Red Rowan: Book 4: The Dwarf Moot

by Helen Gosney

  **********

  “I think you’ve found something that Rill truly is good at, Cris,” Rowan said with a grin, “Well done, both of you. I’d imagine there’ll likely be quite a few folk wanting your help, Rill, once word gets about.”

  **********

  Honi and Griff were most surprised to see Rowan, Cris, Tadeus and Rill coming through the trees, rather than at least some of them being at home, working at one thing and another; they were even more shocked when they realised that Rowan was covered in mud.

  “What the hell have you been doing, Rowan? You’ve not hurt yourself, have you?” Honi managed, after she’d got over her amazement, “We were starting to think that a bunyip had got the lot of you!”

  “No, Honi love, I’m sorry to say there were no bunyips. I’m fine. Oh, and welcome home. Did you have a good time?”

  “Yes. Yes, we did, but why are you all muddy like that? What’ve you been doing?”

  Rowan told them.

  “And you can truly find water just like that, Rill?” Griff asked.

  Rill nodded.

  “Well, my lad, I think you’re going to find yourself fairly busy around here… well, not HERE exactly, though a well closer to that barn would be handy,” he looked suspiciously at the others as they all laughed, “I’m not sure what was so comical about that, you pack of bloody idiots! Er, not you, Brother Tadeus. I meant these other bloody idiots with you. Anyway, Rill, even with all the creeks and things around, there are always folk wanting a well nearer their house, or wherever. You could sort of spread the word about yourself around the district and find plenty of work, I’d imagine. And no, I’m not suggesting that you dig the cursed things yourself, laddie. There’s always an idiot like Rowan who’ll do the job for you.”

  “Aye, there is too, but I’m afraid it’s not going to be me, Rill. We’ll be busy with the foaling and getting the young horses ready for Frissender, and I’ve got to go to Bettra with the g’Farrien before the Horse Fair,” Rowan said. He’d been going to go after that, but had decided that this way would be better.

  “What’s that all about, Rowan?” Cris wondered.

  “Ah. Well, ‘tis a surprise for the g’Hakken. There’s a clan in Bettra, the g’Lerran, bloody secretive buggers they can be, too. Well, insular, rather than secretive, I suppose. Anyway, they’re not always welcoming to strangers, particularly men, for some reason. Just as well I’m a dwarf as well as a forester,” Rowan said, “They’ll soon shut up when they see the clan mark.”

  “But why are you going there…?”

  “Hmm? Oh, sorry, I got a bit sidetracked. Well, they breed a particular sort of little beastie that I know the g’Hakken have been trying to acquire for bloody years, because the g’Lerran only sell them very, very rarely. About every fiftieth solar eclipse, Toren says. And the g’Farrien in town would like a few too. So we thought we’d go together, hope we’ll be lucky and be able to buy some, and I can help to get them home.”

  “But what are they…?”

  “Wait and see, laddie, wait and see. You’ll like them, I promise. We might even keep one for ourselves. No, ‘twould have to be two, or she’d get too lonely.” Rowan thought about it a bit more. “On second thought, maybe not. They’d be too damned small for us, but they’ll be perfect for the g’Hakken, with no disrespect intended to them.”

  “You’re not going to tell us what they are, are you, you bugger?”

  “No, I’m not. And ‘tisn’t only me who won’t tell you, Honi and Griff won’t either. Will they?” Rowan turned to them and frowned as fiercely as he could without laughing.

  “No, we won’t, I promise. A good surprise is worth the wait,” Griff chuckled, “And we’ll have to be careful not to tell Toren when we see him at Frissender.”

  “Dammit! So we will. Still, it’ll be worth it when I take them to the clan.”

  “Assuming the g’Lerran will sell you any, Rowan lad. The g’Farrien say they’ve been over there to Bettra and come back empty-handed a couple of times.

  “Aye, the g’Hakken have, too. But maybe this time the buggers might be in a selling mood.”

  **********

  They were, as it turned out, due to a bizarre set of circumstances. It wasn’t the fiftieth solar eclipse, but it was still most unusual. Griff laughed as Rowan told the story; he wished he’d been there with them, and he wished he could be there when Rowan rode into the g’Hakken village with his little ‘beasties’ and sprang his surprise. The dwarves loved surprises, and they’d be especially delighted with this one.

  As for Cris and Rill, they were just as charmed by the little animals as everyone else; just as enchanted as Rowan hoped – no, knew, the g’Hakken would be. Nobody minded having to take care of them until after the Horse Fair and the herd settled in quickly and happily.

  **********

  18. “daft to be traipsing back and forth”

  Life was increasingly busy around the farm now. As well as all of the usual work to be done they were preparing the young horses for sale at Frissender, and then of course there was the quickly approaching foaling season.

  As they were all sitting around under a tree having a break and an inevitable cup of tea, Tadeus confirmed the decision that he’d already made in his heart before Honi and Griff had returned.

  “Rowan… and Griff and Honi too, of course,” he began…

  Honi, Griff, and Rowan glanced quickly at each other. They’d talked about this, as they talked about everything else that affected their lives, and they all thought they knew what the old priest was going to say to them now.

  “Do you have some news for us, Tadeus?” Honi asked gently.

  “Nothing that you’ve not already worked out for yourselves, I suspect,” he said, “But yes, I do. Do you think that I could possibly stay on here and help you with the horses? I’ve got nothing to go back to in Gnash now, and… well, we all know the One’s not around any more, and…”

  Honi came over to him, hugged him, and kissed his cheek.

  “Of course you can, Tadeus. You’re welcome to be here for as long as you like. Didn’t Rowan tell you that?” she said.

  “Well, yes, he did. But I wasn’t quite sure then, and…”

  “… and now you are. Good. We hoped that you’d decide to stay, Tadeus, we can always use an experienced pair of hands around here,” Griff said, shaking his hand. He knew that Tadeus wouldn’t be comfortable with his usual bear hug.

  “I’m not experienced in delivering foals, though, or anything to do with breeding. I’ve never been involved in any of that.”

  “You soon will be, my friend,” Rowan said as he too shook the old priest’s hand, “There’ll be plenty of foals arriving fairly soon, so you’ll get into the way of it quite quickly. You’ll be surprised. Sometimes the mares do get into trouble and need a helping hand, and if that happens, just come and get Griff or me, but mostly they don’t need any real help. They do like to see a friendly face from time to time, though, someone to talk to them and let them know that they’ve not been forgotten,” he smiled happily. He loved foaling time, no matter how much extra work and lost sleep it inevitably entailed. “And in the meantime, there’ll be plenty of riding drills with the young horses, grooming, mucking out stalls, all the usual stuff that you are damned good at.”

  “Rowan! You sound like a bloody slave driver!” Honi said, trying not to laugh at the amazed expression on Rill’s face as he listened to the conversation. He wasn’t used to casual banter with a priest, and he wasn’t quite sure how to take it.

  “Will you stay with us here, or will you stay with the Brothers at the Tabernacle? We’ve enough room, one way and another, and it seems daft to be traipsing back and forth all the time,” Rowan said, neatly ignoring Honi’s outburst, “Besides, the mares have a damned annoying habit of delivering at night, quite often.”

  “Thank you, but I don’t want to be putting anyone out,” Tadeus said. He was staying in Rowan’s cottage and Cris and Rill were wit
h Honi and Griff. They’d used a similar arrangement with the Guardsmen who’d come for the foaling the previous year.

  “Silly man!” Honi said, hugging him again, “You won’t be putting anyone out. It might get a bit crowded when my two lads are home from the trees, and the Guardsmen come to learn the higher training, but we’ve thought about that too, and we’ve decided we’ll just build another house for everyone. We’d have done it anyway, but Fess and Commandant Telli are sending some men to help with it, because it’ll be mostly Guardsmen using it.”

  “Sort of like a barracks, we thought, but not exactly. For a start, it won’t be just one bloody big, long, draughty room, no matter what the Guard Engineers might say. Oh, and the beds will be a damned sight more comfortable, too,” Rowan laughed.

  “Thank the One for that!” Tadeus said fervently. He wasn’t as tall or broadshouldered as Rowan, but he’d always hated the squeaky, narrow iron barracks beds when he’d been in the Guard, too. They seemed to be universal. Siannen beds, on the other hand, were roomy, very comfortable, and made of non-squeaky timber. He’d never slept as well as he was now.

  “And what of you two?” Griff asked, looking at Cris and Rill, “Are you going to stay with us for a bit longer, too? You know you’re both welcome to stay for as long as you like.”

  “I, um… I think I’ll be staying for a while,” Cris said, hoping he wasn’t blushing, but knowing that he most likely was. His friendship with Daisy d’Farrel was going well; he wasn’t sure what might come of it, but in the meantime both he and Daisy were enjoying what they had. He certainly wasn’t going to be rushing off anywhere in the near future.

  “And I, too,” said Rill. He’d already found good well sites for a couple of people, and word was spreading around the district. He’d never imagined that something he simply took for granted would turn out to be so useful, and in fact profitable. He was finally feeling as if he was actually contributing to things.

  “Just as well the clan will give us a hand then, Griff. We won’t have much time to be building anything for a while,” Rowan said, “And Telli said he’d send the Engineers about… now. Of course they’ll travel through the Break, so it’ll take them a bit longer to get here. One way and another though, we’d better get on with it before the lads come back home too. And it’d be good to have it all finished and ready to go before Ross and the others come.”

  Griff nodded. The clan would always help out for something like this; in fact anyone in the community would. It was simply the way that things were done. Besides, Rowan and Griff both helped anyone who had an animal in trouble, no matter what time of the day or night it was, or how far away, and they’d never accept any payment for it. This would be a way for others to show their appreciation. And this time there was an added bonus: the Wirrans would pay them for their work. They’d refused payment at first, but realised how daft it was not to accept something freely given and ultimately needed, and so they’d accepted the offer of fair wages for their work.

  “All the same, Griff, ‘tis a shame I’ve not got my new axe yet. I could have at least chopped a few trees down to get the feel of it,” Rowan said.

  “Well, you’ll just have to use one of the old buggers we’ve been using for years, laddie!”

  **********

  19. “that time is right about now”

  All too soon, Rowan and Griff came back from their daily inspection of the mares to say that they thought some would deliver their foals in the next day or so. It was always an exciting time, but it could be stressful and exhausting too, with the mares’ preference for delivering at night, even with Rowan’s comforting presence.

  The Wirran Engineers hadn’t yet arrived to start work on the barracks, but the foresters had a good idea of what’d be needed and they started making arrangements with the timber mill. They also, on Rowan’s advice, made enquiries at a stone merchant in the next town; apparently Wirrans preferred strong stone foundations for their buildings. Really they preferred stone buildings to timber ones, but there’d simply have to be a bit of give and take on both sides, given the wealth of beautiful and easily accessible timber surrounding them.

  **********

  “Wake up, Cris! Gods, you’re not bloody dead, are you?” Rowan said softly. He didn’t want to wake everyone up, though Griff had appeared silently beside him as he came up the stairs. A whispered conversation made Griff smile, and then head back to bed for a bit longer.

  All the same, Rowan thought that he’d have to start shouting or doing something a bit more drastic if his friend didn’t surface soon. He gave Cris’ shoulder an experimental shove.

  He himself was a light sleeper and always had been, and he’d have been awake and alert the moment somebody got to the front door, just as Griff had been. Well, unless he was in the throes of a damned nightmare of course, and then the dogs and cats would always wake him. At least the horrid dreams weren’t quite as persistent as they’d been… going back to Den Siddon after so long had helped them more than he’d thought it would, but he still thought they’d never go completely.

  Cris looked up at him, bleary-eyed.

  “Rowan? What the hell’s going on? And what bloody time is it?”

  “Shh… you’ll wake up the whole damned valley. ‘Tis just before dawn. Can’t you hear the birds?”

  “I can hear the bloody noisy things,” Cris said grumpily. He really wasn’t at his best very early in the morning, and to make things worse he’d been in the middle of a lovely dream that was fading even as he tried to recall it.

  “Good. Then throw on something warm and come with me, Cris. I’ve got something I’d like you to see…”

  “Can’t it fraggin wait until later?”

  “Well, aye, I suppose it could in some ways… but no. Not really,” Rowan said obscurely, “There’s only ever one time to see this, and that time is right about now.”

  Cris pulled a face and tried to burrow under the bedclothes again.

  “It’d better be very bloody good, lad, or…”

  “… or you’ll punch me in the nose and kick my backside. I know. But it IS good, I promise. Surely you don’t think I’d be prowling about over here in the damned dark for nothing? No, my lad, you’ll thank me for waking you up like this.”

  “Ha! I doubt that very fraggin much.”

  **********

  But Rowan’s enthusiasm was contagious and very soon Cris found himself out of his nice warm bed and hurrying after his friend, curious to see exactly what it was that had him so excited. It was surprisingly cool as they came outside and Cris was glad of Rowan’s warning to put on a jacket as well as a shirt. The sun seemed to be just thinking about rising and the birds were singing the beautiful multi-toned harmony of the dawn chorus to hurry it along a bit, but it was all wasted on Cris right now.

  “Where the hell are we going, you daft bugger?”

  “Over here, to the barn.”

  The penny still hadn’t dropped for Cris. He could be very, very dense at this time of day, or night, as he thought of it. Very grumpy, too.

  “The barn? The fraggin barn? At this bloody hour? I do know what the cursed thing looks like, Rowan!”

  Rowan tried not to laugh, and almost succeeded.

  “I’m pleased to hear it, but ‘tisn’t the outside we’re interested in just now, lovely though it is in its rustic way. Come on, lad, hurry it up a bit!”

  “It’s all right for you with your great long legs, but some of us are…”

  “… ‘not tall’, as the expression is. Aye, I already know that, lad. Now, stop bloody complaining and come in here and see Bonnie and her new baby.”

  Cris’ brain was still a bit slow, though the welcome warmth of the barn was starting to hurry it up a bit.

  “Bonnie? Who the hell’s Bonnie?” suddenly he realised at last, “Oh… she’s the mare that you said was close to foaling when you looked at her last night. Has she…?”

  “Aye. Come and see our first foal of the season… i
t’s a fine little filly. Oh, and don’t fall over the cats. They were here most of the night, and I doubt they’ve gone far.”

  “Have you been here all bloody night?”

  “Aye. Griff and I take it in turns; a few nights on and a few nights off. Mares like to foal at night… I suppose they feel safer.”

  Rowan led the way into a roomy foaling box. A steel grey mare was standing in fresh straw, gently nuzzling at something. She turned her head, nickered softly at Rowan, then nuzzled at the straw again.

  As Cris stared in amazement and wonder, a tiny foal tried to get its long, long legs under some sort of control and stand. On the second attempt it managed to get its little hooves under it and it stood for a moment, swaying precariously, before falling back into the thick straw. The mare nudged it again and whickered softly a second time.

  “All right, Bonnie, my love. I’ll help her; just this time though, mind. We don’t want her to be a lazybones, do we?” Rowan said quietly. He turned to Cris and said, “Don’t ever try doing this yourself, Cris. A lot of mares are very possessive of their foals for a while, and particularly when they’re just born, like this little one. Some will attack, some bite, and they can all kick bloody hard. Mind you, you’d likely be all right with Bess, if ever she gets in foal.”

  He gently helped the foal to stand again, and steadied it as it sorted its legs out once more. The mare stood serenely, turning her head to be sure that Rowan was guiding her baby in the right direction. It nosed at her udder, not quite sure what was expected. Rowan expressed a few drops of milk and let the foal suck it from his fingers, and it soon caught on to the idea. Soon it was suckling happily and Cris was surprised to see how much more steadily it was standing already. He sighed softly, surprising himself further.

  “That’s… that’s wonderful, Rowan,” he whispered, “The foal’s beautiful… is it… is she black or dark bay?” It was a bit hard to see the filly’s exact colour in the soft gloom of the foaling box and the mare was blocking a lot of the light from the single lantern Rowan had hung on a high hook.