The ship slid silently into the mouth of the great river.
“This is far enough. The boats can float for some distance further upstream when you return. No need to alert anyone now that we’re interested in the place.”
“No, let them remain ignorant as long as possible.”
“Remember I’ll wait here for you when the moon wanes, to guide you in.”
“Sharpen your sword before you come, you’ll need it.”
“It’s already sharp and tired of being idle!”
“Odin stay beside you, little brother.”
“And beside you!”
21
I got back to the cave safely. In different clothes and with my beard growing, I thought I might go among men once more without being recognised. I altered my manner from the metalworker I had been. I decided to become a farm labourer, looking for work because his master had died. I made up a story about not getting on with the son who had inherited his land. It was a common tale in times like these. I affected the stammer I had as a child. My tongue no longer tied itself in knots, but I had not forgotten how to slur my speech. I also made a red mark on my forehead with dye, to look as if I had a strawberry birthmark. I smiled as I drew the outline for, in truth, my mother would not recognise me now. She would hate to see me so disfigured.
I had kept the king’s token, in case anyone should ask awkward questions. The thing was still useful, for the drawing is the same for all men, whatever their business or rank. I packed and hid the rest of my tools behind some rocks at the back of the cave. I didn’t want to carry them with me, in case I was ever searched, for they would give me away. It cost me a pang to part with my good tools, which had always served me well. I felt as if I was abandoning them. If our raid proved successful, though, I would hold them in my hands again soon enough.
When I was ready, I set off on the long journey to the king’s stronghold. My disguise proved effective. No one questioned me and I went on my way unchallenged. I found the fortress easily enough and rejoiced for it was far away from the area I was interested in. The king’s men could not be brought into battle soon enough to stop us landing. We would be established well before they arrived. Only two ships looked big enough to carry troops in any numbers. I studied them, as they lay in the harbour. They were unwieldy craft, no match for our ships in either speed or manoeuvrability. Neither would arrive in time to save the settlement. We would have a proper stockade up, ambushes set and everything well defended before the soldiers came. If they had sufficient warning of our coming, they might be a danger, but the chance was slight. I now possessed the information Dag needed and I felt pleased. Nothing I had found out would upset our plans. I made my way back to the north of the island in a contented frame of mind.
I decided that I would stay hidden in my cave until Dag returned. No point in taking any more chances, now I had all the information I needed. However, on that return journey, Odin’s favour left me again and my luck ran out. Perhaps I had become a bit careless once more, for nothing had alarmed me since the day I left Oshin’s village.
Darkness fell when I was not far from the cave and I wanted to reach it as soon as possible. In the half-light, I wandered into a patch of bog. The ground sank beneath me suddenly, and I fell forward into the mire. Startled, I made a sharp sound, which carried on the still air. A shout answered me, away to my left. I froze where I lay, cursing the ill luck and my own cry, while I decided what to do. The moon had set, so whoever shouted would not be able to spot me. They might hear me, though, when I moved. I would not be able to climb out of the bog without making any noise. I did not want to lead them to the cave. If they followed me and found my tools, they would discover who I was. I had no doubt the word had gone out to hold anyone with such things in their possession. If I stayed still, they might just miss me. If not, I’d bluff, but I was very reluctant to lie helplessly and wait. My journey was almost finished. I wanted to get back to the cave and rest. I suppose my nerves must have been on edge. My thoughts were certainly jumbled, because what I did next proved to be a grave mistake.
I dragged myself out of the mire as quickly as I could, careless of the noise I made. I took to my heels. I ran down the hill, away from the cave, hoping no other bogs lay in my path. The light was too dim for me to watch where I put my feet. I prayed to Odin to guide me as I ran. The god is fickle, as everyone knows, and he had favoured me more than my due already. So he did not need to listen to all the prayers I sent him.
More shouts and feet pounded after me as I ran. I should have stopped and rolled under a bush, to let them pass me by, but I didn’t. If you think you are a fugitive, you become one – and run away. I have no excuse. What I did was stupid and almost proved my undoing.
I floundered down the hillside. At least two men followed and gained on me. I wondered if I would have to turn and fight them off. Then I put my right foot into a hole and pitched forward. I tried to get to my feet again, but my ankle gave way under me. The pain was so intense I knew I could never get away. I rolled myself in a tight ball underneath a gorse bush and pulled its branches down over me. If they managed to find me, I would have to fight. I drew out my dagger, a poor tool, but no farm labourer carries anything better. I’d left my sword behind in the cave. I lay motionless, breathing as quietly as possible, trying to still my gasps of pain and exertion. Then the luck, which had treated me so harshly, changed again, and my pursuers missed me in the darkness. They fumbled along, some distance on my right. Footsteps moved away from me and did not come back. I do not know what happened, or where they went, but they were gone. I lay still for a while, although the gorse had prickles and some of its spines dug into my flesh. The discomfort was slight in comparison to the pain in my ankle. The throbbing gave me a horrible fear I had broken a bone.
When I was sure the men had gone, I rolled out of my uncomfortable hiding place. I got onto my knees. As I expected, when I tried to rise, my leg would not take my weight. I collapsed on the heather groaning. I felt my ankle with shaking fingers. I had suffered such injuries before, so I knew at once that the joint was badly swollen, already hot and puffy. The swelling stopped me from finding out whether any bones were broken. It did not matter. I was in real danger now, if my pursuers returned or if others found me. I could neither run, nor make more than the token of a fight. I would have to rely on my tongue to talk me out of trouble. I would not be believed, of course, whatever I said. I had run away, and a man who flees is always suspected. The men who followed me would tell their tale which would be all over the area in no time. Nothing flies faster than a good story, except perhaps gossip. I was a long way from the poor safety of my cave. I would take hours to get there - if I could do so at all.
I started to crawl forwards but I had to stop frequently. The pain became too much to bear, at times, and I had to pull thorns out of my skin. I scraped my hands and knees raw on the heather and bracken. I wondered if I would be able to keep going. Daylight could find me lying exposed upon the mountain. This almost happened. Luckily, I found a broken branch, long enough for me to use as a crutch. I was able to make better progress for a while, until the thing snapped under the strain. Dawn broke and I lay only yards from the cave entrance
I have never been so exhausted. I had only enough energy to crawl inside and lie still. Despite the pain, I slept through the day like someone already dead. I awoke in semi-darkness. My ankle burned and my throat was parched with thirst. I sat up gingerly, every muscle aching in protest. My head started to swim, and it took some time before the world steadied once more. All I saw was blurred, like the outline of the cave entrance. The last glow of the sunset had almost gone. Whether I liked the thought or not, I had to move soon. I would not die of a broken ankle, but I could easily die of thirst and I had no water in the cave itself.
I rolled onto to my hands and knees again, wincing as I opened up my cuts and grazes. The stream was not far away, but seemed to be miles to me in my condition. I was lucky not to collapse befo
re reaching the bank. Water has never tasted so delicious before or since. I drank my fill until my throat no longer ached. I bathed my ankle, my hands and my knees in the clear cold stream. The coldness gave me some relief. Then I realised I had forgotten to bring anything with me to carry water back to the cave. I almost cried out at the thought. Now, I would have to go back, fetch something and return. I could not face the journey right away. I lay in the heather, dangling my foot in the water and staring at the starry sky above me. Exhaustion and relief from some of my pain, made me sleep again.
I woke sometime in the night, as rain thudded onto my face. I looked up into a stormy sky with scudding clouds flying across the moon. The wind howled like demons, blowing leaves and dust everywhere. I cursed weakly and rolled over, to protect my eyes. In that moment I had forgotten about my ankle, but the sudden movement jarred the injury. A hot pain stabbed into me. Gingerly I sat up and touched it. My whole leg was cold, chilled by the water. But my skin, which should have been wrinkled, had been stretched taut. My ankle throbbed now, so much I had to set my teeth and I felt wretched. I put my leg into the stream again and sat for a while, nerving myself to go back to the cave. I shuddered with the cold, as I tried to decide which action was worse. Should I crawl into shelter? Or to sit here in the rain and wind, with some of my pain relieved.
I had made the decision to move, when I heard a noise further down the hill, like footsteps coming towards me. I pulled out my dagger and froze. The footsteps were soft, ghostly even and I shuddered. Surprising what you can imagine on a dark night when you are in pain. I don’t think I would have been surprised if phantoms and spectres surrounded me. They didn’t of course and the sounds died away. I even wondered if I had imagined them. I listened intently, but the only remaining sound was the wind in the trees. By that time, I was too cold to do anything else and I had lost the will to move. Also, I did not want to be trapped in the cave. Although my movements were restricted, I believed I stood a better chance in the open. The first glimmers of dawn were already in the sky. So I made myself as comfortable as possible. I would make my journey in the full light of day when I could look for any watchers.
I slept, as uncomfortable as I was. The next noise I heard was, unbelievably, the sound of singing. At first, I thought I still dreamed, because I knew the song well. My mother used to sing the same tune to me when I was young. But as consciousness returned, I realised the voice was not my mother’s. This singer was younger, her tone higher and sweeter. A girl came along the path towards me, singing.
I did not make any noise, for I did not want her to find me. The bushes rustled and she stepped out onto the bank of the stream. She turned and I recognised her. She jumped in fright at seeing someone unexpectedly.
“Renny!” I called, remembering her name with an effort. She frowned in puzzlement as she looked at me. She had no idea who I was, yet I had called her by name. I had forgotten the changes I’d made in my appearance. As I turned my face towards her, though, she must have seen something familiar. Her frown cleared and she came towards me. I was certainly no threat to her, lying sprawled on the river bank, one leg still resting in the water. I knew I looked a sorry sight and she had alarm in her face.
“You are hurt,” she said, but I only answered her with a groan. She ran her hands down my leg and I did not resist her. When she touched my ankle, I nearly screamed and she stopped.
“What did you do to yourself?”
“Fell into a hole,” I mumbled. “Is my ankle broken?”
Her fingers pressed hard into my swollen flesh and I almost swooned from the stabbing pain.
“I can’t tell. One of the small bones may be cracked, but the swelling is too bad for me to be sure. McLir will know, but I can’t just leave you lying here like this. The rain’s about to start again.”
“The cave...over there...”
“I see it.”
“Help me get there...”
The trip back was easier than my journey down to the stream. She helped and encouraged me all the way. When we got inside, she started to wrap her own cloak around me but I pulled it off and handed it back to her.
“Renny, don’t tell anybody where I am. Just fetch me some water and leave me here. I’ll be all right.”
“No you won’t. Your ankle won’t heal properly unless someone binds it up. Something similar once happened to me, so I know.”
“Can’t you do it for me?”
“I might do it all wrong. McLir knows how, I don’t. Why don’t you want me to fetch him?”
I bit my lip and did not answer. She sat back on her heels and looked at me, one eyebrow raised.
“You don’t want him to come, because he knows you’re a Norseman, is that right?” she asked softly.
I nodded, too tired and confused to make up a story for her benefit. She had been present when I made my slip. “I betrayed myself when McLir quoted from the sagas and I answered him. He knew then, didn’t he?”
“He recognised the way you spoke and the buckle on your belt. You’re not wearing it any more.”
“No. I took it off. A bit too late. Stupid of me not to realise, but I’ve worn the thing all my life. Did McLir send the pursuit after me?”
She nodded. “He had to tell the king, once he knew. What are you really doing here?”
“Looking for work, like I told you.”
“McLir says there’re far more jobs back in the western island. Why didn’t you stay where you came from? Don’t tell me the tale about wanting a change. That’s a big place and you can’t possibly have seen all of it yet; you’re not old enough. This is a poor little island. Why did you come here? Are you running away or something?”
I couldn’t tell her the truth, but, for once in my life, the lie stuck on my tongue. I thought it a poor repayment for her help and I liked the girl. I thought hard for I had no option except to give her some sort of answer and I took the easy way out.
“I killed a man.” I told her. This was no lie. I had killed men in various battles and skirmishes, since I was old enough to go raiding with my brothers.
“How?”
“In a fair fight, but his kin don’t think so, and I had to get away from them. My brother dropped me here and told me to stay put until all the fuss died down.”
“Is that the real reason?”
“Yes.”
“Then why didn’t you say so before?”
“It’s nobody’s business but my own. A chance word might reach my enemies and they’d come after me.” Telling this sort of half truth might be better than lying in future. It seemed easier, at least. Now I was about to find out whether she accepted the tale or not. I closed my eyes, so I should not see her reaction and, perhaps, betray myself further. I wanted her to believe me and go away. The weight of her cloak dropped over me again and my eyes snapped open.
She said simply, “If that’s all, you’ve nothing to fear from McLir. I’ll fetch him back to you, as quickly as I can, but I may take a little time to find him.”
“Don’t leave your cloak, you’ll get wet without it.”
She smiled at me. “I’ve been wet before. Keep it. I’ll be back soon.” She left me there, wondering if I’d been a fool to trust her.
22
Stones crunched under a boot heel and woke me up. I reached for my dagger and stared up at the figure entering the cave. He straightened his back and I looked into the magician’s face.
“Ah you’re awake,” he said. “Renny tells me you’ve been injured.”
I nodded and croaked, “My ankle...”
He knelt beside me and I heard snuffling, as the dog followed him in. “Shea, sit!” McLir gestured him away from me. Obediently, the dog went further into the cave, inspecting the place thoroughly with his nose.
McLir’s hands were gentle but much stronger than the girl’s. The pain of his examination made me lose track of the world around me, for a time. When I came to, he was binding up my ankle with strips of dampened cloth.
His eyes flickered to mine. “Well, you haven’t broken any bones, I’m glad to say. I’ve rubbed in some witch hazel to bring the swelling down.”
“I feel as if it’s broken.”
“Only a sprain, but you didn’t do any good by trying to crawl. You won’t be able to walk for several days and you’ll need a crutch for a while, if you must move. You’d be better advised to keep still, until the swelling goes down.”
Renny came in at that moment and joined us. Her hair had darkened with the rain to the colour of old bracken, not her usual flaming red. I like such hair on a woman, perhaps because my mother’s hair is that colour.
“I’ve found some dry wood,” she told us.
“There’s food, behind those rocks.” I pointed.
I’d left most of the provisions Dag had given me behind, when I travelled south. I’d buried some dried meat and hard biscuits, well wrapped up, under a cairn of stones to keep the animals away.
“Are we staying here, Máistir?” Renny asked.
“For tonight at least.”
“I’ll make a fire, then.”
I had never made a fire in the cave, for fear of betraying my presence. I almost protested. Then I stopped, as I realised that these two, at least, already knew my whereabouts. If they wanted to betray me, I could not escape the king’s soldiers. I lay back and watched the flickering flames. They transformed the bleak place from a refuge to something like the semblance of a home.
“Why did you cut your hair and grow a beard?” Renny asked me when we had eaten. “I didn’t recognise you until you turned your head and I saw your scar.”
“I didn’t want to be recognised. The king’s men had been searching for me, thanks to you.” I glanced at McLir. His expression did not change. They knew all about that anyway, so it did me no harm to admit the fact.
“Why didn’t you wait and talk to them, if the tale you told me is true?” Renny asked me, pointedly.
Manannan's Magic Page 18
