Rising From the Ashes: The Chronicles of Caymin

by Caren J. Werlinger

  “Caymin?”

  She heard Daina’s voice echo faintly down the tunnel. She didn’t answer.

  “Caymin? We know you’re in there.” This time Cíana called so that the badgers could understand as well. “Come out or we’re coming in.”

  Caymin glanced at Broc who gave her a push with her snout. “Go, little one. Talk to the two-legs.”

  Reluctantly, Caymin crawled up the tunnel. She emerged, wincing at the sunlight coming through the trees, to find Cíana and Daina sitting near the entrance to the sett.

  Daina held up a small bag. “We brought you and your clan some food.”

  Caymin opened it and looked inside to find oatcakes and meat and cheese and bread. She hungrily stuffed an oatcake into her mouth. “Thank you,” she mumbled.

  “How long are you going to stay here?” Daina asked.

  Caymin shrugged. “I do not know.”

  “Gai left.” Cíana watched her with narrowed eyes as she delivered this news.

  Caymin’s head snapped up. “He left?”

  “Yes.”

  Caymin suddenly found the woven pattern of the bag very interesting. She stared hard at it as she said, “Because of me?”

  “You and the message from his brother.”

  “We’re sorry,” said Daina softly. “About your family. We didn’t know.”

  “Why are you sorry?” Caymin asked, puzzled.

  “Because it causes you pain,” said Cíana. “I think Gai was sorry as well.”

  Caymin’s expression hardened. “He should be sorry.”

  Cíana leaned forward. “It was horrible for you to find out that way, but Gai isn’t the one who hurt you and your family.”

  Caymin thought about Enat saying the same thing.

  Daina laid a hand on Caymin’s knee. “Our circle feels as if it has broken. We miss you.”

  “What are you going to do?” Cíana asked.

  “I… I do not know.” Caymin felt lost. Just as when she’d become angry for the first time, she was unfamiliar with the things she was now feeling. She had no words to explain and didn’t know how to resolve the turmoil inside her.

  Cíana got to her feet and Daina followed.

  “Tonight we celebrate Imbolc,” Cíana said. “We hope you’ll come and join us. We’ll leave you now.”

  Caymin watched them go, feeling almost worse than before they came. She crawled back down the tunnel. She reached into the bag and handed out nuts and bits of dried meat to the cubs.

  Broc came to her. “What will you do, little one?”

  “I am not sure what to do.”

  “Enat has been kind to us.”

  “But she lied to me.” Caymin wrapped her cloak around her, fingering the embroidered head of the wolf.

  “I do not tell my cubs they may be hunted by two-legs, or die at the teeth of wolves,” said Broc. “They have much to learn and many things to fear. There will be time enough for them to know these hard truths. Perhaps Enat is the same. Perhaps she withheld this knowledge from you because you had much to learn, and she knew there would come a day when it was right to tell you about the ones who attacked your village.”

  Caymin looked at her shadow in the darkness of the sett. “You think I should go back?”

  “I think you should listen to what Enat has to say about why she did not tell you, and then you can make your decision. But think on this – if you do not go back, where will you go and what will you do? Do you know enough yet to leave?”

  Caymin reached out to stroke Broc’s silky coat. “You have always been wise.”

  “We will go with you if you leave,” said Cuán.

  “No!” Caymin sat up straight. “You and Péist are safe here. I cannot put you in danger again.” She took a deep breath. “I will go back. I will learn what I must to stop Timmin and protect you all.”

  CHAPTER 21

  The Traitor Revealed

  Caymin lay on her bed, ashamed to admit how good it felt to have a soft, warm mat under her. She listened to Enat’s breathing nearby and found it comforting.

  They had all welcomed her back as they gathered around the fire in the village for Imbolc, but Gai’s absence felt like a gaping hole in the celebration, more so than when Méav and Fergus and Ronan left, because they had left when they were supposed to. She had a hollow feeling in her stomach every time she thought of Gai – partly her continued rage at what his father’s warriors had done, and partly a feeling of unease over how she had accused him.

  She turned on her side and watched the dying flames in the hearth.

  “You can’t sleep?”

  Enat’s voice startled her. She sat up as Enat got out of bed and went to the fire.

  “Neither can I,” said Enat as she added a block of peat and prodded the flames.

  Caymin joined her at the hearth.

  “I’m glad you came back.”

  Caymin glanced at her, studying her face, the fine wrinkles visible in the dancing light from the fire. Enat turned and met her gaze. For long heartbeats, they stared into each other’s eyes.

  “You trusted me,” said Enat. “You believed that I would care for you, look out for you, do what was best for you. Like Broc and Cuán did.”

  Caymin blinked. “Yes.”

  “And it feels to you as if I betrayed that trust by not telling you the cloak belonged to Gai’s clan.”

  Caymin could no longer meet her eyes. Tears stung her own as she looked again at the fire. “Broc told me there are things cubs do not need to know when they are very young, that there is time later when it is right to tell them those things.”

  Enat smiled. “I’ve always respected the wisdom of animals, but I suspect Broc is wiser than most of the two-legs I know.”

  She heaved a heavy sigh. “I didn’t know how to tell you, Caymin. When I saw the cloak, and the symbol on it, I hoped that somehow, it was a mistake, that somehow Gai’s clan wasn’t involved. But then you went on your spiritwalks, and you saw what happened.” She rubbed her brow. “War between clans is a sad truth of our land. If we could unite under one king or queen, if we could accept one another’s beliefs… but we’re fragmented. We have many kings, and we have many gods and beliefs, and they each think they’re the true and right one.”

  “Like Timmin?”

  Enat nodded. “Like Timmin. And like the monks who fear the old ways. Not all are like that, but the ones there are stir up tensions and fuel the wars.”

  They sat side by side, staring into the flames.

  “Did you feel anyone trying to push into your thoughts tonight?”

  Caymin shook her head. She bit her lip to keep from blurting out that she didn’t expect to with Gai not there.

  “How is Péist?”

  “He sleeps.”

  Enat sighed again. “I can’t see what, but something else is stirring. I feel it. And I feel that Péist is tied to all that is happening.”

  Lessons continued for the apprentices under Enat’s guidance, while Ivar and Neela left the forest to reap new apprentices.

  They worked over their cauldrons. The four girls regularly made their monthly potions, but today all the younger apprentices were learning to mix a potion to ease childbirth.

  “I don’t want to make this,” Diarmit said, wrinkling his nose.

  Enat turned to him. “When you have heard a woman scream because she is being ripped in two giving birth to a child who is turned the wrong way, and an entire village is looking to you to ease her pain and save both lives, you will feel differently.”

  Diarmit’s chubby cheeks reddened and he turned back to his potion.

  “This potion needs to simmer. Keep stirring these until I return,” Enat said, leaving them to work.

  “How long will Neela and Ivar be gone?” Caymin asked. She hadn’t counted the days she and Enat had traveled, but knew it had been close to a fortnight.

  “They may not be back for two or three moons,” Daina said. “Depending on how far they have to go.”<
br />
  “Una said she heard them arguing,” Cíana said, stirring her potion. “She said it’s not unusual for two elders to reap when they feel power stirring, but Ivar insisted they shouldn’t both leave now.”

  Caymin paused, her hand suspended over her cauldron. “It is because of Timmin.”

  Cíana looked at her sharply as Daina said, “What do you mean?”

  Thinking quickly, Caymin said, “I mean, before, two could leave at the same time because Timmin was still here as First Mage if he was needed. What if invaders came again while they were gone? Enat is First Mage now. She is alone.”

  Daina’s eyes got big. “You’re right. I hadn’t thought of that.”

  “The invaders won’t be back,” Diarmit said.

  “How can you know that?” Cíana asked. “When the prisoner we had here gets back to his people, what if he remembers and tells them of us? They may come back.”

  Diarmit scoffed. “What makes you think he got back to his people?”

  Daina forgot her cauldron. “What makes you think he didn’t?”

  Diarmit’s eyes darted from her to Cíana to Caymin and back again. He reminded Caymin forcefully of a fox she’d seen once, trapped by a handful of villagers when it was caught stealing chickens.

  Enat startled them all by returning. “Let’s see how you did.” She checked their cauldrons, one by one. “You did well. We’ll bottle these and keep them for when they’re needed.”

  Carefully, they spooned their potions into glass bottles and sealed the lids with wax.

  “You may have the rest of the day to do as you wish,” Enat said as she placed the bottles on a shelf with their stock of other salves and potions.

  A soft, misty rain was falling as they left the meetinghouse.

  “Where are Una and Niall?” Daina asked.

  “They said they were going to go hunting,” Cíana said. “What do you want to do?”

  Diarmit squinted as he looked up at the flat gray sky. “Sleep.”

  Cíana shook her head. “You always want to sleep.”

  He yawned. “I’m always tired.”

  “Or hungry,” said Daina.

  Diarmit grinned and shrugged, turning for the boys’ cottage.

  Caymin pulled her cloak over her head. “Ivar left me some arrows to mend. I am going to work on those.”

  The three girls walked together toward Enat’s cottage.

  Daina looked at her. “We have a free day to do what we want and you’re going to work?”

  “Well, what do you want to do?”

  Daina looked around to make sure Enat was not within hearing. “Let’s go find Timmin’s cottage,” she whispered.

  “Why?” Cíana asked.

  “To look around,” Daina said. “Don’t you wonder why he really left? Let’s go see what’s there.”

  “There is nothing there,” Caymin said.

  “How do you know?” Cíana demanded.

  “I heard Enat tell Neela,” Caymin said, lying deliberately for the first time.

  Daina was watching her shrewdly. “Then there’s no harm in going, is there?”

  “Where is Timmin’s cottage?” Cíana asked. “I never heard the other elders talk about it.”

  “I heard Fergus and Ronan talking after they had to go get Timmin. They said it’s this way,” Daina said, striking out into the forest in the direction Caymin knew would take them to the cottage.

  Reluctantly, Caymin followed the others. She hung back, not at all sure they should be doing this. Daina grabbed her arm and dragged her along.

  “Are you sure this is the way?” Cíana asked.

  “I think so,” Daina said, and Caymin knew the trail they were following would take them to their destination.

  Caymin limped along with the others as they made their way through the damp forest.

  Daina saw it first. She paused, pulling back some low hanging branches as she peered at the cottage. It seemed to Caymin that the moss had grown much more over the stones, as if the forest was swallowing the cottage, taking it back.

  They all gasped as they saw Diarmit step out from behind the cottage.

  “What’s he doing here?” Cíana whispered.

  He walked around the cottage, his hands held out before him.

  “What are you feeling for?” Daina asked, stepping from the trees.

  Diarmit jumped at the sound of her voice, and had his arm drawn back until he saw who it was. “You scared the life out of me.” He eyed them. “Same as you. Curious about where Timmin lived.”

  “I thought you were going to sleep,” Daina said.

  He shrugged. “Changed my mind.”

  But Caymin’s heart raced. He knows. He knows there were protective enchantments in place, but he does not know Enat undid a portion of them. She marched through the opening and straight up to the door. She pushed it open, juddering loudly on rusty hinges. She looked back to see Diarmit standing with his mouth open. The others came in behind her.

  “What an awful, cold place to live,” Cíana said, her nose wrinkling at the smell of damp and decay within the cottage.

  Diarmit went directly to the table where the books and scrolls had lain. He let out an agitated breath as he moved the lamps and shuffled the few remaining scraps of parchment lying there.

  “What are you looking for?” Caymin asked innocently.

  Diarmit whirled, his eyes wild for a moment. As he met her gaze, understanding dawned on his face and he immediately composed his features.

  “Nothing.”

  Something shifted and the sleepy boy she’d known was gone. In his place was someone who suddenly appeared large and powerful, rather than fat and lumpy. His eyes held hers as her heart pounded in her chest and she couldn’t seem to look away. Vaguely, she heard Daina and Cíana talking, saying something about how cold and damp the stone cottage was. Diarmit’s face became a mask and he turned from her.

  Caymin felt dizzy with the speed of the realizations that raced through her head. But they battled with what she knew of Diarmit – the boy who couldn’t work spells, couldn’t talk to animals, didn’t do anything but eat and sleep.

  “I must go,” she heard herself say as she backed toward the door.

  A loud bang made her jump as the door slammed shut behind her. Another bang and Daina and Cíana crumpled to the floor.

  Caymin gasped, looking at their still bodies. “What have you done?”

  Diarmit took a step toward her. “Where are they?”

  “Who?”

  He pointed to the table. “The scrolls and the brooch. Where are they?”

  “I do not –”

  She stopped abruptly as she felt a push, a familiar intrusion into her thoughts. She still couldn’t block her emotions as Enat had tried to teach her. Reflexively, she threw up a protective spell that knocked Diarmit back a couple of steps.

  “It cannot be you.” She shook her head. “Gai…”

  Diarmit laughed. “Yes, he seems much more likely, doesn’t he? Arrogant, proud, selfish. Who would suspect me, the boy who can’t do anything right when Gai so conveniently made himself so unlikeable? No one looked at me twice.”

  “But why?”

  He smiled and, for the first time, Caymin saw a cruel glint in his eyes. “Timmin and the other elders think things are so simple – the old ways or the new, magic or the Christ. True power lies in knowing both, using both.”

  “Beanna? I need help. Get Enat!”

  Diarmit laughed again. “Calling for help? From the crow?”

  Caymin’s eyes widened. “You can understand?”

  Diarmit stepped sideways and Caymin circled, facing him.

  “It’s amazing what others say when they think you can’t hear or understand,” Diarmit said. “And the crow says they’ll tell tales of you one day? I’ll be the one they speak of someday, in whispers because they fear me.”

  “But why are you doing this?”

  Diarmit tilted his head. “My master recognized th
e power in me from a young age.”

  “Your master? Who is your master?”

  “A monk who understands how to use power, how to control it and the people under him.”

  “A monk?”

  “He has power of his own, but he was smart enough to see which way the wind blows. He knew the followers of the Christ were gaining control and the old ways were dying out. He uses both and taught me to do the same. I learned more from him than I have from these buffoons this entire past year. I had seen the white worm. I didn’t know what he was at first, and then the invaders came. I remembered the northman’s brooch, and when I saw Timmin’s interest in the worm, I knew what it meant. If I can harness the power of a dragon, and bring it back to my master, we could be invincible.”

  Caymin stared at him, not quite believing what she was hearing.

  “It was you,” she breathed. “You were the one who hurt Péist.”

  Diarmit’s eyes were wild. He picked up a heavy iron poker leaning against the hearth.

  “Enough of this. Before Enat comes. Where are the scrolls, where is the brooch and where is the worm?”

  “You would hurt me?” Caymin eyed him, placing her hand on the knife at her belt.

  “If I have to.”

  Her fists balled up as he laughed. She drew herself up. “Then you will have to hurt me, for I will tell you nothing.”

  Diarmit’s eyes narrowed. He reached into his tunic and pulled out a small bottle as he stepped nearer to Daina’s and Cíana’s motionless forms.

  “I don’t have to hurt you.” He knelt next to them. “A few drops of this in their mouths, and they’ll sleep until you’re an old woman.”

  He kept an eye on Caymin as he wiggled the stopper loose with his thumb. He bent over Daina.

  “NO!”

  Caymin threw all of her power at him, slamming him against the stone wall. The bottle shattered as it hit the flagstones. Diarmit slumped to the floor, unconscious. Caymin wrenched the door open and reached for Daina, grabbing her under the arms and dragging her out to safety. Cíana was stirring as Caymin went back inside.

  She groaned as she sat up. She saw Diarmit. “What happened?”