by David Hodges
“I do, every day.”
“Can I see?” She got up and handed him her wooden baton. “Please? Just a few strokes.”
He took the baton and walked over to the pell where he took a fighting stance.
Hazel realized the baton was in his left hand. “Are you a lefty?”
“Not always,” he replied with a grin. He struck the pell with an explosive yet elegant swing. Before the echo of wood cracking against wood faded, he had struck the pell again from the opposite side. Hazel could barely see the baton. He swung it a third time and it shattered into a spray of splinters. “Sorry. We’ll get another one,” he said.
Hazel smiled. “Were you showing off for me?”
He smiled and shook his head. “Would’ve broken it on the first strike. Come on.”
Hazel followed Faron into the armory where he retrieved a pair of real, metal swords. One was the shape and size of Crúbail, but much less elegant in it’s design and lacking any Fuil.
He handed Hazel the sword. She could see plainly that it’s blade was dull.
“You’ll start using this,” said Faron.
“I’m sure a baton is fine. I don’t think I’ll have to worry about breaking one.”
“It’s for sparring.” Faron went to a rack and pulled off a pair of thick vests and masks like the ones she had seen Ulric and Tod practicing with.
“I won’t be letting you swing one of these at me,” said Hazel.
“Won’t be me, I’ve got you a sparring partner.” Faron led Hazel back out to the ring where she saw Coinín standing.
“Good afternoon, Faron, Hazel,” he said as they approached him.
“Thank you for coming, Coinín,” said Faron as he handed him a sword and the protective equipment.
“We’re using metal?” asked Coinín.
Faron nodded.
“Don’t worry, Hazel. I’ll take it easy on you,” said Coinín.
The words did little to comfort her. She donned the equipment then stood near Coinín.
Faron said, “Alright, Hazel. For now, don’t worry about attacking. I want you to parry the blows. Just use the same moves you’ve been practicing.” Faron stepped back. “Begin.”
Coinín approached Hazel with his sword up and swung to her left. She blocked the strike easily.
“Harder than that Coinín,” said Faron.
Coinín shook his head and said, “It’s his fault if I hurt you.”
Hazel smiled. “No, it’s mine.”
Coinín swung hard toward her right.
She parried hard and met his sword with a loud clang.
“Not bad,” said Coinín, surprised.
“String a few strikes together,” said Faron.
Coinín did as he was told, swinging harder. Hazel met each of his methodical attacks. He stopped after the fifth stroke.
Faron said, “Faster. Don’t hold back, Coinín. Try to tag her.”
“If you insist.” He looked to Hazel. “I’ll go for your vest, it won’t hurt too bad.”
Hazel readied herself.
Coinín swung at her again and again, piecing the strikes together tightly. She had little time to think between each attack. She focused only on his blade, reacting to meet it as quickly as she could.
Coinín stopped as his strikes began to slow. “Blimey!” He looked to Faron. “She’s fast. I thought I had her a few times.”
“You’re form is sound, Hazel, and you do indeed have a quick arm but that can hold you back if you rely on speed alone. You were exposed several times because you didn’t use the most efficient parries. Against a faster opponent you would’ve been hit. Even a slower opponent can capitalize on your fatigue in a long bout. You can’t think only about the strike your blocking, you need to think a step ahead. It’s as much mental as it is physical.” Faron looked to Coinín. “I want you to go through all of the parries and all of the attacks in two stroke combinations.”
“All of them?” asked Coinín.
“Yes, at full speed.”
Hazel and Coinín went through the seemingly endless combinations as Faron critiqued them. Hazel was completely exhausted. She was drenched in sweat despite the cool air.
Coinín was faring better than her and he knocked her sword out of her hand. He walked over to it and picked it up for her while she caught her breath.
Faron said, “That’s enough for today. We’ll meet again tomorrow, same time.”
After Hazel put away the equipment in the armory, she went to her horse. Just after she mounted, she noticed Elisedd riding toward her. She was surprised to see him. It was too early for dinner, but she was glad nonetheless.
He said, “Good afternoon, Hazel. I know you weren’t expecting me yet, but I thought we could go for a ride before dinner.”
“That sounds nice, but I’m a bit of a mess right now.”
“We can ride to your flat first if you’d like to change.”
“Aye, let’s do that.” As they rode toward the village center Hazel asked, “Do you train at the armory?”
Elisedd laughed. “No. It’s reserved for the Laochra. I’d make a fool of myself there.”
Hazel had assumed all of the Athraithe received the same training.
“Why are they training me? I’m not a guard.”
“You’re Pishyakon, one of the Creachadóir. You all receive combat training, and most join the Laochra.”
“Creachadóir?”
“They didn’t explain?”
Hazel shook her head.
“There are various Cineáls that make up the Creachadóir, Éan, the bird, Pishyakon, the cat, Mathúin, the bear and Mactíre, the wolf... they’re broad labels. All of the animals they represent are predators and long before Talamh was unified, they held some of the most revered Athraithe settlements throughout Europe.”
“Could you be a Laochra if you wanted?”
Elisedd smiled. “No. It’s steeped in tradition. Only a small portion of the Athraithe make up the Creachadóir, only they have been honored with the title Laochra.”
“Seems a bit unfair.”
“Careful who you say that to, it’s a touchy subject. It’s really not so bad. We all have our places here.”
After Hazel put on some fresh clothing, she rode with Elisedd out of the village center onto a riverside trail. “I don’t think I’ve been this direction.”
“Probably not, no one lives up this way. It’s the most beautiful part of Talamh. Seems like you’ve been put to work since you got here. I thought you could use a more relaxed tour of Talamh.”
Sunlight shimmered off the rushing water, and its sound mixed in with bird songs that rang through the forest. Leaves were falling with the gentle breeze, some of them were being carried downstream on top of the water.
“This trail continues alongside the river all the way to the edge of Talamh,” said Elisedd.
They continued forward as Hazel caught Elisedd up on her lessons over the past few days. Hazel was midsentence when Elisedd stopped and pointed ahead.
She looked up to see an enormous elk standing in the middle of the trail. He stared at them for a moment, then lumbered straight toward them. He was dark brown with a wide set of broad, flattened antlers that lacked the extensive branching Hazel was used to seeing in the red deer in Leicestershire.
The horses did not seem at all startled by him. He brought his nose an inch away from Elisedd’s horse. The horse proceeded to tickle the elk’s bulbous nose with his fuzzy lips until the moose sneezed loudly. Hazel and Elisedd shared a laugh. They continued down the trail, and over the course of half an hour, Hazel spotted a myriad of animals scurrying about. Squirrels, shrews, mice, and hares, none of them seemed to be startled by their presence. They continued until Hazel noticed a snake slithering across the trail. She stopped and let out a small gasp.
“He’s harmless,” said Elisedd.
“Really?”
“Well not exactly, he’s a viper, but they keep to themselves.”
&nb
sp; The snake paused and looked toward her, then continued forward.
“You can see why unifying Talamh was not an easy feat,” said Elisedd.
“I suppose a viper and a vole aren’t the best of friends,” Hazel replied.
He smiled. “There’s that, but more broadly, people are frightened by the unfamiliar. They focus on differences rather than similarities. It was Ayalon’s ancestors... yours, who helped emphasize how important it was to do the opposite. We aren’t defined by our Cineáls, we’re all Athraithe, all human.”
They continued down the trail until they reached the edge of the woods where they reached an expansive pasture. Green grass extended as far as Hazel could see. In the distance, she could make out a herd of large brown animals. They looked like they could be cattle. She followed Elisedd further into the pasture, staying along the river until they were close enough to make out the herd. Hazel realized that they were all massive bulls, each of them with pronounced horns.
Elisedd led her toward them slowly.
Hazel asked, “Where are the cows?”
“These aren’t domesticated cattle, they’re wild aurochs. The male and female herds stay separate.”
“I’ve never heard of them.”
“They’re the ancestors of the cattle you’re used to.”
As Hazel got closer, she realized the aurochs were at least twice the size of the dairy cows at home. Their heads were nearly level with her chest as she sat upright on her horse. They were powerfully built, their shoulder muscles were clearly visible under the sheen of their fur.
Elisedd said, “There aren’t any left outside of Talamh. The last were hunted centuries ago. Just like many of the animals here, they’re the last of their kind.”
Most of the aurochs were grazing or drinking from the river, though a pair of them were separated from the herd. They approached one another then slammed their heads together, locking their horns and wrestling, cords of muscle straining in their thick necks.
Hazel said, “Won’t they hurt each other?”
“They might, but it’s normal.”
They continued fighting until one of them stumbled off to the side, shook his head, then walked away in a daze.
Hazel and Elisedd continued riding along the river with the pasture at their side. As Hazel looked downstream toward the horizon, she realized that they were approaching some kind of steep drop off that spanned the entire length of the pasture. They rode closer to the edge and arrived at a stunning vista of rolling hills covered partly in forest and partly in swaths of green-brown grass and rocky outcrops. The river shot water off of the cliff down to a pond far below which flowed into a meandering river that was reflecting the afternoon sun.
“It’s beautiful,” said Hazel.
“This marks the edge of Talamh, though officially Ayalon’s estate extends a bit farther. Now that the quarry is closed, this is as far as anyone goes.”
“Was this entire cliff dug out?”
Elisedd nodded. “All the stonework in Talamh came from here... the walls, the roads, the buildings, we have reserves left for repairs but there hasn’t been any digging in years.”
Hazel noticed a pair of Laochra in the distance, not far from the river in each direction.
Elisedd said, “Normally there aren’t any posted here. Hopefully they don’t bother us. Come with me, I want to show you something.”
Hazel dismounted her horse and said, “Will the horses be okay here?”
Elisedd touched each of them softly. “Aye, they’ll wait.”
Hazel followed him toward the waterfall. She looked over the edge and saw a steep, narrow path that led down to a flat slab of rock about twenty feet below. As they began their descent, a voice called out, “Oi! What are you two doing down there?”
Elisedd shouted back, “I’m just showing her the falls, we’ll be back up.”
“We can’t let anyone leave the borders,” said the guard firmly.
“What are we gonna do? Climb down?”
“Fine. I’ll be waiting right here, if you’re not back up soon I’ll come looking for you.”
“We’ll just be a few minutes.”
Elisedd looked to Hazel and smiled. “Follow me.”
Hazel eased her way down the rocky path. The rocks were wet from the waterfall’s mist and she had to be careful not to lose her footing. Elisedd held her hand at a particularly treacherous spot and helped her down. When they got down to the flat slab of rock, Hazel saw that it extended into a large cavern. “How far does the cave go?”
“It’s actually an entryway to several mine shafts. They go all the way down to the bottom of the quarry. They’re all sealed or collapsed now though.”
Hazel followed Elisedd to the back of the waterfall where he took a seat.
“I come here to take my mind off of things. The fall can be entrancing and the view as well.”
“I see what you mean,” said Hazel as she lost herself in the view. The thick, but transparent, veil of water obscured the landscape below and the sky above but the way it absorbed and manipulated the light made the landscape more beautiful than it already was. The dampened sound of the water splashing far below added to the powerful yet serene ambience.
“The waterfall has a name, Deur an Talamh, the Tear of Talamh.”
“Sounds sad... any story behind it?”
“People tell different tales.”
Hazel spotted movement at the opposite edge of the waterfall. A small head with long ridged horns that curved backward peeked up over the rock. The animal hopped up effortlessly onto the ledge. “Is that a goat?”
Elisedd nodded. “An alpine ibex. They’re just about the only large animals that can get up and down the quarry face. They used to be used to transport equipment when the mines were still active.”
The ibex approached them and gave them each a sniff. He nibbled at Hazel’s hair, sending goose bumps down her back as she laughed. She scratched his chin the way her sheep at home liked. The ibex extended his head in pleasure, then he departed after a short while. Hazel watched in awe as the ibex leapt off the shear ledge.
Hazel felt Elisedd’s arm wrap around her shoulder as he slid closer toward her. “I’m glad you’re adjusting well here. I can’t imagine what it would be like to find all this out about yourself at once.”
Hazel felt her face getting hot. “Well, there are plenty of kind people here that have made it easier, like you. To be honest, I’ve always felt a bit out of place at home.”
“I know the feeling well,” Elisedd replied.
“Why is that?”
“I...” he sighed as he took his arm off her back. “I guess I’m different... in a way.”
“You are, and it’s a good thing you’re not caught up in yourself like most boys... and you’re not judgmental.”
“That’s not really what I mean. As for judgment, I suppose it’s what I fear myself.” He shook his head, “never mind all that.” He stood up and offered a hand for Hazel. “We should get going, don’t want to make that guard come snooping after us.”
Elisedd’s little brother was playing in the garden with the tiny shrews when they arrived for dinner. He looked to be feeding them worms. Inside, Elisedd’s mother was hard at work in the kitchen.
“Good evening, Mother, Hazel’s here.”
She turned and saw them, then dried her hands and came over to give Hazel a hug. “So happy to see you, Hazel. You’ve been through quite the ordeal. We thought a nice family dinner would do you well.”
“I think it will. Thank you for having me.”
“Let me help you, Mum. What do you need done?” said Elisedd.
“Oh, it’s no bother.”
“No, please, let us help,” said Hazel.
“Alright, if you really don’t mind. Elisedd why don’t you set the table. Hazel, the vegetable stew should be close to done, could you check on it?”
“Of course.”
As Elisedd began setting the table, Hazel checked
on a large pot of vegetables. There were carrots, onions, potatoes, turnips, celery, cabbage, and a variety of beans. Hazel checked a large piece of potato in the stew. It was soft and cooked all the way through. She turned to see Elisedd’s mother pulling a pair of roasted pheasants from the hearth. She began cutting the poultry onto a serving plate. Hazel said, “the stew looks ready. Do you have any other meat that needs to be prepared?”
“No, pet, just the pheasants. The bread ought to be ready. though. There are basket’s in that cupboard.” She gestured to the corner of the kitchen.
Hazel retrieved a basket and went to the oven where several loaves of golden, buttered bread were glistening. She put them in a basket and brought them to the table. As Elisedd finished setting the table, his mother said, “Alright, that should do it. Could you go get your father for me, he’s weaving.”
Elisedd turned to Hazel, “You should come see.”
Growing up, Hazel had seen plenty of spinning and weaving at home in the Taylor’s cottage, but she was curious to see the setup. Hazel followed Elisedd down to a dark basement. She said, “My family in Leicester has a sheep farm. Is it wool or cotton that your father weaves?”
Elisedd smiled. “Silk.” He knocked on a closed door.
Hazel thought she could hear a humming sound from behind it. It swung open, and Elisedd’s father appeared with his spectacles low on his nose. The room was dimly lit behind him. “Oh, Hazel, glad to see you. Is dinner ready?”
“Aye, but I wanted to show Hazel your weaving first,” replied Elisedd.
“Of course, come in.” He stepped out of the way and Hazel saw a wall behind him covered in spiders of all shapes and sizes. She jumped back and gasped, nearly screaming at the blanket of them.
“You didn’t warn her!” Elisedd’s father jabbed him on the shoulder.
Elisedd laughed. “I’m sorry, Hazel. I should’ve told you, I couldn’t resist.”
There was not a quarter inch of bare space. The spiders were moving quickly, giving the wall a fluid appearance. Hazel noticed what appeared to be a large loom on one wall of the room. Countless shiny, white strands were strung out along the loom. Spiders were falling from the top of the loom to the bottom, moving quickly in a coordinated manner.