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 E VA B R A N DT

The Warden’s Wolf

Eventide Shifter Prison 1
 Copyright © 2020 by Eva Brandt

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced,

stored or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic,
mechanical, photocopying, recording, scanning, or otherwise without
written permission from the publisher. It is illegal to copy this book,
post it to a website, or distribute it by any other means without
permission.

This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and

incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author's imagination.
Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or
localities is entirely coincidental.

Eva Brandt has no responsibility for the persistence or accuracy of

URLs for external or third-party Internet Websites referred to in this
publication and does not guarantee that any content on such
Websites is, or will remain, accurate or appropriate.

Designations used by companies to distinguish their products are

often claimed as trademarks. All brand names and product names
used in this book and on its cover are trade names, service marks,
trademarks and registered trademarks of their respective owners.
The publishers and the book are not associated with any product or
vendor mentioned in this book. None of the companies referenced
within the book have endorsed the book.

Cover art by Emma Griffin. Cover is for illustrative purposes only.

First edition

This book was professionally typeset on Reedsy

Find out more at reedsy.com
 Contents
The Warden’s Wolf
Hunger
No Weakness
Harvesting
Owned
The Factory
Protector
The Blood Tournament
True Alpha
Leap of Faith
The Truth Behind the Lies
Poison
Children of Blood
Epilogue
About the Author
Also by Eva Brandt
 The Warden’s Wolf

A vampire princess with a secret and a terrifying power. A

werewolf Alpha out for revenge. Imprisoned by a past of
spilled blood, trapped in a vicious circle of hatred, can they
find freedom in the chains that bind them?

I was born cursed—a woman both living and dead, torn between
two worlds and part of neither. My life’s goal has been to serve the
Eventide Blood Clan, fighting the shifters who dared to stand in our
way.

Everything changed when I became a warden at Eventide Shifter

Prison—and when werewolf Wade Hewitt landed in my path. He was
supposed to be my tool, my ticket to defeating my enemies. He
became so much more than that.

He’s my captive and my plaything. And yet, he makes me feel things

I never thought I could feel. He makes me thirst for more than his
blood. My body aches for him.

I might be his mistress, but he is my Alpha. He might be my enemy,

but I am his Omega. We might hate one another, but we are soul
mates. What am I supposed to do now?

The Warden’s Wolf is a 50k words enemy-to-lovers

Alpha/Omega dark romance. It contains dark themes of
dubious consent, imprisonment, and steamy, dirty sex
between a hot as hell werewolf and a kinky vampire
princess. Proceed with caution.

Get the prequel in the limited edition anthology Magic is the New
Black.
 Hunger

Wade

It had all started with the vampires. For as long as I could

remember, our two species had been at war. Werewolves and
shifters were polar opposites, representatives of life and death
respectively. Our conflict had often spilled into the human world, but
even when that hadn’t happened, vampires had preyed on mortals.
It was unclear what had triggered the change in our genetic
makeup. Most species insisted werewolf-human relationships were to
blame, but my people disagreed. Alphas, Betas, and Omegas hadn’t
always been a thing for us either, not biologically, at least. Our
original system was based on the individual strength and role of
each wolf, but we’d never been physically that different.
Recent scholars agreed the shift in biological makeup might have
been Mother Nature’s attempt to save humans from being hunted
down to extinction.
Up to a point, it had worked. The changes had altered their
behavior, abilities and reproductive system. The skills they’d earned
hadn’t really kept them safe from the Blood Clans. But, as a species,
the humans had become more than cattle and less likely to be
slaughtered.
And then, werewolves had started to change, and the other
species had followed. And now, here we were, in a society where
sexual affinities were widespread.
It was a shame that being an Alpha hadn’t helped me much
throughout these past couple of days. If anything, the opposite was
the case.
I lay on the floor of my cell, curled naked in a corner and trying
to not claw my skin off. It was tougher than it should have been. My
self-preservation instincts should have protected me, but everything
about Eventide Shifter Prison was wrong.
There was no light down here, only darkness and suffering. The
scent of death, pain, and blood permeated the air. My wolf clawed at
the back of my mind, snarling and begging to be let out.
Get out. Get out. We need to get out.
I tried to reason with the beast, but it was easier said than done.
I’d never liked fighting myself. And go where? I haven’t found out
much about the prison.
That doesn’t matter. She’s out there. Your mate is out there.
Omega. Sweet Omega. Rhiannon.
Memories flashed through my mind, images of the time I’d spent
with the vampire princess. She had taken me captive in a botched
mission in Paris and brought me here. She’d intended to interrogate
me and use me against my own people. It hadn’t worked out the
way she’d wanted it to.
 Despite being a vampire, she was an Omega. I was an Alpha.
The chemistry between us was so explosive that we’d ended up
fucking like animals. It had been the best sex I’d had in my life, but
it had cost me a lot.
She’d been furious with herself and with me. She’d left me in my
cell, broken and bruised, and had disappeared. I hadn’t seen her in
a week.
She’ll have to come back, eventually, I told my beast. She’ll feel
the pull toward me too.
Or she could find another Alpha. There are plenty of wolves in
this prison alone who’d be more than willing to give her a hand.
The beast was right. Rhiannon might be a vampire, but she was
also impossibly beautiful, her taste and her passion as intoxicating
and alluring as the moon. As a shifter, I might hate her, but as a
man and a wolf, I ached for her. The other prisoners would be no
different.
Snarling, I shifted into my wolf form, tugging on the chains in
frustration. They couldn’t have her. She was mine, all mine, my
Omega.
The silver chains tightened around my paws and the collar tried
to suffocate me. Strangely, I was grateful for it. The toxic burn
reminded me of my true position, of why I couldn’t afford to panic
like this.
Okay, think. They’d never believe I’d given up so quickly, but if I
acted too savagely, they’d continue keeping a close eye on me. If
that happened, I’d never be able to make my move.
 My wolf mind translated that train of thought into a coherent
strategy. Stalk. Wait. Pretend to be wounded. Your Omega needs
you alive. She won’t let you die. They can’t keep you here forever.
Decision made, I settled on a strategy. Vampires tended to think
shifters couldn’t work with complicated, long-term plans, which was
something we’d encouraged. I didn’t appreciate being treated like an
unintelligent animal, but being underestimated had served us well
more than once.
This would take a lot of work, but I could pull it off, if I was
careful and didn’t lose myself to my panic.
And so, I stayed in my wolf form and continued to pace. At first,
I howled, as loudly as I could. My Alpha’s call echoed against the
wall of my cell and spilled into the corridors beyond. The cells
seemed soundproof, but I’d heard vampires walking around outside
occasionally. Even if other prisoners didn’t hear me, my captors
would, and that would work just as well in the long run.
At first, nothing happened, but I didn’t expect it to. Such
behavior was undoubtedly something that could be expected of
recently caught werewolves. The vampires wouldn’t care about my
temper tantrum.
But that was fine. I had a plan now, and I’d stick to it.
For hours on end, I kept pacing and howling. The silver poisoning
was making my head spin and my muscles ache, but I didn’t care
about that. If I could have, I might have even suppressed my
advanced healing factor a little. Pain didn’t scare me.
After what seemed like forever, a vampire finally showed up. He
curled his lip at me in visible disgust, exposing his sharp fangs in a
way he doubtlessly deemed intimidating. “Back off, mutt, if you don’t
want me to tear your throat out on the spot.”
I wanted to laugh in his face. He could try, but it wouldn’t work.
Idiots like this vampire were the same the world over. Stuck in a
position no one wanted, they compensated for their own inadequacy
by using what little power they did have to abuse those weaker than
them.
If things had been different, I’d have loved to show him who was
the predator and who was the prey in this room. But unfortunately,
right now, I was a captive, so I couldn’t hurt him like I wanted to.
The vampire produced a piece of moldy bread and threw it on
the floor in the dust. “Go on then. Let’s see you eat.”
My stomach growled, reminding me I hadn’t eaten in over a day,
maybe more. Rhiannon had fed from me, and my body had been
constantly trying to heal me since I’d been taken captive. I might
have been an Alpha, but I had my limits.
And I was proud, but not proud enough to refuse the only source
of nourishment I’d have in the near future.
But this wasn’t just about my pride, was it? This, too, was a part
of my plan. I struck the bread with my paw, sending it flying toward
the vampire. The guard dodged with ease, but was still infuriated.
“You ungrateful fucking beast. I’m going to teach you a lesson you’ll
never forget.”
The vampire produced a long, silver blade from under his coat. I
instantly recognized the design. Some members of the Eventide
death squads used curved swords with ridges and spikes, intended
to do damage even when they were pulled out of the wound. Once,
it had been the biggest threat to the packs, but we’d gradually
gotten used to them and had learned how to break the blades in
two. The weapons were now obsolete, replaced by firearms and
straighter, faster swords. The only people who still used them were
non-active members of former squads.
I wasn’t intimidated and growled at him. Better people had tried
to ‘teach me a lesson’, and it hadn’t ended well for them.
Then again, maybe I could use this. Enough damage might
warrant me being moved faster than expected. If I had to risk a
more severe silver poisoning to make sure my plan worked, I’d do it.
The vampire didn’t give me much choice. He lunged at me, his
eyes glinting an ominous red in the darkness of the cell. I
instinctively danced back, out of his reach, but the chains and collar
limited my range of motion, which was undoubtedly what the guard
was relying on. His blade flashed over my side, but my fur protected
me. That wouldn’t work a second time. Vampire swords were crafted
to compensate for the enhanced abilities of werewolves.
That didn’t mean I intended to go down without a fight. Taking
advantage of the fact that he was off balance, I retaliated. I raked
my claws over the back of his thighs, and he hissed in pain as I
aimed for the most vulnerable tendons and veins.
But vampires weren’t like humans. Muscle injuries didn’t
immediately immobilize them. The anomalous blood flow in their
bodies made it possible for them to keep fighting, even if they were
hurt. The downside was that, in a prolonged battle, they were prone
to falling into a form of hibernation. That was out of the question
today. There was no way a prisoner would manage to do enough
damage to a vampire to cause that kind of reaction.
I still enjoyed trying. The vampire recovered quickly from my
attack and lashed out at me with his foot. He realized his mistake
when I buried my fangs in his ankle.
Wow, he was worse at this than I’d thought.
He had to jerk away from me to prevent me from tearing his foot
off altogether, but in the process, he did far more damage to himself.
His eyes flashed and his thrall spread through the cell as he tried to
subdue me.
It didn’t work. It only infuriated my beast further. No one had the
right to touch my mind, no one but her.
With an angry snarl, I abandoned all caution and pounced on the
vampire. I moved too quickly for him to be able to dodge, and we
fell to the floor, with me on top of him. He lost his grip on his sword,
which left him vulnerable and almost defenseless. Oh, he tried to
claw at me. He tried to bury his fangs into my throat. But I was
stronger and faster, and I quickly suppressed his struggles.
I could have killed him very easily. Even with me bound and in
chains, he couldn’t win this one. It was only fair. He’d let his guard
down and he needed to pay the price. But if I did that, things would
be even worse for me in the future and my plan would potentially be
sabotaged.
Another guard saved me from having to make a choice. He burst
into the cell, let out a vicious curse, and activated some kind of
mechanism. The collar vibrated against my throat, changing shapes
and sprouting sharp thin spikes. No, not spikes, needles.
 The needles easily punctured my flesh and my body started
screaming in agony as silver nitrate flooded my bloodstream. It was
a large, concentrated dose. I had no choice but to let go.
The guard underneath me took advantage of the opening to
shove me away and reach for his sword. I forced my body to
overcome the pain caused by the poisoning, knowing that the
vampire could very well try to kill me in a fit of temper.
My caution was unwarranted. The other guard pulled out his own
sword and tapped the first vampire’s chest, essentially placing
himself between the two of us. “Get out of my way, Nikolai,” my
attacker growled. “This creature needs to die.”
“I agree,” the vampire now identified as Nikolai said. “But we
don’t have the right to decide his fate. Her Royal Highness has
already decreed that he is to be kept alive. Do you want to incur her
wrath?”
Vampires were always pale, but that just made the change in my
attacker’s demeanor more remarkable. He went so white he was
almost translucent.
“No, of course not. I… It slipped my mind.”
“Idiot,” Nikolai hissed. “Don’t say that. Ever. That’s not a good
excuse. Her Royal Highness will tear your brain apart if she thinks
you’re not using it properly.”
That sounded like something Rhiannon would do. I might not
know her very well, but our two brief meetings spoke volumes of her
efficiency and ruthlessness. She wouldn’t suffer fools, nor would she
accept disobedience.
 A small rush of smugness swept over me. That was my female,
so powerful, so breathtaking. It stood to reason that these ants
feared her.
“I won’t report this,” Nikolai continued, “for now. But if you make
another mistake, I won’t cover for you. Do I make myself clear?”
“Yes, of course. And thank you. I owe you one.”
Nikolai grimaced and shoved his companion toward the exit.
“Just stop dishonoring our coven and we’re even.”
The other guard disappeared outside in silence. Nikolai stayed
behind. He turned toward me and glared. “Don’t think you’ve won,
Wade Hewitt. Theodore might have been fooled, but I know what
you are. Her Royal Highness wouldn’t show interest in just anyone.
But your value is limited and once she’s done with you, you will
suffer more than any other.”
I didn’t react to the threat. Instead, I just watched him, hiding
the true effect of his words on me.
Huffing one last time, Nikolai turned on his heel and stalked out
of the cell. I went back to my corner and thought about his words.
Her Royal Highness wouldn’t show interest in just anyone. Yes, I
knew that. I’d been her first time, the first man she’d ever taken into
her body. Nikolai wasn’t aware of it, of course, but even so, he’d
noticed the fact that I was special.
My Omega. She was my Omega. She was mine, and maybe on
some level, she knew it.
 Where did that leave me? If my plan did work and I managed to
escape, what would I do next?

***

Rhiannon

“Please, Your Highness. Grant me the honor of your bite. Take mercy
on your loyal servant and let me provide you with your meal.”
Seated on a comfortable chair behind my desk, I watched the
human in front of me in disgust. “Be silent, sheep. When I need your
service, I will ask for it.”
The creature whimpered and cowered away from me. He was
male, in his twenties, and looking at me in a mix of terror and lust.
The idea of touching him made my skin crawl.
I was tempted to lash out at him and silence him permanently,
but he didn’t belong to me, and I’d never hear the end of it from my
brother Cletus if I killed his blood slave. Besides, as much as I hated
to admit it, I did need the blood supply.
With a mental sigh, I ignored my food source and turned my
attention to more important matters. Nikolai had been watching the
exchange between me and my food source with interest, but he said
nothing about it. By now, he knew better than to discuss my dietary
habits.
 “How have the guards adapted to the new rotation?” I asked
him.
“There have been no real complaints. Most people are grateful
we have more staff to secure the area. The new staff members are
adjusting nicely.”
Something in his tone alerted me to the fact that things weren’t
as great as he was trying to pretend. “Really? No one has any
problems with the way I do things.”
Nikolai fidgeted in discomfort. “No, Your Highness. Nothing too
important, Your Highness.”
His vague words irritated me as much as the presence of the
human. “Spit it out, Nikolai. I don’t have the patience to coax
information out of my own subordinates right now.”
When he still hesitated a little, I allowed my power to drift over
him. It was only a gentle touch, but I didn’t need to do more.
“Of course, Your Highness,” he said quickly. “It’s just… the new
werewolf. The prisoner. He’s been causing quite a fuss.”
My life as a vampire princess had long ago taught me the
benefits of hiding my emotions. It came in handy now, because
Nikolai’s reluctant report stirred an unwanted feeling deep inside me.
The new werewolf. Alpha Wade Hewitt. My Alpha.
No. Death help me, I couldn’t think this way. He wasn’t my
Alpha. He wasn’t anything to me—just a prisoner I’d captured, my
weapon to use against the shifters.
“Oh? In what way?” I asked Nikolai.
“He’s been refusing to eat. He has managed to shift despite the
chains and he’s howling a lot. It’s not that unusual, so we left it
alone at first. But yesterday evening, he attacked a guard.”
Alarm rushed through me at Nikolai’s words. “Yesterday
evening?” I repeated. “And why was I not informed?”
“I intervened before the incident could escalate and didn’t deem
it worthy of your attention.”
I was pretty sure things were a little more complicated than that.
I would have bet my magic that the guard involved had belonged to
Nikolai’s coven. He’d been trying to hide the whole thing, knowing
full well that I would get angry.
I had a good reason for it too. The only way he could have
stopped Wade was through the use of silver nitrate. I’d specified
that I still needed Wade and no one was supposed to touch him, but
apparently, my subordinates hadn’t understood that order.
I got up from my chair and walked around my desk, to Nikolai’s
side. Leaning into his space, I clutched his jaw in a tight grip. My
claws dug into his cold cheeks. “Don’t lie to me, Nikolai. I’ll give you
a free pass today, but if you slip up again, I’ll make you regret it.
You might end up sitting where that human is right now.”
Based on the way his eyes flared, that wasn’t much of a threat
for him. He liked the idea. If I had asked, he would have happily
knelt at my feet and given me head. He would have bared his throat
for me and allowed me to feed on him. But I didn’t ask, because he
wasn’t what I wanted.
Instead, I let go of him and licked my claws of the blood. “Or
maybe I’m dealing with this the wrong way. If your loyalty is to
another, maybe I should reassign you.”
 Nikolai’s breath caught. “No, Your Highness. Please. It won’t
happen again. I promise. I beg your forgiveness.”
He dropped to his knees and bowed, shaking harder than the
human was. I pressed my boot to his head, forcing him even lower
down. He didn’t protest, completely at my mercy.
I watched him in silence, considering my approach. I didn’t
intend to dismiss Nikolai or anything like that. It would have been
stupid and petty. People who were truly loyal were next to non-
existent in vampire culture, since everyone had their own agenda
that often got in the way of orders. That was why I’d always made it
clear that I wouldn’t abide failure.
But this particular incident was complicated. Putting too much
emphasis on it would draw attention to Wade and my exact
connection to him. The last thing I wanted was for someone to look
too closely at what I was doing with my new captive Alpha.
Not that I intended to pursue my illicit relationship with Wade.
There was no relationship to pursue at all. But I had to make sure
my secret was safe, which meant I couldn’t show any kind of
protectiveness toward Wade.
“I will ask again. What happened?”
“My coven mate, Theodore Eland, went into the cell to bring the
wolf food. I’m not sure what happened from there. The creature
rejected it and Theodore was angered.”
Oh, for fuck’s sake. Some vampires had no sense.
“He attempted to attack the wolf and it retaliated,” Nikolai
continued. “I stepped in before the creature could do permanent
damage.”
 Theodore Eland was one of Cletus’s old guards and according to
his file, he had an excellent record. He’d fought in my sister Christa’s
older death squads before a debilitating injury had incapacitated him
too much to continue in that position. His grudge made him the
perfect choice for Eventide Shifter Prison—or so my brother had
thought. I was no longer so convinced.
I lifted my foot off Nikolai’s head. “I admit I’m disappointed,” I
said. “I expected better of you, Sir Albrecht.” He flinched at my use
of his title, but stayed silent. I kept talking. “But I’m not without
mercy. You made an error in judgment, but you are loyal. Get up.”
He did, although he kept his eyes lowered, understanding that he
was still in trouble. “I will speak with Eland privately and make sure
this doesn’t repeat itself,” I added. “Meanwhile, I want you to
transfer Wade Hewitt into Cell Block X. Cell 401. I do believe it’s time
for our new guest to find himself with another challenge on his
hands. Wouldn’t you agree?”
It wasn’t a question, so I didn’t wait for Nikolai to reply. “You’re
dismissed now. Report to me when you’re done.”
“Yes, Your Highness. May the Blood Clans be eternal.”
He brought his hand to his chest in a military salute and fled my
office. I was left alone with the still petrified human. Turning toward
him, I licked my lips. “Well, pet. It looks like it’s just the two of us
now. Come here.”
The human’s eyes glazed as soon as I spoke to him. He scuttled
to my side, panting and erect. Ignoring his visible arousal, I grabbed
him and tilted his head. As I buried my fangs into his throat, blood
exploded in my mouth, intoxicating, feeding the beast that always
lurked inside me.
The endorphins caused by my bite made the human come, which
in turn, added an extra hint of spice to his blood. And yet, when I
pulled away, I was dissatisfied.
It just wasn’t good enough. Wade’s blood had been different, so
much better, so addicting. I supposed I shouldn’t have been
surprised. Animal or not, Wade was a powerful Alpha, and that
strength flowed through his veins.
Alpha… My Alpha… Wade. Fucking hell.
No. Wade was nothing to me. He was not my lover, not my
Alpha, only a beast who had temporarily taken me by surprise. Soon,
I would prove it to him. I would make him suffer for what he’d done,
and maybe when that happened, I wouldn’t hunger for his blood
again.
 No Weakness

Wade

Two days after I’d initiated my not so great plan of escape, Nikolai
entered my cell again. He looked paler than the last time I’d seen
him and was accompanied by two other vampire minions.
The duo cornered me and pinned me down, not that it was very
difficult. I wasn’t trying to put up much of a fight. My body had
adjusted to my extended period of fasting, but I was still weakened,
not at my best. I could only hope Nikolai’s visit wouldn’t make things
worse for me.
In the beginning, I didn’t feel very optimistic about my chances.
Nikolai produced a muzzle and as soon as he approached, I tried to
make my escape.
“Settle down, or I’ll use the silver nitrate again. It’s the poison or
the muzzle.”
His tone held a quiet, hidden fury, but he was giving me a choice
anyway. It wasn’t something he wanted to do. This was, again,
about Rhiannon.
It grated on me, but I allowed him to put the muzzle on me.
Whatever was going on, it was better to accept it, at least for now.
 The vampires dragged me out of the cell and I kept the pace
with them as well as I could, since otherwise, the collar and chains
would have just dug deeper into my flesh. Besides, I was beginning
to see where this was going.
As I’d hoped, Nikolai led us out of the previous wing of the
prison, into a long, almost ominously quiet corridor. We had to go
through at least five security gates to reach the other side and there
were so many guards I lost count of them.
We also went up two flights of stairs and used an elevator twice
before we finally reached our destination. Unsurprisingly, it was a
different part of the prison.
This particular wing was nothing like the one where I’d been
before. It was no longer dark, but there were no windows either.
The illumination was all sterile and artificial. The closed off cells from
the previous wing were replaced by transparent cages. In each one,
I could see other prisoners, more shifters, just like me. As the
vampires passed, the inmates were all quiet, obviously not wanting
to draw attention to themselves.
“Welcome to your new home,” Nikolai said, “Cell Block X,
designed specifically for problematic prisoners.”
It was pretty much what I’d expected. They wouldn’t put me just
anywhere, even if they removed me from that awful pit. It looked
like all activity here was monitored. But then again, this was
Eventide Shifter Prison. It wouldn’t be that easy to leave.
We stopped in front of the last cell in the area. An electronic
marker displayed the number on top—401. There was already
another prisoner there.
 “Get up, Rogers,” Nikolai ordered. “Hands against the wall.”
The man sneered at Nikolai, but obeyed. The door of the
transparent cell slid open and I was shoved inside.
Nikolai removed my muzzle and my chains, but left on the collar
and the cuffs. “Be advised that we won’t allow any more fighting.
One single incident and you’re back in the Tomb.”
Why did vampires always love throwing useless threats at me?
They’d already made it obvious that, from now on, my life would
forever rotate around potential punishment.
Well, whatever. I ignored his posturing, since I knew better than
to push my luck. Once I got out of here, he’d learn who the real
Alpha was.
My silence had the desired effect. Turning on his heel, Nikolai
left. The cell door slid closed behind him and the other two
vampires.
Once they were gone, I decided to look around a little more. The
cell was tiny, but it did have two cots, a wash basin and a small
toilet. There was next to no privacy, but the toilet was sealed off
with a transparent panel. I should have been grateful, since it meant
we wouldn’t have to smell our own urine and feces. Instead, I was
wary. If that panel existed, it wasn’t because the person who’d
designed the cell cared about our comfort.
I still needed to clean up a bit and eventually, I’d have to use the
toilet. I had to be careful. Great.
Shifting into my humanoid form, I padded to the wash basin and
ran the water. It was ice cold, but I didn’t flinch. As I rubbed the
grime and blood off my skin, I kept an eye on the spot I’d deemed
suspicious, as well as the other wolf present in the cell.
He was also an Alpha, which could prove to be problematic. Two
Alphas in a small enclosed space, over a long period of time, was a
recipe for disaster. I doubted my cell mate would be willing to defer
to me. This wasn’t a random match. Whoever had arranged for my
transfer—and my money was on Rhiannon—had picked this cell
specifically because it would cause me trouble.
It was unsurprising, and in a way, a relief. My feelings toward her
still confused me. This was an unpleasant, but welcome reminder of
my true position.
I was beneath her, and she’d only ever see me as an animal. She
lived to kill people like me. She might have begged for my cock and
for my blood, but at the end of the day, she hated me.
She was my enemy and I couldn’t forget that.
Shelving that thought for later, I focused on the toilet cubicle and
tried to see if there was any activity in the area while I moved
around it. There was nothing. Frowning, I finished washing and
dropped down onto the free cot.
As soon as I sat down, my cell mate finally decided to address
me. “You’re smarter than the last one,” he said in a raspy voice. “I’ll
regret having to eat you.”
It was a gruesome confession, but not one that scared me. I
tilted my head at him inquiringly. “Is that what you did to him?”
“Well, yes, but it was either him or me.”
“You realize I don’t particularly care about your reasons, right?” I
asked. “If you attack me, you’re dead.”
 He laughed and stood up, his eyes taking on a savage glint.
“That’s what they all say. Don’t disappoint me now, fresh meat. I
don’t know where you’re from, and it doesn’t matter. Down here,
nobody cares about how much land your pack used to have. Nobody
will kiss your paws and call you Alpha. You’re just a slave and a
failure like the rest of us.”
“Believe what you like. But you’ve been here for too long,
carrion. I might be a captive, but that doesn’t mean I’m a failure.
And I’m definitely not frightened of you.”
He bared his fangs at me, but didn’t otherwise react. Maybe he
would have, had a vampire guard not approached and tapped the
cell with his blade. “Quiet down in there, Rogers, Hewitt. If you want
to fight, you’ll have plenty of time later. Don’t test me. You’re both
on thin ice.”
My cell mate snapped his mouth shut. The vampire clicked his
tongue, as if disappointed. “So obedient. What a shame. I was
looking forward to making you howl.”
Oh, I had no doubt. It looked like ninety-nine percent of the
people I’d met here were seriously sadistic.
Either way, the vampire’s words didn’t completely dissuade my
cell mate. As soon as the guard left, he spoke again. “Hewitt, huh?
You Hewitts have always been arrogant. It won’t help you here.”
It was true that my pack was well-known, but that had nothing
to do with arrogance. “So you keep saying. Shut your mouth,
Rogers. I have no use for people who don’t understand their own
limits. I’m not surprised you call yourself a failure, considering your
history.”
 The Rogers pack had been among the first to be hunted down by
vampires. They had been fairly small, and the only thing that made
them famous was the fact that they’d fallen to Rhiannon, in one of
the first battles she’d led. It had been years ago, though. We’d all
thought the Rogers pack was extinct. It looked like we’d been
wrong.
“You know nothing, fresh meat,” my cell mate growled. “The
moment a vampire touches you, you’ll kneel and be bled dry.”
I didn’t tell him a vampire had already touched me and the
moments we’d spent together had been far more pleasurable than
what he suggested. Instead, I lay back on the cot and stared at the
ceiling.
There were cameras everywhere. Was Rhiannon watching this? If
so, I hoped she got a good look. I hoped it would remind her of the
way she’d surrendered to me.
Maybe Rogers was right and I was only a slave and a failure, but
that would change soon. And when that happened, when I escaped
this place, I’d make sure to even the score between me and the
beautiful warden of Eventide Shifter Prison.

***

Rhiannon

“Presenting, Her Royal Highness Rhiannon Eventide, Fourth Princess

of the Eventide Blood Clan. All kneel and honor her presence.”
The announcement echoed over the cavernous walls of my
father’s Grand Hall, making my migraine worse than it already was.
As a princess, I was accustomed to these formalities, but at the
same time, I hated coming to court. I always felt like I was on
display, a pretty doll my father took pride in, ready to be auctioned
off to the highest bidder.
Intellectually, I knew he valued me beyond my worth as a
female. But he was also aware that I was an Omega. Even if he
claimed that didn’t matter to him, I didn’t believe him. He’d kept it a
secret, although I’d grown to suspect that my brother Vogel, at
least, had figured it out.
To make matters worse, I was the only person here and in the
Blood Clans who had a sexual affinity. I was the only person alive in
a court of technically dead people.
Either way, I had no choice, so I walked into the hall, with my
head held high and my spine ramrod straight. Everyone was silent,
but even so, my steps were inaudible, my gait as soundless as it
always was.
My father was waiting for me on his throne. I knelt in front of the
dais and brought my hand to my chest in a formal salute. “Hail, King
Xavier Eventide, may your reign be eternal and blessed by the Death
gods.”
“Thank you, daughter,” he said with a benevolent smile. “Be
welcome in these halls.”
He waved his hand, gesturing for me to get up. I happily
complied and stepped to the side, joining my eldest brother.
Vogel scanned me from head to toe, and I could see a shadow of
concern in his deep blue eyes. I suspected Cletus had mentioned my
decision to resort to blood slaves to feed. That would be an awkward
conversation to have. Vogel could read me very well and if he
started suspecting me of having any kind of inappropriate
relationship with a werewolf, it would be bad.
On the opposite side of the hall, Christa grabbed Cletus’s
shoulder, visibly annoyed with him. He wasn’t the best at paying
attention during one of these meetings. Behind us, Eleanor giggled
slightly. “At this rate, Cletus will have to bribe Christa with a blood
slave.”
I mentally sighed, wondering why my father insisted in bringing
all my siblings to court, even if they were useless. “Keep your voice
down and pay attention,” I hissed at her. “You’re not here to gossip
like a mortal.”
Her laughter instantly died. Across the room, Christa and Cletus
stopped their discreet bickering. My father shot me a narrow-eyed
look.
Shit. I needed to control my temper. Having magic came in
handy, but if I lost control of my enhanced thrall—as my father liked
to described it—everyone would be in trouble.
I took a deep breath and calmed down, shoving back my
irritation under layers of artificial calm. It only took a second, and
my father went back to what he’d been previously doing.
“Step forward and present your petitions.”
The gathering took forever, but I knew better than to let my
attention wander. Members of the nobility came forward to discuss
the prices of imported blood, the concentration of silver nitrate
allowed in weaponry, disputes over coven territory, and on one
remarkable occasion, a blood feud between two covens stemming
from an illicit love affair. That last one was, at least, interesting,
because despite my father’s best efforts, the two coven leaders still
came to blows.
“You’ll pay for having dishonored my daughter!” one of them
shouted.
“I did nothing she didn’t want,” the other defended himself.
And just like that, they were at each other’s throats. The guards
jumped forward, ready to intervene. Unfortunately, they couldn’t use
projectile weapons in a place like this, since they risked hitting an
innocent bystander. That left them with no choice but to resort to
their swords.
I didn’t have the patience to watch a ridiculous fight between
two men who should have known better. I allowed my power to flow
over them, willing them to stop fighting.
 All eyes turned to me. “Have you considered asking the honored
lady in question how she feels about the whole thing?” I asked
tightly. “You’re wasting my father’s priceless time with a petty
dispute, instead of dealing with it behind closed doors and
respecting her opinion, as would be appropriate.”
Most male vampires knew it wasn’t a good idea to underestimate
females. We could be just as vicious, if not more so. But there was
always the occasional idiot who drank too much human blood and
got contaminated by their general stupidity. I didn’t have the time or
the patience to deal with them. If they hadn’t been nobility and
therefore, necessary to my father’s rule, I’d have taught them an
even harsher lesson.
“My daughter is correct,” my father said, getting up from his
throne. “This is a pointless debate. Remove yourselves and return to
your covens. I expect the young lady in question to come see me
herself and make her decision. We will act accordingly after that.”
After much bowing and scraping, the two nobles fled. My father
dismissed the gathering, but the rest of my siblings and I stayed
behind.
“That was an interesting display,” he commented once the Grand
Hall was empty of people. “Is there anything I should know,
Rhiannon?”
It took everything in my power to remain calm. “Not at all,
Father. I’ve just been busy reorganizing things a little at the prison
and haven’t had the time to relax.”
Cletus shot me a look of disbelief. “Dearest sister, that’s why
you’re a warden. To relax. Take out your frustration on those
beasts.”
“I must agree, Rhiannon,” Christa said. “Use your inmates.
There’s plenty more of those creatures where they came from.”
“Unfortunately, that’s not quite true,” my father intervened.
“Since the recent capture of Alpha Wade Hewitt, it seems shifters
have gone underground and death squads have been having some
trouble fighting them. Rhiannon, I want you to speak to your cousin.
We need to organize a harvesting session.”
I nodded, my mind already going over the arrangements I’d need
to make. “From the shifters at the prison? Of course. We might as
well find some use for them instead of just wasting resources. Do we
have any preference in term of blood type or species?”
“Drayne mentioned he’s out of fox blood, so that might be
something worth looking into.”
Foxes. Great. I tried to not think about the reason why that
simple word made me feel so relieved.
“We have a few good candidates lined up. I think it won’t be a
problem.”
“Of course it won’t.” My father grinned, displaying his sharp
fangs. “I know you’d never fail me.”
His tone instantly put me on alarm. I suppressed the urge to
flinch. “I am ever your loyal servant, Your Majesty.”
My father’s threatening smile faded. He understood what I wasn’t
saying and could read well enough between the lines.
I didn’t care which coven leader had contacted him because they
wanted to bang the half-human and get her pregnant. I’d always
make my own choices, and if my Father didn’t like that, I would
disregard the bonds of family. That wouldn’t end well, for anyone.
Vogel let out a deep sigh. “Perhaps we should stop this meeting
here, Father. We’ve all been under a lot of stress lately. And before
we consider any further international developments, we still have to
investigate the identity of the person who leaked the location of our
Paris meeting.”
Sometimes, I really loved Vogel. He was the best big brother a
girl could ever want.
Because of the whole mess with Wade—which I would not think
about while here with my father, thank you very much—I’d forgotten
to address the issue that had gotten us here in the first place. The
meeting in Paris should have been private. Only a couple of coven
leaders had been notified of the time and date. And yet, several wolf
packs had managed to crash the party. We’d suffered plenty of
casualties, although my presence and my magic had prevented
disaster.
“Are you looking into it, Vogel?” I asked, concerned.
“So far, it’s fallen under the authority of the European covens, but
I don’t trust them to do a good job. We might have to step in soon.”
My father hummed thoughtfully. He knew what that meant. For a
long time, our nation had lived in a somewhat tenuous society that
combined monarchical rule, tribalism, and city states. Covens were,
for the most part, independent, but there was a hierarchy in every
region. And my father, as the leader of the most powerful coven in
the world, was the ultimate authority.
 Vogel had been pushing to make that official, to finally force the
other covens to kneel in front of us. My father has so far resisted the
suggestion. He hadn’t changed his mind. “You’re young, impetuous,
and impatient,” he said. “We can’t afford to fight amongst ourselves
at a time when we don’t know what’s going on with the shifters.”
“I agree with you, Father, but I’m not suggesting an actual fight.
What’s your take on this, Rhiannon?”
Had I thought Vogel was my favorite brother? Clearly, I was
losing my mind.
“It’s not a black and white situation. A lot of the covens are led
by useless, corrupt leaders and honestly, we’d do their members a
favor if we took over. But it’s a slippery slope and we’d step on a lot
of toes. The Romanian covens still have a lot of influence in the
area, and while they’ve been dormant lately, I can’t imagine they’d
just accept it. As far as I’m concerned, we’d need to deal with them
first.”
“An excellent assessment, as always, Rhiannon,” my father
offered. “And I fully intend to do just that, soon.”
He smiled at me again, and I could see my path extending in
front of me so clearly. I could marry into one of the European
covens. With some luck, I’d be able to produce a baby after only a
decade or so of trying. That would leave me in an excellent position
of taking over the coven. Slowly, but surely, I’d be able to establish a
foothold for the Eventide clan in Europe.
But even if it was practical and rational, I refused to be used that
way. If my father wanted to throw a marriage at the problem, he
could use one of my sisters. Eleanor wasn’t doing anything. She
might as well make herself useful instead of giggling like an idiot
during official gatherings.
Fortunately, my father backtracked, keeping me from having to
take more decisive steps. “In any case, we have time to deal with
these particular concerns later. It would serve us well to find the
traitor, Vogel, so try to make discreet inquiries. In the meantime,
Rhiannon, proceed with the harvesting. I expect results from both of
you in a month’s time. Dismissed.”
We bowed and left the Grand Hall, some more disgruntled than
others. “Do you need any assistance?” Cletus asked me. “I could
drop by the prison tomorrow.”
I arched a brow at him, unimpressed by his offer. “Do you miss
the warden job already, Cletus? Don’t worry. I have this well in hand.
Besides, that’s what Drayne is for.”
Christa grimaced. “Yes, we know. But you have to admit he
indulges in the blood he gathers far too much. Sometimes, it seems
like he drinks more than he stashes.”
“Drayne has his faults, but he’s never been inefficient. Besides, if
he tries anything, I’ll make sure to teach him the error of his ways.”
“If anyone can do it, Rhiannon, it’s you,” Vogel said with a mild
smile.
“Thank you. You take care as well.”
We didn’t speak again of the sensitive topic of the traitor. It
wasn’t a huge secret, but it was still better to keep such
conversations behind closed doors, where indiscreet ears couldn’t
hear us.
 Instead, I said goodbye to my siblings and headed to the
western wing of the palace. This area was off limits to most
members of the court, but I passed through all the security checks
with ease.
I found my cousin in his lab, bent over a microscope, and
humming off-tune to the sound of the cacophonous music coming
from his headphones. I almost flinched at the volume. One of these
days, Drayne would exhaust a vampire’s ability of regeneration and
find himself as the first deaf vampire.
But until then, he continued to be a thorn in my side, and a
useful tool for the dynasty, so when he turned toward me, I didn’t
throw anything at him. “Hello, Drayne.”
“Rhiannon!” he replied, abandoning his headphones. “If it isn’t
my favorite deadly princess of darkness. What brings you to my lab
today?”
I glided up to him, already grabbing a pair of claw-resistant
gloves. I might have my problems with Drayne, but I respected his
work space and his desire to keep it uncontaminated. “Father has
ordered us to hold a harvesting session. You’re supposed to assist
me.”
Drayne’s eyes lit up with a manic light. “Finally! I needed some
extra samples of fox blood.”
“So I hear. I honestly don’t care what you need, as long as you
do your job right and obey orders.”
“Oh, of course, of course,” Drayne answered. “You don’t have to
worry about that.”
 Yes, I did. Like I’d told Vogel and the others, Drayne was
efficient. But he was also a complete psycho and if someone didn’t
keep him on a leash, he was more likely to drain people dry than to
leave them alive for long-term harvesting. That was why he’d ended
up with his name change, after all.
I had enough problems on my hands without having to worry
about Drayne starting to kill shifters left and right, so I leaned in
closer to him and grabbed the lapel of his jacket. “Just to be clear,
I’m not Cletus. I know he let you get away with a lot of things. But
you’re not the one in control here. I am.”
“Rhiannon, I don’t—”
“Shhh,” I cut him off, my magic already sweeping over him. “You
need to remember, Drayne, who you have to obey. You can get
plenty of blood. Just keep it clean—no deaths this time.”
Drayne’s eyes glazed and for a few seconds, I could hear his
heart start beating faster. It was an anomaly. A vampire’s pulse was
very slow, barely audible, the blood flow just enough to keep an
undead functioning properly. But if we didn’t feed regularly, a state
of rigidity did set into our muscles, leading us to turn into revenants
or liches.
I wasn’t in danger of that, of course, and for the moment,
neither was Drayne. His scientific mind was still of use to my family
and as long as that was the case, we couldn’t afford to let his brain
rot.
I let him go and he staggered away from me, licking his lips.
“Why are you always so mean to me, Rhiannon?”
“Oh, don’t lie. You love it.”
 “Maybe a little,” he admitted. “But I also value my existence.
Don’t worry, Rhiannon. I’ll listen.”
“Excellent. I wouldn’t want my own cousin to get in the way of
my plans. I expect you at the prison tomorrow.”
He nodded, once again drawn in by the potential of all the blood
he would have at his disposal. I let it go. I could expect no more of
him today. I’d have to nag him about it again and again when he
was at the prison, but I was prepared for that.
You couldn’t teach an old dog new tricks, and vampires were no
different. The subtle suggestion I’d planted in his mind should be
enough to at least mitigate the potential damage he could do.
It also had the added benefit of him not questioning what was
going on at the prison too closely. Drayne might have been sadistic,
but he was smart, and it wasn’t out of the question that he’d notice
something wasn’t right with me.
As if in response to my thoughts, a wave of heat pulsed through
me. I’d known this would happen, since I’d started feeding on
humans, but still, it was an unpleasant adjustment.
“I hope, for your sake, that you’ll stick to your promise,” I told
Drayne. “Or one day, I’ll force you into one of your machines and
drain you dry.”
I didn’t wait to see his reaction. With those parting words, I
turned on my heel and fled the lab. Vampires might not be Alpha
werewolves, but that didn’t mean they couldn’t sense arousal at all.
Because of the countless guards I passed on my way out, I was
forced to surround myself with a deadly aura. They all assumed I
was in a bad mood and stayed away from me, which kept them from
analyzing my bodily processes too closely.
But I knew better than to think that would continue to work. I
needed to get back to the prison and take refuge in my quarters.
I wished my witch of a mother had been more than just an egg
donor. If she’d actually cared about what happened to her half-
vampire offspring, I could have asked her for some advice.
Then again, she couldn’t have told me much I didn’t already
know. I’d learned plenty of things about my own body since my first
heat. Fortunately, I wouldn’t have to experience a heat now. That
would have been a fucking disaster. This surge was nothing and I
could easily deal with it on my own.
Or you could resort to Wade, a treacherous voice whispered at
the back of my mind. He’s right there and he’d be willing.
No. Absolutely not. That way lay madness.
I’d allowed myself to be claimed by a beast once. He’d fucked
me, humiliated me, and made me his. I’d never be able to wash his
memory off my skin. But I refused to do it again.
I was more than an Omega. I was Princess Rhiannon Eventide,
damn it, and I wouldn’t let my sexual affinity rule my life. Even if my
body rebelled against me, I would win the battle.
There was too much at stake for me to allow myself to succumb
to my impulses. Until I was free, until I could be sure that nothing
and no one could ever chain me, I couldn’t allow any weakness in
my life—and Wade was included.
 Harvesting

Wade

“So, you’re the new guy. I heard they brought you in the other day.”
I looked up from my disgusting meal and faced the cocky young
Alpha who’d approached me. Two other werewolves were with him,
flanking him like bodyguards. All the people in the mess hall—
vampires and shifters alike—were staring at us. “You look less
beaten up than I expected,” he added.
He was the third Alpha today and I was beginning to grow tired
of all the posturing. “What can I say? I heal quickly.”
“Do you really? I wonder how true that is.” The other Alpha
grinned, exposing sharp, yellowed fangs. It was a startling sight,
since werewolf fangs were usually pretty resilient to tooth damage.
Our fangs only stopped being white with old age, or because of a
very specific, disgusting diet.
I remembered what Rogers had told me the day before in the cell
and mentally sighed. Apparently, I had another guy who wanted to
eat me.
I ripped a piece of moldy bread and dipped it into the disgusting
sludge that masqueraded as a protein shake. “Did you want
anything?” I asked as I swallowed my food. “I’m kind of busy.”
“Busy fattening yourself up for the bloodsuckers?” The werewolf
sneered. “Do you really think you’ll be able to survive here?”
“Maybe, maybe not,” I said with a shrug. “I don’t know what will
happen. But I do know I don’t want to give them the satisfaction of
seeing me fight against my own kind.”
“They’ll do that anyway,” the young Alpha said with a huff. “You
might as well get used to it, fresh meat. You have no friends here.”
With that, he stalked away from me. I watched him go, not
particularly caring about his temper tantrum.
It hadn’t taken me long to realize that my plan to save my fellow
shifters wouldn’t be so easy to accomplish. Most of the people in Cell
Block X had been here a while and they had turned almost feral.
They’d never listen to me if I tried to stage an escape. Oh, they’d
run away if someone blew a hole in the walls, but they wouldn’t
actually do anything to organize that.
It should have been disheartening, but I took it as a challenge.
In the end, I couldn’t expect everything to go smoothly. And
besides, Cell Block X was only one part of the prison. Things were
likely different in other areas.
Unlike the Tomb—where I’d been placed when I’d first arrived—
the new cell block had a mess hall. So far, we hadn’t done much
beyond sitting in our cells and coming here, which I deemed
strange. Every other prison had some kind of occupation for its
captives, but maybe the Blood Clans didn’t need beasts to do their
work for them.
 Either way, I felt antsy, and the hostile Alphas weren’t helping. So
when another shifter slid onto the bench in front of me and set his
tray down, my immediate response was to attack.
I came very close to doing just that, but the shifter must have
seen it coming, because he lifted his hands, pointing out he was
harmless. “Whoa, there, big guy. I don’t mean you any harm.”
“Is that a fact?” I asked, narrowing my eyes at him. “Somehow, I
doubt it.”
“I couldn’t hurt you if I tried,” he replied. “I just want to sit down
here. May I?”
He was a small man, pale and unassuming, but that wasn’t what
made me agree. His polite demeanor struck me as unusual, and his
words didn’t carry the same threat and weight as those of a
werewolf. I tested him with my senses, seeking out the essence of
his beast. When I found it, I nodded. “Go ahead.”
“Thanks,” he replied. “I’m Les.”
“Wade. Pleasure to meet you.”
It really wasn’t, but whatever. It didn’t cost me anything to be
polite, and I could throw him a bone here. Besides, he interested
me.
I knew better than to underestimate him because of his species,
and just the fact that he was here meant that he was more than he
seemed. Like he had said, he sat down in front of me, and for a few
minutes, both of us focused on our meal. His sludge looked different
from mine, but that wasn’t surprising. Although we were both
primarily carnivores, his species often had a different diet.
 I wondered how someone like him had survived in a place where
shifters ate each other on a regular basis, but I couldn’t find a way
to ask.
“You know, you shouldn’t antagonize the others so much,” he
said, finally breaking the silence.
It was the first time any of the other shifters had addressed me
with a degree of kindness. It irritated me, but I didn’t lash out at
him, still waiting for the other shoe to drop. “I’m not antagonizing
them,” I said. “I’m literally just sitting here, eating.”
“Your mere presence is a challenge and you know that,” he
replied, shooting me an unimpressed look.
I shrugged. “If they’re feeling insecure, that’s not my problem.
They should spend their time enforcing their control on their beast,
instead of posturing and lording their power over people they deem
weak.”
“I agree, but it’s a little hard to do that, when none of us seem to
have a future.”
“We’re not dead yet,” I pointed out. “That’s worth something.”
“Not really. Not here, not when a harvesting session is coming.”
I frowned in confusion. “Harvesting?”
Les’s eyes widened. “You mean… You don’t know? You haven’t
heard?”
“Heard what?”
“Oh, right. You’re new here.” Les let out a slow breath. “Listen,
usually, people in Cell Block X have tough jobs. I’m sure you were
assigned one when you were brought here. But we always stop
working before an official session of blood harvesting.”
 My heart sank. Oh. Now I felt like an idiot. Vampire prison. Of
course something like this would happen.
“So that’s what the upstart from earlier meant when he
mentioned I was fattening myself up,” I mused.
Les grimaced. “Marrow’s not a great guy, but he’s not wrong to
be wary. When Prince Cletus was in charge of the prison, hundreds
of shifters died in the harvests. The vampires are usually more
careful in individual blood drinking sessions, but with this, it’s often
up to luck.”
“I make my own luck, Les,” I said, and focused on finishing my
meal, my mind already going over what he had told me.
The vampires were watching us carefully, so I couldn’t ask much
else. There was no way to stop this. That meant I had to make sure
my body was as prepared as possible for a potentially lethal process.
I could take a lot of damage and the silver poisoning was, for the
most part, gone. But I couldn’t be careless. I needed to survive.
After the meal was finished, we were ushered back into our cells.
Les vanished… somewhere, and I ended up with my unpleasant cell
mate again. Rogers sneered at me when we both sat down on our
respective cots. “I saw you talking with that faggot fox. What did he
want with you?”
“He just warned me about the harvesting,” I said, ignoring the
slur. “Why? Was he wrong?”
Rogers scoffed. “I didn’t say that. That bitch tends to cozy up to
everyone he sees as powerful. He had a nice tight ass for Prince
Cletus to fuck, so that helped him. Now that Cletus is gone, I
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Ilmarisesta — aina sama mieltä hellyttävä luonnollisuus, sama
kaunismuotoinen esittäminen.

Otamme Kalevalan kuvakieltä tarkastaaksemme puheeksi erään

häärunoista. Pohjolan maan kuulun tyttären ja Kalevalan taitavan
sepon Ilmarisen häät on juuri Pohjolan avarassa pirtissä pidetty. On
siis jäljellä vain morsiamen lähtö entisestä kodistaan uuteen kotiin
Ilmarisensa kera. Häät olivat suomalaisten kesken suurimmat
kotoiset juhlat, ja olihan eroamishetkessä edessä vakava
elämänkysymys, jossa syvimmät tunteet tulvivat esille. Siksi
morsiamen lähtöhetkeä ei runotar lyhyesti vain mainitse, vaan luo
meille siitä laajahkon kuvan. Lähtötilaisuudessa koetettiin morsian
saada oikein selvästi tuntemaan eron kodissa vietetyn ja nyt alkavan
omintakeisen elämän välillä. Tahdottiin morsian ensin saada
ymmärtämään, miten hän lapsuuden kodissa on ollut kaikkien
rakastama ja ihailema. Nuorta tyttöä näemme silloin verrattavan
kukkaan, mansikkaan, kuutamoon j.n.e.

Kasvoit kukkana kujilla, ahomailla mansikkana,

tai

olit kukkana kotona, ilona ison pihoilla, iso kutsui

kuutamoksi, emo päivän paisteheksi, veikkosi vesivaloksi,
siskosi siniveraksi.

Hän on ollut oikea kodin lempilapsi:

nousit voille vuotehelta, maiolle makoamasta, venymästä

vehnäisille, pettäjäisille pehusta, kun et voinut voita syöä,
silpasit sianlihoa.
 Niin nuo kaikille yhteiset huolettomat ja suruttomat lapsuuden
päivät olivat olleet hänelläkin:

ei ollut huolta ollenkana, ajatusta aioinkana, annoit huolla

honkasien, ajatella aiaksien, surra suolla suopetäjän,
kangaskoivun kankahalla, itse liehuit lehtyisenä, perhosena
pyörähtelit.

Sanalla sanoen:

niin neito ison kotona, kuin kuningas linnassansa.

Mutta näiltä iloisilta päiviltä oli kuitenkin tytär toivonut pois. Hän oli
ollut ainakin vanhempien mielestä, kuten runo sanoo:

käpäs kättä antamahan, kiivas kihlan ottelohon. sormuksen

sovittelohon.

Ja hän itsekin oli aina ajatellut:

kun oisi jalka kynnyksellä toinen korjassa kosijan, oisit

päätäsi pitempi, korvallista korkeampi.

Ja hän oli odottanut sitä hetkeä, niinkuin maamies odottaa hyvää

vuotta ja niinkuin lapset odottavat kesän tuloa:

vuotin kuin hyveä vuotta, katsoin kuin kesän tuloa.

Nyt tuo toivottu hetki on tullut. Lähtö on nyt käsissä. Oli tarpeellista
varustaa nuorta naista tulevan elämän koettelemuksille. Oli
vanhempien ja ennen kaikkia äidin raskas velvollisuus tällä hetkellä,
jolloin sydän muutenkin tahtoi pakahtua, vielä johtaa mieleen suruja
ja mielikarvautta, joita tuleva elämä povessaan kantoi nuoren
emännän varalle. Ehkä äiti puhui omasta kokemuksestaan, ehkä
hänen ajatuksiinsa sisältyi useammankin eletyn elämän kokemus.
Mutta kaikessa tapauksessa: Tytär oli opastettava, ettei elämän
kovuus pettymyksenä lankeisi hänen osallensa.

Sattuvasti runo kuvaa, miten uudessa kodissa on kaikki oleva

toisenlaista:

toisin siellä torvet soivat, toisin ukset ulvaisevat, toisin

vierevät veräjät, sanovat saranarauat.

Nuori emäntä ei osaa toimia ja askaroida niinkuin talonväki

odottaisi:

et osaa ovissa käyä, veräjissä vieretellä talon tyttären

tavalla; et tunne puhua tulta, eikä liettä lämmitteä talon
miehen mieltä myöten.

Mutta vielä: kaikki ovat hänelle tylyjä, kaikki häntä arvostelevat ja

moittivat, kaikki etsivät hänessä huonoja puolia ja tuomitsevat:

appi haukkuvi havuiksi, anoppisi ahkioksi, kyty

kynnysportahiksi, nato naisien pahoiksi.

Hellyyttä ei kukaan hänelle osoita, mutta sen sijaan hän yllin kyllin
saa kokea

apen luista leukaluuta, anopin kivistä kieltä, ky'yn kylmiä

sanoja, na'on niskan nakkeloita.

Äiti tietää samalla, että ero ei tapahdu päiväksi tai pariksi, vaan
koko elinijäksi. Tytär menee pois ja hänen ja kodin välisten siteitten
täytyy katketa. Hänen ja entisen kodin täytyy vieraantua toisistaan.
Miten kauniisti kansanruno antaakaan äidin sanoa tuon
syvätunteisen ja monisäkeisen asian:

askelt' on piha pitempi, kynnys hirttä korkeampi sinun toiste

tullessasi.

Eipä ihme, että morsian tätä kuunnellessaan tuli apealle

mielialalle.

Mutta kun äiti ei enempää voi lapsensa mieltä synkistyttää, niin

sen tekee akka askarvaimo, talon ainoinen asuja, joka morsianta
itkettääkseen mitä mustimmilla väreillä kuvaa nuoren miniän
asemaa. Kuin kiduttamalla kiduttaakseen morsianta, hän purevasti
uhuttelee jo itkuun purskahtamaisillaan olevaa tyttöä:

kutti, kutti, neiti nuori, käeten kävit tulehen, tieten tervan

keittehesen, riensihit revon rekehen, läksit karhun kantasille,
revon reessänsä veteä, karhun kauas kannatella, ikiorjaksi
isännän, aikaorjaksi anopin. Läksit kouluhan kotoa, piinahan
ison pihoilta, kova on koulu käyäksesi, piina pitkä ollaksesi;
siell' on ohjat ostettuna, varustettu vankirauat, ei ketänä
muuta vasten, vasten on vaivaista sinua.

Sanoimme edellä, että neito ison kotona oli kuin kuningas

linnassansa.
Toisenlainen on miniän asema:

niin miniä miehelässä,

kuin vanki Venäehellä.

Vasta sitten jos miniä olisi yliluonnollisen nopea toimissaan,

puikkelehtiva kuin savu tai kevyt kuin lehti askaroidessaan, silloin
vasta hän olisi talonväen mielestä hyvä:

äsken sie hyvä olisit, äsken kerta kelpoaisit: utuna ulos

menisit, savuna pihalle saisit, lehtisenä lenteleisit, kipunoina
kiiättäisit.

Mutta ei sekään riittäisi. Vielä hänen tulisi olla tyytyväinen kuin

kala mykkä valittamatta koskaan, sirosuinen, vähäruokainen, valpas
kuin vesilintu:

piteä hänen pitäisi, piteä, piloisen piian, lohen mieli, kiiskin

kieli, lammin ahvenen ajatus, suu sären, salakan vatsa,
meriteiren tieto saa'a.

Mutta tähän täytyy kaikkien vastata samoinkuin kansanrunokin:

et ole lintu lentäjäksi, etkä lehti liehujaksi, et kipuna

kiitäjäksi, savu saajaksi pihalle.

Tällaisen miniän aseman kuvauksen jälkeen ei ole enää liioiteltu

se askarvaimon tekemä loppupäätelmä kaikesta, mitä neito hyvää
menettää ja sijaan saa huonoa:

jo nyt vaihoit, minkä vaihoit, vaihoit armahan isosi appehen

ani paha'an, vaihoit ehtoisen emosi anoppihin ankarahan,
vaihoit Viljon veljyesi kyyttäniskahan kytyhyn, vaihoit siskosi
siviän naljasilmähän natohon, vaihoit liinavuotehesi nokisihin
nuotioihin, vaihoit valkeat vetesi likaisihin lietehisin, vaihoit
hiekkarantasesi mustihin muraperihin, vaihoit armahat ahosi
kanervikkokankahisin, vaihoit marjaiset mäkesi kaskikantoihin
kovihin.
 Ehkä tästä kaikesta kajastaa todellisen elämän ankara kokemus.
Mutta se on samalla selvä todistus siihen, että kansamme on ollut
suuri luonnon ihailija, kun se onnettomuuden itseään kohdatessa
tahtoo onnettomuutensa lausua esille luonnon kauneuden
häviämisellä, kuten jo alussa huomautimme.

Ei tunnu meistä suinkaan enää ihmeteltävältä, että morsiamen:

suru syämmelle panihe, vesi silmille vetihe ja että hän itkee rajusti,
runsaat, virtaavat kyyneleet. — Iloinen hääjuhla on kärjistynyt mitä
katkerimmaksi suruksi. Morsian, joka kiihkeimmin on tätä juhlaa
odottanut, odottanut hetkeä saada lähteä omaan uuteen kotiinsa,
näkeekin itsensä turvattomaksi, tunteekin lähtevänsä

kuin syksyisen yön sylihin, keväisen kierän päälle.

Ja kun kansanruno saa kuvataksensa ihmissielun synkkyyttä, niin

siihen se käyttää kaikkein voimakkaimmat värinsä. Se tuntee silloin
kuvaavansa oman kansan pohjatunnetta.

Morsiamen mieltä voi verrata vain kaikkein mustimpiin esineihin:

tok' ei muut muretta tunne, kanna kaihoista syäntä, kuin

kannan minä katala, kannan mustoa muretta, syäntä
syennäköistä, huolta hiilen karvallista.

Ja saadakseen oikein nähdä, miten surullinen mielensä on,

morsian ikäänkuin kysyy itseltään, minkälainen mieli on onnellisilla
ihmisillä ja vastaa siihen:

niin on mieli miekkoisien, autuaallisten ajatus, kuin

keväinen päivän nousu, kevätaamun aurinkoinen.
 Ja kun hän sitten tähän vertaa omaa mielialaansa, niin hänen
täytyy tunnustaa, että hänen sydämensä

on kuin laaka lammin ranta, kuin pimeä pilven ranta, kuin

syksyinen yö pimeä, talvinen on päivä musta, viel' on
mustempi sitäkin, synkeämpi syksy-yötä.

Ja itsestään hän sanoo:

olen kuin alli aallokossa, tavi laajalla lahella, uiessa vilua

vettä, vettä jäistä järkyttäissä.

Ja niille, jotka arvelevat, ettei hänellä hupakolla olisi ollenkaan

huolia eikä raskaita ajatuksia, hän vastaa:

enemp' on minulla huolta, kuin on koskessa kiviä, pajuja

pahalla maalla, kanervia kankahalla.

Ja ne ovat niin raskaita, että

hepo ei jaksaisi veteä, rautakisko kingotella, ilman luokin

lekkumatta, vempelen värisemättä.

Mutta kansanruno on sovinnollinen. Se ei tahdo lähettää

morsianta uuteen kotiin mieli täynnä tulevaisuuden pelkoa.
Kansanruno tietää, että ihminen suruihin tarvitsee ei vain itkua, vaan
myöskin rohkaisua. Siksi kansanruno antaa lattialla leikkivän lapsen,
joka vielä lapsen silmällä katselee elämää, lausua elämään
luottamuksen sanat morsiamelle:

ei sinua suolle vieä, ojavarrellen oteta, vievät

viljamättähältä, vievät vielä viljemmälle, ottavat oluttuvilta,
ottavat oluemmille.
 Miehen mitä kunnollisimman, talon mitä paraimman morsian saa.
Miehen uhkeutta runotar osoittaa kuvaamalla hänen hevosensa
valjaitten upeutta, niissä kun on:

pyyhyet pyräjämässä, vempelellä vieremässä, rastahat

iloitsemassa, rahkehilla laulamassa, kuusi kultaista käkeä
länkilöillä lekkumassa, seitsemän siniotusta reen kokalla
kukkumassa.

Vieläkin paremman kuvan runotar lapsen suun kautta antaa

miehen toimeliaisuudesta. Tässäkin runo käyttää omaa
kuvaustapaansa: se ei kerro ainoastaan miehestä itsestään, vaan
osoittaakseen, miten uuttera metsämies sulho on, runo mainitsee
hänen jousensa ja koiransa:

ei sen jouset jouten olle, viinet vasamilla venyne, koirat ei

ne koissa maanne, pennut pehkuilla levänne.

Mutta miehellekin annetaan tunnustus aikaisesta metsässä olosta:

kolmasti tänä keväinä, aivan aika huomenessa, nousi

nuotiotulelta, havasi havusijalta, kolmasti tänä keväinä, kaste
on silmille karissut, havut päänsä harjaellut, varvat vartalon
sukinut.

Vihdoin itse talokin saa kiitoksen varakkuudesta ja hyvässä

kunnossa olemisesta:

onpa tällä sulhollamme korvet koivin kulkevia, särkät säärin

juoksevia; sata on sarven kantajata, tuhat tuojoa utaren,
aumoja joka aholla, purnuja joka purolla, lepikköiset
leipämaina, ojavieret ohramaina.
 Siksipä saattaakin lapsi lohduttaa morsianta:

anna huolia hevosen, murehtia mustan ruunan, rautasuisen

surkutella, suuripäisen päivitellä, hevosell' on pää parempi,
pää parempi, luu lujempi, kaulan kaari kantavampi, koko
ruumis runsahampi.

Olemme siis nähneet kansan kuvakielen käyttämisellä

tarkoittaneen saada esityksen selvemmäksi, voimakkaammaksi ja
vaihtelevammaksi. Sen sijaan, että sanottaisiin asia aivan tavallisilla
sitä merkitsevillä sanoilla, käytetään toisia sanoja kuvaannollisesti
ilmaisemaan kysymyksessä olevaa seikkaa. Tavallisimpia kuvakielen
kaunistusseikkoja on esitettävän asian vertaaminen johonkin toiseen
samanlaiseen asiaan. Niin näemme esim. neidon asemaa
verrattavan kuninkaan asemaan linnassaan. Kun siis
jokapäiväisessä puheessa esim. sanottaisiin: mieli on surullinen, niin
kuvakielessä taas etsitään joku vertaus, musta väri tai syksy-yö ja
sanotaan: kannan mustoa murettu, syäntä syen näköistä; sydämeni
on kuin syksyinen yö synkkä j.n.e. Tai kun suorasanaisessa
esityksessä kerrottaisiin, miten mies on aikaisin aamulla
metsästämässä, niin runollisessa kuvakielessä etsitään kauniimpaa
ilmaisutapaa, muistutetaan, kuten näemme, aikaisesta
aamukasteesta, joka ikäänkuin pesee kasvot, metsän oksista, jotka
sukivat pään ja harjaavat vaatteet.

Toisinaan taasen kuvakieli katsoo kauniimmaksi kutsua jotakin

esinettä sen jonkun osan nimellä tai sen aineen nimellä, josta se on
tehty. Niin näimme lehmää kutsuttavan sarven kantajaksi tai utaren
tuojaksi. Sitä huntua taasen, joka naimisissa olevan naisen erotti
naimattomasta tytöstä, sanotaan vain pellavaksi tai palttinaksi.
Erittäin huomauttaisin säkeistä, joissa kuvataan apen ja anopin
tapaa kohdella miniätään. Miniähän saa kuulla: »apen luista
leukaluuta, anopin kivistä kieltä», jossa siis puheen tylyyttä,
kovuutta, verrataan luuhun, kiveen ja itse puhumista ilmaisevat
leukaluu ja kieli, s.o. puhumisen apuelimet.

Se seikka, mikä kuvakielelle aina antaa kaikkein omituisimman ja

viehättävimmän leimansa on kaikki personoiva s.o. kaikki
havaittavasti olemassaolevaksi, vieläpä eläväksikin tekeminen.
Eläimet, kasvit, koko luonto, ihmisominaisuudet, tunteet, ilot, surut,
kaikki nähdään elollisesti olevana ja toimivana. Niinpä surut
kuvitellaan voitavan siirtää toiselle, hevonen esim. ne muka
paremmin kantaa, koska se on voimakkaampi. Toisinaan taasen
surut kuvitellaan aineellisesti oleviksi, todellisesti raskaiksi, niin että
hevosenkin on niitä raskasta reessä vetää. Tuo naineen naisen
merkki, huntu, taasen kuvataan siksi välikappaleeksi, joka muka tuo
naiselle huolia ja suruja:

kunis huiskit hunnutoinna, sinis huiskit huoletoinna, kunis

liikuit liinatoinna, liikuit liioitta suruitta, äsken huntu huolta
tuopi, palttina pahoa mieltä, liina liikoja suruja, pellava
perättömiä.

Yhtä sattuvasti runo asettaa hevosen ja reen osoittamaan sitä

odottavaa jännitystä, jota kaikki tuntevat morsiamen lähtöhetkenä:

oro suitsia purevi, reki neittä vuottelevi.

Kuvakieli on olemassaolevan eläväksi tekemistä, sellaista eläväksi

tekemistä, joka vain luontoa lähellä olevalle ihmiselle on mahdollista.
Mekin nautimme kuvakielestä, mutta emme siten kuin luonnon
ihminen. Me ihailemme kuvakieltä kuin valmista taideteosta, mutta
me emme voi tuntea sitä välitöntä ihastusta, minkä tuntee
taideteoksen luoja, kuvakielen synnyttäjä. Kasvaneina kehittyneessä
yhteiskunnassa, usein vääriin suuntiin menevän sivistyksen
ympäröiminä me voimme ainoastaan kaihoten katsoa sen karkeata
korpea raivanneen kansan puoleen, joka ankaran elämän alla on
säilyttänyt niin eloisan, luonnonvaikutuksille, kaikelle luonnon
kauniille ja syville ihmistunteille niin alttiin sielun.

Puhuimme alussa kansanrunoutemme suuresta merkityksestä

suomalaiselle sivistykselle ja näimmekin, että jos
kuvaamataiteestamme, musiikistamme ja kirjallisuudestamme
lohkaistaisiin pois se, mikä niissä on kansanrunon pohjalla
syntynyttä, niin suomalaiseen sivistykseen muodostuisi ammottava
aukko. Mutta kansanrunoudellamme ja etupäässä juuri
Kalevalallamme on sellaisenaankin ollut suuri merkitys koko
suomalaiselle kansalle. Sen kautta meidän kansamme on
ensimäisen kerran pysyväisesti vetänyt puoleensa ulkomaittenkin
huomion. Ja kotimaassakin oli Kalevalan ilmestyminen omiaan
synnyttämään Suomen suomalaisessa kansassa itseluottamusta,
jota se tarvitsi noustakseen omintakeiseen elämään. Ja Snellmanin
taistelulle suomalaisen kansallisuuden oikeuksien puolesta oli
kansanrunoudessamme varma pohja. Siinähän oli todistus sen
heimon henkisistä lahjoista, jolle oikeuksia vaadittiin. Oli siis takeet,
että tämä heimo ja tämä kieli myös ansaitsi sen aseman, mikä sille
tahdottiin.

Katsommepa siis kansanrunouttamme miltä puolen tahansa, me

näemme sen aina olevan mukana suomalaisen kansan henkisissä
riennoissa. Ei siis ole aiheeton se yhä lisääntyvä kiintymys, millä se
meitä puoleensa vetää, eikä se huomio, minkä se osakseen saa.
KALEVALAISTEN KOTIELÄMÄÄ

Esittänyt Elsa Hästesko

Laajassa pirtissä vallitsee sankka pimeys. Kaikki nukkuvat. Mutta

kohta jo kohoaa nuorimman miniän pää vuoteelta ja kuulostaa. Sillä
raskaan unenkin painostaessa hän muistaa:

konsa kukko kerran lauloi, viel' ei toista virkkanunna, silloin

nuorten nousuaika, vanhojen lepuuaika.

Kun ei mitään kuulu, painuu pää takaisin hurstia vastaan. Hetken

kuluttua kapsahtaa nuorin miniä ylös uudelleen. Hän kuulostaa,
ihmettelee. Hän lähtee ulos katsomaan, jokohan Otavalla on

sarvet suorahan suvehen, pursto perin pohjaisehen.

Silloin huomaa hän, että on aika jo kiireesti

nousta luota nuoren sulhon, saa'a viereltä verevän, saa'a

tulta tuhkasista, valkeata vakkasesta, tuli puikkohon puhua
lienosti levittämättä.
 Nuorikko panee sukkelasti hameensa nauhat kiinni, pyyhkäisee
kasvoiltaan pois tukkansa ja alkaa puhaltaa tulta päreeseen hiilistä.
Mutta tuli ei ota syttyäkseen. Lienevät hiilet tulleet huonosti
kätketyiksi eilisiltana, vai mikä niillä. Kylläpäs ne muulloin päreen
tuleen tupsauttivat. Ei auta muu kuin mennä kaivelemaan miesten
taskuista

— piitä pikkaraisen tauloa taki vähäisen.

Tuluksilla nuorikko »iskee tulta tuikahuttaa», ja kohta roihuaa päre

pihdissä.

Jo on aika muuta nuorempaa väkeä herätellä, sillä

suur' on läävä läänittävä, karja suuri katsottava.

Hiljaa supatellen ja virsuja jalkaan työnnellen siitä läävään

lähdetään. Pitkän yökauden ovat lehmät, hevoset ja lampaat
odotelleet

heinän hienon heittäjäistä, apilan ojentajaista,

ja siksipä oven avautuessa tulijoita tervehtääkin nälkäinen

ammunta ja hirnunta. Sakea höyry tunkeutuu läävästä ulos. Läävä
on niin matala, että isommat ihmiset saavat melkein kyyryllään
heitellä lampaille tupposia ja kantaa sioille purtiloita.

Sill'aikaa kuin toiset nuoret naiset olivat läävässä, niin

— piika pikkarainen, vaimo valkeanverinen, pesi siitä pitkät

pöyät, laajat lattiat lakaisi, vastasella varpaisella, luutasella
lehtisellä; ammueli rikkasensa vaskisehen vakkasehen.
 Ja koska häntä oli varoitettu tunkiota talon lähelle tekemästä, niin
hän

vei ne ulos usta myöten, perimmäisen pellon päähän,

pellolle pihoa myöten, alimmaisen aian suuhun.

Läävästä palaava naisväki löytää siis siivotun tuvan ja muut

aikuiset ylhäällä. Pari lastakin on herännyt. He kärhentelevät
paitasillaan vanhan emännän ympärillä pyydellen:

anna leipeä kätehen, vuole voita leivän päälle!

Miehet kaivelevat kirveitään ja puukkojaan ruvetakseen

puhdetöihin. Naisväestä taas useimmat liikkuvat joko
suuruspuuhissa tai lastensa tarpeita tyydytellen. Toiset korjailevat
vaatteita tai kehräävät.

Nuorin miniä jää vielä suuruksen syötyä oluthaarikoita,

piimätuoppeja ja puuvateja keräämään — höyrysihän hänellä jo
kuuma vesi puukaukalossa ja olihan astiain pesua varten hiekat ja
huosiamet varattuna, — kun jo muut olivat muille töille lähteneet.
Taikinanpanopuuhissaan

anoppi aitasta tulevi jauhovakka kainalossa.

Hänellä se päähuoli elannosta on:

pere suuri syötettävä, murkinainen suorittava, leipä paksu

leivottava, taikina taputettava.

Miniät ja tyttäret taasen ovat saaneet työkseen, mikä ohran

survomisen huhmaressa, mikä hurstien huuhtelemisen, sotkujen
sotkemisen, kenelle taas on määrätty:
 iltasaunan saapuessa veet vetele, vastat kanna, hauo
vastat valmihiksi saunahan savuttomahan.

Mutta kaikkein raskaimmassa työssä ovensuussa on

tuo orja alinomainen, rahan pantu palkkalainen,

sillä hänellä on

paasi paksu jauhettava, jauhot hienot seulottavat.

Ja liian sen saa hän tuntea:

paasi paksu, jauhot hienot, jauhaja vähäväkinen.

Raskaat käsinkivet pyörivät hitaasti ympäri, yhä vain ympäri. Orja

vääntää voimiensa takaa, ja kuitenkin singahtaa tuon tuostakin
talonväen suusta moittiva sana hitaudesta. Apea mieli painuu
vieläkin apeammaksi. Siksipä talonväen huomaamatta, melkein
orjan itsensäkin huomaamatta luistaa hiljainen laulu huulilta:

monipa minulla onpi, usia olettelevi virkkaja vihaisen äänen,

äänen tuiman tuikuttaja; ei ole minulla monta, tieä en raukka
yhtäkänä suin sulin puhelijata, kiukahalle käskijätä, uunille
uhittajata tuppurista tultuani, satehesta saatuani, kylmästä
kyhättyäni. Turkin helma tuppurissa, viitan helmat viehkurissa,
hallassa hamehen helmat.

(Kanteletar.)

Mutta kuuluupa tuvan toisesta nurkasta toivorikkaampi laulu. Eräs

miniöistä siellä lastaan kehdossa tuudittelee:
 Tuuvin, tuuvin poikaani, vaapotan vakaistani tuikseni
tuulisäällä, varakseni vastasäällä.

Tuuli tuuti poioistani, tuuti miestä poiastani, kyntäjätä,

kylväjätä, varsan viejeä vaolle, mustan ruunan mullokselle!

(K:tar.)

Äiti kumartuu katsomaan, joko unen verho alkaa peittää

kirkkaita silmiä. Ne vain lämpimästi hymyilevät huomatessaan
äidin. Äiti alkaa uuden laulun:

Tuuti lasta, tuuti pientä, tuuti lasta nukkumahan! Laulan

lasta nukkumahan, uuvutan unen rekehen; käy unonen
kätkemähän, poik' unosen ottamahan, kultaisehen korjahasi,
hopeaisehen rekehen! Sitten saatua rekehen, kopattua
korjahasi ajele tinaista tietä, vaskitannerta tasaista; vieös
tuonne vienoistani, kuletellos kullaistani harjulle hopiavuoren,
kultavuoren kukkulalle, hopiaisehen salohon, kultaisehen
koivikkohon, kussa käet kullan kukkui, lauleli hopialinnut.

(K:r.)

Jo huomaa äiti pienen luomen painuvan silmän suojaksi. Äidin

sydämessä värähtää. Hän alottaa hellävaroen kauneimman
laulunsa:

Tuuti tuuti tummaistani, tummaisessa tuutusessa,

tummaisella tuutijalla, tuvan tummaisen sisässä…

(K:r.)
 Ja laulaessaan unelmoi äiti poikansa tulevaisuudesta
kullanhohtoisia unelmoita. Sillä olihan äiti jo pojan syntymästä asti
toivonut hänestä

laaullista laulajata, kunnollista kukkujata, kaunista

karehtijata.

Sitä varten oli äiti taikoen pessyt pojan

kolmasti kesäisnä yönä, yheksästi syksy-yönä

ja pestessään manannut

joka tielle tietäjäksi, joka maalle malttajaksi.

Miehet alkavat palailla ulkotöiltään. Silloin on nuorikon kiireesti

vieminen vesiropehet, käsipyyhe kantaminen,

että miehet saavat puhdistautua ruualle käydessään. Talkkuna

höyryää pöydässä hyvän viljavuuden ja emäntien hyväntuulen
merkkinä, piimä on parahiksi hapanta, mielet virkeitä. Mutta vanha
isäntä, joka on ollut saunassa rannalla nuottaa korjaamassa,
muistelee, ett'ei kaikilla ole näin hyvin, moni parast'aikaa
murkinaleiväkseen

lemettisen leikkoavi, olkisen ojentelevi, petäjäisen

peiputtavi.

Nuoremmat miehet tuskin toisten puutteeseen kiinnittävät

huomiota. He vain puhuvat töistään. Kenellä on ollut

kirves tylsä tahkottava,

 kellä taasen

pölkky paksu leikattava, pino suuri pilkottava,

tai

halko hieno latjattava;

jokunen oli ollut metsässä halkopuita vetämässä. Vilkkaimmin

kaikista puhuu talon nuorin poika,

hivus keltainen korea, kengän kanto kaunokainen.

Hänessä on sepän vikaa, ja sepät ovat harvinaisia ja suvulle

kunniaksi, sen tietää koko perhe. Hän kehoittelee veljiään karhun
kaadantaan. Sitä varten hän on juuri saanut valmiiksi keihäänsä,
jossa

heponen selalla seisoi, varsa vaapui lappealla, susi ulvoi

suoverolla, karhu karjui naulan tiessä.

Vaimoväki, joka istuu alapäässä pöytää, kuuntelee tarkkaan

miesten puheita ja supattelee hiljaa keskenään. Vanha emäntä
kuitenkin vähän kovemmalla äänellä huomauttaa, että olisi riihelle
lähdettävä huomisaamuna.

Päivällislevot levättyä pimenee jo ilta ja on ruvettava puhdetöille.

Uusia päreitä pannaan pihtiin. Työreet ja kyläreet vedetään esiin.
Samoin pienemmät käsityöt, oluthaarikat, kirvesvarret, saavien
vanteet.
Naisista taas mikä kangaspuihin istuu, mikä värttinän ottaa. Nuoret
tytöt, jotka ovat vanhan kosijan tullessa kehuneet
 ottavansa kullat kulmiltahan, hopeat hivuksiltahan, sinisilkit
silmiltähän, punalangat päänsä päältä,

kaivavat kirstuistansa koristeompeluksensa juhlapukuihinsa.

Muuan heistä menee veljeään seppoa pyytelemään uuden solen
tekoon. Työn touhussa alkaa puhekin luistaa. Kyläreen tekijä,
lähinnä nuorin pojista, kertoo saaninsa valmihiksi saatuaan
ottavansa

— olkisen orihin, hernevartisen hevosen

ja lähtevänsä kosiin. Siitä on tuleva uljas matka. Ajoneuvot pitää

olla komeat, sillä hän on laittava

— kuusi kukkulaista, seitsemän siniotusta vempelille

riekumahan, rahkehille raukumahan, jotta kannot katsahtaisi,
impyet ihasteleisi.

Ja lähtiessään sanoisi hän orjalleen:

kanna tuohon karhun talja päällä istuellakseni, tuopa toinen

turskan talja kirjokorjan katteheksi.

Siitä sitten sanat sukeavat huomautukset säestävät melkein

jokaisen puhetta. Vihdoin ruvetaan arvuuttelemaan. Toinen
koetetaan saada ahtaalle. Jos hän arvaa kaikki vanhat arvuutukset,
keksitään uusia. Ja kun toinen ei arvaa, silloin hänelle yleisen
naurunremahduksen aikana luetaan:

hyi, hyi, Hymylään, Hymylän koirat haukkumaan. »Käykää

lapset katsomahan, mitä Halli haukkuu, luppakorva
lupsostaa.» »Tuota Halli haukkuu…»
 (K:r.)

Mutta kesken nuorien ilon alkaa takan luona omissa mietteissään

oleva vanha isäntä laulaa:

Mieleni minun tekevi, aivoni ajattelevi, lähteäni laulamahan,

saa'ani sanelemahan, sukuvirttä suoltamahan. lajivirttä
laulamahan.

Lapsuudenmuistoihinsa vaipuneena hän jatkaa:

niit' ennen isoni lauloi kirvesvartta vuollessansa, niitä äitini

opetti väätessänsä värttinätä minun lasna lattialla eessä
polven pyöriessä, maitopartana pahaisna, piimäsuuna
pikkaraisna.

Sitten kertoo vanhus ääni värähdellen, missä on itse uusia lauluja

sepitellyt:

Lasna karjan laitumilla, metisillä mättähillä, kultaisilla

kunnahilla, mustan Muurikin jälessä. Kimmon kirjavan keralla
vilu mulle virttä virkkoi, säe saatteli runoja, virttä toista tuulet
toivat, meren aaltoset ajoivat, linnut liitteli sanoja, puien latvat
lausehia….

Hiljaa ovat nuoret, kaikki hartaina kuuntelevat. Lämpimänä,

kaihoisana lekkaa tuli takassa, päreet ovat huomaamatta palaneet
pitkälle karstalle, hiljaa pyörivät värttinät, ääneti vilahtelevat
viipsinpuut.

Mutta ulkona pakkasessa