This was proving difficult for me to put into words. To people, each life mattered. I don't think the earth cared either way. The earth knew a person lived but would die, needed to die, and cared not when.
"With exceptions in only the most specific cases," I said to Dog and he turned to look at me. "Such as me. She cared that I lived, needed me to live, but it was for purely selfish reasons and nothing personal at all. She sent the wolves and you to free me." I felt a sense of humour from the earth at this thought and again I was perplexed. It seemed I would never figure her out. But I was close to the truth of it. I felt it.
Just then, the earth focused on me. I felt small and yet part of a larger whole. How odd, I thought and felt the hairs stand up on the back of my neck. My life was never going to be simple ever again. I wasn't sure if I should be happy or sad about that. After a time, her attention moved away and I released the breath I had been unknowingly holding.
* * *
I opted to avoid Laketown altogether. I came to the decision through a bizarre conversation with myself, Dog and the earth. Recent events had me trusting people less and less and the thought of entering a busy town had me on edge and worried. I was only a few days out of my capture area and Dog and I were having a lovely dinner of rabbit and mixed greens. Dog had caught the rabbit. He had been totally surprised when he had clamped the poor thing in his jaws. He had killed it clean and dropped it at his feet and stared at it looking a little pleased with himself, to be honest. I sensed it and came over and praised him for his hunting prowess. He ran around the camp for a bit in excitement and would dart in to snap at the carcass as I cleaned and trussed the rabbit. After multiple interruptions, I managed to roast it for our evening dinner. It was a big fat juicy one and the smell of the roasting rabbit had Dog drooling a puddle by the fire where he sat and watched it cook.
Dog had the first taste, for it had been his kill. I had enough to satiate me and gave Dog the rest. He crunched the whole thing up in no time and then fell asleep and dreamed of catching more if I could judge by the movement of his paws. It had been a glorious day.
The next morning, I packed up the camp and started talking to Dog. At some point in the past few days, Dog had become my companion and we talked all the time now. Only a few weeks ago I would have thought myself insane to accept it so simply. But today I had powers the earth gave me and I could heal people in miraculous ways. I think my mother would be proud of me.
"So maybe we should avoid Laketown," I started saying as I tightly rolled my bed roll.
"I mean, what's in Laketown that I truly need?" I said a second later. "I have all the food I need. Except flour and oats and stuff but I am okay. You can hunt rabbits and I can forage for greens and berries no problem. I just have to sense them, you know?" I glanced over to Dog for agreement and I was surprised to see him sitting there listening to me.
I waited but Dog said nothing and so I continued.
"Who knows who is lying in wait for me there? More of these black boots probably."
Dog continued to say nothing but he did seem to lean back and settle on his haunches. I took that as a positive sign.
"Don't get me wrong, Dog," I said while securing the bedroll to the bottom of my backpack. "I'm not trying to talk myself into not going. It just seems prudent."
Dog snorted and I looked at him in surprise and narrowed my eyes. "What?" I asked. "You don't think so? What would happen if I ran into more of those thugs? Huh? I was lucky the last time. I could easily have died if not for you and the wolves."
Dog lolled his huge tongue out of his mouth and panted at me with what I was sure was a glint of humour in his eye. The earth seemed to focus in on the conversation as well.
"What? You didn't think that was luck?" I asked and reached out with my senses to Dog. I sensed his agreement. Not luck then.
"What then if not luck?" I asked out loud as I adjusted the straps of my backpack.
I sensed from Dog a calling. He was called by something. The earth seemed amused.
"Oh great, so the earth just called you and you came, is that it?"
An image of the wolves came to me then and I could see them running across some plains with the moon high in the night sky. They had run for a couple of days nonstop. I could almost feel the fatigue in their stride as they ran to where I was tied up and their wild sense of urgency. It was a pretty specific image and I felt the Earth more closely now. Her focus always seemed so vague and distant, but not now. For whatever reason, she felt it important to make sure I understood what had happened. I looked to Dog to see him scratching some itch on his cheek.
"What's so important about me that the earth would send help?"
Dog looked at me and said nothing.
"If I was so important why didn't she stop me from being captured in the first place? Hmm? How about that?"
Dog barked and ran off after a noise in the grass.
* * *
Dog and I made great speed across the land. Dog seemed to be able to find the easiest paths for me to take and, more than once, he had come running out of the bushes or trees to conduct mock attacks on me. Invariably they were diversions to have me move down a preferred path. Once I recognised this, I spoke at length to him about it and he had strolled patiently alongside me until I was done before bolting off into the distance. I had no idea where he was finding the energy but he was making me tired just watching him.
Dog and I were now a team. I was not sure when or how it had happened but we had become inseparable. I found myself conversing with him as I would any other companion and the truly strange part was I was certain Dog understood me completely. I was scared to put it to the test and merely accepted it as I had all the other changes in my life these past few weeks. I spoke and he listened. His previous owner must have taught him well.
Jergen was only a week away and the closer I came, the more apprehensive I was becoming. It's not that I feared the town. The simple matter was I stood out in towns. And, after the attack by the two men, I feared exposure. But the lure of the manuscript drew me ever closer. And so it was with a weird conflict in my heart that I closed the distance to the city.
Dog kept ranging far ahead and then waiting patiently for me to catch up before loping off again. I would spy him leaping over a small dun after a rabbit or some such scared and witless animal. I resisted an urge to extend my senses and merely watched as Dog chased his prey. It was entertaining and oddly therapeutic.
Jergen would be a challenge for me. I had never been in a city. I was not comfortable around people and I worried about standing out and drawing attention surrounded by so many people and buildings. I thought through possible scenarios and came up with tales to explain my travel. Always I came back to what I was comfortable with: a simple man who sold and traded herbs and made potions. Perhaps that is what I should just remain, I thought. Perhaps I should gather some herbs to sell. I only had a few bunches on me and I felt I could spend time gathering more.
I spent the afternoon gathering dill, thyme and oregano, and some other herbs. This time using the sickle I found that I sensed the plants more intimately. I asked for parts of them and explained why I needed them. In response the leaves and stems would part from the plant and into my waiting hands. Soon I found I had no need for the sickle and I put it back into the small pouch that hung from my neck. With my senses I found I could locate any plant near me. My range kept growing and I had to rein myself in to keep my senses from being flooded. Soon I could think of a specific plant, locate it, approach, make my request, and pick the donated stems and leaves up from beside the plant. It excited me but I felt that I missed the old way. It had been more personal. In only an hour, I had managed to resupply most of my lost herbs. I admired the quality, it exceeded what I had been able to do in Jaipers. I made my way back to Dog and I started telling him of the herbs I had gathered when we pushed through some bushes and unexpectedly burst clear to stand blinking in the bright sunshine next to the main road leading to J
ergen.
I heard a shout of alarm near me and turned to see a couple standing protectively together. The man had placed himself between the woman and I and had his head turned toward me. Dog stood beside me and wagged his tail and gave a polite bark of welcome.
"My apologies," I said by way of introduction. "I'm sorry I startled you. I was just gathering some herbs nearby." I held up a bunch of dill for emphasis. "I'm quite safe, I assure you. My name is Will."
The woman glanced at the man before her and then nodded. He moved beside her and I could see she carried an infant slung across her chest. "Hello, young man. Pleased to meet you. You did give us a scare jumping out of the woods like that! We're with the caravan, don't you know. Well, we follow the caravan I should say. Are you heading to Jergen?"
"Aye, ma'am. I am."
"Ma'am? How old d'ye think I am, ya wee scamp?" She laughed and it sounded like bells. "Come we us, ya hear? We're just around the bend of the road. Ya looks like ya could use some company."
Over the next few days, I joined and stayed with many fellow travellers to Jergen. They had naturally just come together for mutual safety and, as we met up with others, they joined the group. The threat of highwaymen was always on everyone's mind and there was safety in numbers. We were an odd bunch of people. Just up ahead from me was a small caravan made up of two carts. They were slow moving with the weight of their cargo — iron ore, according to the owner — and allowed those of us who walked to easily keep pace with it. The owner was a proud man, sure of his business, a braggart with an overly loud voice. And yet we could all see he could only afford two mercenaries to guard his cargo and by the looks of them, they had come cheaply. The man rubbed me wrong — his avarice was almost visible for all to see and when I examined his thick yellow aura it made me feel oily and dirty. I couldn't fail to notice how Dog kept his distance from the caravan. Most of us did. I felt I should probably do the same.
Anyone could see the two guards he had hired were sallow and filthy. They had taken a long measure of me until it became almost uncomfortable. A tension filled the air and I was at a loss to explain what was happening. Dog made a commotion and the guards turned their gaze to what Dog had chosen to chase down with excessive noise. I scurried away from the men, my memory of my capture giving strength to my speed of departure. I sensed a bit of mirth from Dog and, when I looked his way, he was staring at me, tongue lolling in an unmistakably cheeky laugh. He was pleased with himself.
Since then I had remained a goodly distance behind their cart and out of sight as much as possible. I chose instead to spend my time walking with the young mother who had met me when I had emerged onto the road. She and her husband were named Rebecca and Kennit, and their new-born child was Euan. The mother had their son slung across her chest in the way of south Turgany. I enjoyed their company. They were happy and eager to the life which awaited them in Jergen. Dog liked them too and that was enough for me. Dog also seemed to want to constantly smell and lick the child, which delighted the young mother and wee Euan for some reason. We had spent the last few nights sharing a campfire. Dog had hovered close to the child the entire time and the parents had trusted Dog unconditionally and without hesitation. He had an immediate positive effect on people. He was a large dog and was not afraid to get into everyone's business, smelling this and that with abandon and sneaking in a nose lick if you weren't careful. He was an expert at getting food out of people. I had no idea how he managed to eat so much.
I, on the other hand, had found another way to gain acceptance. I had provided the mother with a tonic to settle their child's stomach the first night. They had warned me the child would cry at night and the others were in constant complaint. I knew what I needed and with my senses had found both plants nearby. The ginger root and peppermint plants had appeared as bright lights to my vision and led me to them. I mashed the leaves and roots together and boiled the mash in water. I ran it through a cloth, added what little honey I had left, and the mother spoon-fed the liquid to the bairn. The poor wee thing was awful colicky and my tonic had eased the pain. I showed the parents how I made it and gave them supplies of their own. In the end, my tonic had given the couple their first quiet, uninterrupted sleep in a long time. Afterwards, they had proclaimed me a healer and everyone befriended me.
"Yer a druid, you are," she told me quietly the second night.
"A what?" I asked.
"A druid, sure as you are," She gave me a knowing wink. "My gran was a druid. She could heal all sorts of people. As soon as you made that wee tonic for my wee bairn I knew it. You've the gift, lad. Druid could commune with nature. Heal people. Tend the plants and the like. Same as you."
I sat in silence and thought of the book and what I knew so far. A druid may be what I was. Something resonated in that with me. The image of my mum smiling at me when I was a child came unbidden and I blinked. Whatever I was, I could heal people and that was all that mattered to me.
"Yer secrets are safe with us, Will," she said and patted my knee. "Kennit knows as well. He grew up next door to my gran and me mum. By the Word, the whole village knew, I think. But nowadays — probably wise to keep it tae yourself, eh?"
I nodded. To be honest I wasn't sure I believed her. I only had a few pages torn from a manuscript that hinted at something larger. Draoi or druids, either way it lay before me. I heeded Rebecca's word of caution and pretended to be what I truly longed to be: a healer. I then spent most of my time gathering herbs and such and showing people how to mix remedies and how to care for a wound by first cleaning it and then wrapping it in clean cloths. Simple things that most seemed not to know.
By good fortune I found out Kennit was a cook by trade and he was hoping for work in Jergen. Over the course of the nights and days, he and I shared our recipes and talked about herbs and spices at length. He was amazed at my knowledge and he gained much from our talks. He and I shared the chore of cooking for everyone and it was a constant point of discussion for our group as we strolled toward Jergen. Meals at night became a special event for everyone.
Soon our little group was joined by more road travellers until we numbered about two dozen in all. We talked, and shared tales, and laughed at some jest or another. It was a relaxing time and I enjoyed the company. I grew more comfortable talking to people and joined in the laughter when I could understand the jape. I tended to people's hurts and scrapes and used my powers in subtle ways, usually mixing it with my unguents. I learned to simply smile when they brought up just how young I was to be able to heal so well.
Everyone marveled at Dog and how well trained he seemed to be. He quickly found out how to entice treats from the travellers and was shameless in his efforts. He was also fond of catching rabbits and game hens and he managed to bring in enough meat for all of us to enjoy. He certainly earned his stay and the treats. The guards were impressed with Dog and offered me coin for him. It took several firm no's before they finally stopped asking.
Despite keeping a social distance, the caravan crew provided a large cooking cauldron and Kennit and I filled it each night with shares of food from everyone willing to contribute. It soon became a communal meal each evening. Last evening, after we had trussed and skinned Dog's brace of rabbits, Rebecca and Kennit had trusted me with their child and they had walked off hand in hand to spend some quiet time together outside the light of the campfires. The older couples with us made some pointed comments and had everyone laughing at the couple's combined blush. It took me a little while to understand and then it had been my turn to blush. The laughter didn't stop their hurried pace to move down closer to the river's edge and out of sight.
I soon found myself with their son held awkwardly in my arms and staring down into his eyes with his rapt attention on my own. I held his gaze and felt an odd sense of kinship with the child. Dog poked his head in then and gave the boy a solid slobbering before I could push his snout away. The baby squealed in laughter and tried to grab Dog's fur. We stayed staring at each other for some time:
the child in my arms, quiet and not fussing, and Dog sitting pressed up tight against me, tongue lolling out his mouth. It was a peaceful hour. I found myself singing a quiet song that came to mind and a few of the people around the fire pushed each other and tilted their chins in our direction. They didn't think I had noticed but I had. Little happened around me now that I was not aware of. I was connected to the world around me and could extend that sense out quite a distance if I put my mind to it. I politely ignored the others and simply contented myself with keeping this perfect moment alive as long as I possibly could. I raised my voice a little and sang the song.
Wee child of life,
Let troubles fade from sight,
Beneath the starry night
Sleep safe from any strife.
From leaf to branch,
And branch to stem,
And stem to root,
Harmony, balance, life.
Wipe worries from your sight,
Safe in my arms tonight.
Bundled up warm and tight,
Until the bright of the morrow light.
From leaf to branch,
And branch to stem,
And stem to root,
Harmony, balance, life.
In the end, we were interrupted when Dog started sneezing repeatedly and I soon discovered the baby had soiled himself rather spectacularly. People came by to slap my back and compliment me on the song. None had heard it before and I was not sure from whence it came. They pointed out the obvious to me: the child had soiled himself. Not knowing what to do in the slightest I suffered the stink until the parents returned, red-cheeked and smiling. They merely laughed at my expression of horror and cleaned him up with a speed I could never hope to match, and soon we were enjoying a light meal I prepared with Dempster's special touch. Everyone pitched in an ingredient or two and were eager for their share and a taste.
Leaf and Branch (New Druids Series Vol 1 & 2) Page 42
