Origin of Druid (Druid's Path Book 1)

by Mark Philipson

  Kermode remembered what the fisherman Judocus at Bredon had told him: the fishing had been poor lately. Kermode threw on his robes. Minian and Modac were still sleeping when he left the roundhouse.

  By the time Kermode reached the house of Judocus the sun had just started to peek over the eastern horizon.

  “Gods to you this morning,” Judocus looked up when he saw Kermode standing in the yard. He set the horsehair brush in the bucket of pine resin and stood. “My son grows stronger every day.”

  “Gods back,” Kermode replied. “I’m glad the boy is well.”

  “Is there something I can do for you?” Judocus got right to the point.

  “Yes, there is ...” Kermode, not knowing how to put it, trailed off.

  Judocus waited for an answer.

  “I want you to take me fishing with you.” Kermode blurted it out.

  “Why?”

  “I think I can put you on some fish,” Kermode shrugged.

  “How?” Judocus asked, trying to hide his interest.

  “Yesterday, I put an arrow through twelve gauntlet axes at the festival—“

  “That was you?” The fisherman stared at Kermode. “Did you really do it with your eyes closed? Or was it some kind of druid magic?”

  “No trick,” Kermode shook his head. “I did have some help, though.”

  “What the hell,” Judocus laughed. “If it will put fish in the boat, I’m all for it.”

  Kermode rowed while Judocus sat at the stern. “That’s it, smooth and steady.” Judocus held the rudder in line with the keel. The boat crashed through the last breakers near shore then headed out to open water.

  Kermode shipped the oars. “We should try here,” he told Judocus.

  “Anchor or drift?” Judocus asked.

  “Anchor,” Kermode, not knowing the right answer, replied quickly.

  “The anchor is the hook looking piece of iron in the bow. It’s tied to the length of rope coiled at your feet.” Judocus looked at Kermode out of the corner of his eye.

  Kermode reached in the pouch and touched the stone. He picked the anchor up and dropped it over the side. When the line came tight and the bow swing into the wind, Kermode tied the line off to a cleat.

  “You learn fast, druid,” the fisherman remarked.

  “I need to use your lantern,” Kermode said.

  “What are you going to do with it?”

  “I’m going to open it, remove the candle, set something in it, and lower the lamp to the bottom.”

  “And this will bring fish? If it doesn’t work you’ll owe me for a lamp.”

  “You have my word.”

  Judocus lifted the lamp off the deck and handed it to Kermode.

  Once Kermode gutted the lamp he set the stone in the clump of wax at the base. He reset the cap and tied a light line to the handle. Kermode lowered the lamp over the side.

  Moments later Kermode said, “Be ready with the net.” Silvery flashes darted through the water around the boat. Judocus stood, lifting the cast net off the deck. He folded the netting up to the horn and clutched the end of the hand-line in his teeth. Judocus threw the net. He pulled hard on the hand-line. The net flattened out into a perfect circle inches above the water.

  Judocus strained to pull the net back up. The hand-line vibrated and quivered as Judocus hauled it back up to the surface. Kermode and Judocus set the cast net on the deck. A handful of big codfish beat the wooden planks with their tails. “Clear these fish from the net,” Judocus told Kermode while he pulled another cast net from a compartment in the stern.

  Kermode had the last fish cleared from the net when Judocus brought the second cast net to the surface. It took both men to haul the full net into the boat.

  “Phew,” Judocus said, catching his breath. As Kermode picked through the net Judocus clubbed the thrashing codfish senseless. “Pull the anchor,” he said.

  As they neared shore people on the beach waded out to greet them. The onlookers hauled the boat the rest of the way to shore.

  On the beach Judocus sold the catch. Kermode stood off to one side, watching Judocus strike bargains for copper or trade.

  Kermode strolled up to Judocus when the crowd thinned out. “I told you I’d put you on some fish,” Kermode said.

  “Hmm ...” Judocus sighed. “Are you sure it’s you and not the stone I gave you?”

  “Perhaps it is both,” Kermode answered.

  “What does that mean, Druid Kermode?”

  “You had the stone for years,” Kermode nodded. “You could never get it to work for you. I’ve had it for a few days and it is working for me.”

  “What do you want from me?”

  “Four pieces of copper: two for saving your son and two for teaching you how to catch fish.”

  “Very well,” Judocus agreed. As he handed over the coins he said, “What about tomorrow. Are we fishing?”

  “I’ll meet you at dawn,” Kermode replied as he walked up the beach.

  Kermode stood in Idellsa’s shop. He set four pieces of copper on the table. Idellsa looked up, “Gods to you this morning.”

  Kermode wanted to tell Idellsa that after last night he felt as if he himself was a god. The most he could manage was, “I have more money to put toward the amulet. I know it’s not a piece of silver ...” Kermode trailed off.

  “This will do, Kermode.”

  “Many thanks, Idellsa.”

  Idellsa sniffed the air. “Have you been fishing this morning?” she asked.

  ■ ■ ■ ■

  Kermode and the fisherman, when the weather permitted, set out in the morning and fished offshore. Over the next three weeks Kermode had made enough copper to pay for the full price of the amulet.

  “You know you didn’t have to pay in full until the amulet was complete,” Idellsa told Kermode as he fanned coins across the table.

  Idellsa looked around. “You know I was a virgin until the night of the festival.”

  Kermode, face reddening, said, “I thought as much.”

  “My time of the month will be coming up soon ...” Idellsa hesitated.

  Kermode shrugged, not knowing what to say.

  “Kermode, you are the only man I’ve laid with.”

  Hearing these words started a warm feeling in the pit of Kermode’s stomach.

  “Does this mean you are my woman?” Kermode asked.

  “Is that what you want?” Idellsa asked. She waited for the answer.

  “Words can’t come near my feelings for you, Idellsa,” Kermode said. He added, “I’m with you, with or without child,” as he held her hands.

  Osker walked into the shop. Idellsa tried to pull her hands away. Kermode kept them close.

  “What type of trade is this?” Osker narrowed his eyes.

  Kermode turned to face Osker, “This is no trade ... I love your daughter ... I want her to be my wife.”

  “This is what you want?” Osker turned to Idellsa.

  “Yes.”

  “Very well, a wedding it is.”

  ■ ■ ■ ■

  Kermode and Idellsa, dressed in fine kilts, stood on the summit of the hill. Osker stepped forward. He took a piece of died cloth and tied the couple’s wrists together.

  The moment the knot was tied, a man standing behind the couple squeezed the bladder and blew on a reed pipe. Shrill sounds echoed across the circle of people standing around the bride and groom. The sounds traveled down the face of the cliff and were swallowed by the waves of the ocean.

  When the hand-fasting was over. Osker gave Kermode and Idellsa a set of matching rings. They placed them on each other’s fingers.

  Once the bridal ceremony ended, kegs of beer were opened and flagons filled. Mutton and pork that had been cooking all morning was served to hungry guests. Bowls of fresh fruit adorned the tables.

  Kermode and Idellsa stood at the front door of a roundhouse. “Here we are,” Kermode said.

  “This is ours?” Idellsa asked.

  “Yes, I had
it started the day after you agreed to be my wife.”

  ■ ■ ■ ■

  One day Kermode was called before Brisius. “You have proven to be very resourceful, Kermode.”

  “I’ve been fortunate,” Kermode shrugged.

  “Indeed,” Brisius nodded.

  Kermode became uneasy. He shifted his weight, hoping the elder druid would leave it at that. Kermode didn’t want to answer any questions.

  “You know Kermode, I’m looking for someone to leave my staff to when I pass on,” Brisius said.

  “Have you decided on someone?”

  “Yes, I have—you.”

  “Are you sure that is wise,” Kermode said. “There are others more devoted than myself.”

  “Simple devotion doesn’t make an elder white druid. It takes more. It takes an understanding of nature, it takes an understanding of people, and it takes a will to power.”

  “I understand,” Kermode nodded.

  “I think you have these things. If channeled in the right direction I can see you doing good things for the tribe, even to the point of bringing more clans to unite behind you.” Brisius looked Kermode square in the eye and asked, “Do you see in which direction I’m headed?”

  “I see,” Kermode answered. “I won’t let you down.”

  ■ ■ ■ ■

  From what Kermode could glean from Brisius’ words he should use the power of the stone to advance his standing as a white druid.

  As he walked the path leading up to his roundhouse he thought of finding a way to enable the men of the fishing village to increase their catch in a fashion fair to all.

  The thought, Perhaps there is a way to influence the growth of crops, ran through Kermode’s mind as he entered the roundhouse.

  Idellsa, her belly just starting to show signs of swelling, handed Kermode a chain. An intricately carved swirling dragon hung on the chain. “Where is the stone?” Kermode asked.

  “I wasn’t able to set it. It is harder than any metal I have. I embedded the stone in the belly of the serpent.”

  Kermode clutched the dragon. He felt warmth radiating into his palm. Kermode hung the chain around his neck.

  That night Kermode lay in bed. He looked over at Idellsa. Her chest heaved with each rhythmic breath she took. He held the amulet in his hands. He caught a whiff of rain in the air. Thunder boomed in the distance.

  Kermode’s mind wandered. What if a large net was lowered to the bottom? The amulet could be lowered. Once fish were drawn the stone, a group of boats could lift the net. The catch could be shared among the villagers.

  Kermode drifted off to sleep as the first raindrops fell.

  ■ ■ ■ ■

  Kermode walked up to Judocus’ roundhouse. “I didn’t think we’d be fishing today,” he said when he saw Kermode standing in the yard.

  Kermode looked at the breakers hitting the shore to the shimmering swells stretching to the horizon. “I have a plan,” Kermode said. “One that will benefit us as well as the rest of the fisherman in the village.”

  Judocus knew Kermode’s ideas usually bore fruit. “I’m listening.”

  Kermode knelt down. He used the end of his staff to draw a big circle in the sand. He glanced at one of the boats in the yard then carefully sketched elliptical shapes around the perimeter of the circle. “This is a net, and these are boats surrounding the net.”

  “Each one of these boats are the same size as the one over there,” Judocus scratched his head and motioned to the boat set up on barrels.

  “Yes,” Kermode answered. “Do you have a net that big?”

  “No, it would take a giant to throw a net of that size,” Judocus laughed.

  Five

  The Farmers

  THE NET KERMODE wanted was five times the size of the throw net most coastal fisherman used. “It will take days to build a net this big,” Judocus said. He threw his hands in the air.

  “Maybe ...” Kermode said then paused.

  “What are you thinking?” Judocus scratched his chin.

  “It would take days for one man to make one net this size,” Kermode nodded. “How long would it take for many men to make one net this size?”

  Judocus pushed his curly hair back off his forehead. “You tell me how you want to pull this off,” he told Kermode.

  “Very well ...” Kermode thought for a few moments then said, “We’ll strike a bargain with some of the villagers. If they can come together and give us a good price for the big net, we’ll include them in the next fishing trip.”

  Kermode stood to the side while Judocus spoke to four fisherman. “We want to trade copper pieces for a net that will be ...” Judocus trailed off and held up five fingers.

  “What are you saying?” One of the fisherman asked.

  “The one net we want will be as large as a hand’s worth of single nets.”

  Judocus waited, letting his last words sink in.

  “And this is to be a round net?”

  Judocus looked to Kermode. “Yes,” he answered after getting a slight nod.

  Cries of protests came forth from the fisherman.

  Kermode stepped forward: “I have a plan,” he said. His booming voice seemed to drown out the fisherman and they quieted down. “As you know, Judocus and I have been finding fish lately.”

  The fisherman nodded. They’d seen Judocus’ boat loaded to the gunwales with cod.

  “My plan is to build a big net and load it up with fish. I need you men to help me make it work.” Kermode left out the details: how would the net be built and how would enough fish be drawn in to fill a net that size?

  ■ ■ ■ ■

  Kermode returned to the shop. Loud voices flowed out of an open window. Inside Osker and Idellsa stopped arguing as soon as they saw Kermode.

  “Gods to you this morning, Osker,” Kermode nodded.

  Osker returned the greeting.

  When nobody spoke Kermode asked, “Do you two wish to be left alone?”

  Osker hesitated then replied, “No, anything I say to Idellsa I can say to you.”

  “Very well.” Kermode waited.

  “Idellsa wants a bigger share of the jewelry profits,” Osker said.

  “Well, she does all the designing and building of the pieces,” Kermode said.

  “Truth,” Osker agreed. The way he drawled out the word showed a trace of reluctance in his voice.

  Kermode adjusted the chain holding the amulet. Contact near the stone sparked a flood of visions and ideas. He saw the fisherman of the village catching a greater number of fish on a regular basis. He saw large abundances of salted cod for the winters. He saw trade with neighboring tribes. He saw people having more to spend on goods such as metal ware and jewelry.

  “Osker, if you stand behind us you’ll be rewarded.”

  Osker looked at Kermode. “How can you be so sure?” he asked.

  “You’ll have to trust me on this,” Kermode shrugged. He hoped his performance at the festival, the fishing trips with Judocus, and the fact he was the father of Idellsa’s child would add weight to his words.

  Osker took a deep breath. Finally, he sighed, “Very well.” He turned to Idellsa. “We’ll work out the fine points.”

  “Thank you. father,” Idellsa came around the table. She gave Osker a big hug.

  ■ ■ ■ ■

  “I have your first request for work,” Kermode said to Idellsa after Osker left the shop.

  “Oh, what is that?”

  “It’s not a piece of metal,” Kermode shook his head.

  “Well, out with it. What do you want?”

  “You’ll probably need a piece of birch and your bead rack for this,” Kermode suggested.

  “Very well.” Idellsa set a birch sheet on the table. She reached below the table and set the wooden base of the bead rack next to the sheet.

  “I want to make a net that would be the same size as ...” Kermode paused as he dragged five beads along the top level dowel rods mounted on the upright pie
ces at the ends of the base.

  “As ...” Idellsa waited, glancing at the beads.

  Kermode led Idellsa outside. A throw net lay spread out on the grass. “I want the big net to be as big as a hand’s worth of these.” Kermode motioned to the net.

  “We’ll use your arm, from elbow to wrist, as our rule,” Idellsa told Kermode.

  “We’re should I begin, Idellsa?”

  “Start at the middle and work to the outer edge,” Idellsa answered. She counted each length and marked the increments on the sheet. She drew a circle and sketched a line from the center of the net to the perimeter.

  With all the lengths measured, Idellsa returned to the shop. She got out a stylus and set to work.

  Kermode waited while Idellsa made notes on the sheet. “To make a small net you need one of these.” Idelssa slid a brown bead across the dowel.

  Kermode knew Idellsa used the dark beads on the lowered dowel to indicate greater amounts. “One of those beads is the same as two hand’s worth.”

  “So—” Kermode stepped up to the bead rack. He slid ten yellow beads on the second dowel over the single brown bead. “The big net will need this amount of braided line,” he said.

  “And a few beads of line to spare,” Idellsa said.

  “Idellsa, would you help the fisherman build this net?” Kermode asked. “I mean, we could use someone like you to oversee the tying of the webbing. Someone who understands counting and measures.”

  “I’ve never done anything like this before,” Idellsa frowned. She rolled her eyes.

  “You never laid down with a druid before,” Kermode set her hand on her shoulder. “It’s not a far stretch what what you do now, just on a bigger scale” he shrugged.

  Five fisherman, including Judocus, worked on different parts of the net at the same time. They worked from a center ring and fastened the first circular section of webbing to the ring. They continued moving outward, tying and splicing as they made their way away from the center. Idellsa gave each one of the fisherman pieces of flat triangular wood cut to the length of Kermode’s hand. These pieces, all cut to the same width and length, were used as guides to determine the space between the webbing. “These are big holes,” one of the net makers said. He waved the guide in the air.