The Hermit of Lammas Wood

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The Hermit of Lammas Wood Page 1

by Nathan Lowell




  This book and any parts thereof may not be reproduced in any form, stored in any retrieval system, or transmitted in any manner except as authorized in writing by the author.

  All characters, places, and events in this work are fiction or fictionalized. Any resemblance to actual people, places, or events is coincidental.

  For more information, or to leave a comment about this book, please visit us at:

  http://www.lammaswood.com

  Copyright © 2014 Nathan Lowell, Greeley, CO

  PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES

  First printing: January, 2014

  To Debora Geary

  who convinced me that happy endings

  sometimes make good beginnings.

  Table of Contents

  Chapter 1: A New Beginning

  Chapter 2: Mother Oakton

  Chapter 3: A Misplaced Corpse

  Chapter 4: Bon Voyage

  Chapter 5: Plans Laid

  Chapter 6: The King’s Own

  Chapter 7: Time To Go

  Chapter 8: Slipping The Leash

  Chapter 9: On The Trail

  Chapter 10: Flown

  Chapter 11: Followed

  Chapter 12: Ole Man

  Chapter 13: In The Black Rock

  Chapter 14: Canyon Dreams

  Chapter 15: A Touch Of Weather

  Chapter 16: Those Who Came Before

  Chapter 17: Valley Of A Thousand Smokes

  Chapter 18: A Stone Cottage

  Chapter 19: Cider

  Chapter 20: Tall Tales

  Chapter 21: A Lonely Mule

  Chapter 22: The Old Knowledge

  Chapter 23: Beginning Lessons

  Chapter 24: Terrible Gossips

  Chapter 25: Sticks And Stones

  Chapter 26: Going South

  Chapter 27: Into The Woods

  Chapter 28: More Lessons

  Chapter 29: Intruders

  Chapter 30: Strategic Retreat

  Chapter 31: A Mad Plan

  Chapter 32: Into The Hole

  Chapter 33: Chained

  Chapter 34: Some Outside Help

  Chapter 35: Punch Press

  Chapter 36: Break Out

  Chapter 37: Hide And Seek

  Chapter 38: Hunters And Hunted

  Chapter 39: Unlikely Ally

  Chapter 40: Bad News

  Chapter 41: Back Down

  Chapter 42: Trapped

  Chapter 43: New Plans

  Chapter 44: More Gossip

  Other Works

  About The Author

  Chapter One:

  A New Beginning

  The scent of pine and wood smoke drew Tanyth out of sleep. A watery light from the window hinted at a dawn not long past, and the quiet rumbles from below spoke volumes about early risers. Lifting her head, she glanced over to the empty cot where Rebecca should have been. The coverlet lay pulled up and smoothed.

  Tanyth smiled and rolled herself out of the warm cocoon of blankets, shivering a bit across her arms at the sudden chill. She tugged on a woolen pullover before reaching for her trousers, then padded barefoot across the smooth wooden flooring to peer out the window.

  The inn sat on a rise. The view from the second floor overlooked the narrow harbor and the Bight beyond. The sun’s rays slashed across the water and stone piers. Beyond the headland, blue stretched to the horizon. One small craft beat its way out of the harbor, disappearing around the headland as she watched. Zypheria’s Call rested beside the pier, her masts looking oddly naked without the canvas suit.

  The clanking of cutlery and rumble of voices drew Tanyth back inside.

  “Time’s wastin’,” she muttered.

  She picked her way down the stairs to find the dining room bustling and a cheery fire in the huge stone hearth. Rebecca smiled at her and gave a little wave from a table near the fireplace.

  “Good morning, mum,” Rebecca said as Tanyth joined her.

  “Good mornin’. Did you sleep well?” Tanyth helped herself to a mug of tea from the heavy china teapot on the table.

  “Took me a while to get used to the bed not rocking.” Rebecca gave a short laugh. “Funny the things you get used to, eh? Slept good after that.” She pushed her mug toward Tanyth, who topped it off from the pot.

  “Did seem strange not to have to brace myself to put my pants on,” Tanyth said.

  They shared knowing smiles and addressed their tea.

  Amanda sailed out of the kitchen, baskets of bread stacked on a tray. She smiled at Tanyth and gave a little nod. “One minute, mum,” she said. She made one pass around the room, delivering baskets in her wake to the other diners and ending at Tanyth’s table where, with a flourish, she placed the last one.

  “Good mornin’, Amanda,” Tanyth said, inhaling the yeasty aroma wafting out of the covered basket.

  “Good morning, mum. Sleep well?”

  “Oh, aye. That husband of yours brews a fine ale, and I found it quite relaxin’.” She grinned and took a pull from the mug.

  Amanda’s smile broadened. “He does, but don’t tell him that. He’s already got enough of a head on him that gettin’ him through the door is a challenge some days. You ladies want some breakfast this morning? Comes with the room.”

  “Yes, please,” Rebecca said, lifting her nose into the air to take a deep breath. “Something smells wonderful.”

  “Perry’s in there makin’ griddle cakes like there’s a room full of longshoremen out here.”

  A gnarled older man with ruddy cheeks and a stubbled jaw at the next table guffawed. “Wonder why he thinks that?” he said, slapping the table with his open hand.

  Amanda cast her gaze around the room at all the burly men seated in the booths and at the tables. “Don’t know where he gets these notions, Willum. Something in the wind, maybe,” Amanda said, a wry smile pulling at the corner of her mouth.

  Several men at nearby tables chuckled.

  “Sounds lovely,” Tanyth said.

  The outer doors opened and a few more burly men stomped in.

  “I better tell Perry he’ll need a few more cakes,” Amanda said. “You two want anything special this morning?”

  “Griddle cakes sound good to me,” Rebecca said, her lips curled in a smile.

  “Comin’ up.” She disappeared back into the kitchen with a swirl of skirt.

  Rebecca put her cup down and looked across at Tanyth. “So, what’re you thinkin’ we should do next, mum?”

  “Visit the local healers. Check out the lay of the land.”

  “Think they know of the hermit?”

  Tanyth lifted one shoulder in a shrug and let it fall. “Either way we’ll learn somethin’.”

  Willum’s rough, low voice interrupted them. “The hermit?”

  Tanyth turned to find the man leaning away from his table to speak to them. “You know of the hermit? Willum, isn’t it?”

  “Yes’m. Willum Mayter.”

  Tanyth held out a hand. “Tanyth Fairport. Nice to meet you.”

  The man’s shaggy eyebrows bobbed up and down a couple of times before he briefly grasped her hand. “Howdy,” he said.

  Tanyth felt the rough calluses on his hands and the strength in his grip. “Aye. We’re looking for the hermit,” she said. “You know of her?”

  “Mum, ever’body knows of the hermit. Nasty piece of work. You really don’t wanna be messin’ around there.”

  Tanyth shared a brief glance at Rebecca before turning back to the man. “You’ve met her?”

  Willum’s eyebrows shot up but couldn’t even approach the hairline that appeared to have gone out with some long-ago tide. “Hardly, mum. And the hermit ain’t a she. He’s a he.”

  “Must be two different hermi
ts,” Rebecca said. “Gertie Pinecrest? You know of her?”

  Willum’s eyebrows came back down, almost meeting in the middle as he frowned. “No,” he said at last. “No, I don’t believe I know that name.”

  “She’s supposed to be the hermit of Lammas Wood,” Tanyth said. “I need to find her.”

  “Well, good luck on that one, mum,” Willum said. “Only hermit of Lammas Wood I know of is a crazy ole bugger lives on the far side of Notched Mountain up in the Valley of a Thousand Smokes.”

  “You’ve never met this hermit, then?” Tanyth asked again.

  “Lord and Lady, no. I don’t get that far out of town. The stories are bad enough.” He shook his head and leaned closer. “You’d be wise to leave off right here and head back to Kleesport with Captain Groves.”

  Amanda burst from the kitchen then with platters of griddle cakes and small, fat sausages. “Who’s hungry?” she called.

  A great shout answered her along with much slapping of table tops.

  Perry followed her out, and between the two of them they had the whole room served in nothing flat. The ambient chatter dropped to nearly nothing as hungry men dug into piles of cakes and sausages, all washed down with bottomless mugs of tea.

  “This looks wonderful,” Rebecca said, slathering her stack of cakes with butter.

  Tanyth drizzled a bit of honey across the top of hers and nodded. “This’ll get us off to a good start.”

  In less time than seemed possible, the men finished eating. The ambient noise in the room rose slowly until Willum pushed back his chair and stood.

  “All right, you lot. Time to earn them griddle cakes.” He jerked a thumb toward the door. “We got a ship to unload and reload. Time to git at it.”

  The gathered men all stood, queued more or less neatly,and moved through the doorway, heavy boots shuffling and the occasional taunt and chatter rippling through the crowd.

  Amanda came out of the kitchen drying her hands on her apron hem. “That time already, Willum?”

  Willum grinned. “Got ’em fed. Need to get ’em movin’ before they start thinkin’ it’s time for a nap.” He dug in his pocket, then tossed a gold coin onto the table. It clunked heavily on the wood and clattered a bit against the cutlery. “That cover the damages, Amanda?”

  She smiled back. “You know it’s more than enough, Willum. Bring ’em back at lunch and we’ll get ’em fed up again for the afternoon.”

  He gave her a salute with one meaty finger. “Thanks, Amanda. Gonna be a good season, I think.”

  “Hope so,” she said. “We could use one.”

  “True enough.” Willum pulled a heavy jacket from the peg on the wall and shrugged into it on the way to the door. He tugged a knit cap over his sparsely populated scalp before he disappeared out into the morning, the heavy doors at the front of the inn closing behind him with a heavy thunk.

  Amanda crossed to the table and motioned at the teapot. “You need more tea, ladies?”

  Tanyth hefted the pot and dribbled a bit into her mug. “We got plenty, I think. We’ll be gettin’ out of your way here in a few minutes ourselves.”

  “Big plans?” she asked, beginning to gather the used crockery and utensils from the next table.

  “Gonna see the sights,” Rebecca said, a wry grin curling her mouth on one side.

  Amanda snorted. “That won’t take long. Barely enough time to brew a fresh pot.”

  “Not much to see, then?” Tanyth asked.

  “Well, you’ve seen the docks and walked past the warehouses. You’ve spent the night at the inn. Other than a few houses tucked back in the forest, that leaves only the King’s Own garrison fort, a few shops, and a couple of taverns.”

  Tanyth glanced at Rebecca before turning back to Amanda. “That’s it?”

  “Well, the healers have offices in their houses. There’s a lumber yard inland a bit. Maybe half an hour’s walk.” She paused and cocked her head to one side, her eyes focused elsewhere. “That’s about it.”

  “You mentioned somethin’ about the healers last night. All men from the King’s College?”

  Amanda stopped her bustling and straightened up with a glance at the kitchen door. “Yeah. Garrison troops and longshoremen take a lot of healin’. Most women in town won’t visit them.” She looked down, resting a hand on her belly.

  “Any particular reason?” Rebecca asked.

  Amanda’s shoulders lifted and dropped in the tiniest of shrugs. “They’re used to dealing with garrison troops and longshoremen,” she said, as if that explained it all.

  “Where do the women go? Town got a midwife?” Tanyth asked, toying with the mug of cooling tea on the table.

  “Yeah. Mother Oakton. She’s got a house on the next street up the hill. Most of the women see her when they’ve the need.”

  Tanyth gave Amanda a sideways glance. “Doctors don’t take kindly to her, I take it.”

  Amanda sniffed and shook her head but before she could speak, Perry burst through the kitchen door, an empty bucket in one hand and a half-full one in the other. He flashed them a smile as he set to working along the wall of booths, stacking dirty dishes in the empty bucket and wiping down the tables with soapy water from the other.

  Amanda gave Tanyth a small nod before returning to her chores.

  “Right then,” Tanyth said, pushing herself up from the table. “Lemme get my staff and hat, and we’ll be off to see the sights.”

  Chapter Two:

  Mother Oakton

  The sun shone brightly through the tops of the spruce trees by the time Rebecca and Tanyth stepped out of the inn. Tanyth pulled her wool coat closed around herself and buttoned a couple of buttons. Their breath steamed in the chill morning.

  “Don’t seem much like spring, eh, mum?” Rebecca said, buttoning her own coat and pulling her wool cap down over her ears.

  “I ’spect it’ll be warm enough by noon.” She cast a smile in Rebecca’s direction. “Sooner if we go visit them healers.”

  “Is there any point to that, mum? Sounds like Mother Oakton is our best bet.”

  “That’s my thinkin’. Willum made me think the fewer people who know we’re looking for the hermit, the fewer people we’ll have tryin’ to stop us.”

  “There’s that.”

  They headed back to the main north-south road through town and turned up the hill. They passed a shop with worked wood in the small window–mostly carved items that might have been toys. Tanyth read the words “Andrew Carver – Cabinet Maker” painted on the glass in a neat hand. At the next intersection they stopped.

  “Left or right, mum?”

  Tanyth looked to the right. Several large buildings lined the road before it disappeared into the trees. A barrel hung suspended from a stout metal pole over the doors of one. “That must be the tavern.”

  “One of ’em, anyway,” Rebecca said.

  Tanyth turned left and strolled down the hard-packed street. They passed small houses, some with stick fences around small garden plots–most just bare earth, still packed from winter snows. Near the end of the block, just before the street ended at a stand of twisted pine trees, they stopped in front of a neat two-story building. A pine-needle path traced a curving walkway from the street to the low porch. Other paths ran between and around patches of earth–some with brushy plants well established, others simple plots of fresh looking earth, and still others with mounds of leaf mulch clinging to them.

  “Good morn, ladies. Can I help ye?” A young woman looking barely older than Rebecca came around the side of the house.

  Tanyth pushed her hat back and leaned on her staff. “We’re looking for Mother Oakton. Amanda said she lives on this street?”

  A smile glowed against the woman’s tanned face. “She does, indeed. In this very house, as it happens.”

  “We’d like to speak with her if that’s possible,” Rebecca said when it became clear the young woman had nothing to add.

  “You are,” she said and her smile got eve
n broader. “You came on the Call, I take it?”

  Tanyth answered the woman’s smile with one of her own. “We did. I’m Tanyth Fairport and this is my traveling companion, Rebecca Marong.”

  Rebecca nodded in greeting.

  “Well, neither of you seems to be with child. Why don’t you come up on the porch and we’ll chat about why you want to see me?” The woman followed one of the pine trails to the porch and tugged a couple of wooden chairs into the sun.

  Rebecca and Tanyth shared a surprised glance as they joined the woman on her porch.

  They settled even as the younger woman’s smile graced them with her evident amusement.

  “Most people who don’t know me come looking for my mother,” she said. “Dear soul passed these two winters back.”

  “And you took over the family business, I take it?” Tanyth asked.

  “Yeah. Such as it is.” Her smile faded a bit as her focus turned to someplace in the middle distance. “Woulda wished she’d hung around a little longer. Woulda been nice to have her deliverin’ her own grandbabies.”

  Tanyth saw Rebecca’s eyebrows arch in surprise.

  “Don’t look so startled, dear,” the woman said. “I reckon you’re old enough to have a few of your own, and I’ve a few winters on you.”

  “Well, yes. Of course,” Rebecca said. “Just...well...you don’t look married.” Her voice choked off and her face flushed red. “Or anything.”

  The woman threw back her head, musical peals of laughter echoing through the nearby wood. “Or anything. That’s about it.” She stopped laughing to bestow a friendly wink on the blushing woman. “Husband is helpful but most any man’ll do. Just never found one I wanted to have around long enough to have kids with.”

  “Sorry,” Rebecca said, looking at her hands where they clasped each other for support in her lap.

  “Nothin’ to be sorry about. Nothin’ at all.” She turned to Tanyth. “So, I’m Penny Oakton. Most people in town call me ‘Mother Oakton’ because it’s what they called my mother. What can I do for you?”

  “I need to find the hermit,” Tanyth said.

  Penny arched one eyebrow and pursed her lips. “Do ya now?”

  “I do.”

 

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