“Why would anyone bother to send word about someone like you?”
“I’ve got a reward on my head, big enough to tempt anyone. A message to the right place would bring my enemies after me, fast enough.” The lie had become easier to me now. The girl wasn’t difficult to deceive, but I did not like the expression in the man’s eyes.
“One might say a king’s ransom, in fact?” he said, smoothly.
I laughed, but my laughter sounded false, even to me. “Hardly so much, but the man I killed was an only son and much loved. Honour price alone would not pay for his death. My kin are poor and we do not possess even half the sum demanded. My brother told me to stay lost, until things change over there and I can return.”
“So Edan, a worker in metals, vanishes?”
Again, I spoke without thought. “Edan is only one of my names.” Some evil spirit must have possessed me, because I can’t imagine why I said such a stupid thing. Release from my ordeal and my pain might have been one excuse, for I felt comfortable lying by the fire. Perhaps something about this pair was very potent or I just did not think. I was acting as if we were all friends who had no need to guard their tongues. My suspicions had been lulled and I blurted out something I have never told a stranger before. I froze when I realised what I had done.
“It is the one your mother called you, I suspect,” McLir said, and I nodded. Edan had indeed, been my baby name, although none but Modir ever uses it now. “What is your real name?”
I took a deep breath, for if I answered this truthfully, I could never go back to one lie at least. I did not think it mattered. The man already knew my secret, though, I fervently hoped, not all of it. “Kari,” I told them.
“And your father?”
“Ragnar. I am Kari Ragnarsson, but, as you guessed, my mother called me Edan when I was a child.” I smiled as the image of Modir’s face flashed into my mind.
“A fine Norse name, for a man who passes himself off as a Celt.”
“Not a complete lie. I am half a Celt. My mother, Aine, is Celtic.”
“So you were right again, Máistir!” The girl burst out. “You said he was one of those who grew up between peoples, speaking both languages.”
“You favour your mother’s race,” McLir said, gravely.
I nodded. “My brothers tease me, because I am not tall and fair like them. They call me the runt of the litter.”
“A useful trait, however, for one who travels through Celtic lands, no matter what the reason.”
I looked at him hard at that, but his expression remained bland, so I only said, “Indeed.”
“As is knowledge of the Celtic language.”
“Unless I forget myself, as I did with you once before.” I grinned. “You tempted me, didn’t you? Not many Celts can quote from the sagas.”
“No, although they’re worth a wise man’s study. Their words ring with the true sounds of battle. An interesting language, yours. Even swear words sound so much better in Norse,” the magician said and we both laughed. “Knowledge of the northern speech, however, is dangerous here. Norsemen are more often our enemies than our friends.”
“I know, and now I have made you a present of my true name and heritage. Also the fact I have a price on my head. Will you betray me to the king’s men or to my enemies?”
“Is there any reason why I should?”
“Not to my knowledge,” I said, but his smile was cynical. I felt certain he did not believe everything I had told him. I must get away from him eventually, but I was in no position to do so yet or for some time to come. I must put myself into the hands of this man and the gods. They would decide my fate between them.
The hours had been passing, while we talked, and my eyes started closing, for I was very weary. Soon afterwards, sleep claimed me and I did not stir until morning. When I awoke, McLir and the girl still slept peacefully by my side. The dog snored gently, where he lay across the entrance of the cave.
23
Renny’s Story
I wanted to speak to McLir about Edan’s revelations. We could not go outside, for the rain showed no sign of letting up and we had no opportunity that night. Next morning, the storm had blown itself out and the world was veiled in a chill grey mist. I went out to the stream to fetch water. I was about to return, when Shea came bounding down the slope to me, so I stopped and waited. Wherever Shea is, McLir is never far behind. Sure enough, he walked out, rubbing the sleep from his eyes and stretching. He smiled at me and I waved urgently to him. So he joined me.
“Well?” he asked.
“Edan?”
“Much as I expected. Did I not say he was a Viking’s son?”
“Viking or Norseman?”
“For our purposes, they are the same.”
I shot a quick glance towards the cave mouth.
“We are too far away for him to hear us. With the state of his ankle he cannot come closer. What do you want to say to me?”
“Last night - I did not think you believed him.”
“He told us part of the truth and I wonder why he told us. Other parts, I’m sure, are lies – or I’m no judge of men.”
“What did he lie about?”
“Why he came here for one thing. Why he didn’t stay to face the king’s men is another. An innocent man doesn’t run. He stands and speaks openly to those in authority. Edan has run away twice, remember, if the tales are to be believed. He left your village, without a proper leave-taking, sneaking off like a thief in the night. A man was seen near here running down the mountain, the day before yesterday. The man vanished and you found Edan nearby, injured and disguised.”
“Even an innocent man can be afraid.”
“True, but in my opinion, not much scares this young man. He wouldn’t run or change his appearance without having a very good reason.”
“And the reason is?”
“A number of things are possible.”
“You don’t believe in the tale of a rich reward being offered for him?”
“No. He’s too humble a man to be so important. If those who seek him were as powerful as he says, he’d have been found already. He’d be delivered up to them long since and not allowed to escape overseas.”
“So you think..?”
“I believe, as I said before, he’s on the island for a reason and not the one he gave us. Look at the possibilities yourself. Here’s a man who now acknowledges himself the son of a Norseman. He grew up amongst that people. Why should a Norseman, who happens to look like a Celt, come here?”
“For work?”
“I think that tale is as false as the other. He had no need to leave his home to find work. There’s more than sufficient for him where he comes from.”
“You think he’s a spy.”
“He might be. Sending someone to spy before a raid has been done before by these people. They’re always well prepared, that’s why they’re often so successful. This is one of the more likely explanations for such a man to be here.”
“If you’re correct, we’re all in danger.” I shivered. “What should we do next?”
“Nothing for the moment, except to stay close to him. He can’t escape until his ankle heals, and that’ll take some days. We’ll remain here with him for now and find out anything we can. He’s made one slip already; he might make others. Traa di looar. Time enough to do anything else, when he can move freely again. Then we’ll watch him like a hawk does a sparrow, waiting for his next move.”
In the following days, I came to know more about Edan - and I liked him, despite our suspicions. At first he seemed to be in a great deal of pain, although he did not complain. He had stressed his ankle badly and had stripped the skin off his hands and knees. We bathed his injuries with our salves and gave him the syrup made from poppies to ease him. He needed to rest and let his body heal. He responded well, for he had a wiry strength, although he is so slim.
A couple of days later, when our stocks of medicines had run low, McLir left me to fetch mor
e. He also had to tend to the people who, by now, would be waiting for him. So he returned to the sea cave and then to Stoill’s, while I remained alone with Edan.
“You should have no trouble,” McLir told me privately. “He still can’t take his weight upon his ankle. Also he’s not the type of man to offer you an insult.”
“I’m not afraid of him.”
He smiled. “Nor am I. Expect me back before nightfall.” He went off down the mountain, leaving us there watching him.
The day was pleasant and sunny, although a tang of autumn hung in the air. We sat together, with our backs against the cliff, watching the seagulls wheel across the clear blue sky.
“Do you ever wish you were a bird?” Edan asked me, idly.
“To be able to soar through the air and go where you want, with no one to stop you?”
“Yes. I wonder if men will ever be able to fly.”
“Surely not. How could they?”
“I don’t know. Maybe one day they’ll find the way.”
“If God wanted us to fly, He’d have given us wings,” I quoted wistfully.
“You don’t really believe that, do you? We already do many things the gods never intended us to do.”
“Which gods? The gods of your people or my God?” I challenged him.
“All of them,” he said lazily, refusing to argue with me. “The sun’s too hot to argue about gods, yours or mine.”
I agreed with him and let the subject drop. We were warm and comfortable sitting there, sheltered from the breeze and looking out over the shining sea. He lay back, closing his eyes, so I thought he had dozed off, until he spoke to me.
“Are you going to stay with McLir?”
“Yes if he wants me to,” I replied, startled by his question.
“What would you do if something happened to him?”
“I don’t know. Why should anything happen to him?”
“He could have an accident or fall sick and die.”
I suddenly felt chilled. I had never let myself think about what I would do if McLir left me. He had always said he must, some day, but I had put the thought out of my mind.
“If anything happens to him, would you go back home?” Edan persisted.
“I couldn’t. My father cast me out. Anyway, I wouldn’t want to. My life was miserable there.”
“Don’t you want to be with any of your own people?”
“Of course I do. I miss my mother, my friend, Fritha, and my little brother very much. I hate to think I might never see them again. I keep busy, so I won’t think about them too much.” This was true. I made sure I had little time in any day to brood, although I’m not a person who broods anyway. What’s done is done. Yet I hoped, with all my heart, to see them again someday.
“If you could go anywhere in the world, with anyone you chose, where would you go?” His voice sounded dreamy.
“I wouldn’t go anywhere. I’d stay right here where I am.” This was not strictly true. I wanted to be with McLir. Where we went didn’t matter to me, but I didn’t want to say that to Edan.
“You’re fortunate indeed to be so content. Very few people are where they want to be in this life. I envy you.”
“What about you? Where do you want to go?”
“Me? A kind land. Somewhere where there is rich soil to grow enough food, so I will never be hungry again. Somewhere peaceful, with no need to fight battles or kill men. Somewhere I can grow old and watch my children play.”
“Is there a land like that?”
“In dreams perhaps. I don’t think such a place exists or, at least, not for me,” he said. I heard a strange wistfulness in his voice.
“Perhaps you will find it one day,” I said with a smile. “You just haven’t been there yet.”
“Which is a good reason for me to keep searching until I do - someday.”
“Someday,” I echoed and something made me cross my fingers together tightly, as I said the word.
24
Often, in the following days, I thought again about the future. Edan had brought my precarious situation into my mind with so much force I became restless. McLir would leave the island one day and he had never offered to take me with him. Belatedly, I realised this was the reason he had been so reluctant to offer me sanctuary. He took me with him, when he had found me with Keir, simply because he had no choice. He would not stand aside and see me injured or raped.
What would the outlook be for me, if I did not stay with McLir or go home again? McLir seemed to think my future lay with Edan. When I once asked him why, he told me he had seen us in his vision. He encouraged us to be together and he always smiled when he watched us chatting like old friends. Often he went out, taking Shea for a walk, so we were left alone. In one way, I enjoyed being with Edan, for we shared many thoughts and he made me laugh. In others, I felt unsure of him, for he had a reserve I could not penetrate. Sometimes I surprised a bleak expression on his face. Often he was moody and did not answer me if I asked him questions. Then his mood changed and he became again the pleasant companion I had come to like so much. My feelings about him were totally confused.
Edan’s ankle was healing. The swelling had gone down and he was able to rotate his foot again. McLir gave him a crutch, so he hobbled around, sometimes even touching the ground with the tip of his toe. Little by little, he took more weight on his leg. He began to use the crutch as a stick rather than a prop. He made short walks outside, often going as far as the rocks from where we caught our fish. He began to manage most things for himself, without our help, but we did not return to the sea cave. McLir showed no sign of leaving, because he wanted to be at hand when Edan walked freely again. I did not care. One cave is very like another to me. We were comfortable enough in this one and Shea enjoyed the freedom of the land, where he ran free. The dog often took himself off for hours, hunting or exploring. We never found out where he went or what he did, although he sometimes he smelled of the sea or of bog or cows’ pastures.
McLir told me to be careful not to let anyone discover where the three of us were. He did not say why, and I did not ask. I was so used to being cautious now, for his sake and my own. When McLir went to Stoill’s place and the other villages nearby, he always returned by a different path each time. Sometimes, he even moored his boat behind the rocks and swam ashore.
One day he brought back some of the pots he had put around the sea cave. I helped him manhandle them up from the ship because they were heavy. We placed them around the clearing outside the cave.
“What are those?” Edan asked when he saw us. He moved to help us, but McLir gestured him away.
“We can manage. These are smoke pots. They contain soils which catch fire and give off choking fumes,” McLir explained to him. “If we need to leave here in a hurry, the smoke will confuse anyone who’s looking for us. For a little time at least.”
I don’t know what Edan thought of these preparations, he never said anything to me. Yet he showed great interest in the substances McLir had put into the pots. McLir described some of their mysteries to him.
“So this is how you make your sea mists! I heard stories about strange fumes wreathing your ship from some fishermen I met.”
McLir grinned. For a moment, the little urchin he had been showed in the man’s face. “All mysteries are simple enough when they’re explained. Remember that fact.”
“I will!”
Edan was a young and healthy man. I suppose I should not have wondered at his rapid recovery. In a few days, he was able to walk stiffly but without too much pain. Not long afterwards, he could run again, as I found out to my cost. I teased him and ran off before he answered me. I didn’t get far. He caught me up and tickled me until I howled. He said it was a proper punishment for all the cheek I’d given him. I’m not sure about that, but it was nice to be held in his arms, for any reason. Being so close to him raised strange thoughts in my brain, pleasurable and unexpected. For the first time since McLir had rejected me, I wondered about maki
ng love with a man; someone near to my own age perhaps, someone like Edan. I wasn’t sure I wanted to find out yet, but I was certain if I made him the offer, he wouldn’t reject me. Pride blinded me to reality. I was conceited enough to think I was the reason why Edan had never tried to leave us.
McLir had become more vigilant in watching him, now he no longer needed our help. We both had a strange feeling of anticipation. It was as if we waited for the storm after hearing the first roll of thunder. Something was about to happen.
One morning, a few days later, I awoke to find Edan was not in the cave. I thought no more about him at first. He often got up and went to fetch wood or water before we stirred. I set about my usual tasks, although I felt groggy, for I had slept without moving all through the night. McLir and Shea still lay there, which was unusual. Once one of us moved about, the rest usually awoke. I thought they must be tired, from their hours of wandering on the previous day. So I brewed some herb tea and I went to wake McLir. He did not rouse to my touch, as he always did. I had to shake him hard, before his eyes opened. They were bleary and his skin was very pale.
“Máistir!” I shouted in his ear. “Máistir, what’s wrong with you?”
He sat up shakily, rubbing his face with his hands. “Tired...”
I gave him the cup and guided it to his lips. As he sipped the hot liquid, some colour came back into his cheeks and his eyes began to focus.
“Shea?” he asked, for the dog had still not moved.
I went to him and shook him too, but he did not respond. McLir put down his cup and crawled over to us. He pulled back an eyelid and frowned.
“Drugged!” he said, and I suddenly remembered Edan giving Shea the last of his stew. He said he’d had enough and joked that he was a better metalworker than he was a cook. He had been the one to make our meal for a change. He made his mother’s type of stew, or so he said, but he had not done her justice.
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