I’m thankful Mosha had the forethought to conceal the mess that was my lower half before her father and his guards came to escort me to the Moot. They eyed me suspiciously but said nothing about finding me in his daughter’s bed. I fixed my clothing and held Mosha’s hand for a moment before following them out the door.

The men led us over bridges that widened more the farther we traveled. The burly men could stand abreast behind the Chieftain as we reached the furthest edge of the village. There, where all the bridges terminated, was a ramshackle dome of ancient, petrified wood that housed the Moot since the Glade encountered other peoples. Armed men were already gathering outside the building in anticipation for the meeting.

The guards let us inside upon seeing the Chieftain and I was led away from those I knew to sit in a chair mounted against the central support brace of the back wall. Bearded men stood with their arms crossed on every side of the room in different groups: the clans sworn to Mosha’s father.

“Chieftain. We await you. And the captive.”

The meeting chamber greeted him as one. They were proud but they respected the man as their leader. He nodded to each or the clan leaders and took his place in front of his bannermen. Mosha stood beside him and looked as cheerful as could be, waving to me like I was going to receive a reward rather than a sentence of life or death.

“Clan leaders. Let us begin the Moot.”

The Gladers appreciated the drama in saving the best for last, it seemed. The monthly accounts and tallies were read aloud to everyone. Small issues brought before the leaders were settled. The sighting of a man fleeing hounds through a swamp inhabited by a notorious witch. Only after these matters were addressed did they acknowledge the knight in the room. Disgraced knight, but more knightly than any of them.

“The final business of the Moot. The knight my daughter wishes to marry. Stand, John Eel.”

“My lord Chieftain. I stand before you no longer a knight, but a potential bannerman, if you would have me.”

The clan leaders looked at each other and the Chieftain to gauge the others’ reactions. The Chieftain smiled slightly but made it clear his opinion was far from set.

“I would appreciate a man of your skill in my clan. Mosha told me about your fight with the forest sneaks. However, I am concerned by what could happen if I were to send you out against an enemy village. Would you fall to the dirt with the first peasant girl you find? Mosha was your prisoner before you were partners out there in the wood. You were betrothed to a princess and still your desire drew you to my daughter.”

Mosha shrugged and appeared unbothered by the statement. I was worried because he had a point. I was to wed the daughter of the King, and I threw it away to lie with a rough looking woman of the Glade.

“Chieftain, It is true I was to marry the Princess. Honorable pacts aside, I had no association with the woman. I knew her brother and her father, but I had only seen the lady. But I saw Mosha too, and knew if I didn’t haul her to the dungeons, I would have to haul her back to my home instead.”

Men chuckled but the Chieftain waited for me to finish.

“I spoke with her, and learned about who I thought was my enemy. Although it took a scrap and hiding behind a tree from a furious archer, I realized the love for her that was beginning to grow inside me. I have never met anyone like Mosha. She is fierce and unafraid. She tells me what she believes. I believe we should be together, And if that means slaying that peasant girl to earn my keep, so be it.”

“I’ve been trying to marry Mosha off for years, and she always gets out of it. To have her come back here and present you to me as her chosen husband, I believe she really wants this. But as all know, it is not the daughter’s choice whom she marries.”

The clan leaders nodded in agreement. I noticed Mosha finally looked somewhat concerned.

“I am familiar with the father’s right as matchmaker and respect your decision.”

The Chieftain signaled toward the doorway, and a couple of his men left the building.

They returned moments later with Dolo, the seer. She took her place beside the Chieftain who held her hand up gingerly before presenting her to the assembled. She scanned the room with her all-seeing eyes until she found me. Her gaze intensified into a stare, and I knew she was looking into my soul.

“This is Dolores. Caretaker of my house, and seer of premonitions future and past. I trust in her judgement wholly, and I call upon her to judge this man fit, or unfit for my daughter’s hand.”

He nudged her forward and she shuffled over to me. Her hands shook until they found my face, her fingers growing steady as they traced my features. She smiled and would be cooing if she made any sound while her fingers danced over my temples.

My mind felt lighter, unburdened, after she finished. I hoped she had not spirited away parts of me forever, that it was only an effect of whatever power she was using on me. I found myself lost in the black of her pupils. They took up most of her eye, so that only a thin ring of cold blue remained.

The clansmen watched silently. I couldn’t tell if they had never witnessed this before or if it awed them every time they did.

The sound of breathing returned to the room and she was finished. Her hands slid off my face and the shaky, unsteady haze of the old woman returned. She waddled over to the Chieftain’s waiting arm and the room waited for her verdict.

“This man captured Mosha, and then her heart. He shall wed her tonight. His destiny lies not with his kingdom nor with their princess, but ours.”

All eyes shifted to the Chieftain. He threw his arms open and smiled wide.

“The seer has spoken. He lives to marry my daughter. We shall see if he lives to father any children! Embrace me, John Eel, and part John Bramble of the Glade!”

The clansmen stomped their feet and crowed loud as I was taken in the Chieftain’s deceivingly strong grip. Mosha crowed with them and pulled me into her arms from her father.

“I knew it John! I knew you would live!”

“I live for you now, Mosha. Your father will make short work of me if I let you down. I owe you and Dolo my life.”

The old woman said nothing but smiled her echo of a smile.

The Gladers kept their word and the wedding festivities were laid out. Kegs were rolled into the Moot Hall. Tables and stools were carried in and set on the meeting floor for the moderate feast carried in by the clans’ wives. Mosha and I were sat down and passed a plate before the rest of the village crammed in and got a share and a seat.

“So was that the wedding? It was even more sequential than I thought.”

Mosha nodded, her mouth filled with her last bite of the wing of whatever formerly feathered creature the Glades was home to.

A tune started, stringed instruments and a small pipe played from some corner of the room, their jaunty sound bouncing off the rounded ceiling.

“What happens after this? Do we get a home? Do we have to build one?”

“No, we don’t have to build it! My father will find us a vacant one and you’ll find a profession.”

“Would I be able to continue to be a fighter?”

“Most likely. No one else here has a knight’s training. That will be tomorrow, though. We still have the rest of the night to get through.”

“Oh? What comes after the feast? I have to learn everything you already know about the Glade, like a child.”

Mosha scooted closer to me and laid her foot over mine. Her eyes took on a sultry air and she bat her lashes at me, slowly, ever so suggestively.

“We have to consummate the marriage, John. So eat up!”

And with that she knocked her shoulder into me and dug back into her wing. I could only gulp and begin to anticipate what awaited me in our wedding bed. Nevertheless I did as she said and ate my fill, for my wife was a wise woman.