The Hermit of Lammas Wood

by Nathan Lowell

  “It’ll take a lot of strength. Remember that storm?” She raised her shoulders and let them fall. “Dunno if you got enough to move the pile without killin’ yourself.”

  “If we don’t move it, Malloy gets away and we’re trapped in here to die,” Tanyth said.

  “Yeah. Prob’ly sums it up.”

  “Wait a minute,” Marong said. “What are you suggesting?”

  “Father, Mother Fairport has...a talent.”

  “Besides talking to trees?” he asked.

  “I don’t talk. I just listen,” Tanyth said, leaning her weight on her staff, feeling the iron bite into the tunnel floor.

  “Yes, Father. Besides communing with nature.” The young woman cast a glance in Gertie’s direction. “Mother Pinecrest was supposed to be her teacher, so I’m guessin’ she has a talent or two of her own.”

  “I’ve seen that one,” Marong said. “She talks to mice. I don’t see how mice can help.”

  “Your mother was right,” Gertie said. “You’re pig-headed.”

  “You knew my mother?” Marong asked, his jaw dropping.

  “He is, and he’s got the focus of a squirrel,” Rebecca said.

  Tanyth heard their words, but they seemed far away as she centered her entire being on the staff. Around her she felt the slow ebb and flow of the earth, heard the distant splash of wave against rock.

  “I’ll do it,” Tanyth said, eyes closed, head bowed. “Get away from the rocks. Get back into Malloy’s office where it’s safe.”

  “Safe? Safe from what?” Marong asked.

  “Sonny, you ask more stupid questions than Tanyth does,” Gertie said, scrambling down the pile as nimbly as she’d climbed it. “If this goes wrong, she may pull down the tunnel roof on top of everything. Herself included.”

  Tanyth focused on the staff and the power rising under her feet.

  “That’s preposterous,” Marong said.

  “Well, you stand there, then. I’m getting’ out of the way. When the rocks start flying, this is gonna be a poor place to be.”

  “What about her?” Marong asked, pointing at Tanyth.

  “You let her worry about herself, Father,” Rebecca said. “I’ve seen that woman do more amazin’ things than rattle a few rocks. We need to do what she says.” She hooked her bow over her shoulder and grabbed her father’s hand. “Come, Father. Let her work. She’ll need us after.”

  “Need us?”

  “Yeah,” Gertie said. “If the rocks don’t kill her, the power she’ll need might. We need to make sure that we stop Malloy if she manages to open the cave.”

  “Wait? She’s going to die?”

  “Shut up, Father. We don’t have time for this.” Rebecca looped her arm around one of Marong’s, and Gertie grabbed the other.

  “Come on. She might die if she tries this. She will die if we don’t get out. I’ll bet on the woman with the stick over the stick in the mud. Now move it.”

  Between them they pulled him away, and the trio disappeared down the side tunnel, their voices receding fast as Tanyth focused.

  She raised her closed eyes and felt for north, pivoting her body around the grounded staff. “I call upon the Guardian of the North, Keeper of the Stone, Bones of the Earth, to aid and protect me this day,” she said, her voice sounding muffled and small in the still cave. The taste of rock dust filled her mouth, and she tried to swallow it away as she turned to the east.

  “I call on the Guardian of the East, Keeper of Wind, Breath of the Earth, to aid and protect me this day.”

  She turned to face the south, her staff grinding against the powdered rock on the tunnel floor.

  “I call on the Guardian of the South, Keeper of Fire, Soul of the Earth, to aid and protect me this day.”

  She turned to face the west, hearing her own blood pounding in her ears, louder than anything else in the tunnel.

  “I call on the Guardian of the West, Keeper of Water, Blood of the Earth, to aid and protect me this day.”

  She completed her circle, facing north once more as the silence filled her ears.

  “In the name of the All-Mother, Keeper of Life, Sower of Seed, and in the name of the All-Father, Keeper of Void, Gatherer of Fruit, I ask your aid and protection this day. Lend the strength of stone, the power of wind, the passion of fire, and the clean presence of water to my purpose. So mote it be.”

  She raised her staff and tapped the floor.

  A hollow boom shuddered down the stone passage. Tanyth felt the vibrations through the soles of her boots and opened her eyes.

  She raised her staff once more and thrust the iron shoe against the pile of stones, striking a spark from one of the larger ones at the bottom.

  The pile shuddered with her strike, and the sound of grinding rock filled the tunnel. A tiny crack of light shone between the rocks at the top of the pile. The silver glow of moonlight gleamed a promise.

  She raised her staff again and again struck the stones at the bottom of the pile.

  The pile shifted and shook, rocks grinding against rocks and flowing downward and outward around her. The sliver of moonlight grew until Tanyth saw nearly a finger’s width of the moon sailing high in the sky.

  She also felt her arms growing leaden and her chest barely pulling air into her lungs. Gertie was right. She thrust the thought aside and raised her staff for what had to be the last time. It quivered in her hands, the moonlight glinting off the stone-scarred iron at the foot. With all her might, she struck the rock a final time–

  And watched as the staff slipped off the rock, striking the stone floor of the tunnel and shattering in her hand.

  The hollow boom shook the floor and rattled the rocks, which fell away, rolling downhill away from the tunnel mouth in an avalanche of sharp-edged stones. The earth itself quaked, dropping more stones from the cliff face above. Tanyth saw rocks split away from the cliff face opposite. The rumbling, grinding roar spread like the sound of thunder on a summer’s eve.

  Her strength faded and her knees folded, dropping her to the rock-strewn floor. Her balance failing, she fell sideways, a small rock stabbing her shoulder as she did so. She rolled onto her back, the air refusing to enter her lungs and the light fading from her eyes. She saw the waning moon sailing above the cliff opposite, completing another voyage across the face of night.

  Then she saw no more.

  Chapter Forty-three:

  New Plans

  The taste of rock dust filled her mouth, but the scent of sea air filled her nose. Tanyth pried her eyes open and saw Gertie’s wrinkled face smiling down on her.

  “If yer done lazin’ about, dearie, you might wanna get up and come see what you’ve done.”

  Tanyth’s gaze went to the sky outside, still dark with a smattering of bright stars. The friendly moon had disappeared, but ruddy light flickered against the cliffs opposite. She heard shouts echoing against the stone but couldn’t make out what they said.

  She rolled over, trying to avoid the sharpest edges, and got her knees under her. “We shoulda brought your canteen,” she said.

  “A little cider would taste good, wouldn’t it?” Gertie said by way of agreement. “Let’s see if we can get you up and out of the rocks, at any rate.”

  With the old woman’s help—and feeling rather aged herself—Tanyth pulled herself to her feet but found she needed to lean on Gertie far more than she wanted to.

  “Ah, I’ve got a few days left, dearie. You just lean on me, and we’ll be out in the air in a jiffy.”

  They shuffled their way through the shattered rock and dirt until Tanyth made out the source of the ruddy light. A schooner lay mostly engulfed in flames, crew bobbing in the water or swimming toward the banks where men in torn and filthy garb waited with hands outstretched to pull them up onto the rocks.

  Tanyth gave a weak laugh.

  What’s so funny?” Gertie asked.

  “Them. They gonna help the men who kept them slaves?”

  Gertie took in the scene. “Sa
ilors are sailors. I don’t think many of ’em would wish death by fire or water on any other.”

  They watched for a time, Tanyth picking out the tall figure of Richard Marong, his white hair shining in the darkness, hat lost somewhere in the melee. Behind him, standing on a rock with bow in hand and arrow nocked, Rebecca kept watch.

  “So her fire arrows worked,” Tanyth said.

  “Yep. First one took the main sail, second one took the aft.”

  “Malloy?”

  “Third one took him straight in the chest. He was prob’ly dead before he hit the deck.”

  “How’d they get out?” Tanyth waved a hand at the men in tatters.

  “Well, when the ground stopped shakin’, they was able to make a hole big enough to squeeze through at the mouth of the cave. Funny how fast men with picks and shovels and a will to live can move a bit of stone about.”

  Tanyth turned to survey the end of the bay for the first time. What had been a majestic cascade of water falling from the cliff’s edge now flowed in splashing ribbons down an incline of tumbled stones and soil.

  “Did I do that?” she asked.

  Gertie cackled. “Not hardly,” she said. “At least not all of it. Malloy’s charges did most of it. I won’t say you didn’t help it along, but I wasn’t out here to see, so I don’t really know.”

  Figures moved among the rocks and water. “Who’s up there?”

  Gertie shrugged. “Mouse isn’t much use that far away,” she said. “Normally I’d suggest you ask your owl, but that’s prob’ly a bad idea until you’ve had some rest and some food.”

  Tanyth gave another low laugh. “Rest would be good. Water would be good. Food would be good.” She ran a hand over her face, brushing away rock dust and spitting it out of her mouth. “The question I’m strugglin’ with is why I ain’t dead.”

  Gertie grinned. “I’m askin’ the same question. I s’pect the powers that be ain’t done with ya yet.”

  “You have these adventures all the time?” Tanyth waved her hand at the chaos around her.

  “Well, bein’ the hermit has mostly been borin’,” she said. “Cider, goats, playin’ with rocks. Keepin’ my journal up. This is the most excitement I’ve had so far, if you don’t count the blizzard five winters ago when I had eight goats, three trappers, and a mule all stayin’ in the cottage.”

  Tanyth glanced at the old woman and found her grinning back.

  “Took till spring to get the stink out, and it’s not something I’d like ta repeat.”

  “An’ this is?” Tanyth asked, finding her sense of humor appeared to be intact even if very little else seemed quite where it should be.

  “No,” Gertie said. “I’d be happy if this was a once-in-a-lifetime adventure, too.”

  Tanyth looked back up the bay and saw the figures were much closer. “I believe that’s Arnold,” she said, spotting the hulking, green-shirted figure picking his way down the slope. “Yeah, Fred’s hobbling on a crutch, and Jimmy’s helpin’.”

  “They was supposed to be goin’ the other direction at sun-up,” Gertie said. She grimaced and her forehead wrinkled in a frown. Her apparent pique evaporated a moment later. “Look like they have the packs with ’em?”

  “Arnold has at least one of them. Hard to tell in this light.”

  “If they brought the canteens, I’ll forgive ’em.”

  Tanyth chuckled and slumped back against the stone. “We still have to hike back to the cottage,” she said.

  “Prob’ly wait ’til we’ve had some food and sleep. I don’t know about you, but I’m draggin’. Good thing I’m an old lady and don’t need much sleep.”

  “Please. Don’t talk about sleep. My eyes keep tryin’ to close. The only thing keepin’ me awake is the sharp rock I’m sittin’ on.”

  Most of the crew had climbed up onto the rocks; Marong had them sitting in a row with their hands folded behind their necks. Rebecca kept an eye on them from a distance. A few stragglers heaved themselves over the wet and glistening stone to join their fellows. None of them seemed inclined to put up much of a struggle.

  “S’pose that ship’s gonna sink?” Gertie asked.

  “She’s ridin’ kinda low in the water.” Tanyth said. “I can feel the heat from here.”

  “Wonder how much gold is on it.”

  Above the cliffs, the sky turned pale and translucent in the pre-dawn while the ship continued to burn. As the day grew lighter, the morning breezes started blowing on-shore. The cliffs acted as a funnel, and in no time at all the faint onshore winds began shoving the flaming hulk back toward shore at the head of the bay. A yardarm gave way and crashed to the deck, scattering sparks and ashes into the air. The wind fanned the flames, and the fire’s roaring grew.

  “Hermit lady!” Arnold waved a hand in greeting as he approached.

  “Arnold, you’re s’posed to be heading north. What’re you doin’ back here?” Gertie asked.

  “Didn’t seem right to leave you to pick up the mess by yourself, mum. I tol’ Fred and Jimmy we should come help.”

  “I see they’re comin’ along, too,” Tanyth said.

  “They didn’t wanna,” Arnold said. “They said we was s’posed ta go north and so that’s what we should do. I told ’em I was comin’ and they could go north without me, or they could come with me and help.”

  “What changed their minds?” Tanyth asked.

  Arnold turned around and displayed his back. “I took the packs and headed this way. I figgered you’d need ’em, and with out ’em they couldn’t get very far.”

  Tanyth looked to where the two men still picked their way down the slope. “I see that worked.”

  “Yep. It did.”

  Gertie waved him over. “If there’s anything left in that canteen...?”

  “Oh, yes’m. Should be.” Arnold pulled the straps from his wide shoulders and dropped the packs on the stone. “We ate some of the food and drank some of the water, but there’s plenty left in the canteen.”

  Gertie grabbed her canteen and took a slow swallow of the cider before handing it to Tanyth. “That’ll put spring in your step again.”

  Tanyth sipped the sweet tang from the canteen and let it roll around her mouth a bit, washing the rock grit from between her teeth and moistening the parched tissues. “Oh, that’s delightful,” she said, handing the canteen back to Gertie. “I can only handle a little bit right now or I’ll be keelin’ over again.”

  Gertie laughed and patted her knee. “You earned it, dearie.”

  “What, the keelin’ over?” she asked.

  “Well, yeah, but I was thinkin’ more like restin’ up.”

  The crackling hull drifted deeper into the cove as the morning wind picked up. They watched it bump into the cliffs on the far side, the wind spinning the hull so the bow pointed at the pile of collapsed stone at the end of the cove. Fire had burned almost all the superstructure and licked the rails nearly to the waterline. As the wind gave the hulk more speed, the main deck collapsed into the hull, sending sheets of sparks and ash into the air.

  Fred hobbled over to them, Jimmy in tow. “That looks like Malloy’s ship,” he said.

  “It was,” Gertie said.

  “Was?”

  “He’s dead.”

  “So it’s over?” Jimmy asked.

  Richard Marong walked up the landing toward them, his steps measured and exhaustion writ on his sagging face. “All but the sweeping up.”

  “What’s goin’ ta happen to us, sir?” Fred asked.

  He took in a deep breath and looked around at the men on the landing, some in green shirts and black pants, others in the tattered remnants of whatever they’d been wearing when captured.

  “There’s probably going to be a hearing, but I’ll use my influence with the council to convene it in Northport.”

  Fred’s mouth tightened up and he sighed. “Can’t be helped, I s’pose.”

  “I’ll recommend that all of you get full pardons and immunity for whateve
r happened here,” Marong said. “The men who were made slaves were no less victims than you. The evil in this died on that ship.” He nodded at the burning hulk just now drifting up into shallow water. “There’s probably plenty of bloody-mindedness to go around. Any one who wants passage back to Kleesport, or anywhere else that might be home, I think I can arrange that.”

  A muffled krump sounded deep in the hull, and a blossom of black smoke bloomed just aft of the mainmast. The hull started heeling over almost immediately, the burning wood hissing as the cold water touched it. They watched as the hull rolled partway over and sank onto the rocky bottom. The small waves driven by the morning’s breeze crested where the curve of the hull lay just below the surface.

  “There should be enough we can recover from that wreck to pay reparations to the victims,” Marong said. “I suspect the council will convince the king to annex this cove to Kleesport. There’ll be jobs here for any who want one.”

  “A job, sir?” Fred asked. “Mining?”

  “Malloy was many things, but stupid wasn’t one of them,” Marong said. “I suspect he saw this cove as the perfect place to land stolen goods and sell them back. When they stumbled on the gold, he was quick to take advantage of the extra bodies that otherwise would have been fish bait. I think we can do better as administrators. I believe we can turn this tragedy into something positive.”

  “What about the garrison troops?” Tanyth asked.

  “That’s a matter for the King’s Own to decide. I suspect many of the men involved are trying to gain passage to somewhere far away right now.”

  “So what’re ya gonna do with them?” Gertie asked, jerking her chin in the direction of the soggy sailors shivering on the rocks.

  Marong cast them a long look and sighed. “Offer ’em the same deal, I suppose. Nobody’s going to gain from hanging a bunch of men who were as much prisoners as any slaves. Maybe we can salvage something from this, too.”

  “Well, if you’re not gonna kill ’em on purpose, might wanna let ’em get some shelter and dry clothes before you kill ’em by accident,” Gertie said.

  Marong started and stared at her for a moment. “Yes,” he said after a moment. “Of course, you’re right.”