“Ah . . . is there any problem with . . . ah . . . illnesses passed between a man and a woman when they have sex?”
“Diseases?” queried Filtin. “Why would there be? Sex between men and women is natural. Why would God design diseases to prevent it?”
“Oh, just wondering,” said Yozef. So, no STDs came along with the transplantation from Earth. I wonder whether that was planned or a side effect of sampling from small, isolated populations? Of course, with those nanomachines or whatever, that wouldn’t supposedly be a problem for me, anyway.
“What about relations between two people who are already married to others?”
Filtin grunted. “That’s different.”
Cadwulf agreed solemnly. “There might be room for different interpretations of women and men outside of marriage, but the Word is very specific once you’re married. To violate the marriage bed is a major sin.”
Filtin nodded agreement. “And for even the less observing people of the Word, there’re the practical implications. Inheritance goes through children of the couple. Children from infidelity can be excluded from inheritance. Husbands can divorce their wives if the women have been unfaithful.”
“In theory,” said Cadwulf. “Though if most of the property was originally the wife’s, it reverts to her, so husbands might be hesitant to divorce in those cases and just take it out on the wife by beating her. Another option is to accuse the other man of infringing on the marriage and ask for a monetary penalty. That requires making it all public, shaming everyone involved, and having proof a magistrate will accept.”
“Can a wife divorce a husband for his being unfaithful?”
Filtin looked surprised. “The wife divorcing the husband? That rarely ever happens.”
“Except for cases like you saw in the justice session,” Cadwulf chimed in. “You must understand that in a divorce, unless there are extenuating circumstances, the children and the property of the couple go with the father and his family, if the father demands it. This means that if there are legitimate children, the wife might only ask for divorce if the husband didn’t want the children or any property that once belonged to her. Otherwise, she’d have to go back to her family with no children and no possessions, except her clothing.”
“And you don’t see this system as putting more burden on the woman than on the man?” queried a disgusted Yozef.
Filtin raised an eyebrow. Though he didn’t say anything, Yozef interpreted the expression as, “What are you talking about?” Cadwulf seemed to consider this a novel idea, although he simply said this was the custom.
By now, they’d made almost a complete circuit of the fair and stopped, as they considered what to do next. A stocky woman walked by, nodded to the two Caedelli, and bestowed a longer smile and look at Yozef. He found his gaze lingering as she walked away. Did her hips swing a little more than necessary or was it his imagination? And she wasn’t so much stocky as sturdy, with well-shaped calves and arms. She looked about thirty, with brownish hair somewhat bleached looking, he assumed from the sun, since her face showed weathering with only the beginnings of lines that would deepen with age.
Filtin elbowed Yozef back to attention. “Well, I see you’re not totally oblivious to women. Actually, that one might be a good candidate for you.”
Cadwulf frowned reproachfully at the other man but grudgingly agreed.
“She looks familiar,” said Yozef. “Who is she, and why would she be a candidate, if I was so interested?”
“Her name is Bronwyn Linton,” said Cadwulf. “She sat on the opposite end of our pew during the justice proceedings last week. I mentioned her to you. She owns a good-sized farm north of Abersford.”
“And she’s a widow,” Filtin piped up.
“Her husband died about two years ago in an accident on their farm.”
“And she’s a widow,” repeated Filtin, “who hasn’t bedded a man in those two years, if the rumors are true.”
“She’s attractive enough, and if she owns a good farm, I’d expect there’d be many men interested in her,” said Yozef.
“Remember our talking about the shortage of men,” countered Cadwulf. “She’s a strong woman with good common sense, and there aren’t that many possibilities for her once you rule out married men. I’m not surprised she gave you a good look. The one exception to a woman’s property transferring to a new husband is if they register that agreement. She almost certainly knows who you are, the mysterious stranger who is becoming wealthy and is unmarried. Therefore, she knows there’s more chance she could keep ownership of the farm if you married.”
At that moment, Filtin’s wife with two children in tow interrupted the lesson in Caedellium mating customs. With his free time expired, the family went off to find a midday meal at the food shops. Cadwulf also excused himself as having something he needed do, and Yozef found himself alone again and thinking.
Yozef walked back to his house as the sun set. It had been a good day.
Maybe it was time he admitted this was home. Here and now. Not Berkeley, the United States, or even Earth. Here. Anyar. Caedellium. Abersford. It wasn’t the life he would have chosen, and he’d always miss what he’d lost, but here he made a difference. He had friends better than any he’d ever had on Earth. He was changing the trajectory of Anyar’s future by the knowledge he introduced, even if no one here realized it now or perhaps ever would in his lifetime.
He could see the lights from his house. Elian would have evening meal ready. She had relaxed around him enough to mother him, and even Brak was almost jovial—at times. He would sleep solidly this night, then rise in the morning to fill his day with interesting projects. It was a good life.
Chapter 24: A World beyond Abersford
Yozef accepted himself as introspective. Not that he didn’t enjoy fellowship, but there were always times he needed solitude to settle his mind and emotions. His time on Anyar had focused on the abbey complex, then expanded to Abersford and its immediate surroundings, including his cottage. When he felt the urge for more isolation, he walked the coast and country west of Abersford.
The territory was unpopulated, he assumed due to the rough terrain and lack of roads. At first, he would hike a few miles or more along the coast and inland. During his initial wanderings, he found a cove with a picturesque beach a hundred yards wide. At lower tides, the rocks at the opening of the cove absorbed most of the waves’ power, but during high tides, major surf broke onshore. The combination of gentle low and the more vigorous high tides resulted in the sand being kept within the cove, but every day the beach had at different contour. Rising from the shore, a gentle grassy slope ended two hundred yards at a tree line of mixed Anyar and Earth species.
The first time he stood at the high-tide mark, Yozef decided it was perfect. He guessed the distance at about three miles from Abersford and the abbey; otherwise, he’d have wanted a house right there up against the trees, close enough to hear the surf, but not too close to the sound or spray. While hiking back to Abersford, he decided to investigate how to purchase the land and build a small retreat house.
He frequently returned to the same cove, though as he explored more, he rode a horse. His horse. Carnigan had selected a small gray gelding, assured Yozef a child could ride it, and gave him rudimentary riding lessons—enough to keep Yozef on the horse’s back most of the time.
“Why did you name the horse Seabiscuit?” Carnigan asked the first time Yozef cursed the unoffending animal after falling off.