Chapter 13 Brynn
Brynn
Brynn bit the inside of her cheek as Cenric walked away, heading to the fields. Her heart felt like a tangle of brambles, knotted and slicing her every time she tried to sort it out. She hadn’t realized how fond she’d grown of Cenric in such a short time.
She thought her heart had been seared away, yet despite everything, the stubborn organ had survived years of an unhappy marriage and the loss of her only child.
It would hurt to share Cenric. There was no way around that.
The puppy wiggled in Brynn’s arms and she stroked her head, shushing gently.
“What did the lord give you?” asked one of the girls, a freckled young thing that was all knees and elbows.
“A puppy.” Brynn turned to show them.
More of the girls crowded around, crying out with equal parts delight and sadness.
“Is that a dyrehund?”
“She can’t be more than a few weeks old.”
“Late in the year for a litter, wouldn’t you say?”
“Look at her tiny paws!”
Brynn let them fawn over the pup as they headed back into the house. The household workers were finishing their food and heading out to chase down Cenric. They probably wanted to be hard at work in the fields by the time he reached them.
The girls set to the tasks of cleaning trenchers and clearing scraps from the table for the dogs and the pigs.
Brynn sat by the fire, the small fur bundle in her lap. She examined the puppy carefully, feeling at the small creature’s ka. She had a few scratches. Urine stained her paws, and she was still too young to be weaned.
Brynn set to work while the girls cleared the table. She washed the pup in a basin, close to the hearth so as not to get her too cold.
Several of the dogs including Ash came and sat beside Brynn as she bathed the small creature and folded her into her apron to dry. She poured some of the morning’s goat milk into a shallow dish and let the puppy lap it up.
Thorn, the one-eyed patriarch of the pack, sat back on his haunches, observing silently.
Once she was done, Brynn folded the puppy into the crook of her arm and went back to overseeing the girls. The kitchen maids were already working to ready the evening meal. A slab of cured pork roasted over the fire and the dough for the evening’s bread was kneaded beside the hearth.
“It’s alright, little girl.” Brynn caught herself kissing the top of the fuzzy head before she quite knew what she was doing. She hadn’t had a pet in a long time. In Paega’s keep, dogs had their place. Here, the dogs seemed to be allowed everywhere.
Brynn headed out to the longhouse gardens to see to the harvesting of the peas and carrots, the dyrehund pup still tucked under her arm. She wiggled at first, but settled after a few moments, falling asleep, her belly plump and mouth stained with milk.
The weight of holding something living in her arms made something wrench in Brynn’s chest. That hollow ache that was fast becoming familiar.
Brynn kept careful track of time as the day wore on. She headed into the village with Esa and Gaitha again that afternoon to see to injuries and ailments she hadn’t gotten to the day before.
Some villages had healers or priests who saw to their sicknesses, but Brynn quickly learned that there was nothing like that here. A few of the older women were skilled in midwifery, but their old healer had died a few years ago.
Brynn had Esa hold her puppy when she needed both hands and held the puppy herself when she didn’t.
Brynn learned from a fisherman’s wife that Rowan’s father had a cough, and so Brynn went back to their house. The man was old, perhaps in his sixties. His gnarled hands showed a lifetime of hard work, and his right leg ended just below the knee.
He eyed Brynn suspiciously as she put her hands on his chest and back. She suspected he didn’t want her touching him at all, but the way his young daughter, Fern, Rowan’s little sister, stared pointedly at him, she’d gotten him to agree to her ministrations.
Coughs and illnesses were always difficult. Brynn spent the better part of an hour channeling ka into the old man’s body while working to draw out the bad ka causing the infection. Much damage had been done to his lungs and she could sense scarring.
Fern, Rowan’s sister, sat on the floor of their home and petted the puppy with Esa. They sat quietly, waiting while Brynn worked.
Apparently, Rowan was with their mother tending the goats. For that, Brynn was grateful.
While Brynn couldn’t fix the scarring without risking additional damage, Brynn was able to guide the elderly man’s body through mending as much as she could. By the time she finished, he breathed easier and no longer wheezed when he spoke.
After, Brynn looked up and saw the sun was sinking toward the mountains. Cenric should have returned to the longhouse by now.
“Esa.” Brynn gathered up her box of healing tools. “We need to be going.”
Fern leapt to her feet. “Lady, can you heal animals, too?”
Brynn hesitated. She needed to get back to Cenric, but he had lasted a whole day already and she was already here. “I might.”
“Our best milker hurt her leg a few days ago. We’ve been worried we’ll have to make her into stew, but maybe…” The girl glanced at her father. “If it’s not too much trouble?”
Brynn forced a smile. “I can’t make promises, but I can take a look.”
She followed the girl outside to the goat shed attached to the cottage. Inside, a white nanny goat with magnificent horns waited, refusing to put weight on one hoof.
Immediately, Brynn saw the accumulation of ka in the goat’s fetlock. “It’s broken,” she muttered. “Can you tie her for me so I can get a better look?”
Fern did as she was asked. She grabbed the nanny’s rope collar and hooked it to a notch in the wall.
Brynn knelt in the dirt, trying to sense as much as she could without touching. She chewed her lip, thinking.
The bones were misaligned, or at least she thought they were. So much ka had swelled around the injury, it was hard to be sure. She’d have to make sure the bones were properly set before she fused them back together, or else the goat would always walk with a limp. That could be life-threatening since most animals grazed on open pastures.
“Esa, hold her against the wall.”
Esa handed the pup to Fern and stepped up to obey.
Motion at the entrance to the shed caught Brynn’s eye. Rowan’s father stood at the door, leaning on a cane. Sadly, Brynn had no way to repair a severed limb.
“Papa, you shouldn’t be outside,” Fern protested.
“I’m fine,” he said. “Don’t let me interrupt.”
Brynn looked to Esa to make sure she was prepared. The girl gave a short nod.
No point in waiting, then.
Brynn carefully reached out to touch the goat’s leg.
The nanny writhed, head snapping from side to side against the rope.
“Sorry, girl,” Brynn crooned. “Hold on. I’m going to fix it.”
The nanny goat let off a wail, still thrashing.
Brynn grabbed the foreleg and slammed the goat’s shoulder sideways with her own. She locked the animal into a steadying hold as best she could. Not waiting for the goat to stop thrashing, she grabbed the injured fetlock.
The goat screamed again.
Brynn focused. She’d worked on uncooperative subjects before, mostly animal, but a few human. Brynn guided the ka in the animal’s body, forcing the bones back into place. She felt something snap—it was a soft sense of something sliding into place. Barely there. Bones did not align in straight lines unless helped. It took skill to recognize the correct positioning.
Brynn got the bones as close as she could and clamped her hands around the injury. She poured ka into the animal’s limb, feeling ka sear the broken pieces like molten lead.
The goat wailed, kicking and flailing. The puppy whined from across the shed and Brynn had to fight not to be knocked over. The rope snapped and Brynn had one instant of seeing the nanny’s horn swinging toward her before her head snapped back and she sprawled on the dirt floor.
“Lady!” Esa shouted.
“Lady Brynn!”
Brynn pushed herself onto her elbow just as the nanny wrenched free of Esa. The goat hopped awkwardly for several steps before putting weight on her injured foot. The goat flicked her tail indignantly and sniffed her fetlock, then trotted to the far side of the shed.
Esa was at Brynn’s side in a moment. “Lady?”
“I’m well.” Brynn felt carefully at her cheek. The goat’s horn had just missed her eye, thankfully.
“I’m so sorry, lady!” Fern was at her side the next moment. “I should have tied her better. I’m so sorry!”
Brynn patted the girl’s arm. “It’s fine.” She took her puppy back. Brynn looked to the goat, now pacing back and forth, indignant and wholly ungrateful, but using all four hooves now. “Make sure she stays inside for a few days, alright? That leg is set, but it will be tender for some time.”
“Yes, lady. Thank you so much.”
“I think we need to be heading back to the longhouse, but send word if you need anything else, alright?”
Rowan’s sister clutched Brynn’s hand. “Yes, lady. Thank you, lady.”
Brynn stepped outside, inclining her head as she passed Rowan’s father. “Same goes for you. Please send word if you need anything.”
The old man jerked his head once. Like most of the village, he was probably still deciding what to think of her.
“Lady, your face.” Esa frowned at her.
Brynn shook her head. She could feel ka building up beneath her skin. “I’ll deal with it later.”
Brynn had been working magic all day. She wanted to rest before she tried healing herself.
On the way back to the longhouse, they passed several fishermen and farmers coming in for the night. The shepherds and swineherds brought animals down from the hills into the pens. There might be an hour or so left of daylight, but it was fading fast.
“I’m not sure Rowan will appreciate you helping her family,” Esa said.
Brynn looked down to the puppy in her arms. “Rowan can feel how she wants. Her family are my people and it’s my duty to care for them. Not to make her like me.”
Esa let off a long sigh. “You will do your duty, lady. No matter what.”
Brynn wasn’t sure what to say to that.
“Don’t you…hate anyone?” Esa asked, almost hesitantly.
Brynn frowned at the girl, not sure where this was coming from. “Esa?”
The girl shook her head. “King Aelgar took your father’s kingdom.”
Brynn couldn’t let the girl speak like this. “The aldermen would never follow a woman.” Her sister had known this. “My uncle took nothing from me.”
“Paega was horrible to you.” Esa’s voice came out softer. “He always found something awful to say behind your back if not to your face, but you never did anything.”
Brynn swallowed. The reminder of her former husband’s contempt stung like nettles in her chest.
“But you never said anything back. And then…” Esa’s voice broke. “And then when I failed you…”
Brynn stopped halfway along the path to the longhouse, facing the girl. “Esa?”
Tears plucked at Esa’s eyes. “I failed you, lady. You loved your son more than anything and it was me who failed to protect him.”
“No, Esa.” Brynn grabbed her by the shoulder. “No, it wasn’t your fault.”
“But it was!” Esa’s voice broke into a sob. “I was supposed to look after him, but when the raiders came, I just…froze. I didn’t run, I didn’t fight, I didn’t…”
Brynn choked down her own tears, wrapping the arm that wasn’t holding the puppy around Esa. During all those months grieving in Ungamot, it hadn’t occurred to her that Esa might be grieving, too.
Esa sobbed against Brynn’s chest, her slight frame wracked with sorrow. “Why don’t you hate me?” she wept. “Why haven’t you punished me?”
Brynn closed her eyes, tears running down her cheeks to soak the top of Esa’s head. She couldn’t speak for several moments, dragging herself into composure. “When you told me what happened…” She stared over Esa’s head to the distant mountains. “How you froze, how you couldn’t think.” Brynn cleared her throat, trying to rid herself of the lump catching her voice. “It reminded me of the day my sister died.”
Esa drew in a shuddering breath, finally looking up to the other sorceress. “Lady?”
Brynn brushed back Esa’s pale hair, soaked in tears and snot. “When my sister’s shieldwall broke, I froze. Just like you did. I didn’t know what to do. I was so afraid.”
Esa watched Brynn with brimming eyes, pale face reddened and blotchy.
Brynn shook her head. “I ran and hid, and I don’t think I’ve ever forgiven myself for it.”
Rationally, Brynn knew she couldn’t have saved her sister, the same way Esa couldn’t have saved Osbeorn. She still felt the oily filth of shame whenever she remembered that day. Her sister had been Aelfwynn the Brave, but she had turned out to be Brynn the Coward.
“But lady, there was nothing you could have done,” Esa protested, her voice small. “They were hundreds of armed thanes, and you weren’t strong enough.”
“Yes,” Brynn agreed. At the time, she had been too inexperienced and lacked the power to do anything. Ever since, she had practiced using her magic daily as a kind of penance, but it still wouldn’t bring her sister back. “So can you forgive me for Aelfwynn?”
“Of course,” Esa said, almost whimpering.
“Then I forgive you for Osbeorn.”
Esa burst into tears again, burying her face once more into Brynn’s shoulder.
The puppy squirmed uncomfortably in her arms, whining, but Brynn held onto her and Esa while the girl wept.
She could only hope Esa would be able to let go of the guilt. Out of everyone Brynn had ever tried to forgive, forgiving herself had always been the most difficult.