The Hermit of Lammas Wood

by Nathan Lowell

  “There’s plenty of food and uniforms in the mine, sir,” Arnold said. “We should get the cooks movin’ on makin’ breakfast, too.”

  Marong smiled at the big man, who grinned back and looked down to his shoes at the attention. “Good suggestion. You wanna round everybody up and get them assembled in there. I assume there’s some kind of dining hall?”

  “Yes, sir,” Arnold said.

  “Excellent. Get everybody there. Ask the cooks to make breakfast, and we’ll hash out some arrangements. I suppose we need somebody who can write to record all this.” He looked to Fred, who shook his head.

  Jimmy spoke up. “I’d be happy to, sir. I learned my letters and numbers afore I went to sea. If we can find somethin’ to write on and somethin’ to write with.”

  “There’s plenty of ledger books and quills in the manager’s office, Jimmy. I can show ya where,” Arnold said.

  “Very good then,” Marong said. “Arnold, if you and Jimmy would get everybody sheltered and the cooks working?”

  “Yes, sir,” they said and ran down the landing, Jimmy shouting orders and Arnold just looking big.

  Marong laughed. “Nobody’ll give them much guff, I wager.”

  Fred smiled. “No, sir, they won’t.”

  Marong looked Fred. “How’s the ankle?”

  “Still sore, sir, but it’s healin’ pretty quick.”

  “You seem to know your way around here pretty well. Fancy being my second in command?”

  “Me, sir? There’s lots o’ men senior to me.”

  “I’m sure there are, but you’re here. You came back when you didn’t need to. We’re going to have to work together to make this happen. Right now we’ve got a mess to clean up, people to feed and shelter, and a gold mine to inventory. You know most of these guards, don’t you?”

  “Oh, aye, sir. There never was many green shirts. I know most of ’em. Not sure how many survived or how many might still be headin’ for greener pastures.”

  “Well, you want the job?”

  “Yes, sir. Thank you, sir.”

  “You don’t wanna give it to her?” Tanyth asked, nodding her head at Rebecca.

  The young woman stood leaning on her long bow, arrows in the quiver on her back, watching Arnold and Jimmy forming up the shivering, frightened men.

  “She looks right at home, don’t she?” Gertie asked.

  “Aye, she does,” Tanyth said.

  “I would but for two things,” Marong said. “First, I don’t believe in nepotism. She deserves better. Second, she’s got another path to follow. I see that now.”

  Tanyth saw the look in his eye and offered a smile. “You might wanna tell her that before you forget or she starts down that path without ya.”

  He cast a glance at Tanyth, and his lips curled up in a wan smile. “Mother Fairport, that’s very good advice. If you ladies will excuse me?”

  Tanyth and Gertie both nodded. Marong strolled down the landing, stepping aside to let the guards and ex-slaves pass. He took his daughter aside, the pride in his face shining bright in the dim light of dawn.

  “Any loose ends here?” Tanyth asked, glancing at Gertie.

  “Oh, prob’ly. Marong’s a good man. He’ll see to ’em.”

  “What about Rebecca?”

  “What about her?” Gertie asked.

  “She needs to get back to Northport, don’t she?”

  “Yeah, prob’ly. There’s a bit of time before that Groves boy gets back.”

  Tanyth turned to stare at Gertie. “That Groves boy?”

  “Yeah, Saul’s son. Benjamin?”

  “For a hermit you sure know a lot of people.”

  Gertie shrugged. “Trees. Terrible gossips.”

  Tanyth snickered.

  “’Sides, that one’s got more to do, I expect. Lots more.”

  “More hermit magic?” Tanyth asked.

  “Well, if you count common sense as hermit magic, I s’pose so.”

  “How’d ya figger that?”

  Gertie turned her face toward Tanyth. “Easy. Bein’ around you for a year. You don’t know the effect you have on people.”

  Tanyth snorted. “Right now the effect I’d have on most people is disgust. I’ve been wearing the same clothes for a week, and I would happily wrestle a bear for a hot bath.”

  Gertie laughed. “Most o’ these men been wearing the same clothes for a year. I s’pect you smell just fine to them.”

  Tanyth watched the ex-slaves march back into the mine. “Could you do it?” she asked.

  “Do what, dearie?”

  “March back in. After what they been through? To get outside at last, only to turn around and go back?”

  Gertie nodded. “Oh, sure. It’s shelter and food. There’s hope. Nobody’s swinging whips or clubs. The green shirts look more shaken than the men who were slaves, I reckon.”

  Tanyth noticed it then. The tentative stances, the uneasy smiles. “There’ll be some repercussions. Dark tunnels. Late night visits.”

  Gertis sighed. “Prob’ly. Richard’ll have to deal with it.”

  “Richard’ll have to deal with what?” Marong asked striding back along the stones, Rebecca walking along side.

  “The retribution some of them guards are gonna be on the wrong end of,” Gertie said.

  Marong’s mouth twisted like he smelled something vile and he sighed. “Probably.” He shook his head and sighed again, suddenly fascinated by the toe of his boot. “Can’t say I’d blame ’em.”

  Tanyth pursed her lips and glanced up at the sky. “I s’pect most o’ the guards who’d be most deservin’ have already left. There was an awful lot of green shirts movin’ through the forest last night. I don’t imagine many of ’em will be back to bother.”

  Richard scratched his beard and nodded. “I’ll hope you’re right, mum, but I’ll plan for the worst, too.”

  Rebecca stepped forward. “What’ll you do now, mum?”

  “Gertie and me’ll head back to the cottage, I s’pect. A good place for two old ladies to stay out o’ trouble.”

  Gertie laughed. “Just you wait, dearie. I still haven’t showed ya the hot springs.”

  Tanyth groaned. The thought of sluicing off a week’s worth of grime and about forty pounds of rock dust sounded heavenly. “How far is it? Can we be there tonight?”

  Gertie shook her head. “Sorry, dearie. We ain’t leavin’ here until you and me get a good night’s sleep and maybe some hot food.”

  Tanyth’s stomach rumbled loud enough for them all to hear, even over the burbling of the new river at the end of the cove.

  “Let’s go see what’s for breakfast, shall we?” Marong said, waving his arm in invitation as if to a palace instead of a half-collapsed hole in the ground.

  “Thought you’d never ask, Richard,” Gertie said. She rose and took his arm. They trailed the men along the slick rocks toward the cave.

  “You need a hand, mum?” Rebecca said, offering her arm for support.

  Tanyth looked at the young woman, at her soot-streaked face, hair tied back out of the way. Her eyes had seen too much, perhaps, but they were a woman’s eyes now. Tanyth reached for her arm and levered herself off the rock. She held on to Rebecca with both hands and tottered along on legs that held more rubber than bone.

  “Thank you, my dear.”

  “You’re welcome, mum. Can I ask you a question?”

  They ambled well behind Gertie and Marong.

  “Long’s it doesn’t need a lot of answer. I’m still a bit wobbly.”

  Rebecca patted Tanyth’s hand where it rested on her forearm. “Mum, after that, I’m s’prised you’re vertical at all. You were out for three days after that storm, comin’ out here.”

  Tanyth grunted. “Yeah, well. What’s your question, my dear?”

  “What now?” she asked. “You and Gertie can’t be just goin’ back to the cottage, can you?”

  Tanyth looked up at her earnest face, Rebecca’s gaze searching hers as if trying t
o read the future in the lines there. “I learned a lot already, my dear. Trees gossip, you know, and they have cruel roots.”

  “I didn’t know that, mum.” Rebecca’s careful tone made Tanyth laugh loud enough to make Gertie and Marong look back over their shoulders.

  “I got a lot more to do. I think I’d like to stay with Gertie for a bit. Through next winter anyway. Should be plenty o’ time to get my notes together and write down all the herb lore I’ve collected.”

  “That sounds like a good plan, mum.”

  “You’ve got another road to travel, my dear,” Tanyth said, leaning in to speak quietly. “And if you’re willin’, I’d like ya to help me out a bit before you go.”

  “Of course, mum, how can I help?”

  “You and Penny seem to hit it off right well.”

  “Oh, aye. She’s a pip, Penny is. We had a good time traveling together. Even though I was kinda sad to be leavin’ ya, it was still fun to be with her.”

  “Did you find any gold nuggets on the way back?”

  “Oh, yeah. Penny said I was lucky. We found a small bag full. Maybe half a pound of it. Penny sent it off to Kleesport to be sold.”

  “You’ll be set up and quite independent, then, won’t ya?”

  “I will. Penny said I can stay with her, but Perry and Amanda want me to stay with them and help with the dining room in the evenings.”

  “What do you want to do, my dear?”

  Rebecca fingered the bow string that ran across her chest. “I think I’d like to spend more time in the woods. It’s almost like magic out here. Before, down in Ravenwood, it was nice, but here the mountains are huge and they’re right close. The woods are full of game. The rivers have more fish than I’ve ever seen. Including at the fishmongers’.”

  “What’ll you do out there in the forest?”

  “I don’t know, mum. Do I need to do anything?”

  “Might be. Maybe not.”

  “Well, there’s always looking for more gold. I s’pect there’ll be a lot more people up here once word of the gold mine gets back to Kleesport.”

  “I s’pect you’re right.”

  “Why do ya ask, mum?”

  “Well, I’d take it as a kindness if you’d plan to ramble between town and the cottage a couple times a month.” Tanyth looked into Rebecca’s eyes. “I’d like ta stock up on tea for the winter, and I don’t know how much paper and ink Gertie has squirreled away. Seems like the woman has everything somewhere.”

  “Except tea.”

  “Yeah.” Tanyth sighed, “And I miss my teapot.”

  “The white china one you left in Ravenwood?”

  “Yeah. Left it on the mantel in Mother Alderton’s hut. Didn’t expect Gertie wouldn’t have one.”

  “You know that’s Mother Fairport’s hut now, don’t ya?” Rebecca said, the lilt of humor tinting her voice.

  Tanyth laughed and leaned on the young woman’s strong arm. “Prob’ly.”

  “So, you’re askin’ if I’ll be a courier for ya for the summer? Izzat it?” Rebecca asked.

  “Yeah. Maybe you and Penny can come out when she’s got a break between births or somethin’.”

  “I think I’d like that. I can check up on ya.”

  “Scamp, and here I was planning to use it to check up on you.”

  Rebecca patted her hand again. “We’ll check up on each other, mum.”

  Tanyth hugged Rebecca’s arm. “That we will, my dear. That we will.”

  They finally made it to the entrance to the cave and made their way underground, leaving the cascading river bubbling happily in its new channel.

  Chapter Forty-four:

  More Gossip

  Tanyth found a peace in the tiny garden that fed a part of her she hadn’t known was hungry. The long trail back from the south took nearly a week of slow travel. Gertie seemed in no hurry to return to her goats, and Rebecca delighted in each new vista. Tanyth’s strength returned a little more each day. They even cut a length of oak from the thick stands to the south to replace the staff that she had lost. The closer they drew to the Valley of a Thousand Smokes, the greater the sense of peace filling her.

  Gertie kept her promise and showed Tanyth the hot spring, fed by a trickle of cold water inside the mountain. The hot water and quiet peace drew the last of the pain from Tanyth’s exhausted body, and restored her.

  Three days after returning, Tanyth felt strong enough to take up a spade and turn several small plots of soil beside the cottage to plant her carefully gathered seeds. She surveyed her handiwork daily and drew a quiet pleasure as the seedlings thrived under the high country sun. As the solstice approached, she began making notes about what other seeds she needed to round out the collection.

  A breeze rustled the leaves in the ancient trees. Change is coming.

  Tanyth laughed quietly and plucked a fledgling weed from the new chives. The wind always said change was coming.

  A swirl in the wind sent a chill down her back, and she looked up to the snow-capped massifs that surrounded the head of the valley. The winds dropping down from the heights often brought the icy reminders, even on the warmest days.

  Good-bye.

  The chill wind rattled the branches in the sudden gust. Tanyth blinked back a sudden fear even as she scrambled to her feet. The treetops shook and bobbed and the sighing leaves repeated the message.

  Good-bye.

  “No,” she said and scrambled to her feet. “No.”

  A few steps found her in the snug cottage, Gertie’s journal on the polished tabletop, her heavy mug beside it.

  Good-bye.

  She turned to see the old woman stretched out on her cot, fully dressed.

  “No!” Tanyth knelt on the hard stone floor beside the cot, holding the gnarled fingers of the last of the old witch woman as they grew cold. “No,” she said, her tear-choked whisper barely louder than the wind in the trees.

  Good-bye. Good-bye. Good-bye.

  The gust blew itself out after a time. Tanyth levered herself up from the floor, groaning as her knees straightened painfully after kneeling on hard, cold stone.

  She crossed to the table and ran a finger across the page where Gertie had made her last entry—the letters overly large, and the ink sometimes blotted.

  With these words my tale comes to an end, but as in so many things, each end sows the seeds of a new beginning. My journey draws to its final destination as all must. This body grows tired and heavy. I join my cold sisters in the sure belief that my time here leaves the world better than when I came and that the solstice will see a new hermit to keep the old knowledge.

  I call on the Guardian of the North to lend her the strength of the stones that surround us and keep her safe.

  I call on the Guardian of the East to give her the gift of the winds that bring the freshness of spring, the fullness of summer, the ripe harvest of fall, and the clean renewal of winter each in their turns.

  I call on the Guardian of the South to bless her with the fire of life, to keep her passion alive even as she enters the autumn of her days.

  I call on the Guardian of the West to wash her in the waters of renewal, that her sense of wonder might never leave her.

  I ask in the names of the All-Mother and the All-Father, guard and protect, nurture and support the Hermit of Lammas Wood.

  So mote it be.

  Tanyth sat in Gertie’s chair and let the tears flow down her cheeks unheeded until the clatter of hooves on the stones outside drew her back to the world. The delicate bleats of the goats reminded her that she had things to do, that the world still pulsed with life. She closed Gertie’s journal and rose from the table.

  She glanced once more at the still figure on the cot and stepped out into the afternoon sun. She’d have to honor her friend, but first she needed to see about getting the milk out of the goats and into the bucket.

  The does nuzzled her hands and butted her gently. “Patience, ladies. Been a long time since I’ve been under a goat.”
She grabbed the stool from beside the door and placed it on a solid looking bit of rock. “Hope I remember how this works.”

  The does didn’t seem to mind her lack of expertise one whit.

  Tanyth straightened from her labors and stretched her back, glancing into the bucket at the warm, frothy milk and smiling. She’d never be able to see the goats without remembering the feisty old woman who’d gentled them to her touch. As she gazed around the small yard and out into the orchard beyond, she saw evidence of Gertie’s hand and heard her voice in her heart.

  Her eyes started to tear up again, but she fought back as figures stepped from the shadows on the path and into the sunlight.

  “Rebecca!” Tanyth said, her voice echoing from the stony faces around her. “I didn’t expect you back so soon.”

  “I’ve brought company,” she said. “I hope you don’t mind.”

  A gust shook the tree tops. Change is coming.

  Tanyth laughed. “Some things never change,” she muttered.

  “What’s that, mum?” Rebecca asked.

  “Who’d you bring?” Tanyth asked in return.

  A tall man wearing a leather vest and a broad-brimmed hat stepped out of the trees. Tanyth’s voice caught in her throat.

  “Howdy,” Frank said. “Thought I’d come see how you was doin’.”

  “Frank.” It was the only word she could think of to say. “Frank.”

  Rebecca laughed, her merry peals echoing around the mountains. “First time I ever seen you speechless, mum.”

  A moment later Tanyth hugged him as if her life might pound out of her chest if she didn’t. She reveled in the strong arms that wrapped her in return, and for long moments nothing else mattered.

  “I brought you something,” Frank said.

  She pushed back and looked up into his rugged face. She traced his cheekbone with fingertips. “Indeed you did.”

  “No, I mean something else,” he said. He shucked off his pack and pulled a bunched sweater off the top of it. He held it out to her.

  “A sweater? You came all this way to bring me a sweater?” The absurdity of it threatened to send her off in giggles.

  “Take it,” he said, thrusting it into her hands.