the caravan. A couple of men and three women, Marc’la noticed, wondering what their story was and how on Terrenden her family could put them all up! The planned-for extension hadn’t even been started!

“Where do we deliver the livestock?” The blonder man asked.

“Livestock?” Marc’la asked, feeling bewildered.

“I hope you don’t mind, cousin!” young Tinley said. “They said we could bring them.”

Marc’la laughed. “Of course!” she replied, looking at Ek-ul. “How are we going to house more livestock right now?!” she asked.

“The same way we’re going to house four more children!” he replied.

“My cousins!” Marc’la reminded, then looked over the arrived group, feeling somewhat helpless. “I’m sure we’ll figure out something!” she supposed.

“We always do,” Ek-ul reassured before shaking his head in wonder. “Marosio had children!”