A Stag in the Shadows

by S E Turner

  He sat up. 'What have you got to tell me?'

  She pushed herself into a seated position and faced him. She took his hand and kissed it.

  'I have only just found out myself, but I cannot keep secrets from you; and in light of everything I have learned recently, I truly believe that everyone has the right to know the truth. '

  His face suddenly went pale. 'What are you talking about Ajeya, what have you found out?'

  'I do hope I am about to do the right thing, and please trust that anything that happened in the past was to protect you.'

  'Ajeya, you must tell me.'

  She took in a large breath. I have a letter here; my mother helped yours to write it. I have agonised for days whether to give it to you or just burn it... your mother left it up to me whether to disclose its contents to you. But I have decided there should be no secrets between us.' She rummaged in her small pouch and pulled out the hand written pages. 'Here, take your time.'

  Dainn took the offering without taking his eyes off of Ajeya. For the first time in his life he was apprehensive, scared almost.

  'Please read it.'

  He smoothed open the crumpled pages and the first few words brought tears to his eyes.

  'My darling boy, my very precious son. No words can tell you how much I love you, and how I have protected you over the years. I am so very proud of you, the man you have become, and what you have achieved. No mother could be more proud – but I have harboured a secret which I need to share with you now, and I hope you read this letter to the very end, because then you might understand what I did and why I did it .

  My dear son, there is no easy way to say this, because Colom is not your real father; but another great man is. I was married to Thorne, the leader of the Giant's Claw. For years I tried to have a baby, and each one died. It was either still born, or I lost it in a pool of blood. When I gave birth to you, you were born with twisted legs, and I was told I would have to surrender you to the weeping caves for the spirits to take. The clan were very superstitious about such defects and considered it a terrible omen. But you were so strong, and bellowed like a stag – I just couldn't watch you die. So before they could take you from me, I ran away. I was very weak, and certainly older than I gave myself credit for; a much younger version of myself would have moved much faster and been far more nimble in any type of terrain; but creaking bones and stiff muscles added to the trauma of just giving birth, and made the journey nearly impossible.

  I remember opening my cloak to look down at you, I saw that you were sleeping peacefully and then covered you up again and braced the unforgiving wind and the unrelenting rain.....'

  Ajeya watched his eyes pool, and a tear fell down his cheek. He wiped it away and returned to his letter.

  '... I was looking over my shoulder at every turn, wondering when the scouts would catch up with me. I woke at every sound in the night and shivered at every movement in the day. But like a shadow I moved silently and saved you from certain death. '

  His eyes pooled again, he cleared them with the back of his hand.

  'I later discovered that it was because of your breech birth that I had a difficult delivery. You were not deformed, you were not born with a disfigurement. Your legs were twisted because of the pulling action to get you out. But no one knew that then, and I had no choice but to run away and keep on running till I found the Hill Fort Tribe. Colom found me; alone, exhausted and weak with fatigue. He took me in and raised you as his own from that day onward.

  As a young man, a hunting accident nearly killed him, and he was left with a terrible injury to his leg. He couldn't run or hunt, so he was banished from his clan. When he saw you he felt instant pity and made splints to correct your legs. But you were not born disfigured my precious boy; your legs might have righted themselves on their own, I do not know. But I do know that with Colom's intervention, you were certain to regain the strength in your limbs.'

  Dainn momentarily dropped the pages to his side and pinched the top of his nose with his fingers to stifle the weep. Ajeya went to him and rested a hand on his shoulder. She spoke to him about her own brush with death

  'It was your father, the great Thorne who spared my life after learning a terrible lesson. No doubt from memories of what happened to you. He never knew that you had survived. He never knew that he did indeed have a strong healthy son. He died never knowing the truth.'

  The weep could not be curtailed.

  'Why did no one tell me?' His voice was tiny.

  'I asked the same thing myself. But your mother never wanted you to know that you weren't wanted, she didn't want you to know that your own father would have left you to die in the weeping caves. She couldn't bear that. Rather like my mother; for years I thought that Hagen was my real father, she didn't want me to know that my own father could banish me to the wilderness because of a deformity.'

  He squeezed the hand on his shoulder. 'We have so much more in common than I thought.'

  She knew he was smiling now. 'Except that your father will be remembered as a great man...'

  He guided her round next to him and held her at his side. 'But my father is dead, Siri told me that he died after the attack on the clan for the killing games. I will never see my father. I can never stand in front of him and let him see the man that I have become.'

  Ajeya tucked her chin into a bow. She had no answers. Instead she removed the pendant that she had worn since she was a little girl. 'Your father gave this to me. I know that he would want you to have it.' She placed the amber necklet around his neck and kissed it.

  He held the small pendant in his paw of a hand. 'All these years I have admired this on you, never knowing from whence it had come.'

  'Your father gave it to me the day he realised what a mistake the ancient custom was. That so many babies had been left to die needlessly on a stone cold slab in the weeping caves. He could see from the broken wing within the pendant, that everything has a beauty. That imperfection is beauty within itself.'They both held that moment of thought.

  'Have you read the letter to the end?'

  He gave the last few pages to Ajeya and she read them out to him.

  'Two great men have been instrumental in your life my son, I do hope you can forgive the woman who tried to protect you and give you life. I have only ever wanted the very best for you. I love you with all my heart.'

  She wrapped her arms around him and they both wept before the bright full moon.

  The long hours of wakefulness had gritted his eyes, but he was still able to watch the room brighten into the start of another day. Beside him, Ajeya stirred, then rolled over. He eased himself out of bed and poured a cup of water, he sipped it slowly and stood by the window breathing in the dawn.

  'Are you alright?' Came her familiar tone.

  'Yes I am fine, but I think I should like to sit in the garden for a while, the fresh air will do me good.'

  'Of course, take your time my love.'

  The castle was still sleeping, he could practically feel it breathing in slumber. The early morning exposed newly constructed gossamer cobwebs, jewelled with pearls of dew, and the pulse of the earth began to rise in a delicate mist. There would be movement soon he thought, the cows would start lowing, the rooster would hail its call, and then the most peaceful time of day would be over. He nestled back in the throne of a chair and imagined what sort of conversation would have taken place with his father; did he look like him, was he as strong as his father, how would he have reacted if he embraced him as a son?

  As he sat in the garden with the morning birds singing, he heard a distant rumble of thunder beat like a drum, it was too far away to be of concern as it was travelling in the other direction, but it was a sound that was calling him home. He needed to go to the Giant's Claw, he needed to go back to his roots. Ataxata would have to wait. He knew that Ajeya would understand.

  Upstairs in her dressing room, a special blend of sweet herbs and meadow petals floated on the surface of the water, and cl
ung to her shoulders in delicate pools. Ajeya sank into the soft warmth of the large bath and breathed in the fragrance. How still and peaceful this was. The only other time she had felt like this was in the fairy glen; their small oasis, their garden of eden where they had lain with arms entwined, listening to the sweet sounds of nature. 'Oh how times change, why does life throw such things in its troubled path?' she sighed. 'Why can't things just stay the same?'

  She thought about Dainn and the turmoil he must be in. Her heart wept, but she had done the right thing. His own father had died without knowing the truth, she couldn't repeat history and keep it from him. Though she understood what he was going through more than anyone.

  She sank right under the water and let the warmth cover her entirely. Just for a moment. She knew that she didn't have long. She knew what he would want to do now. She knew that they had a journey to make that day.

  The royal seat in the palace of Ataxata would have to wait.

  Chapter Forty

  Their road was little more than a dirt track, worn down by the constant traffic of wheels, wagons and horses. It wound back and forth like a never ending serpent disappearing over the horizon, while small thickets of weed and other vegetation had been kept back by the human and animal presence. The land around was gentle enough, with pockets of woodland and fenced off meadows nudging gentle streams, and in the distance, the fast flowing rivers tumbled over brown stones, hugged by soft green moors and misty lagoons.

  'I am guessing mother would have gone through the wooded area over there, it looks much more sheltered and safe.'

  'Yes, I would think so, she would have been able to hide and forage for food in there. But this road has been formed over many years, it was probably all woodland and glades once upon a time.'

  'Yes,' said Dainn. 'This probably wasn't even here all those years ago. '

  'I would love to speak to your mother about it. It's an incredible story of instinct and survival.'

  He smiled fondly at her, feeling so lucky to have this incredible woman by his side. 'Much like you and your mother.'

  She smiled back, knowing that fate and destiny had brought them together. What a powerful force that was. It had the ability to carve out people's lives so meticulously and so intricately, that they came round in a full circle. Because now, here they were, going back to the place where it had all started for him, and the clan that gave her salvation. Both were feeling excited and apprehensive, for very different reasons.

  'Come on, let's get a move on, we have much to talk about when we get there, and I'm guessing you will want to see your father's grave first.'

  On the approach road they heard the clanging of hammers on anvils, the hissing of hot iron quenched in barrels of scummy water, the huff of pumping bellows, and the good-natured banter amongst apprentices and journeymen. There was a time in the not too distant past, that this small village would have been shoeing horses, repairing farm equipment, fashioning cookware and mending huts. Now though, since the horrific attacks on the clans, the craftsmen had devoted all their time to the manufacture of swords, shields, knives and armour.

  They stopped to look at a crate of newly fashioned swords, each one burnished and oiled to perfection, with its edges ground to a bright silver line. One young apprentice was polishing the metal with an oilcloth, shining it so brightly that you could see the sparks from the sharpening wheel reflected in the steel. Worryingly, a small child, who had managed to break free from his mother stood entranced by the bright orange shower, and moved in to get a closer look. But it was far too risky and Ajeya nudged her horse to break his path. He ran off crying to his mother.

  'Better to be safe than sorry,' she winked to Dainn.

  Hearing the commotion, a familiar face came over. Old faded breeches rested on his hips, and a scarred leather apron hung below his knees. It was Siri, sporting a shaved head and an unruly beard.

  'Dainn, my dear friend, what are you doing here?' Siri clicked his fingers at a young boy. Small hands took the reins as Dainn and Ajeya jumped down from their mounts.

  He carried on speaking before Dainn could explain his impromptu visit.

  'May the gods preserve us, in all my days, I never expected to see you in these neck of the woods. I had heard you were bound for greater things.'

  'News travel fast it seems.' Dainn smiled.

  'It certainly does old man, and can I assume that this is your good lady wife?'

  'You most certainly can. Siri, this is my wife Ajeya. But she is no stranger to these parts, she was here with her mother when you were a mere boy.'

  'Yes I seem to remember that.' Siri played with his beard as a frown appeared from reminiscing. 'A long time ago, and I can't remember it very well, but I do know that many things changed after you left.'

  Ajeya smiled proudly, and her heart ached as she looked around. The memory of one dear friend prompted her to speak. 'Is Ukaleq still here?'

  'That she is Ajeya, she is very old and frail now, she never comes out of her hut, but she is happy to sit there drinking her potions and tending her fire.'

  'May I go and see her?'

  'Of course you can; here, I will take you there myself.'

  The journey to Ukaleq's home was a short one. Ajeya remembered it as miles away from anywhere, but to a young child, everything is bigger, further away and infinite. Siri was pointing things out to Dainn and introducing folk; some even appeared to recognise him, but the searching look on their faces suggested they should ignore the preposterous notion. They would all know soon enough he thought.

  The small hut was as ancient as Ukaleq herself, with evidence of repair on the roof and around the entrance. A thin wisp of warm smoke rose through the chimney, further evidence of old age on this warm summer evening in June. Siri called out respectfully to the occupant, and held the hide back to allow the three guests inside.

  The dimly lit room was instantly awash with daylight and a small hunched figure looked up. It smelled of herbs and woodsmoke, and the dull glimmer of pots and vials reflected the meagre fire smouldering in front of them. The small shapeless figure squinted her eyes and frowned. Ajeya went over to her and instantly fell to her knees. A light beamed from a small window and lit up Ajeya's face. The old woman reached out and looked into her eyes... she frowned again and looked up at Siri. He seemed to understand the unasked question and nodded. She focused again on the young woman looking up at her with adoring eyes.

  'I recognise this face. I know you.' Her voice was old and frail.

  'You should do, dear Ukaleq, you saved my mother when Hagen brought us here, and you nursed me back to health.'

  The memory fired up.

  'Ajeya... is that you?'

  Ajeya caressed the small gnarled hand. 'It is, my dear friend, it is me.' To wipe away the tears she would have to let go of the hand. So the tears flowed and she sniffed back her runny nose. 'I knew you would recognise me.'

  The paper thin skin creased into a smile.

  'I could never forget this face, it is the most beautiful face, and one which changed an ancient tradition.' Ajeya dropped her head, but Ukaleq lifted it up again. 'So beautiful... just like your mother.' She looked at her thoughtfully. 'I dreamed of you so often. So many times you came into my thoughts. I saw a knife... I saw it touch your face... I heard you cry out... I saw someone near you... I saw it happen...'

  'Please, don't worry yourself Ukaleq.' Ajeya stroked her hand gently to ease a troubled mind. 'I have been in a battle—but I am fine. Feel me—I am very much alive.'

  The old woman touched her face, and immediately the ramblings of a woman too old for this world were silenced. She caught sight of Dainn in her peripheral vision.

  'You have a friend with you... let me see him.'

  Dainn stepped forward and dropped to one knee. Ukaleq covered her mouth in shock. Siri stepped forward in anguish.

  'Ukaleq... this is Dainn... this is Ajeya's husband.'

  'No, it cannot be, it cannot be.'

  '
Ukaleq he is a friend, he will not hurt you.' Siri appealed to her.

  She turned her attention to Dainn and held out her arms out to him. 'Thorne, it is you, you have come back to me.'

  Siri was very concerned now. 'This is not Thorne, Ukaleq, this is Dainn, he has come from the Hill Fort Tribe to visit us.'

  'It is Thorne I tell you, it is Thorne, he has come back.'

  Siri shook his head in despair and looked to the gods for help.

  Dainn looked into the old woman's eyes. 'Dear lady, I promise you, I am not Thorne. My name is Dainn. I am from the Hill Fort Tribe, and I have heard so much about you from the many people who love you.'

  'Dainn you say?'

  'Yes my name is Dainn.'

  'And is your totem the stag?'

  The young man felt the withered hands shake as she touched his face.

  'Yes, my totem is the stag. '

  She seemed to search through all the memories in her head, and then spoke in a frail whisper.

  'You are alive. All these years you have been alive.'

  'Yes, and I have only just found out that Thorne is my father.'

  Siri stepped back in shock. 'Dainn... I never knew... I never even dreamed... but now... of course... I can see... you are the image of him.'

  'Am I?'

  'He is Thorne's son,' said Ajeya. 'Peira has written it all down in a letter.'

  The memory of twenty five years ago came flooding back, and Ukaleq let out a deep howl. She gripped on to his hand and kissed it passionately.

  'I had to intervene when an inexperienced birthing magus tried to deliver you. It was so awful, your poor mother was in such pain, but she wanted you so badly that she barely groaned.' Ukaleq shook her head in despair and bit her bottom lip. 'It could have all been prevented, I can see that now.' She sank her head down onto her crepey chest.

  Dainn was visibly moved and stroked her hand as she found the strength to speak again.

  'I was the first person to see you, to hold you. Your mother gave you the totem of a stag because you bellowed so loudly.' A smile escaped her lips at the memory. '... but she was so weak, so frail, and against all the odds she saved you.'