Chapter 1: The Meeting

Chapter 1: The Meeting

Once upon a time, there was a young woman who lived alone in a small cottage in the highlands, tending her sheep and weaving cloth in front of the fire on cold winter nights.

One cool and sunny spring morning a man crested yet another hill in his long journey. He gazed at the valley below and saw a small village. He thought to himself who will I be to these villagers, a storyteller, a magician, a poet or a warrior? Chuckling to himself yes, that is me a warrior poet. His body was weary but his soul and spirit resolute and determined. He carefully descended watching his every step so as not to twist his ankles on the rock strewn path. Just as he reached the bottom, but still well outside the village, he spied a small cottage. Outside it, he saw a woman among a flock of sheep. Something he could not explain drew him towards her instead of the village.  A dog started barking at him as he got closer. The woman whistled, and the dog stopped. Finally, he was near enough to see the woman in better detail. She was young and very lovely with long braided hair, and as he peered into her blue eyes, it reminded him of the waters of a large loch on a calm day, but just like the loch he knew there was a depth to her.

He could feel her sizing him up almost as if she was seeing deeper than humanly possible. He knew she would see his torn and worn clock, and as he scratched his cheek above his beard, he knew she would see his tribal tattoo on the side of his face. The tattoo he had got during his stay with the painted ones, this stirred memories of running beside them into battle. He mentally shook himself and brought his attention back to her. He cleared his throat and asked her where he could find some good food and lodging and possibly someone who could use a hired hand for a while.

As she watches the man approach the farm she reaches under her apron feeling the dagger she keeps tied there. Feeling the security of it, she turns all the way around to watch him. She closes her eyes halfway and says a few words quietly under her breath.

Her body begins to get warm as she mutters the phrase. She opens her eyes to gaze at him and sees the aura of colors around him. First, she spies a slight aura of purple surrounded by a larger aura of white and good glow of red between. She smiled inwardly at this.

He is a good spirit. He has a very pure soul. She has rarely seen so much white around a person, and she relaxes.

Ah, but the purple! He has a touch of the magic from the old people. She wonders if he knows he has this magic, or if he thinks it’s “luck” that often protects him. A slight smile touches her face at this thought. I will see how he handles this magic. Not right away but perhaps after I meet him, I will see.

The red brings a slight frown to her face. He also has a strong power of bravery. The power of bravery can be good and noble or can be turned dark and evil. It can also be his salvation or his undoing. That also will be left to be seen how the power has gone or can go. However, she has strong feeling of connection to him so again, she will wait and see.

When he enters the edge of the yard her dog Leon gives one low growl but at a sharp “quiet” from her, he goes and lies back in the shade.

Standing there he realizes he had been staring at her longer than he should, and that he feels at some kind of disadvantage in this meeting but instead of wanting to leave, he feels comfortable. His eyes wander to the thatch roof, and he sees the recently past long harsh winter has taken its toll, and it brings back memories of the man he called father and how the two of them would work side by side repairing the roof of their one-room cottage. He feels his left hand rubbing his brooch the coolness of it helps him snap his attention to the present. He quickly stops and focuses on the woman.

“Greetings," she says. “You need not to stand there and daydream. Please come and drink if you like. There is a cup at the well. Leon will not bite... unless I command him to."

“I am looking for work and lodging, do you know anyone who would be interested?” He says as he dips the ladle with his left hand into the water bucket.

She watches him drink and when he finishes he turns towards her. She says, “ I saw you looking at my roof. I realize it needs mending, but why would I have you do it when I have taken care of this place alone for many years?”

He stares back at her not changing his expression. “I never said you need help. I‘m only offering in exchange for food and a few days lodging. You have nothing to fear from me."

“Fear?’ She snaps at him. “I assure you I am not afraid of you!” Do you see fear from me?”

This time he can’t help himself, he breaks into a smile. “No M’lady, I read many things in your beautiful blue eyes. Fear is not one of them! Nor would I ever think of you as a half woman, you would quickly defeat any Roman man in a fight, you are comely but fierce I can see that!”

She glares at him and then, for the first time since their meeting, she smiles at him. He hangs the cup back in its rightful place and digs deep into a pocket and pulls something out and lowers himself close to the ground sitting as low as he can on his haunches.

Extending his right hand, flat and palm side up, he reveals a well-worn bone and in a soft firm voice, he says,“Leon, come here.” The dog wary at first approaches slowly, calmly he says,“It is okay. A very good companion of mine made good use of this before he left me. He could not finish it because his teeth were too worn and old. I think he would want you to have it.” With that said the dog took the prize from his hand and went off a short distance to enjoy it.

He stands back up and says, “My name is Edan a son of the unknown.”

She stops and watches him for a minute. She stares into his eyes. “My name is Moira. Now, if you like we can go inside, and we can break our fast, then discuss your work and lodging. Come.”

He follows her and the dog inside, once inside he undoes his brooch and hangs his cloak on the wooden peg that is just inside the door. He does so very carefully and gently runs his hands down the worn and damaged fabric. He then takes off his scabbard and hangs it another peg close to his cloak. She can see the scabbard is well-made and with very ornate designs, but it is too dim to make out much detail. Her eyes peer at his cloak. She has never seen a cloak with stripes in those colors before, her eyes fall upon his saffron linen tunic as he turns and faces her.

“I have never seen a cloak in those colors, before and the brooch is lovely.” She says.

“There is a story behind those colors and the brooch, one of strangeness, mystery and the unanswered.” He stares back at the cloak for a second, goes back and retrieves the brooch.

“Sit and tell me the story if you so wish.” She commands

As he sits, he clears his throat, “Many years ago, one night a small village was awakened by a shepherd, who was shouting and pointing at the mountains to the north. Everyone came out and watched as lightning like flashes seem to come from the valley on the other side of the mountains. It is a storm one said, now another said I hear no thunder. They watch for what seemed hours than the lightning stopped, and it is then that they saw the angry red barely peeking over the top of the mountain. They knew that color, the next valley over must surely be on fire. All night they watched fearing the fire would spread south to them. As the sky got red in the east as the sun rose, the crimson sky in the north faded.”

Moira came over and placed a bowl of steaming oats in front of him. He smiled and thanked her and then continued his story.

“The villagers gathered and decided to go and see what had happened. When they got to the top of the mountain and looked down at the valley below, they saw nothing but burned out ground. The fire was so strong only stumps remained, but as they descended, they saw a tree at the lowest part of the valley, it to was burnt but its branches seemed to be bent down protecting something on the ground. The blacksmith was the first to get there and when he was close enough he could see the ground was not burnt below those branches. There was a bundled-up cloak again untouched by the flames. He could see movement from inside. He approached, undid the brooch pin that bound the bundle and slowly pulled aside some of the cloth and found a small baby boy. He picked up the baby and the cloak as the rest of the villagers caught up to him. They searched but found nothing else left alive or unpunished by the flames. They went back to the village, and the blacksmith gave the baby to his wife who a few weeks earlier had a stillborn baby boy. She took the cloak and the brooch and put it away in a safe place.”

Moira had stopped eating her oats to listen to the story. As he began telling it, she again began to feel the warmth of the magic spreading over her. This time, however, she knew it was coming from Edan and watched as the purple aura grew stronger with the telling. She saw his fingers sliding over the booch.  A dragon at the top and the bottom with peridot gems set on both sides. In the center was a strange stone that looked like the center of a whirlwind in motion as he moved it around in his hands.

“Ah," she thought to herself, “it’s as if the story itself heightens the magic. I wonder if he feels it as well.”

“I see and that child was you.” She said it as a statement. “And you are a storyteller as well as a warrior.”

After the simple meal Moira sent him to the stable to get what tools he needed to begin repairing the roof. He was only in there a short while before she decided she should show him where everything was. She got to the stable door, but before she entered, she noticed Edan in one of the stalls with his back to her changing his tunic, he had laid the one he had come in over the stall wall and was just about to put on a sleeveless rougher looking one, but before he did she noticed the scars on his back. There was surely a story behind them, but she knew it would not be something he would tell her for a while. She quietly backed away before he noticed her and figured he could find all he needed without her help.

He repaired the roof as she hooked the plow to the ox and began on her garden. (more here later)

When the sun was high in the sky, she went into the house for bread, cheese and wine then she brought them to a shady spot and spread the food out. She called to Edan to join her. They ate together in silence each lost in their own thoughts. She noticed he gave Leon, who was laying on the ground between them, his last bite of cheese. Each went back to their chores. She often stole glances at him. She felt herself drawn to him, and her mind kept wandering back to the story he had started telling her earlier.

After the sun began to fall, she went in order to prepare another simple meal, she had hung it over the fire in a thick iron pot to simmer before she went out with the midday meal. She put a few last minute herbs into before she dished it up. She called for Edan and Leon to come inside. Edan came in and noticed everything already set on the table, so he sat down and waited for Moira to join him. As she sat down, she noticed that he had closed his eyes briefly and saw his lips move silently. He opened his eyes leaned forward and took a deep breath of the stew. He smiled at her. He dipped his spoon in and took his first bite.

“Ah, a fine stobhach gaelach! I can taste rosemary and something else that I cannot tell what it is?”

    “It has a touch of cinnamon, something most people do not think of using with meat. I have found it gives an unusual taste. My father often brings me spices from his journeys. Others I gather in the woods or grow myself.”

   Moira blushes thinking, “I babble like a maiden at her first conversation with a man.”

(fill in any part of this you like. This is more a frame and can use more body)

When Edan finished helping to clean up the meal, he picked up his sword and started toward the door. He smiled and said, “goodnight Moira, I hope that you rest well.”

“Wait! Let me get you another blanket. It  still gets cold at night.” She went through a door at the back of the cottage and returned with a thick fleece blanket and handed to him.

“Thank you m’lady, ‘tis very kind of you to think of my comfort.”

“It is only a blanket” she waved a hand as if to dismiss it.

As Edan headed for the door Leon got up from the fire and followed him. “No Leon, you must stay here and protect your lady. Go back to the fire!” Leon stopped and looked at him, as if he was not sure what to do.

“Let him go with you. He does not take to men at all. He must feel you are trustworthy. He will keep you warm. You need not fear fleas. I make a special powder from garlic and other herbs. You both will be safe, warm and comfortable.” She smiled at him, and he saw that the smile lit her eyes as well as her face.

“Then again, again mi’lady I bid you goodnight” Edan turned and went out the door with Leon following closely behind.

Halfway to the stable he stopped and looked up at the night sky. It was very clear and the stars, as always, looked like small bright jewels set in the blackest black he had ever seen. He never grew tired of staring at the night sky. He saw that Cernunnos was low in the southwest sky as it should be since its season was about gone. His father and the monks had taught him much about the night sky, albeit from different conflicting points of view.

He eventually continued his journey to the stable with Leon close beside him. He gathered a fresh pile of hay and he, and Leon huddled together for the night. Feeling Leon close beside him brought back memories of his recently lost companion, and he thought of all the dogs he had been blessed to know since he was a small child, each lasting only what seemed too short of a time. As he lay there trying to go to sleep, he thought about the day and this place and Moira, it somehow felt right and comfortable. For some reason, he felt more at ease with her then he did with any others he had met, but sometimes he felt naked in her eyes like she was seeing things in him, he never revealed to anyone.

Moira locked the door after they left, out of habit instead of fear. Then she unlocked it feeling she was safe knowing Edan and Leon were close by. Removing her gown leaving only her shift, she climbed into her bed. She was weary from the day's labors and felt she'd fall immediately to sleep.

Author's Note

Do not review the grammar at this point. This is, a co-authored writing from a while back. It starts with the poem, "The Quandary" which was the birth of other poems and this writing. This is very much a work in progress and I will flesh out more of what is published as time goes by.

Reviews

[Dean Vaksman]

Very narrative indeed. It's a nice piece you made there, and the characters are fairly interesting on their own. I don't have too many observations except that you need to keep watch on those commas. You are missing a lot of those.

Except that, you did a good job with all of it.

Also, If I could pitch in my personal taste here, I would add more personality into the narration. But it's just a personal taste, not a rule.

Keep it up friend.

[H.L. Cerveise]

Thank you so much for reading and reviewing this story. Yes, I know I have grammar issues which I will fix. I like your comment about more personality into the narration. As the story is fleshed out more I will keep that in mind. I might be building the characters to slowly in chapter one in my hast to get to the hunt and the sword play in chapter two. Thank you so much for your input.

[Dean Vaksman]

No problem. Keep doing your best.