Ravenheart (12 page)

“Aye. Thank you, Wyrd. And now will you tell me about this stag?”

The Wyrd smiled. “I’ll tell you this for now: When Raven the hound came to the rescue of a stag, it brought you your soul-name. It linked you to the land. Yet it was also a prophecy, Ravenheart. One day you, too, will need to rescue the stag. Now get off with you and take my herbs to Maev.”

4

B
ANNY HAD NOT
yet regained anything like his full strength, and the walk up to the hidden meadow had all but exhausted him. He lay on the grass watching Jaim Grymauch and Kaelin Ring practicing with wooden swords. The sun was shining, and the grass felt soft as a feather bed beneath him. Jaim and Kaelin were laughing and joking as they circled each other. Banny felt privileged to have been invited to join them. Even wooden swords were outlawed among the clans, and Banny felt a glow within that these two full-blooded clansmen should trust him so.

Everything seemed to be going well now. His mother had slept for three solid days but had awoken feeling stronger. She had eaten a good breakfast, and it seemed to Banny that there was color in her cheeks.

“Don’t think, boy!” roared Jaim Grymauch. “Just do!”

Kaelin leapt at him, cutting and thrusting. Jaim swayed aside. He moved very fast for a big man, parrying Kaelin’s blade and whacking his own against Kaelin’s shoulder. “I’d have had your arm off!” he shouted gleefully. “Concentrate now.”

“How can I concentrate while I’m not supposed to be thinking?” answered Kaelin.

“Concentrate on not thinking,” answered Jaim.

“That doesn’t make any sense.”

“I know, but that’s what old Lanash taught me.”

“Was he drunk at the time?”

“He was always drunk.”

“Is that someone coming up the hill?” Kaelin asked suddenly.

Jaim turned. Kaelin leapt in and struck him a blow on the buttocks. “You cheeky rascal!” yelled Jaim, and the two began to hack at each other yet again. Banny rolled to his back and stared up at the sky, wondering what it would be like to have wings like an eagle and soar through the clouds, to look down on the green earth far below, safe from any danger. Would it be cold up there, or warm because you were closer to the sun?

Banny yawned. He had spent the last few days resting, eating, and sleeping. It was a strange feeling to be without the call of hunger or the pressure of the cold, to sleep under warm and heavy blankets, his head resting on a soft pillow. Banny pressed his tongue against his teeth. They were firm now.

Life was good.

The spring feast was tomorrow. Banny, who rarely had an opportunity to eat fine foods—honey-roasted pig, wine-marinated steak, stuffed goose—was looking forward to it. Unfortunately, there was a touch of dread within the anticipation. In a crowd someone was bound to pick on him: Luss Campion or Kammel Bard—any one of a dozen Varlish youngsters. He had hoped to spend most of his time with Kaelin, but now his friend was going to the feast with Chara Ward.

Banny sat up and watched Kaelin fight. He moved swiftly and with confidence, unafraid of the pain that would come if Jaim’s wooden sword pierced his defenses. Banny wished he, too, could learn to be unafraid. The two fighters closed in on each other. Jaim tossed his sword away and grabbed Kaelin in a bear hug, and the two fell to the ground, struggling and laughing.

“Enough! Enough!” shouted Jaim, releasing the youngster. The one-eyed warrior sat up and glanced across at Banny. “Would you like a try with the swords, lad?”

“No, thank you, sir,” answered Banny.

Jaim rose to his feet and wandered across to sit beside him. For a moment Banny remembered the first time he had seen
Jaim Grymauch and the terrible fear that had swept through him. Banny had been very young then. Five or six? He could not remember. What he did recall was seeing this gigantic creature striding toward their little hut. Grymauch was so ugly that the child thought he must be a demon. His one eye seemed to glare balefully. He had a bulging sack on his shoulder, and Banny was convinced that the bodies of other little boys were held within it. As Grymauch approached, Banny screamed in fear and ran for his mother. Hearing his cries, Shula came from the hut. Seeing Grymauch, she curtseyed. Grymauch smiled, and in that moment Banny’s fear drained away. The smile was broad and infectious. Even so, Banny hid behind his mother’s skirt, peeking out at the giant.

“I know your man is away seeking work,” said Grymauch, “so I thought you might like a little extra meat.”

“Thank you, Master Grymauch, but we are doing well.”

“I didn’t doubt that,” he said swiftly, “but I owe your husband a small debt, and having no coin, this was the only way I could think of repaying him.” Dropping the sack, he opened it and drew out a large hank of ham and several small sacks. “There is sugar here, and salt, and a pot of that mustard the Varlish are so fond of. No offense,” he added.

“None taken, Master Grymauch. I shall tell my husband when he returns that you have repaid your debt.”

“Oh, this is only part of the debt,” he told her. “When I have the time and the coin, I’ll come back.”

With that he had wandered away. Jaim Grymauch had often visited after that time, dropping off food and sometimes a few daens. Banny had come to realize that there was no debt to his father. Jaim never came into the hut. Always he would stop outside, chat briefly, then leave.

The previous week, when his mother had been too weak to move and Banny had been semidelirious, Grymauch had entered. Kaelin had been with him. Banny had struggled to sit up. Grymauch had leaned over his mother’s bed and lifted her to his arms. Her dress was filthy and vomit-stained, her face
covered in a sheen of sweat. “You hang on, lass, and we’ll take you home,” he remembered Grymauch saying.

Kaelin had helped Banny to his feet and half carried him after the departing Grymauch.

Now, days later, Banny was feeling strong and the giant Grymauch was sitting beside him. “How is your mother?”

“Better, sir. Almost strong, I think.”

Jaim placed his huge hand on Banny’s shoulder. “Do not call me ‘sir.’ My name is Grymauch. It is a good name, and my friends use it.”

Banny nodded, unsure of how to respond. Kaelin joined them. He sat quietly, rubbing his forearm. “Those swords are heavy,” he said.

“The wood is hollow,” Jaim told him. “There is a center rod of lead to give them the same balance as a steel blade.” He grinned at Kaelin. “I hear you are soon to walk the tree with a young Varlish girl.”

“There’s no talk of marriage,” said Kaelin. “She is my friend, is all.”

“Then you’ll be walking your Varlish friend to the Beltine Feast?”

“You mustn’t call it Beltine. It is the Feast of the Veiled Lady. Beltine is a pagan festival, born of devil worship.”

“Pah! What nonsense.” Jaim leaned in close to Kaelin, sniffing loudly.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m picking up traces of Varlish bullshit on you, boy.”

Kaelin burst out laughing. “That coming from the man who last had a bath when the world was young. By heavens, Grymauch, your armpits could fell an ox.”

Banny lay back on the grass and listened to their argument with great pleasure, feeling himself a part of their easy camaraderie. After a while Jaim fetched a canvas sack and from it drew a bottle of golden Uisge. He took several deep swallows and offered it to Kaelin, who shook his head.

“Good for you, lad. Cleans the blood.”

“I’ve no wish to get maudlin,” Kaelin told him. “In a
few minutes you’ll be talking about the old days when men were men.”

“Ah, true enough,” admitted Grymauch. “So tell us about this walk to the feast with the beautiful Varlish maiden.”

“Why do you keep saying Varlish?” snapped Kaelin.

“Because that’s what she is, Kaelin. Are you in love with her?”

“I don’t know. I like her company, and … she is very beautiful.”

Grymauch took another drink. “Have you kissed her? Be honest now.”

“A man shouldn’t talk about such things,” said Kaelin, embarrassed.

“Aye, maybe he shouldn’t. So let me say this: If you
have
kissed her and you still don’t know whether you’re in love, then maybe you aren’t. Beautiful women are a wondrous temptation, Ravenheart. But by all accounts Chara is a good lass. So you listen to your uncle Jaim. Don’t bed her until you are sure that you want to walk the tree with her.”

“I don’t want to talk about this,” said Kaelin. “It is not seemly.”

“If you must sow your seed,” continued Grymauch, ignoring his protestations, “and I fear a man must, then there are plenty available who will not have their hearts broken by it. I myself visit the Earth Maiden at the old mill house.”

“Parsha Willets?” said Kaelin, pulling a face. “She must be close to forty.”

“She’s a good girl and bighearted,” said Jaim.

Kaelin laughed aloud. “By bighearted you mean she extends credit?”

“I do,” said Jaim.

“You are a disgraceful man, Grymauch,” Kaelin put in, chuckling. “It is no surprise that decent people avoid your company.”

“Will you be attending the feast, Grymauch?” asked Banny, more to practice the use of Jaim’s name than anything else.

“Perhaps, lad. I’m still considering it.”

“You won the fistfighting two years ago. There’s another tournament this year, they say.”

“Not for me, Banny. The Varlish will gather around the circle and bay and cheer as clansmen whack and thud at each other. I’ve no mind to add to their entertainment.”

“The tournament is open this year,” said Kaelin. “There’s thirty chaillings to be won. I’ve heard that there will be Varlish looking to win it.”

“Is that so?” replied Jaim, taking another deep swallow.

“According to Captain Galliott, two fighters are coming up from the south. Big men. Varlish champions. I expect they’ll be looking to show that clansmen are easy meat.”

Jaim chuckled. “You are trying to goad me, boy. I’m not so drunk that I cannot see it.”

“I am not trying to goad you,” Kaelin told him with a wink to Banny. “You are getting too old to fight, Grymauch. You’ve said it yourself. I think you should let the tournament pass.”

“Too old, am I? You rascal! It may be that I will show these southern Varlish the error of their thinking.”

“Thirty chaillings is a great sum,” put in Banny.

“There’ll be more to be made on the side betting,” said Jaim. “I’d say the winner of the tourney would clear maybe four … five pounds.”

“How much is that in chaillings?” asked Banny, who had never seen a pound.

“Tell him, Kaelin.”

“Twenty chaillings to a pound … one hundred chaillings.”

“That is a fortune,” whispered Banny. He closed his eyes. There were twelve daens to a chailling. He knew that much. The sum was the equivalent of twelve hundred daens. Enough to feed Banny and his mother for … for … He tried to calculate the sum, but it was too large. Shula had managed to scrape together enough food for them on three daens a week. Ten weeks, then, would be thirty daens.

Concentrating hard, Banny carefully built the sums in his
mind. A year would cost 150 daens; ten years, 1,500. The difference was three hundred, or two years.

According to Banny’s calculation, the winner of the tourney would have enough money to feed himself and his mother for eight years!

“Could you teach me to fight, Grymauch?” he asked, sitting up.

“I could teach any clansman to fight. It’s in the blood.”

“I’m not a clansman,” Banny told him. “My mother is Varlish.”

Jaim put down his bottle. Removing his black headband, he scratched at the empty socket. He turned his one-eyed gaze on Banny. “This Rigante eye is magical,” he said. “It sees into the hearts of men. And when I look at you, young Banny, I see a clansman. And that’s an end to it.”

Banny felt as if his heart would burst. His throat tightened, and he could not speak. He glanced away so that the others would not see the tears in his eyes.

“Let’s be getting back,” said Kaelin. “Shula has made a fruit pie.”

“It’s a good one,” said Jaim. “I had a little taste before coming to meet you boys.”

The apothecary Ramus drew rein on his small, fat-bellied pony and carefully dismounted at the gates of the Moidart’s Winter House. A soldier expertly searched him, then opened the gate. Ramus did not remount. A small man with an arthritic hip, Ramus needed a mounting step or a box in order to climb to the saddle. Slowly he walked toward the house, leading the pony.