Waves in the Wind (16 page)

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Authors: Wade McMahan

Tags: #Historical Fiction

BOOK: Waves in the Wind
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I did as he asked and he rose to his feet, leaning heavily on the shaft. The linen cloth bound around his leg was a bright white, a sign the leg was healing.

“The people call you Druids the Wise Ones. Now I understand why that is so. Would that you might see God’s True Light and use your knowledge on the side of Christ.”

It was little I cared about his judgement of me, good or bad, though again hope surged through me. “You will do it then? You will carry my message to the bishop?”

“Yes, you are right. This horror must end. Upon my solemn word to the Lord God Himself I shall travel to Tara and urge the Reverend Bishop to agree to your truce.” He sighed, and shook his head. “And in God’s name I thank you for it.”

* * *

Thoughts of peace crowded my mind while I strolled back to my pavilion. Laoidheach idled nearby, strumming his lyre. He looked up as I drew near.

Sunlight warmed my shoulders. Though it would be foolish to hope too much that Joseph would succeed with the bishop, relief was flooding through me and I smiled as my face turned to the blue, cloudless sky.

A twang from Laoidheach’s lyre was followed by his question. “What did the priest say?”

I walked close and slapped him on the back. “Pack your things old friend and see to our horses. Let’s go home.”

Chapter 12

Tomorrow Comes Today

Shadows accompanied our line of march as we rounded the final bend in the trail to see Rath Raithleann on the hillcrest before us. Laoidheach rode at my side, and behind us all thirty-five of the warriors who left the village with us were returning home—yet another blessing by the Lordly Ones.

Black smoke smudged the sky above our village, more than expected from the daily cooking fires of the women, and I wondered at the reason for it. I felt a tinge of concern but the gods had always smiled upon Rath Raithleann.

The warm sun of the spring afternoon touched emerald fields that stretched into the distance. Nearer the village herds of cattle, horses and sheep grazed within paddocks enclosed by low, stone fences with sturdy wooden gates. Beyond the village the stately trees within the sacred grove were again turning green, and I smiled at the sight. The splendor of it all was a forgotten scene, its serenity filling my throat after nine months of darkness, including the past three months of constant fighting.

Thatched roofs showed above the ancient protective earthen wall encircling the village though nothing could be seen of the people or events inside. My warriors were muttering behind me, wondering at the absence of the many folk who should be seen going about their daily work. I motioned to pick up the pace, the dust of the trail rising around us. The daily grit of it in my teeth was now a natural thing, no more noticeable than breathing. Finally, the large wooden gates leading into the village stood wide open before us. Beyond the gates all were there, the laughing, cheering, clapping people of Rath Raithleann.

Joyous faces turned up to us, eager hands reached out to touch us, exulting voices called out our names as we progressed through the throng toward the village center. There we discovered a low wooden platform, its background draped with green, yellow and red pennons, the tribal colors of the Eoghanachts. King Domnhall was there. Resplendent in a brilliant blue linen robe edged with fox fur, he sat upon a high-backed wooden chair, a welcoming smile on his age-lined face. Beside him stood my father in the Druid’s traditional black-striped robe.

I turned and waved my warriors forward, motioning for them to mass behind me. Then Laoidheach and I dismounted, knelt in the dust and bowed before the King.

The tempting aroma of roasting meat wafted past my nose as my father stepped forward and began to invoke a prayer of thanks to the Lordly Ones for our safe return. Prompted by the enticing smell, my unruly stomach rumbled and Laoidheach quietly snickered as he knelt beside me.

Word of our victories had spread across the land and reached the ears of King Domnhall, who now stood to address us. “Today Rath Raithleann welcomes her sons to their home. You have honored us by your courage and many victories over the Christians, so we gather here to honor you. A great feast has been prepared in celebration of your safe return.”

His eyes swept the crowd and then he nodded toward my father. “The Wise One thanked the Lords of the Sidhe for returning you to us and I add this, for I know it to be true. Your many triumphs were a blessing from the gods’ themselves and for that we shall be forever grateful to them.”

Silence gripped the villagers crowding near to hear their King’s words. Distant cries and laughter broke the stillness from children frisking within a world ruled by kings and gods of their own making. It was an idyllic scene as the king stood upon the dais, framed by a blue sky. In that moment the horrors of the past few months fled from my mind, replaced by hopes for a grand, tranquil future for the people of Rath Raithleann and all Eire.

“It is altogether fitting,” King Domnhall continued, “for a king to bestow favors upon those who bring honor to his realm. Therefore, Ossian, rise and stand before me.”

I did as he bade, wondering at his intentions. Though he stood upon the platform our eyes met on a level.

“Despite your youth it was you who led our men and others who joined you in defeating Christian forces. No man could have done better and it speaks well of the man you have become. Now let it be known that you will join your father as a Wise One in my royal court. In keeping with your position, you are hereby awarded two parcels of land and an annual stipend of twenty-four pieces of silver. Furthermore, you shall be permitted to erect a home at a location suitable to you near your father’s. May the gods continue to bless you.”

I bowed and mumbled, “And you my King. I am most sincerely humbled by your kind generosity.”

The King turned to Laoidheach and motioned for him to rise. “Laoidheach, though you are new to my kingdom it is proud I am to have you among us. Word reached us that, though you were grievously wounded in battle, you remained at your post and by your valor a great victory was won.”

My eyes beheld my friend and I snorted quietly. It seemed he should at least have the decency to blush at the King’s exaggeration.

“Now,” the King continued, “let everyone know that, henceforth, Laoidheach shall be known as bard of Domnhall’s court. In keeping with his position, he is hereby granted one parcel of land and an annual stipend of twelve silver coins. Furthermore, he may choose a proper location on the west side of the village to erect a home.”

The King’s generosity toward my friend was gratifying, though surprising. I smelled my father’s hand in it. Given the right to build a home on the west side of the village was no small favor as it was a preferred location. Prevailing winds would keep away much of the smoke and latrine odors emanating from the village.

Each warrior who accompanied me received three silver coins as a token of the King’s appreciation for their service. When the coins were added to the booty they looted from Christian villages the men and their families would fare well, indeed.

A stray wind gust again pushed smoke from the cooking fires past my nose, and my mouth watered in anticipation of the feast to come. The King was kind, generous and, perhaps best of all, a man of few words. After his brief closing comments we were dismissed and I hurried toward long tables piled with roasted meat, breads and savory dishes.

* * *

People crowded about enjoying the festive atmosphere. I sat alongside my warriors at a long table laden with food while laughter and delectable aromas filled the air.

A side of pork ribs lay upon the polished oak trencher before me, roasted to perfection by knowing hands. A hint of charring surrounded its edges, smoke-enhanced juices oozing to the surface. It was while I was tearing the first rib away from the slab that I heard, “Ossian.” It was Laoidheach. “Have you seen Aine?”

A stab of guilt passed through me when I realized that my thoughtless absorption with food prevailed over higher obligations to my family. Reluctantly I laid the rib on the trencher. “No. I am sure she is here somewhere. Keep looking, you will find her.”

“I’ve already looked everywhere, asked many others about her, but no one seems to know where she is.”

“Did you ask my father?”

His face reddened. “No, he… That is, well, he is sitting there,” he pointed, “engaged in a quiet discussion with a lady. I sensed he would not appreciate my intrusion.”

A lady? My gaze followed Laoidheach’s pointing finger but I could not see my father through groups of people seated around tables and milling about. Unbidden, my foolish, unruly hand snatched the rib from the trencher and shoved the succulent thing into my mouth.

A wee, chattering bundle of swirling black linen emerged from the crowd, hurtling directly toward Laoidheach. Grease dribbled down my chin and I wiped it away with the back of my hand, a grin on my face. My mother’s eldest sister, Luiseach, who we lovingly called Aunt Lou, bustled forward to confront Laoidheach, her wagging finger pointing upwards directly towards his nose.

“And who gave you leave to be mentioning my niece’s name in front of all these big ears and wagging tongues?” A shawl wrapped Aunt Lou’s head, her thin, lined face protruding forward. Tiny as she was, she was like a sparrow harassing a Hugh’s hawk as her finger continued to wag beneath his nose. “My niece is a good girl, she is, and I’ll not have you bandying her name about among these,” she paused and gestured toward the table where I sat among my warriors, “these ruffians.”

Laoidheach, his eyes wide, stammered, “Madame, I…I assure you—”

“Madame? Paugh! And don’t you be denying it, boy ’o; a dozen people reported to me that you’ve been asking after her.” She took a step closer. Fisted hands on hips, her neck craned as she glared upwards. “And what manner of gentleman would be mentioning a maid’s name in such company as this, I ask you? Not much of one, I’d be saying.”

Alarm filled his eyes as he peered down his nose at his tiny antagonist. “I assure you, I was merely concerned, as she—”

“Concerned? Concerned indeed.” She took another step forward, her finger wagging again. “Who would you be to have concern for my niece? Have you spoken to her father of your concern?”

“Well…no, but—”

“Aha! I suspected as much.” He took a quick step back as she advanced, her finger upward pointing like a deadly lance. “You’ve no right to be speaking of her at all without there being an understanding between you, which there is not.”

He tried to explain as again he retreated when she took another step forward. “I thought there was an understanding, you see—”

Finger still wagging she charged forward and he continued to fall back. “Maybe in the heathen land you come from men speak openly of maids without their fathers’ approval. You will find that is not the case in Rath Raithleann. Here, all the proprieties must be observed.”

A ridiculous log that he failed to see blocked Laoidheach’s line of retreat as he backed away from his tiny tormentor. Inevitably, his heels made contact with the log and backwards he flopped onto the ground with an, “Oomph.” He lay stunned, his long legs looping across the log.

Victory gleamed in Aunt Lou’s eyes as she cackled over him. “It’s said you are the King’s new bard.” With a snort, she added, “Are you his bard then, or his new court fool?”

Puffed with triumph, she turned to walk away but for the first time noticed me sitting at the table. She scurried over and patted my grease-streaked face. “Oh Ossian, it’s glad I am to see you safely home. You must be sure to come by and visit. I’m certain your sister will be happy to see you, too.”

“Aine is living with you?”

“That she is. She came to live with me after we heard you were returning home.” Aunt Lou gestured to Laoidheach, who now rested upon his elbows. “Aine couldn’t remain living under the same roof with that barbarian friend of yours. And the two of them having no understanding with your father. It would be unseemly, don’t you see? Just think of the scandal of it.”

* * *

Beside my father stood the widow Riona, a lovely, soft, blond-haired woman I guessed at ten years younger than his age of forty-five. Had his red beard been streaked with gray before I rode away to face the Christians? I could not recall, though sad I was to notice it.

A gentle smile accompanied her curtsy upon being introduced to us by my father. Laoidheach and I bowed, he with a gallant hand flourish. I liked her immediately and saw why my father would be interested in her, which I suspected was the case. Many years had gone by since my mother passed away and I thought it a fine thing that my father might find comfort in this woman.

“It is proud of you both I am,” my father began, “and I welcome you home. I congratulate you on your positions within the King’s court.”

“Thank you, father. The King’s generosity was unexpected, yet grateful we are for it.”

“Aye, but I hope you know this grand feast he ordered in your honor might be his greatest gift of all. It was a risk to serve so much food when our granaries run low. Famine stalks the land. There is much unrest as people of other tribes starve. No doubt they will continue to do so until the next harvest which I pray with the gods’ blessings will prove bountiful.”

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