1. A Year and a Day #2
When the year and a day finished, he'd leave.
At least one other family had asked Kai for Seelah's hand, now that all could see her fertility as well as her household skills.
Tuathal needed to return north, and to see other lands and hear new songs.
The traveling fever had wakened in his bones once more.
He'd learned as many tales and such as he could in this part of the world.
Too, the prospect of working through another winter held no appeal.
His younger brother's court had far more delights better suited to his skills.
Were those not enough, awan had begun to move in him once more, all the more reason to go to a place better suited to his gifts.
Early the next morning he stepped outside, carrying his heavy traveling staff.
The oaken staff reached to his shoulder, solid seasoned wood, a good defense against men and otherwise.
Tuathal stretched, then began with basic parries and blows, fighting an unseen foe.
Before the sun cleared the edge of the world, Deri joined him.
The two worked separately, then turned and faced each other.
They saluted, touching the tops of their staves together, then backed away.
Tuathal studied his opponent, then lunged, attacking hard and fast. Deri met him blow for blow.
Deri stood a few fingers shorter, more lightly built, and fast. Tuathal had training and size, making them well matched.
The clack and clatter of their blows sounded in the morning quiet, disturbing a few birds.
The fight ended in a draw for once. Deri touched his forehead with two fingers as Tuathal bowed and grinned. "Ye fear the sheep so much?" he teased.
"Sheep? Nay, but the he-goat up the road? He fills me with terror and turns my bowels to water." Deri winked.
"Two-legged goat, or four?"
"You know. Four. Two-legged goats don't bother me." He wiggled thick yellow eyebrows and grinned in turn.
Tuathal snorted and leaned on the staff. He'd worked up a sweat, even in the cool of the morning. Deri likewise. "How fare the sheep?"
Deri sobered. "No signs of change or danger." He glanced over his shoulder and made a sign against magic with his right hand. "The old ewe, though. Idwal swears she gave him a hard look, and not just because he misses his woman's touch."
Tuathal sifted words before he spoke. "The ewe was steady and calm yesterday.
Not as if she'd been magic touched, but quiet and ready to return here.
" He shook his head and made a different sign against trouble.
"Rowan, the rods, the water showed nothing uncanny.
" Except for the flock's docile and steady way of going, that was.
"I know nothing else to do," Deri said. He shrugged. "A rowan smudge at midsummer, but rolling them does nothing if the enchantment's not known."
"No. Rowan smudge and watching, that's all." Tuathal shrugged to himself.
Three days passed before his turn on night watch came.
He preferred the long watch, the middle of the night.
He needed quiet and solitude, time for music and words to come to him of their own will.
Unlike his teachers, he could not command them.
Tuathal carried his staff, a sling, and a borrowed spear.
Wolves remained in the north this season, up where the deer and other game remained thick and men rare.
Come winter, well, he'd not be here for that, if the gods favored him.
Tuathal let his eyes relax as he stared up.
Thin veils half-concealed the stars, hiding the faintest from view.
The guide stars, and the wandering stars, remained clear.
No rain, but dew, perhaps. A good omen for the crops.
He turned his attention back to the fields and scrub around the pasture.
Only once had someone troubled the sheep at night.
Deri had sounded the alarm, and the men had dealt with the intruder.
They'd not asked his clan, but drove him off with a broken arm and cracked head, among other gifts.
Any man who traveled by night off the main road and who failed to call out a warning to others of his presence and intent received buffets and blows, or worse, as his welcome.
That was the law, be he of the Dunalaid or of Brytheen.
Tuathal listened. A few sheep moved in the darkness, but most dozed or chewed their cud in quiet.
"Who? Who?" An owl called to the south, perhaps from the great dead tree to the east on the old way.
Nothing answered the query. The cool air touched his face, then moved on, wind from the western sea.
He smelled smoke, and a faint sourness from the trees along the stream.
The heavy scent of turned earth would rise come dawn, unless dew held the scent to the ground.
Tuathal walked farther along the narrow way around the pasture and settlement.
Far away, a dog barked once. The old ewe raised her head and stared at him.
He met her gaze, then touched his fingers to his chest and inclined in a salute.
She returned to her rest. That ... was not proper for a sheep.
What do they know, the beasts of the field?
What do they see, the birds on the wing?
Words flowed into his mind, flowed like the white burn in the meadow.
Tuathal took them, locked them into his memory.
He would add notes come the dawn. Glanmore, a fellow student, had jested that Tuathal's inspiration came as a cat, visiting only when it willed and then teasing before granting the gift of its presence.
He had not argued, much. He was no wise priest, to speak to the gods and obtain answers, or read wisdom in the flight of birds and rustle of leaves.
His words came to him without power, most of the time.
The awan moved as it would. Tuathal made a small gesture toward the darkest part of the sky.
The waist high bushes on the far side of the grain field moved.
Tuathal drew his spear from the case and waited, watching the side of the brambles.
Nothing good could pass through them. Grunts, soft, then louder, and a squeal of protest. A deeper grunt sounded from behind the brushes.
Piglet squeals from the brambles, and the motion stopped.
He waited, watching, ready to run if the sow came toward him.
Only a fool took on a sow in the darkness.
His spear wouldn't stop her, had no crossbar to keep her from coming up the shaft to take him with her into a new life.
The grunting and piggy complaints faded as the sow and her piglets went the other way.
Tuathal relaxed and returned the spear to the case.
He returned to the dwelling when Arfon came to take his place. "Sow and piglets, went that way," Tuathal pointed.
"Good to know." Arfon moved his spear case for better reach as Tuathal made his way through the moonless dark. He returned the borrowed spear exactly where he'd found it, lest trouble come down onto his head.
Hints of water drops had begun to appear on the grass and stones of the ground.
A good dew, or so he guessed. Tuathal hesitated, then moved the hides draping the door of Kai's dwelling and entered.
He'd ache from sleeping in the dew, and he'd be sleeping out later in the year, perhaps.
He stripped to the waist, removed his boots, and lay down beside Seelah.
She smiled in her sleep and rolled closer.
He held her, mindful of her full belly. She'd deliver just before harvest, or so the wise woman said.
That was woman's magic, not his. His body began to respond to her scent and touch.
He ignored it. To join with a woman after her sixth month was forbidden, lest the child come too soon, or bear marks of the coupling.
His mother's sister had beaten that into her husband, her sister's husband, and all men's sons.
Tuathal did not need to relearn the lesson for himself.
He checked the words in his memory, then slipped into sleep for as long as he could.
That day, just after the sun crossed the peak of the sky, a stranger approached on the road, coming from the west. Eluvie saw him coming and frowned. Tuathal and Deri stopped their work and waited. "Go, watch, and see if he comes alone," the old woman ordered.
The men walked down to the road, staves in hand.
The stranger slowed his steps as he observed them, waiting.
That was good, perhaps. "Greetings to field," the man called, hands in the open and empty save for his own travel staff.
A bunch of wolf-bane hung from the top of the staff, and Tuathal relaxed.
An herb hunter, or perhaps even cunning man, then.
The stranger carried a large pack on a good sturdy frame, and several clay bottles hung from thongs around the base of the pack. Deri too relaxed.
"Greetings to the road," Deri called back. He and Tuathal stopped and waited.
The stranger smiled, revealing uneven teeth stained reddish brown. "I am Lorcan from Tailaw. I seek madder, yarrow, and blue-leaf. Have you any to trade?"
"We might," Deri replied. "Come and speak with our wise woman. She knows of such. Be welcome on the way and at the fire." He moved clear of the small trail that led from the old way to the settlement.
"My thanks for the welcome and for the way." Lorcan followed the men to where Eluvie worked. Kai now stood with her. The old man beckoned, and Tuathal followed. He wanted to hear the news, but he owed guest duty to Seela's father.