The Mountains Rise

by Michael G. Manning

  Kate’s mother drew him close, into a crushing hug. She squeezed him until it was almost painful, but he was more embarrassed than hurt. “Be careful, Danny. Kate, you’ll go with him, won’t you?”

  “Of course, Momma,” said her daughter in a tone that conveyed a sense of exasperation that her mother had even felt the need to ask such a question.

  She stayed with him while he checked on the sheep and most of the way back to his home, only letting him convince her to go back when his house was in sight.

  “Thank you, Daniel,” she said once again.

  “For what? They beat the crap out of me.”

  “You didn’t have to come down the hill,” she reminded him, and then she ducked forward, leaving a kiss on his cheek before he realized what she was doing. She turned and ran back the way they had come before he could say anything else.

  Daniel watched her run, unsure how to react. Lifting one hand, he touched his cheek. Had he imagined it? Shaking his head, he faced back towards his home, bracing himself for the questions and concern that were bound to follow once his parents got a look at him.

  Chapter 2

  “You said you were going to tell me about Tyrion,” noted Lynarralla clinically.

  “Yes, I did,” I said stretching. I had been sitting at the table for far too long. “But to understand him, you need to hear about Daniel first.”

  “Why?” asked Lynarralla. My own children nodded in agreement.

  I stood and loosened my shoulders. “Let’s move into the other room and get comfortable. This story is going to take a while.”

  “Just tell us why you’re talking about this ‘Daniel’ person, Father,” said my daughter Moira.

  “Don’t be so impatient,” I told her, easing into my favorite rocker by the fireplace in our den. “If I jump straight to Tyrion and all the great events of his day, none of it will make sense. You’d think he was simply a butcher.”

  “Does it really matter what we think of him?” wondered Matthew. “He’s been a tree for over two-thousand years. We just want to know why.”

  “It matters to me,” I replied. “Plus, I don’t really understand all of it myself. I’ve never gone through everything that happened to him, so I just jump in where the memories begin and let them lead me along.”

  “Why do the memories start with someone else?” asked my son insistently.

  “That part will become clear later on,” I told him. “Now back to where we left off. Actually, we can skip forward a bit. Daniel’s father was a man named Alan Tennick, and he and his wife, Helen, were both pretty upset when they saw the state their son was in when he returned that day. Alan went into the town and spoke with all three of the other boys’ fathers. Each of them promised that they would talk to their sons, but none of them really did anything.

  “Alan knew they wouldn’t do much more than that, so he spent some of his own time teaching Daniel to fight better. His son was still small at age thirteen, in fact he was still shorter than Catherine Sayer, but he was growing, and Alan Tennick was a big man. He had every expectation that his son would possess a hefty frame when he was fully grown. So, he set up a heavy sack of old grain, tying it to the rafters in their barn, and began teaching his son how to deliver a solid punch.

  “Over the course of the next year, Daniel got a lot taller, finally passing Catherine in height. He began to fill out, as young men generally do, and he became even more aware of other changes in himself. Specifically regarding his opinions on women, particularly Catherine…”

  ***

  Daniel’s hands ran smoothly across the strings of his cittern, evoking a simple melody as he watched the sheep graze. He had learned to play from his mother, but she hadn’t trusted him to carry the prized instrument out of the house until after he had turned fourteen.

  It was built much like a mandolin, but it had ten strings and a flatter body. He only took it with him on days when the weather was good, as the instrument was worth too much to risk outdoors otherwise. Anytime the weather threatened to turn, he took it home immediately.

  On good days, though, he enjoyed playing. Being alone on the hill all day with little to do most of the time, it was his entertainment and his friend. His mother had only taught him a few songs, so he improvised new ones, plucking them from the empty air and his imagination, one note at a time, until he had crafted his own tunes. The sheep seemed to appreciate his efforts; at least they never strayed far when he was playing.

  In fact, these days Blue had even less work to do. The sheep had learned to mark Daniel’s location from the sound of his music, and when he had the instrument with him, they always returned to where he was, saving both the boy and his dog a lot of searching.

  Today was a particularly good day. It was early summer and the weather was warm. The sky was empty of clouds, and the sun’s bright rays assured him that there would be no rain. Daniel played a light melody with no name, one he had constructed over the course of many endless summer days. He had no words for it, but when he played it, he thought of the sun lighting on the deep orange of Catherine’s hair.

  He hadn’t had the opportunity to see her in several weeks, but he always looked forward to their occasional meetings. Once in a while his mother would send him to the Sayer house to deliver wool or sometimes gifts of vegetables. The farmers who lived in the valley were a close-knit community, and while they were often separated by miles, they shared their surpluses with one another.

  Daniel’s parents were especially careful to send extras to Brenda Sayer, since her husband was gone. The widow supported herself and her daughter by carding wool and spinning it into yarn. With so many sheep herders in the valley it was a valuable skill. They sold the bulk of their shearing every year, but some locals, like Brenda, bought a small portion and turned it into yarn and wool to make their living.

  A flash of auburn flame warned Daniel that he was no longer alone, but he hid his surprise and kept playing. Kate was approaching, working her way carefully up the gentle incline, while stepping in time to his rhythm.

  It took her several minutes to reach him, but he didn’t stop playing when she arrived, instead he kept going, only his smile giving away that he was aware of her presence. She stood in front of him for a minute, waiting for him to pause, but when that failed, she set her basket on the ground and began a jig.

  Her movements were graceful, but as each minute passed and he failed to pay heed to her presence, the motions became more exaggerated. In response, he began gradually increasing his tempo, until her dancing became ragged and unpredictable.

  Blue watched curiously, unsure what the two-legs were doing but infected by their enthusiasm. He began circling them, wagging his tail and giving short barks.

  Eventually Kate tripped and Daniel stopped, the two of them laughing. “What are you doing up here, Cat?” he asked her, using one of the old nicknames he had given her when they were children.

  “I came to see you,” she replied, as if that were the most reasonable answer in the world.

  Daniel liked the sound of that, although he still didn’t understand her motivations. “What’s in the basket?”

  “Cheese, bread, pickled eggs and a jar of the finest river water,” she answered, ending her statement with a dramatic flourish.

  “You didn’t have to bring me food,” he told her, confused. “Mother packed me a lunch.” He pointed at the small bundle he had left home with that morning.

  “Did I bring you food yesterday?” she asked, giving him a smile that one might bestow upon a particularly slow child.

  “Well, no…”

  “The day before?” she continued.

  He shook his head. This was the first time she had ever paid him a visit while he was watching the flock.

  “Then I doubt your mother knew to pack enough in there for the two of us,” she concluded.

  Daniel studied her carefully, but she remained a complete mystery to him. “You want to eat up here, with me?” he said finall
y. “Don’t you have chores? Your mom will be hunting for you before long.”

  “Mother went to town today, and I already finished what needed doing. Besides, at our age, sometimes there are more important things to take care of…”

  That made no sense to him. If there were any tasks that were more important than the ones he was already taking care of, his father would have told him. That’s why they were ‘chores’, because you had to do them. He voiced his question with his usual eloquence, “Important things?”

  “Seth stopped by the house to say hello yesterday,” she informed him, seeming to change the subject.

  Seth was his one, and only, other friend. He had known him almost as long as Kate, since his farm was just a few miles from theirs. A strange pang of jealousy ran through him when she told him that the other boy had come to see her. He hadn’t visited Daniel, and it had been over half a year since they had had a chance to catch up. “Oh really?” he said, suppressing the faint resentment her pronouncement had created. “Did he have any news?”

  She looked at him with wide eyes, studying his expressions as he responded. After a moment she sighed mysteriously and then looked at her basket, “Are you hungry?”

  Actually he was, but he usually waited until slightly later in the day before he ate. Otherwise his appetite was apt to return before he got back home. Something told him that he should keep his answer simple, “Sure.”

  “The song you were playing was beautiful, but I don’t think I’ve ever heard it before,” she noted once they had gotten past the first mouthfuls of bread and cheese. “Did your mother teach you that one?”

  “I just made it up,” he told her honestly. “It got boring playing the same songs over and over.”

  “You do play a lot,” she agreed. “I hear you sometimes, when I’m out in the garden. Not every day, but almost every day.”

  “There isn’t much else to do up here, except when something goes wrong,” said Daniel.

  “I really enjoy it,” she confessed. “Sometimes I pretend you’re playing for me, sending me a secret message hidden in the melody.”

  Her words sent a sudden warmth through him, and he knew his face must be turning red. He looked toward the ground, letting his hair hide his features while he picked at a long piece of grass. Daniel had often wondered if they could hear his music from the Sayer house, and Kate’s words were close to the truth. “M-maybe I was,” he admitted, suddenly unsure of himself.

  Kate’s green eyes focused on his, and for a moment the world froze. Daniel’s mind was blank, and he felt as though he was falling. He watched her face intently as her lips moved and the faint dusting of freckles across her nose shifted with her smile. After a moment her smile changed to a frown, and he became aware that she had been talking. “I’m sorry,” he told her. “I think I’m addled. What did you say?”

  Her expression was one of mild exasperation, but the crinkle around her eyes made it seem as if she was still smiling at him; perhaps she was—he hoped so. “I asked what message you were sending to me, with your music.”

  She was leaning slightly closer now, and Daniel seemed to be having trouble catching his breath. His mind raced as he tried to find an appropriate response. Glancing down, his gaze lit upon the jar of pickled eggs she had brought. On impulse he plucked one from the jar and popped it into his mouth before smiling at her with a mouthful of egg. “The message was, ‘Bring me some of those delicious pickled eggs!’” he blurted out.

  Kate’s face went through a variety of expressions, from disbelief, to anger, before finally settling on amusement. She laughed and then knocked the arm he had been leaning on out from under him. “You say the dumbest things sometimes, Daniel Tennick,” she stated matter-of-factly. “If that’s all your message was, I don’t know if I should have brought you those eggs.” Her tone was teasing, but Daniel could detect a more serious undercurrent to it.

  “Why did Seth come to visit you?” he asked suddenly.

  Her body language changed, and something told him that he’d finally asked a more sensible question. “He was wondering whether I would be going to the Harvest Festival this year,” she replied.

  That was a stupid question for Seth to ask. He should have known she’d be there, everyone was there. Nobody missed the biggest social event of the year. “That should have been obvious,” said Daniel.

  She muttered something under her breath. It sounded as if she had said, “You’re one to talk,” but her voice was pitched too low for him to hear clearly.

  “What?”

  A fire lit in her eyes, “He was asking if I had an escort to the dance.”

  “Oh,” said Daniel, somewhat shocked.

  He shouldn’t have been. They were getting to the age where some of their peers were starting to take such things seriously. Hell, some of them got married as early as sixteen. He was already pretty sure that Seth had a thing for Kate. Still, he had somehow hoped that things wouldn’t progress so soon. Secretly he had always hoped…

  Getting beaten half to death in front of her last year probably didn’t help.

  “Hey!” She snapped her fingers to get his attention, “Is that your only comment?”

  “Well, Seth’s a good fellow. If you want to go to the dance with him, I can’t complain. He’s my best friend after all,” answered Daniel in a rush.

  Kate growled in exasperation, “I told him I couldn’t go with him.”

  “Why?” said Daniel, puzzled.

  “I told him I had already been asked to the dance,” she explained, staring hard at him.

  “Really?!” He couldn’t imagine who might have asked. There were probably a number who might want to ask her, but Daniel didn’t think she would have chosen any of them over Seth.

  She glared at him helplessly, “No, Daniel, no one else asked me. I lied. Are you that dense, or are you just trying to be a jerk?”

  He gave her his best vacant stare while she began packing up her basket. He could tell she was angry, but his mind was too busy processing the past few minutes of their conversation for him to speak. His brow furrowed, and his thoughts were awhirl as she stood to leave. She gave him one last look before turning away.

  She looks like she’s about to cry.

  Finally his emotions overruled his mind which was stuck trying to figure out things it really wasn’t well equipped to handle. Jumping up he called out to her, “Wait! Kate, w-would you like to accompany me?”

  She stopped in her tracks.

  “T-to the dance, I mean,” he clarified.

  She had pulled her blue scarf out of her hair and rubbed her face with it before she faced him again. Her wild red hair kicked up in the wind without the scarf to hold it in place. Green eyes flashed at him as she answered, “I think I would like that very much.”

  His heart was pounding, and his mouth had gone dry. She stood there for a minute before he eventually found a reply, “Thank you.” He got the feeling he had missed an opportunity.

  She smiled and resumed her trip down the hillside, “Play me a song while I walk, Daniel Tennick.”

  “I’ll play you to your door,” he called back, scrambling to recover his cittern from the grass. He strummed a friendly tune while she walked away, and he kept playing long after he lost sight of her in the heavy brush and small trees near the river. He continued until after she emerged on the other side, climbing the hill toward her house. He played until he was far past certain that she had already reached home.

  Chapter 3

  Helen Tennick watched her son as he came in the house that evening. Normally the first thing he did was to bother her in the kitchen, hungry and curious as to what she had been cooking. Daniel and his father were much alike in that regard, always looking for food. Today was different, though; Daniel gave her a simple greeting and drifted by, holding the cittern idly in his hands. He seemed distracted, but there was a smile on his face.

  “Go put that away before you come to the table, boy,” remonstrated his fathe
r as Daniel started to sit down.

  “Whups! Sorry, Dad,” replied the younger Tennick, taking the instrument to the hook where it usually hung on the wall.

  “Did something happen today, Daniel?” asked Helen as she ladled soup into three wooden bowls.

  Daniel flashed a brilliant smile at her before sitting down energetically, “Maybe.”

  “And…?” she asked.

  His father was curious as well now, but he kept his silence.

  “It isn’t really anything too exciting,” hinted Daniel in obvious contradiction to his barely suppressed enthusiasm.

  “Just spit it out!” growled his father.

  “I saw Cat today.”

  His mother frowned, “Her name is Catherine, and it’s a waste not to use such a pretty name.” Helen had always been fond of Catherine Sayer.

  “She prefers Kate,” said Daniel.

  “So instead you call her ‘Cat’?” observed Helen.

  Daniel couldn’t see any way forward from that, so he went ahead with his news, “I asked her to the Harvest Dance.”

  Alan Tennick’s bushy eyebrows seemed to rise several inches above his eyes, and he glanced at his wife, wondering if he had misheard. Helen patted him on the arm to reassure him.

  “That’s wonderful news Daniel!” she told her son.

  “I didn’t think your balls had dropped yet, boy!” crowed his father. “Guess I was wrong about that!”

  Daniel turned red, and his mother turned on Alan. “Really? You couldn’t wait five minutes before saying something crude?”

  Daniel’s father smiled broadly, “If he’s courting a girl, then he’s old enough to handle rough humor.”

  Helen shook her head at him, but Daniel could sense his mother’s hidden amusement. They talked a bit more, and after dinner she surprised him by taking the cittern back down and handing it to his father.