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married several honey moons ago, just after the Solstice, when the honey had fermented into fine ceremonial mead blessed by Fufluns, the god of wine. Tetia had looked so wonderful as her father accompanied her from his hearth to Teucer’s. So perfect.
    He tethers the horse and walks inside. ‘Tetia, I’m back.’
    She is speechless. Sitting by the hearth. The fire out.
    Teucer falls to his knees. Blows hard into the ash. Silver flakes fly from the dry twigs. They both know the fire must never be allowed to die - the deity that lives there has prohibited it.
    She puts a hand on his back. ‘I don’t know what happened. I’m sorry.’
    Teucer removes the fresh wood that has failed to burn. He puts his hand to the ash. It is cold. Several hours have passed since it felt the comfort of flames.
    The fire is dead.
    It is an omen - a dark one. Such disrespect and neglect for a deity inside the home will be punished, they can be sure of it.
    CAPITOLO VI
    A new day brings a new dawn and a new fire in Teucer’s hearth.
    But not a new start.
    Today, he and Tetia did not sit together and watch the sunrise. They did not even sleep together last night. Instead the netsvis tended the flames, feeding wood into the deity’s hungry hearth, hoping for forgiveness, struggling with dark thoughts.
    He looks across at his wife as she sleeps in the skins that cover their bed. Her long black hair is spread out like the damaged wings of a fallen raven. Her peacefulness draws him to her and reminds him of their love. He places more kindling on the fire and walks over to the bed. He slips in beside her and holds her from behind. His hands touch her bloated stomach. He fights back a wave of repulsion and resists the urge to move them. ‘Tetia, Tetia, are you awake?’ She sleepily murmurs something in response. ‘I need to talk to you.’
    Her eyes stay closed. ‘What?’
    Teucer moves one hand and strokes hair from her face. ‘Tell me - I won’t be angry - is the child mine?’
    She can’t help but flinch. ‘It is yours. It is mine . And it is ours .’ She pulls away from his hand.
    ‘That’s not what I asked. You know what I meant.’ He hears her sigh. ‘We have to talk about this. Are you carrying the child of the man who raped you?’
    For a moment she says nothing. She gathers the skin covers and sits upright, her slender back against the cold wall, her hair falling like dark rain over her shoulders. ‘Teucer, I don’t know.’ She sounds exhausted. ‘I know only that we are having a child and I pray to the gods that it is yours and that it is healthy.’
    His eyes are full of challenge as he steps away from her. ‘And if I am not the father?’
    She looks exasperated. ‘Then you are not the father.’ She looks away and stares at a twist of light streaming through the woven walls of the hut. She turns back to him, reaches out a hand. ‘Teucer, it is still our child. We will still love it, raise it and make it our own.’
    Hate flashes in his eyes. ‘I will not bring up the child of the monster who raped my wife!’ He steps away from the bed. ‘What comes from evil brings only evil. If the sperm of badness grows inside you, then we must not let it live.’
    Horror spreads across her face. Instinctively, she puts her hands to her stomach. The child is moving, no doubt sensing her fear. ‘Husband, you are angry. Do not say such things.’ She pulls a skin over her shoulders, stands and walks to him.
    Teucer does not move. He loathes himself for his thoughts, for what he just said, for how he feels. But he knows he is right. Tetia wraps the cover around him so it envelops them both. ‘Come and lie with me. Hold me and take me. Let’s try to find each other again.’
    And despite all the anger, he does. He lies with his wife and he lets her kiss him and hold him and put him inside her. He lets her do it because he’s desperate for her, desperate for how things were and how he hopes they will be again. He holds her tighter