“We only expect to haul in the big bastards,” Judocus said.
In a day and a half the net lay stretched out across the lawn. The net makers ran the final piece of webbing, a thick braided line, through holes drilled through cylindrical pieces of lead.
Kermode stood alone by the shore. Idellsa walked up. She touched his shoulder and said, “The net is ready.”
Kermode turned, reaching out to hold Idellsa’s elbow. “The sea seems ready,” Kermode motioned beyond the surf rolling up to the sand to the light chop moving across the water. “For now,” he added when he looked at a bank of gathering clouds rushing overhead. Kermode knew the ocean could turn from friend to enemy in a matter of minutes.
Idellsa stepped to the side as the five fisherman carried the bundled net to the shore. Kermode turned to face them as they walked up. They stood before Kermode, waiting to hear what the next step would be.
Kermode took a deep breath, looking each man squarely in the eye. He exhaled slowly then said, “We are going to set the net like this: all five boats will tie lines from the boats to the outer web.” Kermode drew a circle in the sand with his staff. He stabbed equally spaced holes around the perimeter of the circle with the tip. “From these points ...” Kermode waved the staff in a tight circle. He continued, “The boats will haul the net out to sea, keeping it stretched out and as flat as possible. When we are in place we’ll lower the net.”
“It sounds simple enough,” one of the fisherman scoffed, glancing at the crude drawing and the bundled net.
Kermode didn’t answer. He thought about what the man said. He would need a way to see how the net reacted to being hauled and he needed a way to speak with the leaders of the boats. An idea came to Kermode: swimmers could pull themselves up and down the tow lines. From their vantage points the swimmers could guide the fishermen, keeping the boats running straight and true. Kermode could be in a small boat. From here he could move around the net and monitor the progress.
The sun had climbed from just over the horizon to directly overhead by the time the net was in place. Kermode rowed around the outer edge. He gave the order to call the swimmers back to the boats. The swimmers wrapped themselves up in thick wool blankets after they climbed aboard.
The fishermen lowered the lines tethering the net. It sank slowly then stopped. The lines was hauled in slightly and tied off. In his mind’s eye Kermode saw a network of braided line hovering over the green grassy bottom.
It was time to bait the net. Kermode rowed out to the center. He unscrewed the cap of the lantern. He set the amulet inside and lowered it over the side. Kermode tied the line off at the stern as the bait drifted. He rowed back to the center.
The first big fish came into the edge of the net moments later. Kermode saw the silvery flashes circling around the center. More fish poured in from all sides.
When the dark green bottom was obscured by the silver backs and white bellies of fish; Kermode hauled in the lamp. At that moment the leaders of the fishing boats hauled in the lines tied to the big net. Once the lamp was out of the water the fish made a break for the edges of the net. Many escaped over the top as it broke the surface. Oarsman rowed hard, forcing the net into a fish filled cone.
The water boiled from the thrashing of big tails. Three boats, lashed together, hauled the net back to shore. The remaining two boats held taut lines on the net to keep it from dragging along the bottom.
■ ■ ■ ■
Kermode organized fishing trips at least two times during every stage of the moon. The net required constant maintenance. The fishermen inspected it every day. Rotted webbing was tied and spliced into the webbing.
Time passed. Enough fish was caught. The village had more fish than they could eat. Much of it was dried and salted, then stored in barrels. There was more than enough to feed every man, woman, and child through the harsh winter months. The surplus was traded to neighboring villages.
Kermode had been busy organizing the fishing while Idellsa watched over the net. In the dead of winter the net was put into storage. It was at this time Kermode began to think about the crops growing on the farms inland. He knew that soil would lose its fertility over the passing of the seasons. Placing decaying matter in the soil could enrich it. What Kermode needed was a way to enrich the soil using something readily available and in abundance.
The fisherman stood behind him. Kermode had taken Brisius’ words and put them into practice. If he could get the farmers to fall in line he’d have people controlling the food source for the tribe supporting him when and if Bruises named Kermode as his successor.
Kermode fell asleep that night with his hand clutching the dragon amulet. As he drifted off he hoped the answer to his question would come in a dream fueled by the mysterious stone.
Six
The Roman Visitor
KERMODE WOKE EARLY the next morning. He got off the braided straw mat quietly, taking care not to disturb Idellsa. A woman in her condition needed all the rest she could get. With a wicker basket in hand, Kermode closed the door to the roundhouse.
It was just getting light when Kermode stepped off the path and walked into the forest. He stopped at a clearing. On the opposite side of the clearing sunlight lit up a small tree. A cluster of limbs branched out of a narrow trunk. White flowers and red berries crowded limbs laden with round edged leaves.
Kermode walked up to the tree. He picked the red berries. When the basket was full he walked back to the roundhouse.
“Gods to you this morning, Kermode,” Idellsa yawned, “”What do you have in the basket?”
“Fruit of the quicken tree,” Kermode answered.
“That’s not breakfast is it?” Idellsa’s stomach growled.
“No,” Kermode laughed. “We still have some eggs and spinach. We could eat that now.”
Kermode broke four eggs in a bowl. He stirred the eggs then poured the mixture over a hot pan. He flipped the eggs and placed a heaping handful of spinach on the topside of the eggs. While the bottom side cooked Kermode pressed the spinach leaves onto the hot eggs.
After breakfast, Kermode and Idellsa ate bread and honey and sipped herbal tea. When they finished Idellsa eyed the basket of berries. “Are you still hungry?” Kermode asked.
“Hmm …” Idellsa rolled her eyes.
“We can walk down to the village. I have something I need from the fishermen. We can find something to eat when we get there.”
“Very well,” Idellsa answered.
Kermode and Idellsa cleaned up the kitchen. They walked down the hill to the village. Kermode walked up to a table.
“Gods,” a man behind the table smiled and nodded.
“Back to you,” Kermode said. “How is the fishing today?”
“We have a good mackerel that’s just been put in the tub.” The fisherman motioned to a big mackerel thrashing in a wooden trough. A line ran through the fishes gills and was tied to a stake in the grass. “You can’t get any fresher than that. Do you want to buy or trade?”
“I’ll pay.”
“That fish is worth three pieces of copper.”
It was early in the day. Fresh fish were rare this morning. No fishing trips using Kermode’s method’s had been planned. Kermode knew the fisherman would hold out, dropping the price based on the amount of time the fish spent in the trough. Kermode set three copper coins on the table. “I’ll take it.” Specie earned from fishing trips gave Kermode the purchasing power to pay the price the fisherman wanted.
The fisherman reached into the trough, grabbing the tail of the fish. He set the head and snapping jaws on the side of the trough. He raised a wooden club.
“Wait,” Kermode said.
“You want him still swimming in the pot when you cook him, eh?”
“Maybe,” Kermode smiled. He walked over and removed the steak from the ground. Grabbing the line close to the fish’s mouth, Kermode slung it over his shoulder.
“Even as hungry as I am I don’t think we’ll be able to
eat all that in one day,” Idellsa said, her eyes wide.
“It’s not all for us,” Kermode shook his head. “I was going to ask Elgin the farmer if he and his wife would care to share it with us.”
“Elgin controls more land and crops than all the other farmers put together,” Idellsa gave Kermode a puzzled look. “Why would you want to feed a man who is never hungry?” she shrugged.
“There is something I’m not telling you, Idellsa,” Kermode answered.
“I expected that.”
“I’m going to make a potion that will enrich the soil, bring new life to plants.”
“I see, and you want Elgin’s support in the tribe.”
“Yes, he carries the most power in the farmlands.”
■ ■ ■ ■
Kermode tossed the mackerel on the table in the yard. He used the stiff blade of a short knife to scrape the fine scales off the fish’s skin. These he placed in a wooden bowl. He gutted the fish next, carefully picking through the intestines until finding the swim bladder lodged up against the backbone. He used a sharp curved knife to cut the bladder away. He set the bladder in the bowl of scales.
Kermode finished cleaning the fish.
Kermode and Idellsa walked to Elgin’s roundhouse on the edge of the village. Kermode stepped up and knocked on the door. Footsteps could be heard then stopped as the door swung open.
“Gods to you this afternoon,” a man said. “Kermode and Idellsa, I haven’t seen you two since the wedding.”
“We’ve both been working hard with the fishermen,” Kermode said.
“I’ve been hearing of your good fortune.”
“Idellsa and I want to share a meal with you and …” Kermode trailed off. He didn’t know Elgin’s wife’s name. He wasn’t even sure if Elgin had a wife.
“That would be Breda.”
A woman with long dark hair stepped outside and stood next to Elgin. Her belly was swollen with child.
“How far along are you?” Idellsa asked.
“Three moons since my last flow,” Breda answered.
“The same with me.” Idellsa patted her belly.
Later that evening, after a meal of smoked fish and a pile of roasted root vegetables, Kermode and Elgin sat on the porch. Elgin drank ale from a tankard while Kermode sipped herbal tea.
One more tankard of strong ale seem to put Elgin at ease.
“I’m going to get to the heart of the matter. Why I asked you out here tonight,” Kermode said.
“Let’s get to it then.” Elgin drained the tankard then wiped foam from his beard.
“I want your support in a plan I have?”
“I’m listening.” Elgin set the tankard on the bench.
“I want to use a potion on your crops—” Kermode trailed off. “Not the crops,” he corrected himself, “the soil the crops are grown in.”
■ ■ ■ ■
Kermode crushed the red berries of the quicken tree into a thick paste. He added the fine scales of the mackerel and continued crushing the mixture. He rinsed the swim bladder then diced it into fine pieces. One last crush of all the ingredients and Kermode watched the sticky maroon paste drip slowly off the bulb of the pistil. He put the mixture in a flask then left the roundhouse. Kermode made his way to Elgin’s farm.
One of Elgin’s workers greeted Kermode, “Are you the druid?” the man asked.
“My name is Kermode,” Kermode nodded. They clasped each other’s wrists.
“My name is Kane.”
“Where is Elgin?” Kermode asked. He looked around.
“Humph,” Kane grunted. “Master Elgin doesn’t wake with the sun. He has people to do it for him.”
“I see,” Kermode nodded. “Did Elgin tell you why I was coming this morning?”
“No, his only words where to expect a visit from a druid.”
“Very well.” Kermode set the pouch he carried on a table. “I should get to work.”
“Master Elgin said I’m to help in any way.”
Kermode nodded then asked, “What is the most used crop?”
“That would be wheat.”
“Take me to the nearest plants.”
Kane led Kermode across the lawn and down the hillside to a field. Kane turned to Kermode. Golden stalks of wheat stretched across the field. “Do you want early growth or late growth?”
Kermode thought about this question. Perhaps it would be better to try the potion on new plants rather than mature plants? Or would it be better to use the entire potion on one type of plant? Kermode decided to use the potion on a plant in the latter stages of growth. He would see the results in less time.
Kermode knelt down. He dug in the soil with a spade then poured some of the mixture at the base of a plant. After working the paste into the soil Kermode covered the hole. He did the same thing until the mixture was gone.
“I wasn’t much help,” Kane said as Kermode finished.
“One man job,” Kermode grinned. “There is something you can do, Kane.”
“Yes.”
“Ty a marker to the plants I added the potion to.”
Kermode watched Kane wrap pieces of dyed wool around the base of the wheat plants.
Kermode returned the next day. Kane met him. Together they walked out to the field.
“I don’t see any difference,” Kermode remarked.
“I can tell you’re not a farmer,” Kane laughed. “Growing things is mostly waiting and watching.”
“I was hoping for a big change,” Kermode said.
Kane held a leaf of one of the marked plants between his fingers. “Hmm,” he sighed then moved to another plant. He looked at the third marked plant. “This may not be a big change, but ...” Kane trailed off as he walked over.
“What is it?” Kermode asked.
“All of the marked plants show no sign of leaf rust this morning.”
“And yesterday they did?”
“Some,” Kane replied.
Kane checked the remaining marked plants. Each plant bore leaves that were free of any fine molds.
Over the next days the marked plants continued to thrive. Insects stayed away. New growth healed old scars on leaves.
One morning Kane said to Kermode, “Master Elgin wants you to treat a big portion of the crops. He’s happy with how well the plants are doing.”
Kermode was glad to hear that. He hadn’t spoken to Elgin since they’d made the deal. He had no way of knowing how Elgin felt about it. “It will take some time to round up all the materials,” Kermode said. He added, “To make the potion,” seeing the confusion on Kane’s face.
“Very well, return when you have enough.”
Kermode spent the next two days collecting scales and swim bladders from a fishing trip. On the third day he built a ladder and carried it to the forest. Kermode picked a quicken tree clean of berries.
On the night of the third day Kermode prepared a mixture. The next morning Kermode loaded a large urn with the dark paste. He strapped a piece of leather to the handle of the urn then slung it over his shoulder.
Kane dug up trenches at the base of the wheat plants. Kermode came behind him and placed the potion in the trenches. Kane came behind Kermode and replaced the soil.
The day after Kermode and Kane treated the plants leaves became fuller, mold faded, and insects disappeared.
Elgin came out of the roundhouse. Two men accompanied him. Elgin spoke to one of the men as they approached the field. The man spoke to the other man in a tongue Kermode immediately recognized as Latin, the language of the Romans. Judging by the cut of the clothes the Latin speaking man wore and the gold rings on his fingers he was wealthy.
After an exchange of words between Elgin, the interpreter, and the Roman, the visitors left the field. A carriage pulled away and rode down the path south.
“When the Roman returns and sees the crop I’ll be able to make a deal for the whole field,” Elgin nodded.
“To the Romans?” Kermode asked. “I saw the end resu
lts going to the people of the tribe,” he said.
“The people of the tribe can’t pay a fraction of what the Romans will pay for a good harvest of wheat.” Elgin shook his head. “I might as well give it away.”
“There must be a way to ensure that the people of the tribe benefit from this harvest, Elgin,” Kermode said.
“Sure, the able bodied can work on the farm during the harvest.”
“For next to nothing,” Kermode muttered.
“Was I not meant to hear that, druid,” Elgin asked. “If that is so, then it didn’t work.”
“Perhaps I misjudged you.” Kermode looked at the ground.
“Perhaps ...” Elgin shrugged. “I didn’t misjudge you, Kermode. I know you have a reason behind everything you say you’re doing for the tribe. My motive may be greed. Your motive is power.” Elgin looked Kermode squarely in the eye and asked, “Am I right?”
“If my quest for power helps the tribe it is a good thing,” Kermode replied.
Seven
Changing Tides
THE MONTHS PASSED. Harvest time rolled around. Elgin had the best wheat crop he’d ever grown. Many of the local farmers said it was the best crop they’d ever seen.
Kermode had convinced Elgin to only sell two thirds of the crop to the Romans. He promised to find more ways to enrich the soil if Elgin agreed. Grain stores in the village were loaded to capacity. Every man, woman, and child in the tribe had enough wheat for the winter.
Kermode was returning from the field one day. Idellsa was standing at the work table. An intricate torc, made of spiraling and intertwining birds, lay on the table.
“I think it’s time,” she said to Kermode as he stood in the doorway, scraping dirt off his sandals.
“Are you sure?” Over the past days there’d been some bouts with heavy labor pains that proved false.
“I’ve shed my water. That is a sure sign.”
Kermode remembered what the midwife had told them. He covered the straw mat with fresh linens then put Idellsa to bed. As she laid back her face twisted in pain. “Ugh,” she said. “That hurt.”
Kermode reached out and held Idellsa’s hand.
“Do you remember the midwife’s words, Kermode?” Idellsa asked. A bead of sweat formed on her forehead.
Origin of Druid (Druid's Path Book 1) Page 4
