The Crowded Shadows by Celine Kiernan Page A

come to symbolise what she saw as the man’s unrelenting thoughtlessness. “Marni knew it would devastate my dad,” she said, “to have to hear my mother’s name day after day, but never again see her. She knew that he would never be able to bear it. She refused to call me anything but Wynter. By the time my dad had been fetched home and recovered from his wounds, I must have been five months old. I was almost a year old before the poor man could bear even to look at me. No one called me anything but Wynter by then. Wynter is the only name I ever answered to, Christopher. It is my name.”
    She glanced at him. He was watching her uncertainly, as though he had something to say, but wasn’t sure how she’d take it.
    “What?” she said. “What is it?”
    “It’s a
baby’s
name,” he said.
    She didn’t answer, not certain where he was heading.
    Christopher blushed, his eyes sliding away. “Well,” he said. “Well, it’s just… you’re a
woman
!” He waved his hand at her body, not looking at her. “Don’t you…? Ain’t it…? Gah!” he exclaimed, suddenly irritated. “How can a man be expected to call you by a
baby’s
name? It’s ridiculous! What if some fellow wants to wed you? How could he walk you under the bower with a
baby’s
name hanging over you?”
    Wynter laughed, convinced he was jesting. “Is that what you’d like for me, Christopher Garron?” she asked, not quite teasing. “After all my years training and getting my guild approval? You want me to wed myself to some lad and become a slave to my belly for the rest of my life?”
    “You… That surely ain’t your only opinion of marriage?”
    Wynter snorted sarcastically.
Easy for a man to say
, she thought,
What risk to him, baby after baby for the rest of his days? No man ever died in labour and that’s for certain
.
    “No wife of mine would have a child till she wanted one,” said Christopher softly, and Wynter glanced at him in scorn.
    “Oh aye,” she said. “Like any man would deny himself the pleasure of his bed for the sake of his woman’s belly. How long would that last? A few weeks? A month? What about years? Could you hold yourself for years, Christopher?”
    “For God’s sake,” he shouted, his sudden anger taking her by surprise. “Does no one tell their women
anything
in this place? Don’t you know the pleasure is for the man
and
the woman to enjoy? And there’s no need to deny yourself
aught
! There are ways… there are… Good Frith!” Christopher suddenly leapt to his feet and ducked out from under the bower. He was flushed red with rage and embarrassment, and poor Razi chose that unfortunate time to present himself in his path.
    “You!” yelled Christopher, poking a finger in the shocked young man’s chest. “You ought to be ashamed of yourself! You call yourself a doctor? She’s your sister, for Frith’s sake! And Lorcan! Of all men I’m surprised at him! What’s wrong with you people? Leaving your women floundering around in the dark at the spurious mercies of their men folk! Shame! Shame on you, Razi Kingsson! You should be bloody whipped! Give me that!” He snatched the spade from Razi’s hand. “
Ta’ orm cac a dhéanamh!
” he said, and stormed off into the brush, disappearing quickly into the shadows.
    Razi stood with his hand out, his mouth open. “Whu…?” he said. He turned to look at Wynter. “Huh?” he said.
    Wynter felt herself flush scarlet. It began at her breastbone and rose like a tide to the roots of her hair. Razi’s eyes widened. His voice deepened, and this time he said “What?” with real command.
    Struggling to get a hold of her tangled conversation with Christopher, Wynter took a deep breath and did her best to explain. As she spoke, Razi’s expression changed from wary to tender and by the time she was finished, he had his hand over his mouth, and he chuckled in a kind of mortified amusement.
    “Oh, Wyn,” he said, shaking his head. “Oh.” He laughed