8. The Lay and the Land #2
Louder sounds, of a man calling to the servants, then of complaining beasts and encouraging men reached him.
He hurried to the cow gate and found the latches.
It swung out from the pasture, and he pulled it, then dragged it as wide open as he could.
That much he could contribute to the raid.
He moved well clear of gate and wall, out of the reach of horns, hoofs, and confused cattle.
"... What do you expect, from what the allav and others told us?" Darragh said, irritation in his voice.
"That the cattle would act like cattle, not trained dogs," Cathal snapped. "This I do not like."
Tuathal stared as the warriors encouraged at least five hands of cattle into the pasture.
The beasts walked in pairs, like yoked oxen, a line of cattle.
As they reached the open gateway, they went single file without being prompted.
Four horses came along as well, and a trio of sheep.
One of the sheep glared at him before entering the gate.
Darragh closed the wooden gate behind the sheep, shaking his head as he did. "Have you seen the like?"
"Not without someone working a spell on them, no, and not cattle and sheep together." He truly did need to make the rowan rods and stroke the beasts, if he could without getting stepped on or gored.
The animals scattered out in the pasture, a few drinking from the burn while the rest bedded down or grazed.
The sheep moved to a corner, likely muttering to themselves about being forced to keep company with mere cows.
The horses rolled, grazed, and dozed uphill of the spring.
Tuathal watched a little longer. Now the beasts acted like proper beasts, not dogs. He went to find Fiachta.
"There you are. Know you any of these?" the low king demanded, pointing to the bound captives.
Tuathal came closer. One of the older men ...
Tuathal rested one hand on the beast-guard's shoulder.
"Yes. This man led the arms men and servants who offered me proper hospitality after their master denied and insulted me.
I gave them my blessing to spare them from what was to come of their lord's rudeness. "
"Release him, and give him food and drink," Fiachta commanded.
The instant the warriors undid his bonds, the guard knelt before Tuathal. "Thank you, master allav, thank you. Nothing good has graced Pyder's halls since the night he insulted you, master allav."
"You are welcome. You kept faith and did your host duty to a guest." Tuathal moved out of the way as two servants helped the man to his feet and led him to where food and water waited.
"I do not remember the others, for good or ill.
" The stripling in the bond-servant's collar had not been in the hall.
As tattered and poor as his clothing was, he might have been out with the sheep, or sleeping in the stables.
"One guard fought," Fiachta said, frowning. "These yielded to us as soon as the guard's life left his body."
One of Pyder's kindred and clan? Or someone more brave than wise? Both were possible. Tuathal gestured understanding.
Fiachta gestured to the other captives. "Take these off, near the cattle. Do no harm to them unless they cause trouble."
"Yes, oh king." Rian and two others encouraged the prisoners into the night.
After he had eaten and drank, Fiachta asked, low voiced, "What think you of the cattle?"
"They are healthy, and now act as proper cattle, horses, and sheep, oh king," Tuathal replied in an instant. "Come the morning I will test them for curses, unless the priests say otherwise."
Fiachta grunted. "Did you ever see or hear tell of ...?" He waved toward the walled pasture.
"Yes, once I watched sheep walk themselves home after they had been lifted with spell and weapons both.
I touched them with hazel and water from a white-headed burn, and they carried no magic with them, but ...
" He thought about the white-eyed ewe and how she'd acted.
"The sheep seemed a little too wise for a few days.
Not cunning enough to get loose, but as if they knew something.
It passed after a handful of days." He shook his head and shrugged. "I'd not seen the like before."
Fiachta had been listening closely, Odhran and a few others likewise. "Master Allav," Odhran began. "Could the beasts have been sent away by Morak and Kaidor?"
A very wise question, and one for which he had no answer.
"I do not know. There are tales of Kaidor, Manawn, and others encouraging beasts to flee before floods and flames, and Manawn called the fish and seals away before the great land swallowing that befell Kallia, but I am no wise one to speak for the gods.
" He shivered. Some things he did not desire to know.
The snapping of wood in the fire's tongues made more sound than did the king and his warriors. At last Odhran shook all over and said, "If they all turn to rocks in the morning, we'll know."
"What if they turn into beautiful women?" Cathal said, eyebrows wiggling.
"You can have the sheep," came the snapped answer.
"I value my life, and I sleep more deeply than does my wife.
" With that the old warrior bowed to the king and went to take his post watching the beasts.
Tuathal did not roll his eyes at the old jests and nudges.
Who had not heard them all at least once?
Wasn't there a tale of a monster born from a queen who coupled with a bull because of a curse?
One of the traveling merchants from the far southern lands had mentioned something like that, but what?
Tuathal watched the fire and searched his memory.
No, he'd heard no more than that the story was known in the south, not the tale as it was.
He found a place to sleep and did so. Fiachta would send the guard's head to Pyder as a message and warning, and a wise man would sleep now, while things were quiet.
A clear dawn washed the world in light. Tuathal went into the closest bit of true forest and after a little searching, found a rowan tree with several thin, young branches.
He also found signs of a large swine's digging and rooting.
Tuathal bowed to the rowan. "Tree of the forest, a bard asks your favor," he chanted.
"Tree of the forest, a bard craves a boon.
Tree of goodness, a bard asks a token. Tree of goodness, a bard trades a tune.
" He sang the tale of the Rowan of Altclyt, the great tree that held back Briciu the Dark in the days of world shaking.
Two of the small, still-lithe branches dropped off as he finished.
He bowed low and gathered them. "Great thanks I offer, oh tree of light.
Light of dawning bathe your branches, branches strong and handsome, handsome and wise is the tree of light.
" He hurried back to the camp. Meeting the pig that had so churned up the ground would not make his task easier, nor would it add days to his life.
More like shorten his days even more than would challenging an iron smith to a drinking contest, or insulting Aisling the Bold.
Once in the open, he slowed his steps and watched the men and women in the king's camp.
The captive bond servant worked beside one of the water servants, learning, or so it seemed.
Had the boy been sold to Pyder, or taken on a raid, or given as payment for a fine or rent?
Any might be the case. Several arms men tended their weapons, while others watched the cattle or cared for their horses if the drivers had not.
No true warrior trusted horse or blade unseen.
Nor did any man with sense, which explained Pyder's problems. Tuathal peeled the rowan rods, careful to put the bark in a fire with words of thanks.
Rian let him into the pasture. "Priests went east, after they tested the horses. Eoghan said they needed to look at the land and waters." The warrior glanced that direction as he spoke, then faced north once again. "He did not sound pleased."
"Given that the lord claiming these lands has not given the gods their proper due, they are right to be unhappy, if that remains so." Tuathal eased farther into the enclosure, and Rian went back to watching for trouble.
No beasts grazed near the white-headed burn, so Tuathal went there first. Two cows glanced up at him from their grazing, then returned to cropping the grass.
"Waters of Braha dancing in the light, blessed are you," he murmured as he dipped the rowan into the burn just below the spring.
The cold water flowed from a gap in red and white stones, singing and burbling over darker rocks as it passed down the small streambed toward the bottom of the gentle slope of the hill.
Nothing happened. He lifted the rods from the stream and went to the closest beast, a sheep.
He stroked it head to fat tail. The sheep shook, then ate more.
None of the sheep carried magic, so he dipped the rods again, farther down from the spring, and approached a red brindled cow.
She blinked at him but did nothing more.
He lifted the rods and ran them down her back, from just behind her horns to the top of her tail.
Something quivered, then faded away, and she seemed to sigh.
A darker red cow and calf approached him and he tested the calf, then her dam.
Once more something lifted. Two more red and white cows drew near, and he rubbed them with rowan.
Both beasts walked off with lighter steps.
The light brown cows and dark gray and white oxen blinked at him, but nothing happened when he tested them for curses and magic.