Beanna considered him for a long moment. “Many two-legs make the mistake of believing they are the only thinking creatures in the world. Remember, that everywhere you go, in the forest and beyond, your movements and actions are being noticed.”
Gai bowed his head. “I will remember.”
Beanna fluttered over to face Una and Niall. Niall was able to communicate with her, but Una could not. Lastly, Beanna hopped onto Diarmit’s knee.
“Have you heard anything we have been saying?”
Diarmit blinked as he looked down at her.
“This one has a head of stone,” she said.
“But a heart that is true,” Caymin replied. Her brow creased as she noticed that Diarmit’s cheeks flushed though his expression remained blank.
Beanna flew back to Caymin’s shoulder. “Not badly done for their first time.”
“Thank you, Beanna. May we call upon you another day?”
The crow gently tugged on Caymin’s ear. “You may.” She turned to Enat as the others chatted amongst themselves. “One thing more. When I flew beyond the forest, I heard whispers of invaders approaching from the open water to the west. Beware.” With a loud caw, she flapped her great black wings and took to the air.
Enat frowned for a moment and then returned her attention to the circle.
“I’d say that was well-done,” she said. “More of you could speak with Beanna than I expected. ’Tis a rare gift and not one to be swept aside lightly. Much can be learned from non-humans if we but take the time to listen.”
Enat, Ivar and Neela spent the next two days huddled with Timmin in the meetinghouse, leaving the apprentices on their own.
“What do you think they’re talking about?” Una wondered.
They listlessly practiced archery and sparring but, with their attention diverted, the practice was haphazard at best.
Caymin wasn’t certain if any of them had caught Beanna’s parting warning and, as Enat had said nothing aloud about it, she had thought it best not to say anything, either. Nevertheless, she felt certain the elders were discussing the reported invasion.
Sure enough, when Neela emerged from the meetinghouse late on the second day, she called the apprentices to them. They filed inside to find the other elders seated around the table with the large map laid out in the center. The apprentices sat on either side of the table.
“We’ve learned,” said Ivar, “that there may be invaders coming to our island from here.” He pointed to the west side of the map, where the land was indented in several places. “These bays make easy landing places from the sea, and this is most likely where they’re coming ashore if the reports are true.”
He pointed next to the upper middle of the island, near a long, narrow lake. “Our forest sits on the boundary between Uladh and Connacht. The power of our forest should protect it, but as we’ve told you, if the invaders travel with their own mages, then they may breach the magical protections that are in place here.”
Ronan looked up. “How can we help?”
“We want you to go in pairs,” Neela said, pointing to a different map, one that showed the forest in greater detail. “Ronan, you and Caymin will go here. Stay for two or three days, find a vantage point that will allow you to see any smoke. If they’ve come, they’ll likely be burning villages as they move. Remember, all of you, you cannot leave the forest or you will not be able to re-enter. The birds and other animals can cross the boundary. Ask them to help you. Ask if they’ve seen anything.”
She assigned the other apprentices two by two, older and younger together, distributing them along the western boundary of the forest.
“You’ll leave as soon as you’re packed. Bring enough food for three days; take steel and flint,” Enat told them. “If you see anything, ask a bird to fly to us and give us the news. We’ll come to you.”
“Take weapons as well,” Ivar said.
Enat opened her mouth to protest, but Timmin spoke for the first time, saying, “It’s what they’ve been training for, Enat. The forest is theirs to protect as much as ours.”
They all left the meetinghouse.
“I’m going to get a spear,” Ronan said to Caymin. “Do you want me to get a bow for you as well?”
She nodded. “I will gather food and fire starters. Get a cloak to sleep on and meet me back here.”
Enat accompanied her to the cottage and helped to pack a basket of food along with fire starters and some tinder. “I know you can start a fire now without these, but save your energy. You may need it for other things.”
Caymin rolled up an old cloak and stuffed it into the basket. Enat took her by the shoulders.
“Remember all you’ve learned, but don’t forget who you are.”
Caymin frowned at those words.
By the time she returned to the village with a basket slung over her shoulders, Ronan was ready with a bow and a quiver of arrows for her, a spear for himself, and a cloak rolled and slung across his chest. He had a bulging water skin tied to his belt, and she noticed a small roll of parchment tucked into his belt.
“A small map,” he said. “In case we need to send word back to the elders.” He pointed to the basket. “I can take that.”
“Later,” Caymin said, hoisting the straps higher on her shoulders. “I will take it for now.”
He looked at her as if to argue, but she turned so he could strap her bow and quiver to the basket.
When he was done, they set out, going in a direction Caymin had never been. Ronan, she thought, looked like a warrior, tall and agile, carrying his weapon off to meet a potential enemy. She limped along beside him.
They walked well past sunset as a bright moon rose in the sky to light the way. Caymin grew tired but didn’t want to complain or ask to stop.
“Enough,” Ronan said at last. “I don’t know if you’re tired, but I am. We need to stop for the night.”
Caymin dropped the basket and slumped to the ground, rubbing her shoulders.
“Were you just going to keep on?” Ronan asked, reaching into the basket and grabbing a couple of oatcakes. He stuffed one into his mouth, holding the other out to Caymin.
“I do not want to hold you back,” Caymin said, accepting the oatcake gratefully.
Ronan laughed. “I can barely keep up with you. You’ve nothing to prove to me. Tell me when you need to rest. Chances are, I do, too.”
He eyed her as she ate. “You don’t say much, do you?”
Caymin shrugged. “I had nothing to say.” She glanced at him now, the moonlight gilding his head. “Do you want a fire?”
“Aye. I think a fire tonight, for we’ll not be able to light one when we get to the forest’s boundary tomorrow. You light some tinder and I’ll gather wood.”
Soon, they sat beside a cheerful fire. She felt the presence of many animals around them. Probing with her mind, she asked them if they had seen any sign of invaders, but they all replied they hadn’t. She returned her attention to the fire and Ronan.
“How old are you?” Caymin asked.
“I have sixteen winters. I’ve been here since I was your age.” He looked around. “I should be finishing my studies here soon, going back to my family. But this forest has become home. I don’t really know my family any longer. I expect my brothers and sister have all made matches by now.” He frowned as he snapped a branch in half. “It won’t be the same.”
Caymin had never considered that the others would return to homes and families much changed in the time they were studying here in the forest. She, who had no human family to return to, could go anywhere she liked when she finished here. As they bedded down for the night, she wondered for the first time where she would go and what she would do.
“This is as far as we go.”
Ronan set the basket of food down as they stopped. Caymin felt a subtle shift in the energy of the forest, though it looked as if it went on and on.
“This is our boundary,” Ronan said, looking down at her.
“But we cannot see anything.”
He pointed. “We can up there.”
They spread out, climbing trees that gave them glimpses of the world beyond the forest. Caymin, being smaller and more agile, climbed higher into the canopy of her tree than Ronan could. She felt as if she were atop the world, looking down on a sea of leafy trees that gradually thinned, interspersed with bits of cleared land in the distance. She saw tiny people in the fields, and small clusters of dwellings, thin plumes of smoke rising from them, but no large fires or smoke, nothing that looked to be disturbed.
She spoke to the birds who shared her lofty vantage point, asking them if they had seen anything in their travels beyond the forest, but they had not.
She stayed there until her bum began to go numb sitting on a branch. Restlessly, she looked toward Ronan’s tree, though she couldn’t see him. To her relief, she heard him call her and began the long climb down.
They met on the forest floor and broke out some dried venison and cheese.
“Nothing,” he said, passing her the water skin. “We’ll rest a bit and climb back up later. If they’re coming, they won’t move fast. They’ll burn and pillage as they go.”
“Why do they do that?”
Ronan shrugged. “Some have run out of room in their land, and so need to find new land to occupy. Others are looking for prisoners or wealth to take back to their land. Fat chance they’ll find any of that here. The folk around here are simple farmers and herders. I suppose they could steal the cattle and sheep, but that’s about all.”
Caymin gnawed on a strip of venison, wondering not for the first time what had led the pillagers to her village. She supposed she would never know.
They rested a bit after eating and then climbed again, staying until late in the day. Still nothing. They climbed back down before it got fully dark, just as a cold rain began to fall.
“I don’t fancy spending the night in this,” Ronan grumbled.
“There is a small cave over there.” Caymin pointed from where she huddled under her cloak. “I found it earlier.”
Ronan reached for the food basket. “Lead the way.”
He followed her to the low mouth of a cave. “I never would’ve seen this.”
“Wait,” she said, holding a hand out. “There is someone in there already.”
She probed. “I cannot fully speak to… whatever it is, but I sense it.”
“Is it dangerous?”
“I do not think so. It is afraid.”
“Tell it we won’t hurt it, we only want out of the wet.”
She reassured whatever was inside that they meant no harm, and led the way, crawling on hands and knees. Ronan had to get almost on his belly to get through the opening in the rocks.
Inside was dry. There was a rustling from the rear of the cave.
Caymin produced a ball of flame, holding her hand out to illuminate the dark recesses of the cavern. There, recoiling from the light, was a… a…
“What is it?” Ronan asked, his mouth twisted in disgust.
“I do not know.” Caymin had never seen anything like the white worm-like creature writhing against the rocks.
It had a long snout and short legs that didn’t look as if they could hold up its long body. Its eyes were large and milky, as if it was blind or accustomed to being in dark places.
“We need a fire,” Ronan said. “I’m going to get some wood.” He pointed at the worm-like creature. “Is it safe to leave you?”
“Yes,” Caymin answered.
Ronan crawled back outside, and Caymin examined the creature more closely, noting strange dark marks on its white skin.
“We will not harm you,” she said to it. She crept nearer. “Are you injured?”
It didn’t respond in words or thoughts as she was accustomed to when speaking with animals, but she could sense what it was feeling. The injuries were old and, though they still caused pain, they were no longer serious. She reached a tentative hand out. The creature shrank from her touch, but didn’t respond aggressively. The moment her hand came in contact with it, she felt a tingle. Gasping, she saw an explosion of images – flashes of light, the creature writhing in pain, escape to the welcome dark of an underground tunnel. So powerful were the images that Caymin felt her own side, expecting to feel blood and pain, but there was nothing.
By the time Ronan returned with a large armful of wet wood, pushing it ahead of him as he crawled back into the cave, Caymin had ignited a small pile of twigs that had blown into the cave, and she was running one hand over the worm-creature while still holding a handful of flame in the other.
“What is it?” he asked.
“His name is Péist,” Caymin said. “He is injured.”
“He told you his name?”
“No.” Caymin frowned. “I just know.” She started to lay her hands on the creature.
“Hold on,” Ronan said. “The last time you healed something, it nearly killed you. Is it – is he gravely injured?”
Caymin shook her head. “He says no.”
“Then it’s staying warm we need to worry about. We’ll have to feed this fire to ignite the wet wood and keep it burning. Save your energy for this.”
Caymin agreed, her teeth chattering. They gathered some of the wood Ronan had collected and added it to her twig fire. She and Ronan together fed the flames, forcing the wet wood to dry enough to catch fire and burn.
She took off her wet cloak and held it up to dry.
“Here.” Ronan whispered an incantation and moved his hand over the cloak, drying and warming it.
“I must learn that,” Caymin muttered, wrapping it back around her shoulders.
They were startled by a rustling sound behind them as Péist crawled nearer the fire, his milky-white eyes shielded from the light by semi-transparent inner lids.
“He likes the heat,” Caymin said.
Ronan shrugged, though he still looked with some disgust at the wriggling creature. “He’s welcome.”
The cave quickly warmed and Caymin stopped shivering. Her eyelids drooped and her head bobbed as she sat.
“Sorry,” she said, her head snapping up.
“Not to worry.” Ronan fed a few more branches to the fire. “Lie down and sleep. I’m going to sleep as well. We’ll keep an eye on the fire.” He glanced toward the white worm. “You’re sure?”
Caymin smiled. “I am sure. He is harmless.”
When they woke, the rain had stopped and Péist was gone. Caymin looked around the cave, but there was no sign of him other than undulating tracks in the dirt. Strangely, she could still sense him from a distance.
She and Ronan spent most of that day up in different trees, spreading out to observe a wider vista for any signs of danger. The birds all told her they had seen no disturbances.
“Nothing,” Ronan said that night when he got back to the cave. Caymin already had a large pile of firewood gathered and was roasting a few turnips in the coals.
“What I wouldn’t give for some stew,” Ronan said.
“This is better than earthworms,” Caymin said.
At Ronan’s puzzled expression, she said, “It is what the badgers tried to feed me when they first rescued me. They did not know what two-leg cubs ate.”
He chuckled. “And you just always knew how to talk to them?”
Caymin nodded. “Broc said I called to her.” She looked at him. “You said the invaders sometimes take prisoners. So that means they do not kill everyone?”
“That’s what I’ve been told. Some of them take captives and haul them back on their boats to wherever they came from.” He paused. “You’re wondering if your ma and da might still be alive?”
She shrugged and didn’t reply.
Ronan used a stick to prod the turnips out of the coals. “Here,” he said, tossing one to Caymin. They both had to hold the turnips in their cloaks for a moment until they cooled enough to eat.
“Do you know who attacked your village?”
Caymin s
hook her head. “No. I cannot remember.”
“Too bad. If you did, you might have a chance to find out if they’re still living.” He looked at her sympathetically. “’Tis not likely though.” He pulled out a knife to split his turnip and then handed the knife to Caymin.
“I know.” Caymin cut her turnip.
“We’ll stay one more day,” Ronan said. “If there’s nothing tomorrow, we’ll head back.”
When Caymin lay down to sleep, she could still feel Péist. She had never had a connection like this to another. Usually, the animals she could talk to were like talking to other people, and the connection ended when it ended. This connection, though, didn’t use words and felt almost as strong as it had when he had been in the cave with them. He was hunting, feeding hungrily on grubs and mice, as he hadn’t eaten the night before when they had entered his cave.
When at last she slept, she saw again her mother and father as they had appeared in her spiritwalk.
CHAPTER 11
The Invaders
When they were still some distance from the village, Ronan and Caymin felt something and paused. They listened, but there was absolute silence in the forest. Not a bird or animal moved or spoke. They placed their hands on an ancient tree and waited.
“I don’t hear anything,” Ronan said.
“Nor do I.”
They approached the village cautiously, the nearly empty food basket slung over Ronan’s shoulders and his spear held at the ready while Caymin had her bow strung, an arrow nocked. They were startled by Beanna, who came cawing and flapping toward them. She landed on Caymin’s shoulder.
“Did you see anything?” the crow asked.
“No. Nothing.”
“Two of the others did. They have all left for that part of the forest. Enat left instructions for you.”
Ronan understood and broke into a run, Caymin following on his heels while Beanna took to the air at the sudden jostling.
A piece of parchment was nailed to the door of the meetinghouse with a map of which direction the invaders had been spotted nearing the forest.
“Let’s go,” Ronan said.
“Enat said you are to pack more food,” Beanna told them. “And bring more weapons.”
Rising From the Ashes: The Chronicles of Caymin Page 11
