Red Rowan: Book 4: The Dwarf Moot

by Helen Gosney

  “Do these bloody things not bother Rowan?” Cris said, slapping at his neck in frustration.

  “Not as much as you’d expect, no,” Conor said, “But the cursed things seem to love me!”

  “As do we all,” Violet laughed at him cheekily. She was a very pretty girl with bright blue eyes and long black braids, a striking combination that wasn’t uncommon among the foresters. She rode very well, as all of the foresters seemed to – to Cris’ surprise – and Ashen was giving her a wonderful run. The grey was strong, fast and brave as all of Rowan’s horses seemed to be, and it jumped superbly. It was no wonder that Rowan generally rode the handsome young stallion himself.

  He took them on a roundabout route through the trees, temporarily losing quite a few on the way as he doubled back several times. He was unsurprised a little later to hear a quiet yip behind him as his own black and tan dogs, Umber and Boof, ran from the trees to gambol joyfully beside Raven.

  “I thought I’d see you two somewhere along the way,” he laughed as he bent down dangerously low to pat them. “Dammit, I forgot how tall you are, Raven,” he added as he dismounted to do the job properly and safely.

  He stroked the dogs and Raven as he thought about where he was and where he should go next. Hmm… probably time to get to Barnaby’s Clearing and get the ribbon, turn around, and go back to town. He didn’t want the cooks back there to have their efforts wasted, but some hunters would certainly, and unavoidably, be late for lunch if he had anything to do with it.

  Naturally he wouldn’t simply head straight to the clearing: that would be making things too easy for his pursuers. Besides, there were sometimes some who went straight to the turnaround point, rather than following him through the forest… it was a practice generally frowned on by the foresters, who felt it was unsporting, but most years there’d be somebody who’d try it.

  He headed off to the Rainbow Falls, a narrowish, lovely waterfall some hundred and fifty feet high that cascaded down the sheer face of a rocky scarp, splitting into two as it poured over a single big rocky bit jutting out. This was called by various names, but the most generally acceptable one was the Ogre’s Nose, and in fact it did have a distinctly high-bridged nasal appearance from most angles.

  Rowan paused at the bottom as he and Raven and the dogs had a small drink, watching the beautiful play of light on the tumbling water as it divided over the Nose. Zara had loved to come here, he thought. Gods, I miss you, my heart. I wish you were still here with me. He gave himself a mental shake for wanting things that simply couldn’t be, remounted Raven, and trotted across the little river that ran on into the trees. Raven had no problem with it, but Rowan knew that everyone else would, with the roaring falls so close. Even his kinfolk would have their hands full getting horses over this, after the excitement of the chase through the trees… the thought cheered him as he headed for Barnaby’s Clearing, the dogs running happily beside him.

  **********

  Rowan stopped Raven a short distance from the big clearing that was home to perhaps a dozen or so forester families. He could see the old man for whom it was named sitting in a comfortable chair on his verandah, whittling. Barnaby had been the foreman of the logging crew who’d cleared this particular area, and it was only fitting it was named for him. There were a few children running about and… yes. Four horses grazing quietly in the shade, with several young men sitting on the ground nearby. Well, they wouldn’t be a problem.

  Rowan whistled, just loudly enough for the horses to hear him. They raised their heads as one, their ears flickering as they worked out where he was, and then they cantered straight towards him.

  “What the hell…!” one of the men shouted, “Come back, you buggers!”

  All four of the men ran after their mounts as quickly as they could, mystified as to what had caused them to suddenly run off like that. One of them started to curse softly and virulently.

  “What’s up with you, Simm?” another said without stopping his pursuit of his inexplicably wayward horse.

  “Look! There he bloody is, over there! The cheeky bugger!” Simm said heatedly, pointing to where the horses were clustered around Rowan, a bit more than a quarter of a mile away.

  Rowan pointed to the trees and promptly disappeared into them, the horses following. Laughing to himself, he only went a little way, tied the horses to a tree and headed for Barnaby’s house. The old man and all of the inhabitants of the little settlement were there to greet him and all were laughing at the plight of the young foresters whose horses had gone to Rowan so easily.

  “That’ll teach them, the clever young buggers!” Barnaby said delightedly, shaking Rowan’s hand, “You’d think they’d at least tie their damned horses up, wouldn’t you?”

  “And I suppose you forgot to remind them?” Rowan said with a grin.

  “Clean slipped our minds, all of us!” one of the youngsters said, patting Raven.

  The stallion nuzzled the boy’s hands gently, hoping he might perhaps have something nice for him, like a peppermint. He didn’t, but Rowan gave him one for Raven and one for himself, and then passed the bag around among everyone else.

  “Well, thank you, all of you. If they can’t find their horses, I’ve left them by a little creek over there, tied to a marblebark. ‘Tis only a couple of hundred yards into the trees,” Rowan said.

  The others nodded and Barnaby tied the green ribbon onto Raven’s bridle that showed he’d truly been to the settlement.

  “Away you go, laddie. Here they come now,” the old man said, “Oh, dear! Looks like they forgot to check their girths!”

  Rowan looked at him and laughed.

  “Serves the bastards right. They hadn’t even loosened their poor beasts’ girths, so I did it for them,” he said, watching as one after the other of the men tumbled to the ground. They were up again quickly, obviously unhurt, but cursing colourfully as their horses again cantered to Rowan.

  “You’d best keep them here for the silly buggers, I suppose, and I’ll be on my way. Give my regards to the hunters when they come through,” he said, and trotted Raven into the trees again.

  **********

  Ninety minutes or so later, he sat quietly on Raven’s back in the middle of a narrow logging track, listening to the birds and waiting for the riders he could hear coming towards him.

  “Hello, Rowan lad, I thought we might see you somewhere along here,” Rhys called cheerfully as he and the trolls rounded a bend at a gentle jog. “I see Umber and Boof found you, as always.”

  “Aye, they did. And I knew you’d be the only ones sensible enough to head back for town when ‘tis getting on for lunch time. Well, you and the dwarves I passed about twenty minutes ago,” Rowan said, “Have you had a good day?”

  “Oh, yes, Rowan!” the trolls replied at more or less the same time, “It has been wonderful!”

  “And Strawberry and Lavender have managed all right?”

  “Yes. Of course we did not try to keep up with all of the other speedier horses, but they have done well,” Moss said, patting his roan mare’s neck fondly.

  “I’m proud of Lavender too. Well, truly, I think we’ve all done well today, Rowan, and the best part is that we’ll get started on lunch before all those madmen get back and eat the lot,” Chinook said happily.

  “Good, I’ll let the cooks know that you’re not far behind me. Now, were there any injuries that you saw?”

  “Not really, Rowan. A few bumps and bruises and scratches from brambles and things, and some sore backsides for those that fell off, but nothing worse than that. Some of the horses are pretty weary, but they’re being quietly led back, rather than ridden. They’ll be all right with a good rest. Oh, and one of the trolls managed to sprain an ankle. Young Oak, it was,” Rhys said.

  “Is he all right?’

  “Yes. We offered him a ride home, but he said he’d rather hobble than ride, thank you very much, so we bandaged him up extra well and that’s what he’s doing. His brother’s with him, so
he’ll be all right.”

  “We’ll have to show him the error of his ways, Moss. I’m sure he’ll listen to you, and we can find another good gentle horse for him easily enough,” Rowan said with a smile.

  “I think so too, Rowan. He does not know what he is missing,” Moss said.

  “We’ll work on him over the next little while, then. Maybe on some of the others, too. And now, I suppose I should get a move on. Dammit! Nearly forgot… I’d better let the smart buggers who didn’t go at all have their fun too,” Rowan said.

  “What dost thou mean, Rowan?” Moss asked.

  Rowan looked at his father and laughed.

  “There’s always some clever buggers who don’t go with everyone else, but hang around just outside the town until Rowan gets back and then they try to catch him on the way in,” Rhys said, “If he’s riding Mica or Soot, or Ashen for that matter, they’ve got no hope of catching him in a straight race, but… well, with all respect to Raven, he’s not as fast as them…”

  “No, he’s not, but he’s no sluggard either. And I’m not so heavy for him to carry. I think we’ll be all right,” Rowan said. He’d done what he could to conserve the horse’s strength and it was still bright-eyed and keen to run.

  “Can we come with thee to the last hill, so we can watch, Rowan?” Moss asked eagerly.

  Rowan nodded, and they set off again.

  “Young Cris seems to be very taken with Farrel d’Gram’s daughter,” Rhys observed as they trotted along.

  “Does he? Which one?” Rowan hoped devoutly that it wasn’t Violet, who Conor had his eye on.

  “The older one, Daisy. They were riding side by side all day.”

  “Ah. Well, maybe he’ll find his heart is recovering a bit better than he thought it would.”

  “Maybe he is, at that,” Rhys said with a smile as he changed the subject, “Now, how far behind you is everyone else, lad?”

  “Apart from the dwarves, you mean?” Rowan laughed happily again, “About forty-five minutes or so, I think. The last time I saw them they were trying to find me at the Bluff.”

  “Gods. You’ve probably lost a few more there, then.”

  “I hope so.”

  **********

  15. “got you at last!”

  Sure enough, Rowan found that there were nearly a dozen mounted foresters waiting for him at various points around the town. He scouted around them all carefully and chose his point of attack.

  Raven came down the main road into town travelling in the deceptively fast and physically undemanding gait that Rowan had taught to all of his horses: the odd gait that wasn’t a trot, canter, or gallop but somehow an amalgam of all three. The gait that’d originated with Mica. To an observer it seemed like he wasn’t going fast at all, but… well, it was deceptive. On this side of town there were only two young foresters waiting, and it was obvious that they weren’t expecting him to come this way. They were well apart and both had dismounted.

  Raven went past the first one easily and kept going, the two dogs running beside him.

  Rowan smiled as he heard “Bugger me! Get after him, Rafe. I’ll be right behind you!”

  Rafe leapt into the saddle as Raven swept past him too. It was perhaps a mile to the finish from here, and all of the waiting crowds – and, luckily, the trolls and Rhys - had a good view of this exciting race.

  “You’re mine, Rowan! I’ve got you at last!” Rafe shouted as his big bay horse galloped up almost within reach of Raven’s flying tail.

  “Not yet, you haven’t, lad!”

  Rowan leaned low over Raven’s neck, patted him and said softly, “Here we go, Raven lad. Now’s your chance to show these buggers how fast you truly can run. Make your Pa proud!”

  He squeezed the horse with his knees, added a nudge from his heels for good measure and gave Raven his head. The big black stallion surged forward in a full gallop, leaving Rafe for dead.

  Boof and Umber barked joyously as Raven drew away and kept drawing away, no matter what Rafe did.

  “Don’t bloody whip him, Rafe, he’s already doing the best he can,” Rowan called back over his shoulder as he heard unmistakeable noises behind him.

  “We’ll see about that!”

  We will indeed, Rowan thought. I weigh a hell of a lot less than you, and Raven is Soot’s son and has a hell of a lot of his speed and courage. He bent lower over Raven’s neck, reducing drag, and felt the horse respond, finding a bit more speed for him.

  “Good lad, Raven, brave horse. ‘Tisn’t far now, and they’re not going to catch us,” he said happily.

  He glanced around to see that he was well in front and even drawing away a bit more, but his face hardened as he saw Rafe’s arm was still rising and falling as he continued to whip his horse. For a moment Rowan was tempted to slow down and deal with it here, but no… Raven deserved his time of glory.

  Rowan, Raven and the dogs swept past the cheering crowd at the finishing line at top speed, then slowed and stopped a couple of hundred yards further on in a little group of trees.

  “Thank you, Raven laddie. You were very brave, and bloody fast too. Good lad,” Rowan said as he made much of his horse and loosened its girth. He frowned though as Rafe and his friend galloped across the line. Rafe’s horse was streaked with blood and foam and it was trembling as it came to a stumbling stop beside him. Both young men dismounted and came over to Rowan, trying to ignore the sudden growls from both normally friendly dogs.

  “Rafe, you bloody idiot! Was it truly so fraggin important to you to catch me?” Rowan demanded furiously, “I’d have stopped for you if I’d known you’d treat your horse like this. The poor creature was doing its best, carrying a great lump like you at a gallop.” He took the whip from Rafe’s hands, whacked it hard around the lad’s backside - just once, but that’d be enough - and then broke it with a quick stamp of his booted foot. “Please don’t ever do that again, Rafe. You shame yourself and your clan.”

  “I… I’m sorry, Rowan. I…” Rafe gabbled as he tried not to rub at his suddenly very sore backside.

  He was about twenty, a big braggart of a lad of the Marblebark clan. He stood six inches taller than Rowan and was much more heavily built, but there was no way he was going to take on the older man. He was very relieved to see the fire fade from his eyes, relieved too that those in the crowd wouldn’t have been able to see what’d just happened because of the trees.

  “Right, now let’s go back and be made a fuss of, but not before I see to your poor beastie. What’s his name?” Rowan said as he stroked the horse’s sweaty neck.

  “Tem. Rowan, I… I’m truly sorry that I…”

  “Good. You should be. Now, Tem, let me have a look at you…”

  He took the bay’s saddle off, then rubbed it down carefully with an old towel taken from his saddle bag. He ran his hands down its trembling legs, walked it around a bit and gave it a couple of sips of water that he tipped from his water bottle into his hands. Finally he patted it, Raven and the third horse again, gave them all a peppermint and turned to the very chastened Rafe.

  “”You’ll need to walk him for a good while, and don’t give him any more water for a good ten minutes or so. Then only a little bit at a time. Same for you, Jamie. Me too, if it comes to that. Now, let’s go and get our backs patted while we do it,” he said and walked off, all three horses and both dogs following at his heels.

  Rafe and Jamie looked at each other as Rafe picked up his saddle.

  “That wasn’t smart, Rafe. I heard him tell you to stop,” Jamie said quietly.

  “So did I. I wish I’d bloody listened. Great Bloody Hells! My poor damned backside wishes I’d listened!”

  **********

  The spitroasted lamb and beef and coal-baked bread and vegetables were very good indeed and so were the fruit pies and assorted pastries and cheeses that followed them. There was plenty for everyone, no matter how far behind the others they turned up. These foresters certainly do know how to eat and have a good
time, Cris thought a bit wistfully as he sat beside Daisy. She and her sister were only eighteen months apart in age, and very similar in looks. Both had glorious soprano voices too, and they usually led the foresters in their working songs when it was their turn to be working in the trees. She stood around six foot tall and towered over the little ratcatcher, but it didn’t seem to be bothering her, he noted with relief.

  Tadeus watched them together and smiled to himself. He’d felt dreadful, having to give Cris the news of Shana’s wedding to another man. Perhaps now he wouldn’t need to fret himself about upsetting him, he thought happily.

  Rowan was ceremoniously presented with the Bunny Trophy for another year – appropriately enough, it was a stuffed rabbit with a green ribbon around its neck that’d go beside the others on Rowan’s mantelpiece. The cats liked to sit up there beside the bunnies, and the dogs had disgraced themselves one morning by grabbing one that’d got knocked down and making off with it. They’d returned it a bit the worse for wear, but return it they had when Rowan had called them. He’d laughed so much at the dogs’ crestfallen demeanour that he hadn’t had the heart to tell them off, but they’d never been tempted again, even when the cats made a game of knocking all the Bunny Trophies down.

  **********

  16. “a great one for the waifs and strays”

  Griff and Honi trotted their horses down the little track that led home. They’d been away for slightly more than seven weeks, though neither they nor Rowan had thought they’d be away for so long. They’d had a good break, caught up with the doings of Honi’s kin and met all the new babies, young lovers and proud grandparents, and planted a tree for each one who’d died since their last visit. When Griff had started to get a bit restless in spite of his best intentions, they’d made their farewells and gone to Sinter, the little city on the lakes slightly to the south east of the centre of Sian. When they’d tired of city life they’d simply moved a few miles out of town, to a secluded stretch of the lake, and that’s where they’d stayed for longer than they’d really planned.