Olan Thorensen - Cast Under an Alien Sun

“We grew up on neighboring farms. His family had three boys and mine were three girls. There were few other farms in the area at that time. My sisters and I grew up with those three boys, the only other children we’d see for months at a time. One of the boys, Cynwin, I wanted to marry, but my sister Dellia got a commitment from him first.” Bronwyn laughed. “If I didn’t love Dellia so dearly, I’d have hated her. The next son was Murdrew. He was my second choice and, truth be told, just as reliable as his older brother. So I married him.”

“Did the other son also marry your other sister?”

“No. He died in a horse fall while taking part in a search for Eywellese intruders in northern Keelan. My other sister married and lives near Caernford, which is just as well, since I could never stand her. Dellia and Cynwin live a mile from here. When our parents died, the land was divided among their three daughters. Luvolia sold her section without even asking whether Dellia and I could somehow buy it—the bitch. Dellia and Cynwin have three children already.” The last words were wistful. “I love visiting them and the children, but every time I see them, I’m reminded of being childless.”

Yozef thought for a moment, then said, “It’s not just you who has this problem. It seems to be an issue throughout Keelan Province and maybe all of Caedellium.”

Bronwyn nodded sadly. Neither spoke for several minutes, each in a private world. Yozef mulled over Bronwyn’s dilemma, forgetting for a moment his relationship with her, when a stray thought coalesced in his mind.

“Looking at it from the perspective of the entire island, and given the trends, there may be one obvious solution, although a difficult one. If there are too many women for the number of men, some men could have more than one wife.”

Bronwyn shifted uncomfortably in her chair. “I’ve heard of that happening elsewhere, but what does the Word say?”

“As explained to me, the Word doesn’t forbid it but demands husband and wife treat each other with love and respect, and of course, the primary responsibility is to care for children. Such marriages don’t seem to happen often here in Keelan, though supposedly it’s a more common practice in other provinces.”

Bronwyn shook her head and had a sour expression. “What woman wants to share a house and a husband with another woman? I certainly would never agree to that.”

“I didn’t say it was a good solution, just a possible one. Back to ourselves, and just to help me be sure I understand everything, our bedding will continue as long as we both want it. If a child results, you’ll raise the child, and I’ll provide support, but we don’t expect a long-term relationship between the two of us?”

“Of course, that’s understood.” She stood up and moved to the stove. “I believe the stew is ready, so we can eat,” she said matter-of-factly.

So much for a big dramatic scene. And how about the nice weather today? It made for comfortable fence mending and manure shoveling.

But a child? He hadn’t been sold on Julie and he having one so soon, and now this. He was confused. Maybe nothing would happen. She had been married several years and had only gotten pregnant once, so it might not happen with him.

They continued as before and never spoke about the topic again, but during the next five sixdays, the nights they spent together decreased from four nights a sixday to three, then two, and finally Yozef arrived at the farm after they hadn’t seen each other for a complete sixday. A cart hitched to two horses was tied to the front rail. As he rode up, Bronwyn came out the house to meet him.

Her face was serene. “Please come inside, Yozef, I have something to tell you and some people for you to meet.” She took his hand and led him inside. A man and a woman about Bronwyn’s age sat in the main room. The woman looked like a chunkier version of Bronwyn.

“Yozef, this is my sister Dellia and her husband, Cynwin. As I told you, they live nearby.”

Yozef nodded, said a greeting to them both, and clasped an offered forearm with Cynwin.

The four of them sat in a circle, Bronwyn opposite Yozef, Dellia and Cynwin flanking Bronwyn. His fleeting thought was that he faced a threesome.

“Yozef, I thought about what you said about marriages with more than one wife. At first, the idea seemed impossible, but the more I thought, the less impossible it seemed. Then, three days ago I went to my sister, and we talked.”

Dellia’s and Bronwyn’s hands reached out to each other as if magnetized. Dellia smiled softly at her sister.

“Dellia spoke with Cynwin, and the three of us have agreed with what you said. We are to be married. Dellia, Cynwin, and me.”

Dellia spoke for the first time. “Bronwyn and I have always loved each other dearly, even as young children. As happy as I’ve been married to Cynwin, I’ve missed her every day. When Bronwyn spoke to me about this, it seemed the right thing to do.”

Cynwin reached from the other side of Bronwyn and took her other hand. “Two wives are not something I ever thought of. Certainly not with a wife as good as Dellia, but we both love Bronwyn. And Dellia’s right, the more the three of us talked about this, the more natural it seemed. Dellia will have her sister with her. There will be more children and more parents to raise them. There’s also the farms. Both ours and Bronwyn’s are good farms, and by joining them together, it’ll be easier to tend the sum than both by themselves.”

From their body language, Yozef had already suspected what he had just been told. He sat quiet and ambivalent, though relieved that the inevitable end to the affair was easy for him and good for Bronwyn.

“Yozef,” said Bronwyn, “there’s something else. I’m with child. I suspected as much the last two sixdays when my time passed and I didn’t have the bleeding. Now there’re other signs, so I’m sure.”

Yozef sat immobile, his mind churning over the possible having become real. What did he feel? What should he be saying?

“We’ll raise the child in our new family, and it will have many brothers and sisters. It’ll also have four parents, since we hope you’ll always be part of the child’s family and our friend.”

They talked for another hour, mainly about the anticipation of the three, how Yozef would see the child as often as he liked, and Yozef pretending to take all of this in stride, while part of him watched the four of them like a disembodied observer. He remembered little of what he said in that hour, but whatever it was, the other three took it well. When he left to return to Abersford, a hundred yards from the house he turned from his saddle to look back. Three figures stood on the porch, arm in arm and waving. He waved and urged Seabiscuit into a grove of elms, as the farm disappeared from view. The road was dark most of the way, with enough light from the larger moon and the stars to let him and Seabiscuit stay on the road. There was little wind, all wildlife had settled in for the night, and everything was quiet, except for hooves on the dirt road. It took an hour and a half to get back to his house in Abersford. It was the loneliest hour and a half of his life.

Yozef lapsed into a funk. He had thought the relationship with Bronwyn was only physical, but once it ended, emotional ties lingered.

No one asked, but his increased presence and the absence of Bronwyn told everyone he was once again solitary. As a palliative, he plunged with a vengeance back into projects delayed by the time diverted on the affair. Within a month, he slipped back into his life before Bronwyn. He spent most days in his shops, attended lectures at St. Sidryn’s, had talks and walks with Cadwulf, Sistian, Diera, and others at the abbey complex, drank beers with Carnigan and Filtin at the Snarling Graeko, and, to his initial consternation, deflected overtures from more widows.