“Oh, well. There was one story about a lumberjack who got chased away from the woods.”
“I keep hearin’ that one, too. Not me. Not enough lumber to attract them here. Nobody’ll mess with my apple trees and there’s little enough timber in the valley to tempt ’em. Barely enough for me to use for firewood these days.”
Tanyth considered the wood stacked beside the hearth. “I didn’t notice much stacked outside. Is that all you got?”
“There’s some around the side of the cottage. There’ll be more. The trapper who’s comin’ for the cider will bring some in for me. He’s a regular. Knows what I need.”
Tanyth sipped her tea and eyed the wood. “Must get cold up here come winter.”
Gertie shrugged. “Not as cold as all that. Cold enough for the apple trees, but there’s pools down in the lower valley that don’t even freeze.”
Tanyth snorted. “If they’re hot as that pool I washed the jugs in, I can see why.”
“Some’re hotter. There’s a couple that would boil dry without fresh water every day.” Gertie nodded at the door leading back under the mountain. “There’s some hot springs back there that’re hot enough to cook in. The rocks around ’em can fry an egg if you’d a mind to do it.”
“So if it gets too cold, you can just hole up back there?”
“Have and do. I gen’rally get plenty of notice when anybody comes callin’. I can decide if I wanna light a fire to greet ’em.”
“How? The trees tell ya?” Tanyth asked.
Gertie’s eyes sought the ceiling as she thought about it. “Trees, rabbits. Owls sometimes. Mostly mice. Don’t know why but the little buggers like me.”
Tanyth sipped her tea and listened to the fire crackle and snap in the hearth. She had a lot to think about.
Chapter Twenty-one:
A Lonely Mule
Shortly after noon, Tanyth heard the sound of hooves outside.
“That’ll be Nick and Sarah,” Gertie said without getting up.
“Your trapper friend?”
“Friend might be too strong a word.” Gertie shrugged. “He likes his cider and he always brings me wood and—sometimes—cloth.”
“No furs?”
Gertie cast her a baleful look. “No furs.”
After a few moments, a knock came on the door. “Hello? The hermit there?”
Gertie got up from her chair and opened the door. “Howdy, Nick.”
Tanyth stood and peeked out the window at a pack-saddled mule with her head down, lipping at the scattered grasses.
“Afta’noon, mum. Brought back yer empties.”
Gertie took the familiar-looking jugs from the man and placed them on the table. “Ah, thank ye, Nick. I can always use empties. How’s Sarah doin’?” she asked.
“Funny you should ask, mum,” Nick said. “She’s been a bit off her feed lately.”
“You ain’t pushin’ her too hard are ya?”
“Don’t think so, mum.”
Gertie stepped back out of the doorway and turned to Tanyth. “You feel like learnin’ somethin’?”
“Always.”
“Let’s go look at Sarah. See what ya think.”
Tanyth felt her forehead wrinkle. “I don’t know much about mules.”
“You know enough,” Gertie said. She nodded an invitation and stepped out of the cottage.
Tanyth followed and saw Nick for the first time.
His eyes went wide when she stepped out and he snatched the brimmed hat from his head. Looking down at his feet, he knuckled his sun-seamed brow in a respectful salute. “Howdy do, mum.”
“Tanyth, that’s Nick. Nick, Tanyth,” Gertie said as she ambled across the stony ground toward the mule.
“Nice to meet ya, Nick.”
“She’ll be stayin’ with me this summer,” Gertie said.
Gertie stopped a few feet from the mule and just stood there.
Nick skittered across the yard to stand beside her. His wiry frame barely came up to the old woman’s shoulder. “What ya think, mum?”
Gertie didn’t say anything for a few moments. She waved Tanyth forward. “Do me a favor and give that girl a good lookin’ at would ya, Tanyth?”
Tanyth crossed the yard and walked up to the mule.
The animal lifted her head and stared. Her left ear flicked two or three times and her long tail switched once. She shifted her weight on her hind legs, and Tanyth saw her nostrils flare a bit.
Tanyth reached out to let the mule smell her hand a moment before stroking back alongside the mule’s muzzle, stopping to scratch behind her left ear. She worked her way down Sarah’s left side, stroking the napped hair as she went. She stopped at her flank and patted her rump once, raising a cloud of horse-scented dust in the clear afternoon air.
“Somethin’s not quite right,” Tanyth said.
“Know what it is?” Gertie asked.
“Not yet.
She worked her way toward the mule’s head again and walked down the right side, patting and speaking softly to her. She lifted Sarah’s hind hoof, running her fingers around the tough edge and over the frog at the center of the underside. Seeing nothing unusual, she let the hoof drop and worked her way forward again, stopping beside the mule’s head. She reached out and scratched her behind the ear.
“Close yer eyes,” Gertie said. “See what she’ll tell ya if’n yer not lookin’ at her.”
Tanyth looked at Gertie. “Close my eyes?”
“Yeah. You’re lettin’ your eyes argue with what your brain already knows.”
Nick’s eyes looked big as saucers as he looked back and forth between the women.
With a shrug, Tanyth closed her eyes and leaned into the mule, wrapping an arm over Sarah’s strong neck and resting her forehead against her jaw. They stood there for several moments, the two of them leaning against one another. It felt comforting in a way. A warm presence in a cold and lonely world.
Tanyth opened her eyes and stepped back, the realization startling her even as the mule heaved a huge sigh and blew it out through her wide nose. She turned to Gertie. “She’s lonely?”
Gertie nodded. “That’s what I thought, too.”
Nick took a step back. “That’s crazy. You two tryin’ to tell me she’s lonely?”
Gertie nodded her head and lifted a shoulder in a shrug. “Looks like.”
“What? I need to get her a playmate or somethin’?” Nick’s expression alternated between a cloud of disbelief and a half smile of amusement.
“You got another mule?” Gertie asked. “That’d be best.”
Nick jammed his hat back on his head. “Ain’t got another mule. Couldn’t afford one if’n I did.”
“You talk to her at all?” Tanyth asked.
“Well, course. Tell her what she needs to do all the time.”
“No, not gee and haw and all that. Just talk to her.”
Nick leaned forward, restin’ his hands on the knees of his stained overalls. He wheezed out a few laughs before holding up his hand. “Sorry, ladies. Sorry. Jes’ struck me humorous. That’s what my wife used ta say all the time. ‘Jes’ talk ta me, Nick.’” He straightened up. “Di’n’t know what ta say to her and I sure don’ know what to say to Sarah here.”
“Just scratch her ear and tell her she’s a good girl. That’ll do for a start.” Gertie turned back to the cottage.
Nick watched her go, his mouth gaping open.
“Close yer mouth,” Gertie said without turning around. “You’ll catch flies that way. I’ll get yer cider.”
“We brung ya three good trunks,” Nick said. “Left ’em out by the cider mill.”
“That’s fine,” Gertie said and disappeared through the door, leaving Nick to look at Tanyth.
“You reckon she’s right?” Nick asked, jerking his head toward the cottage. “Sarah’s jes’ lonely?”
“I’m not much of an expert on horse flesh, but there’s nothin’ wrong with her as I can see. Legs are strong, coat’s in
good shape. Feet been well tended.” She smiled at Nick.
“Well, sure. I take good care of her.” Nick’s mouth screwed into a tight line for a moment. “That’s why I asked if’n there was somethin’ wrong. Get it fixed.”
“How about a dog?” Tanyth asked.
Nick shook his head back and forth a couple of times. “A dog, mum?”
“Yeah. Seems like a dog would be helpful ’round the camp, and she’d have a friend.” Tanyth patted the mule on her withers.
Nick scratched the side of his jaw with a couple of fingers. “Dog, huh? Might work, but where’m I gonna get a dog out here?”
Tanyth shook her head. “Can’t say. Jus’ think about it, and maybe next time you go back to Northport, you’ll be able to get one.”
Gertie came out of the cottage, a jug in each hand, her gnarled fingers hooked through the loop handles.
“Here ya go, Nick. Thanks for the wood.” She handed the cider to Nick who stashed it in Sarah’s packs.
“Thank ye kindly, mum. I’ll look for a dog, I will.”
“Come back around midsummer, and I’ll have some more cider for ya,” Gertie said.
“You need anythin’ special?” Nick asked.
“Nope. Got all I need right here.” She nodded at Tanyth.
Nick rubbed his fingers across his lips and nodded. Well, we can bring you some more wood, I s’pose.”
“That’d be fine, Nick,” Gertie said. “We can always use wood.”
Nick glanced up at the sun. “We best get movin’. Wanna be back in camp by sundown. Thank ya agin, mum.”
Gertie raised a hand in blessing and Nick headed back down the trail, Sarah’s lead in hand. Gertie completed her blessing, lips moving silently, just before he disappeared between the broad boles of the orchard.
“You knew he dropped off firewood,” Tanyth said.
“Yep. Not exactly huge sticks but three goodly pieces jes’ like he said. They’re green and’ll need some seasonin’ before we can burn ’em, but good enough.” She shrugged. “He’ll be back when them jugs is empty.”
Tanyth cocked her head and squinted at the old woman against the bright afternoon sun’s glare in the stony yard.
Gertie gave her a short laugh. “How’d I know?”
“Yeah. Hard to see much from inside the cave.”
“Depends on where yer eyes are, don’t it?” Gertie asked. She jerked her head at the lone spruce high on the ridge. “Sparrow hawk sits in that tree up there. Good eyes. She’s been watchin’ Nick and Sarah off and on since they came over the west ridge draggin’ the lumber.”
Tanyth raised a hand to shade her eyes and looked up at the tree. “You don’t need to be asleep to see?”
Gertie snorted.
Tanyth dropped her hand and shook her head. “’Course not. Sorry. Wasn’t thinkin’.”
“You can, too, ya know,” Gertie said.
“Never been able to before.”
Gertie shook her head. “You keep sayin’ that but it ain’t true.”
They stood in the warm sun. Somewhere up in the treetops a bird tweeted a few times.
“It ain’t,” Gertie said again.
In her mind, Tanyth found the memory of pain and blood. She saw the weird, disjointed vision of herself in the snow and her raven sore and battered from doing battle with the last of Birchwood’s thugs, alongside the other of Frank bursting through the snow-studded overgrowth, fear and anger in his eyes.
“It ain’t,” Tanyth said, her voice low.
“You got a gift. Time you started acceptin’ that.” Gertie smiled and waved a hand at the ridge. “See what you can see up there.”
“See the most if I walk up there.”
“And you’ll be most of the afternoon getting’ up and back. It’s a lot steeper than it looks from here and a lot farther away.”
Tanyth turned her gaze toward the lone spruce again. She looked hard, trying to see the small falcon that Gertie said was there.
“Just reach for her. She’s used to it by now,” Gertie said.
“How? I never ...” A wintery morning ran a blizzard through her memory. Frank had been overdue and she had been near beside herself, fearing the worst. She glanced over at Gertie. “Maybe I have.”
“Be surprisin’ if you hadn’t.”
“But I was asleep.”
“Make up your mind, woman. You either reached or you was asleep. Which was it?”
The words shocked down Tanyth’s spine and seemed to fizzle in the rocks beneath her boot heels. She turned her face toward the ridge again and closed her eyes. The sun burned against her lids, making the dark pulse with red blood. Her hands felt heavy at her sides and her fingers flexed, reaching for the iron-shod staff she carried everywhere. The staff which stood inside the cottage. She drew a deep breath through parted lips and blew it out through her nose, willing her mind to follow the breath onto the wind and up the ridge to the spruce.
She blinked her eyes and puffed her feathers. The warm sun beat on her back but the wind still cut. Not a beetle stirred on the ground beneath her as she shifted her weight from foot to foot. Food would be important soon.
Far below a man and his beast made their slow way around the end of the ridge. She’d watched them enter the valley and might watch them go. She swiveled her head to the right, looking down the long valley with its ragged plumes of steam rising into the cold air. Perhaps the hunting would be better there. She looked to the left and down into the orchard that sheltered behind the ridge. The pale flowers and young leaves added texture to the valley floor. She turned a little farther and saw more humans standing in front of the cave that wasn’t a cave. The white-haired one she recognized. A regular in her world. The other was new—
Tanyth gasped and stepped back, her eyes snapping open and then closed again, dazzled by the afternoon sun.
Gertie cackled a bit. “Told ya,” she said. “Now come on. We still got a lot of work to do today.”
Chapter Twenty-two:
The Old Knowledge
Inside the cluttered cottage, Gertie crossed to the hearth and tossed a couple of small sticks on the fire. She stood there, one arm resting on the mantel board, head bent as if gazing into the fire.
“Shall I make more tea?” Tanyth asked, stepping up beside her.
“No, not right now. A bit of bread and cheese wouldn’t be amiss. And one of those chilled jugs of cider?” She didn’t turn her head, just spoke into the fireplace. “Think you can find your way to the cold room?”
“Through the door, down the left path, second left, third door,” Tanyth said.
“You were payin’ attention,” Gertie smiled at her then. “How’re your legs?”
“I’m ready for food and drink, I think. They’re a bit rubbery.”
“That’s the gift price. You used some of your own energy to reach the bird. Longer you stayed, the more it woulda cost ya.” Gertie turned her face back to the fire. “You’ll get stronger, I bet.”
“I don’t remember payin’ that price before,” Tanyth said.
“Most of the time you were already in bed, weren’t ya?”
Tanyth shrugged one shoulder. “Yeah, I s’pose.”
“Cheese is on the bottom shelf, next to the onions. Bread’s just above it. We’ll need to bake some more tomorrow.”
Tanyth edged the stewpot closer to the fire with the toe of her boot. “Still a lot of stew left.”
Gertie nodded, her head barely moving. “Been simmerin’ there since last night. We’ll have to throw a little liquid in it when you get back.”
Tanyth took the hint and slipped through the carved door. When the door closed behind her, the light snuffed out and she stood alone in dark so thick it might have choked her. She reached with her right hand and found the lantern on the workbench there. A box of matches nearly skittered out of her grasp when she bumped it with questing fingers, but she managed to catch it, extract a match, and get it lit. After that, the lantern was easy.
/> Tanyth stuck off down the boardwalk and found the cold room without difficulty. While there, she took a quick inventory of goods. She found smoked meats and fish, net bags of root crops, and even boxes of apples and pears. The room itself was not terribly large, perhaps half the size of her hut back in Ravenwood. Packed sand made up the floor and the stone walls behind the shelving showed no tool marks except at the corners where the cavern had been squared off a bit. The one wall without shelves looked like layers of dirt and ice that extended from the floor to the ceiling. Her bare hand on it confirmed that it seemed to be one huge block of ice. She flecked a blackened stick from the ice face with her fingernail. It still showed the rough bark of a spruce tip, and a couple of the short, flattened spruce needles still hung on the twig.
With a shrug she grabbed a small log of the white goat cheese and a couple of the flattened loaves of bread. She also snatched a short hunk of sausage from one of the boxes, slicing the end off a link with her belt knife. Then taking up the stone lantern, she made her way back through the tunnels with her bounty cradled in one arm.
“Find anything interestin’?” Gertie asked from the hearth, apparently unmoved since Tanyth left her.
“Lots. I got a good look at the cold room. Where’s that ice come from?”
“That’s one of the big questions, ain’t it?” Gertie grinned. “Cuttin’ board over on the sideboard.”
“I found a spruce twig embedded in it. It looks like layers of snow,” Tanyth said, piling the food onto the cutting board and crossing to the table.
“I ’spect it was at one time.” She jerked her head in the direction of the mountain. “My guess is there’s some kinda crack or somethin’ in the mountain up there. Snow falls into it in the winter and it’s shaded from the midday sun in summer so it don’t melt, then next year it gets more snow. After a few hundred years, I ’spect it builds up.”
“Big crack,” Tanyth said.
“Big mountain. Hard to understand just how big from down here.”
“The bones of the earth,” Tanyth said, her voice a quiet murmur against the crackling in the hearth.
“We got it all here,” Gertie said. “Bones, breath, fire, and blood. All right here in this valley.”
The Hermit of Lammas Wood Page 13