To the Waters and the Wild

by S C McGrath

  I am being foolish, letting a dream affect me so, thought Keelin. She tried to reassure herself and turned her thoughts to the rest of her day, which would be spent visiting patients in the village and surrounding farms. However, she could not shrug off the troubling dream and felt renewed hostility toward Brian, who had played such a villain in it.

  

  Nellie nickered when Keelin approached the pasture where the mare was grazing. She had decided to use the old mare on her patient visits today. Normally, Keelin and Nuala walked when making their rounds. The priestess insisted that it was good for the body and soul to be firmly connected with the earth and frowned upon any mention of riding or taking a horse-drawn cart. Although Keelin would never admit it, she loved to walk with the Priestess, intently listening to Nuala’s lectures on medicine, often scrambling to keep up. But with Nuala away on one of her increasingly frequent and mysterious journeys, Keelin did not want to be alone and Nellie was always good company.

  “So, my beautiful Nellie,” Keelin said as the mare nudged her hand, “how are all your aches and pains today?”

  Keelin had just turned five when her father had unceremoniously placed her astride Nellie, their reliable and stocky cart horse, with the instructions, “Now then, Keelin, ride her to the gate and back.” Conall had soundly slapped the mare’s rump and watched them trot away.

  Nellie was now over twenty years old with arthritic knees and pasterns, yet Keelin kept the mare sound and content. Each day she mixed a special remedy in Nellie’s bran mash that kept the swelling and pain at bay.

  “Yes, I see that you are quite well.” She stroked the mare’s neck, knowing the remedy only slowed the progression of Nellie’s complaints. Keelin fervently wished that her healing powers were stronger. There were so few diseases that could be cured. Keelin now had sufficient knowledge to treat the sick and ease their pain and suffering, and her otherworldly gift for healing was considerable, but she was not satisfied. Although she felt her power growing daily, there was much she still had to learn from Nuala. The priestess’s unyielding manner and impossible expectations often made studying under her intolerable. Yet Keelin could not deny Nuala’s brilliance. With no one but the priestess could she master the art of healing. I must be patient, she thought with grim determination as she led Nellie out of the pasture.

  Nuala had accepted Keelin as a student of The Dagda when she turned ten. Before then, the two saw each other only infrequently. For her part, Keelin was in awe of Nuala but also wary of her. Even from a very young age Keelin understood she was different, had strange, otherworldly powers of the mind she kept hidden as best she could. She instinctively knew Nuala possessed powers even stronger than her own. Therefore, she carefully avoided the priestess, not wishing to arouse her scrutiny. Keelin eventually realized she had nothing to fear. Nuala rarely even looked at her and, when she did, it was with cool disregard. It was only after the incident with the wild boar when she was nine that the priestess began to take notice of her.

  Keelin had been excited that day. Her father and his brother, Eirnín, along with Séamus and Brian, were going to hunt a large stag that had been spotted in the northern woods. For the first time, Keelin’s father had invited her to join them. Aunt Meghan, Eirnín’s wife, had admonished both her husband and Conall when she saw Keelin about to ride off with the hunting party.

  “A hunt is no place for a lass as young as Keelin. What possessed the two of you to even consider such a thing,” Meghan proclaimed, her hands on her very sizable hips. Meghan was a big, sturdy woman with fiery red hair and a temper to match. She always spoke her mind and was never intimidated by Conall, much less her husband.

  “Keelin can ride better than Séamus and will come to no harm,” Eirnín answered, trying to placate his wife. “We will take great care of her, I assure you.”

  “Nonsense. Conall, I cannot imagine how Saraid must feel, you taking her dear lass and only child on a hunt. You don’t know what you might encounter—wolves, wild boar—it’s frightful.” Becoming more incensed, Meghan was about to continue her harangue when Conall put up his hand and stopped her.

  “Silence, Meghan. Saraid and I both agreed Keelin should join the stag hunt. I, for one, can think of a no more fearless and able companion.”

  Keelin swelled with pride as she rode off with the hunting party but dared not look at Aunt Meghan. Instead, she trotted Nellie up alongside her father who looked down and gave her a conspiratorial wink.

  According to Uncle Eirnín, the big red buck was magnificent, with at least eighteen points on his antlers. Venison was highly prized in Eire and this buck would provide meat for her uncle’s large family over the long winter. Séamus and Brian were both twelve and had accompanied the men on other hunts. Brian was already broad-shouldered and nearly as tall as the men. Séamus, although naturally tall of frame, had not yet matured and was still considerably smaller than his best friend. Years before, Eirnín had taken Brian under his wing and had treated the boy as a son, knowing he received no paternal affection or guidance at home. Brian had responded with something akin to hero worship and loved Eirnín with steadfast devotion.

  They had tracked the stag for nearly an hour when the hounds began to whine and behave strangely. They had been given the scent to track deer and became hesitant when they encountered the strong scent of another animal, especially the scent of a predator. Eirnín called the hounds to him and all but his youngest obeyed.

  “Curse that young pup. Where did Béar go off to? I should not have brought him.”

  “It will be the death of him,” said Conall, “for I fear the hounds have come upon the scent of wild boar and he will have no chance alone.”

  At that moment, they heard the rustle of bracken some twenty yards away and caught a fleeting glimpse of a massive boar as it disappeared into the woods. Conall turned to Séamus and Brian. “Stay here with Keelin and keep a keen eye for any more of the foul creatures. It is unlikely but you must take no chances.” With that, the men galloped off in pursuit of the boar, the hounds bounding ahead of them.

  Angry beyond words, Brian glared at Keelin. They had been sitting there for some time, the boys glowering at Keelin and she glowering right back at them, when they heard the agonized cry of a hound. It had come from the southwest, the opposite direction from the men’s hunt. Keelin, without a moment’s hesitation, kicked Nellie and was off in the direction of the cry, crashing through the woods, swerving around trees, and flattening herself against Nellie’s neck as the mare galloped under low-hanging branches. Stunned for a second by Keelin’s mad reaction, Séamus and Brian were quickly in pursuit. But while their horses were much faster, they were also bigger and the boys could not take the direct route that Keelin had. They were forced to check their horses repeatedly and steer around the tree branches that she had galloped under so recklessly.

  By the time they reached the clearing where the attack had occurred, Keelin was already kneeling over the wounded hound. To the boys’ horror, a wild boar was charging at full speed toward Keelin. They yelled a frantic warning to her but she ignored them, intent only on ministering to the pitiful hound. When the boar was but a stride or two away, Keelin looked up and with all her might commanded, “HALT!” Incredibly, the boar checked himself in mid-stride, but his momentum carried his massive body forward and one of his razor-sharp tusks pierced Keelin’s chest. Recovering his balance, the boar seemed to look directly at Keelin. Then he spun around and ran from the clearing.

  “Séamus, ride as fast as you can and bring back your father and Conall! I will help Keelin.” Brian jumped from his horse and ran to Keelin’s side. There was blood everywhere and he could not tell if it was Keelin’s or the hound’s. She had been knocked over by the boar but had righted herself and was again examining the hound by the time he reached her.

  “Keelin!” said Brian as he knelt down next to her. “How deeply did the beast gore you?” Her woolen sweater was torn and covered with blood but Keelin seemed not
to notice. When Brian attempted to inspect her wound, she brushed his hand away distractedly.

  “I was dazed for a moment but I am not badly hurt. The boar just pricked me with his tusk. He must have decided to come back and finish off poor Béar. The big beast’s first strike was a poor one.” All the while Keelin spoke she was running her fingers gently over the hound’s body. There was a large gash on his belly and his entrails were protruding from the open wound. He was panting but was otherwise still.

  “Keelin, move away from Béar. I will put him out of his misery.” Brian pulled a sharp knife from a sheath on his belt. Keelin caught his wrist in a vice-like grip.

  “No!” she cried. “Béar is not fatally hurt. I know it looks dreadful but if we can get him to Nuala quickly, she can help him. I saw Nuala walking toward Uncle Eirnín’s cottage when we left. With any luck she will still be there. Come now, help me with Béar so I can get on Nellie.”

  “I’ll have no part in prolonging the poor hound’s suffering. Curse you, Keelin, haven’t you already done enough, almost getting yourself killed. Now move aside.” Brian wrenched his arm from Keelin’s grasp and tried to push her away, but she threw herself at him and wrapped her arms around his waist.

  “Please, Brian! Béar appears to have no injuries to his vitals. I know I am right, please!” Keelin clung to Brian, her head pressed against his chest, her tears mingling with her blood on his shirt.

  Brian glanced at the hound as he felt Keelin’s body strain and tremble with the struggle to hold him tight. He sighed and returned his knife to its sheath, then stroked Keelin’s hair.

  “Don’t cry, my fierce lass. We will find Nuala and she can try to work her magic on Béar.” With that, he pried Keelin’s arms from around his waist and gently wiped the tears from her eyes.

  Brian walked over to where Nellie stood quietly and led the mare to Keelin. “Jump on Nellie and I will hand Béar up to you.”

  Keelin swayed as she stood up, lifting her hand to her forehead. Alarmed, Brian put his arm around her shoulders.

  “I’ll not let you ride alone. The three of us can ride on Rónán—and no arguments. You and Béar will be tumbling off Nellie, light-headed as you are.” Brian whistled to his horse and Rónán came trotting over.

  Instead of an angry retort, Keelin smiled amiably and allowed Brian to lift her onto Rónán’s back and hand her Béar. Brian then jumped on Rónán and leading Nellie, they started back to Eirnín’s cottage. They had gone only a short distance when the men, followed by Séamus, came galloping out of the woods. Keelin did not notice her father’s expression change from fear to relief at the sight of her. Her thoughts were only of Béar. Leaning back against Brian’s chest, she cradled the hound in her arms and murmured soothing words to him. Her father made no reproach and reined his horse alongside them.

  When the hunting party reached Eirnín’s farm, Keelin was relieved to find that Nuala was still there. The boys took care of the horses, while Eirnín held the hound and Conall walked with a protective arm around Keelin to the cottage. Conall had attempted to carry her but she refused his assistance and wiggled out of his arms.

  “I am quite well,” Keelin furtively whispered to her father, even though she still felt faint. She didn’t want Nuala to treat her first, knowing that Béar was more seriously injured. She had noted that Brian’s ill humor had slowly returned as they rode back to the cottage. He had undoubtedly begun stewing over the lost chance at hunting wild boar, thought Keelin. Forgetting his kindness in the clearing, she only remembered his anger at having to stay with her and his intention to finish off poor Béar.

  The commotion of their arrival alerted Nuala and Aunt Meghan. They emerged from the cottage door just as the men dismounted. At the sight of Keelin blood-stained and pale as death, Meghan gave a concerned cry and then leveled a sharp glance at Conall and her husband. She was ready to unleash a torrent of angry accusations, but Nuala took her arm and silenced her.

  “The child is not seriously hurt and is only concerned for the poor hound Eirnín carries,” she said firmly. “You may chastise the men for their folly later.” With that, Nuala walked toward Eirnín and the hound.

  “So tell me, Keelin, what happened to foolish young Béar, and why do you think I can save him?” Nuala took Béar from Eirnín and carried the hound to the cottage.

  “Béar was attacked by a wild boar and has a large wound on his belly,” said Keelin. “However, the injury is not fatal. The boar must have delivered only a glancing blow.”

  “Is that so?” said Nuala, not even glancing at the girl. “We shall see. Meghan, get a linen cloth and spread it on the table. Bring me plenty of boiling water and clean, dry rags.”

  When all was ready, Nuala placed the hound on the table and began examining him. Her long, bony fingers moved quickly and expertly as she gently probed the hound’s wound. Abruptly, she raised her head and looked intensely at Keelin. “I indeed can find no serious internal injuries, though I find it odd, given this was a boar attack.”

  Keelin quickly averted her eyes. “I was certain Béar’s wound was not fatal!”

  Nuala gave the girl a withering glance. “Keelin, I want you to watch carefully as I close Béar’s wounds. I will make interior sutures with this fiber. As the wound heals, the fiber will be absorbed into Béar’s body.” Nuala threaded a sharp needle with tough-looking thread. “After I complete my interior sutures, I will use a linen thread to make the exterior sutures. It is very important that the area remains clean and free from infection. You noted that I applied a powder to the wound, which should help prevent any pollution and festering. If no internal or external infection occurs, Béar should survive.” Nuala completed the interior repair and adeptly closed the abdominal wound with neat, uniform stitches.

  With her repair work complete and Béar placed on a blanket in front of the fireplace, Nuala looked pointedly at Keelin. “Béar’s vital organs were not damaged. Though, as I said earlier, the wound was singularly peculiar. Infection is his only real threat. Now, let me look at you.”

  She examined the cut to Keelin’s chest. “I am afraid this wound requires stitches and there will undoubtedly be a scar. You are lucky the boar was nimble and avoided doing more harm.”

  At Nuala’s words, Séamus burst out, “You cannot believe how Keelin stopped the boar! It was charging her at full speed when she commanded it to halt, and it did! I still cannot believe it, though I saw it with my own eyes.” Séamus regarded his cousin with admiration and pride.

  “The boar undoubtedly stopped charging because of the threat from you and Brian, not Keelin’s command,” Nuala responded, dismissing Séamus’s story without so much as a glance.

  “Wild boars don’t break off their charge, even when threatened,” Brian proclaimed with authority.

  “But they do break off their charge when a nine-year-old girl commands them to do so,” Nuala said dismissively. “I have heard enough.”

  Looking defiant and angry, Brian shot Keelin a scathing glance and, with a motion for Séamus to follow, strode out of the cottage. Nuala glanced up as they departed but said nothing.

  

  The wound from the boar’s tusk did leave a crescent moon–shaped scar above Keelin’s right breast. The scar was a constant reminder of how her life changed forever that day. She became Nuala’s student and was propelled into the world of The Dagda. The priestess was quick to condemn Keelin’s actions with the admonition to never display her gifts so openly in the future. “The gods did not bestow you with powers of the mind to save foolish hounds. We of The Dagda must use our powers wisely and always with discretion.”

  “But I am not of The Dagda,” Keelin retorted when Nuala told her of The Dagda’s law of secrecy.

  “You will be one day,” the priestess replied.

  

  CHAPTER five

  

  eelin trotted Nellie into the yard of a small, neat farm. Two small boys were playing with one of the family collies near the
pigpen and an older boy was harnessing their cart horse to a wagon. Sitting on a rail of the stable fence and watching her older brother was a small girl of nine. She had light blonde hair and round blue eyes that seemed too large for her delicate face. She was painfully thin, her spindly legs and arms partially hidden by a linen pinafore. When she and her brother saw Keelin, they both called a greeting, the little girl’s face lighting up with a radiant smile. Despite her frail appearance, the girl’s face was tinged with a healthy pink blush and her eyes were clear and sparkling.

  “Keelin!” the little girl cried, jumping from the fence and running to greet her. “I’ve missed you so. Donal is going to let me go with him to the village because I am feeling so well.”

  Keelin’s heart always swelled with love when she saw little Caitlin. She was one of Keelin’s successes, seemingly cured, at least for now, of an evil disease that had threatened to kill her only six months earlier. Keelin jumped from Nellie’s back and hugged Caitlin as the girl threw herself into Keelin’s arms.

  “I can see how well you are and how strong you are becoming. Here, take Nellie to the stable and give her some water. Then you can tell me all that has happened since I last saw you.”

  Keelin smiled as Caitlin led Nellie away. She walked over to Donal who also watched his sister as Caitlin and Nellie disappeared into the stable.

  “So good to see you, Keelin,” Donal said enthusiastically. “I promised Caitlin I would take her to the village today, and I am glad we were delayed or we would have missed you.”

  Just then Caitlin’s mother, Maureen, emerged from the cottage and greeted Keelin. “Will you join me for a cup of cider, Keelin?”

  “Thank you, but not today. Nuala is away and I have many visits I must make. I see that Caitlin needs nothing from me but I will visit with her outside for a while if I may.”