The dirt road bent sharply to avoid a large outcropping of rocks. I nodded to the few people who pulled handcarts along or walked with some purpose in mind. Few returned the gesture and most kept their eyes on their feet. Jergen was not a pleasant town, but at least the cliffs offered a wonderful view. I looked around at what grew here. It all looked so rugged and barren. Thin trees struggled to grow here and there on the thin soil and most of the area was filled with a scurvy grass and strange bulbous flowers I didn't recognise. With my senses, I could tell they struggled to maintain a grip on the loose soil topping the cliffs. They drew what nutrients they could despite the deluge of salt spray. Life always found a way, it seemed. Only tough plants could survive here. The people of Jergen were probably much the same way. I could hear the surf pounding a dozen or so yards down below with deep muffled thuds that I could feel through the soles of my feet. I would feel a light spray against my cheek soon afterwards, and found it refreshing in the heat of the day.
Soon the buildings and people all but disappeared and I spotted a lone house off to my right, standing bright in the sunlight. The house beckoned to me and I felt a pull toward it. Here was the sole bright spot in Jergen. It was one story with white-washed walls and a high roof covered with red clay tiles. The yard was surrounded by a fence made from long pieces of driftwood attached to driftwood poles buried at even intervals. The soil around the yard was thick and bountiful and full of nutrients. Fruit trees were precisely placed in four neat rows and helped obscure the house from the approach. The trees were heavy with fruit, early for this time of year, and the branches struggled to hold up the ripe apples, peaches, lemons, and oranges. All around the trees I could see neat rows of well-tended vegetable gardens bursting with vibrant colours. Flower gardens grew here and there and all-in-all the house was breath-takingly beautiful. Dog had already surged ahead and leaped across the fence to run from tree to tree, nose firm to the ground, and he looked up at me, mouth open and tongue panting in a clear laugh. I felt the same excitement he felt now.
I sensed joy the closer I approached the house and my heart lifted. Since I had entered Jergen I had felt disconnected, but here — here at this wonderful house — I sensed only peace and quiet. Dog was at the door pawing at the wood, and barking up a storm. He leaped in the air and turned and twisted and snapped at his tail. I was still a good distance away when the door opened and I saw the hunched over figure of a woman standing in the light, one hand on the doorknob and the other on the doorframe. She stood a bit straighter and stared at Dog. She had greyed hair and wore a shawl despite the heat of the day. Her clothes were well tended and loose fitting but I could see the slender build underneath. The skin of her face was as weathered as the driftwood. This was a woman who had lived a very long and tough life.
As I strolled up, she raised her eyes toward me and beamed a smile reaching from ear to ear and lighting up her eyes. It changed her entire face and I smiled in return. I had no idea who she was but somehow I knew she and I were kin, I just didn't know how I knew. Tears started to stream down her face and I felt the same wet tracks from my own eyes. Dog barked and ran from her to me as I walked up hands outstretched. She let go of the door frame and grasped mine. The shock of the connection went through me like a thunderbolt. We stood there staring at one another for a long, long time.
"Come," she said and patted my hands. "Come inside. I never thought I would live to see the day."
* * *
I entered her home and felt it welcome me. The floor was earth; moss grew in the corners and lichens covered the walls. Everywhere on the rafters herbs were hung, expertly bundled up and drying. The air was thick with their smell, sweet and fragrant, and I breathed in deeply, memories of working in Daukyns small room returning. I looked around to get my bearings as she pulled me to the centre of the house. Her home was simple and all on one level and open from corner to corner. Four thick support beams held up the roof and from every conceivable surface, and from all the rafters, hung drying fruit rings and herbs. Crafted art pieces, such as needlepoint and crocheted things, hung from the walls.
I spied her bed in the far corner — a simple mattress stuffed with straw and placed on a wooden frame. Beside the bed stood a tall pedestal with a washbasin and ewer. It was positioned beneath a large round window looking out over the sea. The kitchen area boasted a potbelly stove with wood stacked neatly beside it. Beside were two raised cupboards and a long counter covered with vegetables, fresh from her garden. Near the stove was a workstation made from a thick slab of oak, stained deep with green and browns, and worn smooth from years of herb work. A woven basket was perched to one side filled with apples and oranges. A high eating table with two tall chairs was placed nearby and covered with a linen tablecloth. A small vase with a solitary flower sat at its centre. This was a home I could love. I felt the earth through the dirt floor and drank the peace and serenity like water to a man dying of thirst. My vision swam with my own tears and I struggled to remain standing.
I could not remember ever experiencing this wonderful feeling of being home. But here I was: at home. After all those years in the wild living on my own with the often-unbearable closeness of Jaipers and the constant need to escape to the woods. Not so here. Here, I was where I belonged. I stood in the middle of the house and slowly turned and smiled so hard my face felt close to tearing. Dog was darting around the house sniffing everything and running back to me for approval before bounding away again to smell out something new. I turned to the old woman and she was staring at me with a smile mirroring my own. She crossed to her kitchen counter and filled two wooden cups with water from a well-water reservoir placed next to the counter. When I saw she meant to bring me one I rushed over to help her. I could sense her joints pained her greatly.
As I took one cup from her she turned and raised her cup to me, which I touched with my own.
"Cheers, young man," she said. "To Health and Harmony."
The toast rang a bell of remembrance in my mind and I knew there was a reply — but I could not remember it. I strained to remember but it eluded my grasp.
She looked a little disappointed but she smiled and sipped her water. I did likewise.
"You are supposed to reply 'And to Gaea, our Earth Mother.'"
I nodded and spoke the words softly and the memory returned. My mother used to tease me when I failed to get it right. For a moment, I saw her face again and I tried to hold the image but it faded just as quick as it had appeared and, already, I couldn't remember how she had looked. I hated those moments. It teased me and taunted me. I hadn't heard the name Gaea in a long time and for the first time, I wondered if the earth presence I had been feeling was Gaea.
"So, tell me," she said. "Are there any more draoi besides you?"
"Pardon?"
"How many more of you are there? The Draoi. The Druids."
"The Draoi?" I said not meaning to make it sound like a question. "I wouldn't know. I'm not a draoi. Someone else mistook me for that on the way into Jergen. I'm just a simple man with a gift for herbs and the like."
"Young man. You are most definitely a draoi. A Duilleog or maybe a Craobh."
"A dew log or crab?"
She surprised me by smacking me on the arm. "No, a dew-lee-ogg or a cray-oh'b." She replied enunciating each syllable.
"I'm sorry," I admitted shaking my head and rubbing my arm. "I have no idea what you are talking about. Except the name you used earlier — Gaea. I've heard of her."
Nadine looked at me a little strangely and then she leaned quickly forward and her eyes went a little wild and wide. Almost as if she remembers me, I thought.
"Who are you? Tell me. Your name."
She reached out to me with both hands. They were shaking. I wet my lips and said my name. "Will."
"Will? No!" she shook her head and clasped my arm with both hands. "Will? It cannot be. Your last name, quick, what is it?"
"Arbor. I'm Will Arbor."
She fainted. I didn't even ha
ve a chance to catch her and she hit the ground with a thump. Dog gave a little whine and looked up at me.
* * *
I lifted and carried her over to her bed and laid her down. She couldn't weigh more than ninety pounds. She was such a slim and frail woman. I found a cloth and soaked it in the washbasin and laid it on her brow. I sat on the ground next to her and held her hand. I had a sense of knowing this woman. Something about her seemed familiar to me. Her face was aged and heavily wrinkled but beyond the lines I could see she was once beautiful and perhaps a face I once knew.
I could sense she was not unwell, just a sudden loss of blood to her head had left her light-headed. I reached out to her and examined her health. It was such an easy task for me now. Something had frightened her and constricted her blood flow. I could see that flow returning to normal and looked elsewhere in her body for harm. Immediately I could see she suffered what any woman of her advanced age would suffer. Her heart was weak, straining to continue to pump, worn after so many years. There was little I could do for her except administer some herbs to thin her blood a little and make the task easier. Her joints were swollen and I could see the wear and tear of her years. I shifted back and held her hand for a moment. Dog came over beside me and laid his head on her stomach and looked up at her face. After a bit, she slowly regained her senses and blinked her eyes open, and looked around in a moment of confusion. She locked eyes with mine and then opened them wide and raised a hand to cover her mouth.
"Will Arbor?"
"Yes, ma'am. You must be Nadine."
"Yes, I'm Nadine, but, you can't be Will Arbor. You and your mother were killed ten years ago."
My heart skipped a beat. This woman knew my mother? I froze in place. I felt Dog push up against me and lick my neck. I could only stare at this old woman. I was suddenly afraid.
"You were both killed escaping Munsten after your father found a way out for you. We felt her passing!"
I had no response but the mention of my father had my anger returning.
"My father abandoned us. Left us to die."
The woman flinched at my tone but she shook her head.
"No, no," she said. "That's not true. He would never. He didn't."
I could see that she meant to say more but we grew silent, both lost in our thoughts. I rose to make tea to distract me from the returning dark memories of the night my father left my mother and I. I retrieved my backpack where it lay by the door and placed it on her worktable. I carefully took out some bundles of my herbs in order to reach the tin containing my dried tea leaves. I found a large water container in the corner and filled the kettle perched on her stove. I blew life back into the stove embers and placed a few pieces of kindling inside, enough to heat the water up without overheating the house. I sensed the woman rise off her bed and make her way over to my backpack. I heard her rustling through it and wondered at her audacity to rummage through another man's belongings. I had nothing to hide from her and, oddly enough, it amused me.
At her gasp, I turned to see what was the matter. She was holding one of my bundles of herbs in her hand and looking from it to me.
"What?" I asked.
"Do you process these?"
"Yes, ma'am."
With a growl, she swatted a hand at me through the air. "Stop calling me ma'am. It's Nadine. You couldn't have done this. You're eighteen. A young man."
I blinked in surprise. "Eighteen? No, I'm sixteen. I was six when my mother died."
Nadine looked at me like I was daft. "No, you are eighteen. You were born on Ostara Day, Marta nineteen, 882 A.C. I was there, I should know. It was a very auspicious day when a future draoi is born on Ostara Day."
"I thought I was sixteen. I lost mum when I was six."
"You were eight. A precocious eight. Smarter than you had any right to be."
"Why'd I think I was six?"
"How should I know? You had a friend in the castle. A boy of one of your father's friends. He was six. Must be you mixed it up."
"How can you be sure? I don't feel older."
"I told you! I helped raise you in Munsten. Wait till you're my age before you start complaining about feeling old..."
I believed her. Suddenly I did feel older. My whole life was changing too fast for me to keep up. Suddenly I didn't want to talk about my childhood. I pointed at the herbs in her hand. "So, yes, I harvested those. I'm pretty sure of that, at least."
Nadine blinked at the change in subject and then looked at the herbs and shook them. "No one ever trained you? No other draoi, correct?"
"Trained me in what? Herbs? No. I kind of picked it up on my own. But my friend in Jaipers, Daukyns, a Wordsmith," I swallowed the lump forming in my throat. "Daukyns taught me somewhat. He knew a lot about herbs. We made unguents for the people there."
"Daukyns taught you how to draw the herbs from the plants?"
"What? No, of course not. I taught myself. Daukyns only taught me some uses..." I stopped when I saw her clutching the bundle in her hands to her chest with one hand while grabbing the table for support. I worried she would collapse again and I moved closer.
"What, Nadine? What's the matter?"
"You can't have taught yourself to this level. That's impossible!"
Dog barked at this and the woman glanced at him.
"Will, this quality of herbs. The quality of them. That takes a senior draoi! Not a Duilleog! Oh, dear Gaea!"
"What's a Duilleog?"
"What's a Duilleog?" she repeated with her eyebrows raised. She staggered to a chair at her eating table. I joined her and sat down across from her.
"Where to begin? Oh dear, I'm too old for this. Hush, let me think."
I waited in silence but she seemed lost in thought. I rose at the whistle from the kettle and removed it from the heat and placed it on the table. I brought over my tin of tea and added a generous amount. I searched her cupboards and found a couple of aged porcelain mugs and placed them on the table next to the kettle. Nadine had opened my tea tin and was smelling the contents. She raised a questioning eyebrow at me and I furrowed mine in response. She was awful snoopy.
"You harvested the leaves and stems?" she asked.
"Aye, last fall. I dried quite a lot. The cook in Jaipers, my friend Dempster, he keeps it safe for me and I refill the tin when I pass through."
She nodded and slowly closed her eyes and leaned back.
I poured the tea and waited, poised at the edge of my seat. All these years I had a gift. Now it appeared I was one of these draoi and I had to know more.
The smell of the tea opened her eyes and with a shaking hand, she grabbed her cup and then, realising she still held the bundle of my herbs in her lap, she placed them on the table and stared at them.
"Alright. The draoi. You were too young when it all fell apart and so you don't remember. No one could expect you to. How could they? Where to begin, hmm? How to start? By the Word, I was never a teacher. I never had to do any of this. I'm too old, too old! Gaea help me!"
The name seemed familiar to me and I asked. "Gaea? Who's that?"
Nadine put her hand over her heart. "Oh, dear Gaea, give me strength. Who's Gaea? Young man, Gaea is the earth. Some call her Mother Earth. She is the life of our world. The draoi toil for her. We pledged eons ago to help her maintain the balance of nature which man disrupted. That is our task. Oh dear, oh dear. Why now at my age?"
I listened to this revelation in silence. Whatever was going on with her, I could see she had to work it through. I looked over at Dog and could see him staring at Nadine with amusement. I rose and pulled out a bone I had purchased as I passed through town and tossed it over to him. He caught it mid-air and lay down and worried it with his back teeth, drool flowing freely onto the floor.
Pig, I thought.
Dog snorted.
"Okay, okay. I'll start simple," announced Nadine and I turned my attention to her.
"Alright. The draoi. I'll start there. Gaea created the draoi. To maintain the balance,
you know. But that's not important. At least not right now. The draoi have rank. Rank we take from the parts of the tree. Leaf, branch, trunk and root. Root being the most important."
I nodded. All plants and trees were the roots. The stuff above ground was just what it sent up to feed on the sun. Plants were one with the earth. They drank from it and pulled sustenance from it and when they died they returned their strength back to the earth. It was perfect and beautiful and I always knew it as Truth. Dog snorted and I gave him a look.
"You do see it don't you, Will?" she said with enough wonder in her voice to draw my eyes back to her. "For young draoi, even older ones, they don't accept the concept. Gaea knows it took me a long, long time. Anyway, all draoi start as a Duilleog. It means leaf. Then once you master being an apprentice you are promoted to Craobh. It means branch. You are a journeyman and you are paired with a full draoi, or a Stoc. Stoc means trunk. All fully trained draoi are Stocs."
She grabbed the bundle of my herbs off the table and held it up between us and shook it for emphasis.
"Only a Stoc can produce something of this quality. Tell me," she demanded. "When did you harvest this?"
I scratched my head and thought back.
"Six maybe seven weeks ago," I said. "Maybe a bit longer. I think it was before I was injured. It was the only bundle to survive my journey." I wasn't ready to talk about my capture.
"Six or seven weeks ago!" she cried and grabbed her chest with her free hand. "That's not possible! Oh dear, oh dear! Gaea, help me!"
Dog burped rather loudly and licked his lips. I was starting to get annoyed. I didn't think Gaea would help her with this and I just wished she would get it out and tell me.
"Will, that's not possible. When I was in Munsten, I was paired with a Stoc of some exceptional ability in herb craft. It was why I was with her. My craft...my craft was not very good, you see. The Freamhaigh hoped my assigned Stoc could improve my skill. She tried, Gaea knows she tried! But that doesn't matter. What matters is she was the best of us. Well, next to your mother that is!"
Leaf and Branch (New Druids Series Vol 1 & 2) Page 45
