Authors: Nathan Lowell
Hunger moved her, finally, and strong wings snapped to catch the
morning air–once, twice, thrice–before gliding to a favorite snag
thrust up from the edge of a pond in the forest. Cattails browned on
the edge of the pond, completing the cycle she’d seen before, but her
sharp golden eyes watched the edges of the water, between the reeds,
watching for food, looking for–there. She pounced, sharp talons
snatching the wriggling thing, strong bill crunching it. It would hold
her for a time and her strong legs thrust her into the air even as her
wings pulled her upwards. She glided between the trees and
back into the shadows of the forest. A few strokes and a gentle
bank brought her to a comfortable perch, protected from the
wind and open to the rising sun. She settled there, listening,
occasionally preening a rough spot on wing or back, letting the
sun warm and lull her and, for a time, there was no time at
all.
The All-Mother completed her circuit of the sky. Darkness came
for a time only to be banished by the All-Father’s silvery face. And
even before he finished his survey, All-Mother returned. The raven
fed herself on berries and juicy bugs. Winter was coming and, with
it, the hungry time. She scoured her wood from hilltop to vale, from
pond to break, dark wood to field. She listened and warned with her
voice.
The men in the clearing were interesting and she took her perch
above them, golden eyes watching. There was movement in the field
again. Children ran. Women dug root crops and cut corn. She
crooned. No more sweet corn for her, but perhaps some fruit would
be left behind. She remembered sweet fruit from the ground and gave
a soft croak of anticipation for the women to be done so she could
search.
There was carrion down there, too. She smelled the meat on the
breeze, but was unable to find it until movement drew her attention
and she saw them putting the bodies in holes. They were wrapped in
cloth but her talons gripped the branch beneath her and she
knew cloth would not slow her long. So much meat would be
good. She lifted her head and called loudly in anticipation and
warning. The big male in the next valley might hear and she
liked that idea. She called again and listened, but there was no
answer.
The men below were done putting the meat in the holes. She
danced in frustration as she watched them filling the holes, shoveling
the musky earth down, covering the meat, hiding it. In moments it
was done and the meat was gone. She crooned her frustration and
looked about for her next meal. She was hungry and winter
was coming. With a last loud cry, she launched herself onto
the air and soared back into the forest. She needed water and
headed for the pond. Perhaps there’d be another bit of food as
well.
Her eyes were gummy but they opened a bit. Her lips were parched and her tongue felt stuck to her mouth. A shape moved and she focused on it. Megan smiled down at her. “Good afternoon, mum.” Her voice was soft and low.
Tanyth managed to croak but her mouth was too dry to work right.
Megan brought a moistened cloth and stroked her face with it, wiping it across her mouth, wetting her lips. She pulled the cloth away but returned with a spoon and ladled a few drops of water onto the side of her mouth and Tanyth’s tongue managed to find it and the cool liquid slipped down her throat, loosening and soothing as it went. They repeated the process several times before Tanyth was able to say, “Thank you.”
A line of fire stitched her up the middle and she let herself escape it by falling back into slumber. She’d been wounded and she needed to heal. Sleep was the great healer and she embraced it willingly.
The cool water flashed in the failing light of the All-Mother. She
left the sky empty longer now, taking to her nest and leaving the sky
for All-Father. Her heavy bill crunched several times and a small
fish slipped down easily as she swallowed. She needed to find more
food and a perch for the night. It would be colder now and she needed
her strength.
She took wing and sailed over the place where men worked the
gray soil. No man walked the land so she circled to see if there were
any bright things she might take, or perhaps some food left. Small
animals visited the place sometimes and they were tasty and
warm. Her bright golden eyes raked the ground but nothing
moved and nothing shined, she flicked a wing and continued
onward.
The men had carved a path through the trees and she followed it
taking pleasure in swooping along and between. She was silent except
for a faint whisper in her wings as she sailed rapidly. She checked
her speed as the opening appeared and turned with a flare of wing
and tail to alight on a branch where she would watch. The meat was
buried and even the scent of it was gone from the air. The young
were running and making a terrible racket but the large people
were tearing at the burned house. It didn’t stink as much any
more.
The man with the bow came up the track and she watched him
carefully. Men were seldom a threat but those with bows needed care.
They sometimes took sport with her kind and she’d had to dodge
more than one arrow in her life. The breeze carried a scent of offal
and she perked up at the aroma. If he’d killed, there might be food.
She took wing and soared.
Tanyth woke again. Stronger now and still in pain. She laughed. It was more a panting sound than a laugh but she laughed even though it hurt.
Sadie leaned over her and smiled to see her awake. “Hello, mum. Welcome back.”
Tanyth tried to smile in return and it must have worked because Sadie’s smile widened.
Sadie offered a cup of water and helped Tanyth lift her head to drink it. The line of fire up her belly didn’t hurt as badly and she was feeling considerably more clear headed. The liquid moistened her throat and tongue and she was able to speak more than a simple croak. “William?”
Sadie nodded her head. “He’ll be ok. He won’t be chopping any wood for awhile, but he’ll recover.” Her face clouded. “They killed Kurt.”
Tanyth nodded. “Birchwood said that. I didn’t believe him.”
Sadie made a sideways shrug. “He was telling the truth.”
“There’s been no more trouble, then?”
Sadie shook her head. “Thomas killed one of them behind the barn. The other one threw down his sword and ran away.”
Tanyth nodded. “I should have been quicker.”
Sadie patted her gently on the shoulder. “There, there, mum. If it hadn’t been for you and your warning, we’d have all been dead.”
Tanyth took small comfort although she knew it was true. “Everyone else?”
Sadie smiled. “All fine, mum. And we have a nice soup for you here. Would you like some?”
Tanyth noticed that she was still in the workroom, although the saw horses and boards had been removed. She laid on a rope-bound cot on a sweet grass tick. A pot burbled gently over the fire and a kettle steamed nearby. Her stomach growled loudly enough that Sadie heard it.
“That sounded like a yes to me, mum.” She grinned and patted the older woman’s arm once more.
“Why am I still here?” Tanyth’s voice was weak but still audible in the quiet room.
Sadie ladled a dipper of broth into an earthenware mug and then broke a hank of bread off a loaf that rested on a cutting board nearby. She brought the food over and set it on a sawed off log that stood on end as a table. “Because this was the easiest place to care for you. You were bleeding a lot and laying in the broken crockery when we found you, mum. We weren’t sure what happened.”
“Birchwood is dead, though, isn’t he?”
“Yes, mum. He’s dead.” Sadie walked around the end of the cot above Tanyth’s head and grabbed the frame. “Just a second, mum. Hold on.”
Tanyth had a moment of disorientation until she realized that Sadie was lifting the cot with her on it. Wood scraped on wood and then the end of the cot lowered a bit, leaving her laying on a slight incline.
Sadie came back to the side of the cot and settled on another sawed off log. “There. That’ll save you havin’ to lift your head so far, mum.”
“What’d you do?” Tanyth was unable to turn far enough to see.
“Put a log under the head to hold it up while you eat.”
“You lifted the cot and me together?”
Sadie shrugged. “Well, of course, mum. Won’t have done much good if I’d lifted you and not the cot and I certainly couldn’t lift the cot without lifting you in it, now could I?”
Tanyth grinned and laughed softly. “I just meant you were strong.”
Sadie raised an eyebrow and a spoon at the same time. “Strong? Me, mum? I’m not that strong and you’re not that heavy! I think Riley weighs more than you.” She levered the spoon and the rich broth rolled over Tanyth’s tongue.
Tanyth smiled and swallowed gratefully. “You know, I could probably hold a cup and a spoon.” She lifted her arms and showed Sadie.
“Can you lift your head so you don’t spill the soup off the spoon before it gets into your mouth, mum?” She smiled skeptically, but seemed willing to try.
“If we can get me propped up enough to hold the mug and drink it, I won’t need a spoon.”
Sadie nodded at the wisdom of that. “Ok, mum. But you nursed me. Seemed only right that I should nurse you.”
Tanyth blushed a bit at the earnestness of the young woman’s response. “I appreciate it. Really, but the sooner I start doin’ things for myself, the sooner I’ll be up and about.”
They spent a few more painful moments with Sadie trying to push pads of blankets under Tanyth’s shoulders and to lift her up without her having to use her stomach muscles. In the end, Tanyth was propped up, partly by a wad of woolens, and partly through the expedient of getting a taller log to hold up the head of the cot. She started to slide down a bit, but her heels caught on the inside of the frame and she found she could brace her knees without undue strain.
All through the exercise, Tanyth tried to get a feel for how badly she was damaged but she seemed to be wrapped in strips of bandage from her collar bone to her hips. The line of fire was less precise the longer she tried to concentrate on it and even peeking under the covers only showed her in some kind of shift that she didn’t recognize.
“Sadie?” Tanyth was hesitant about asking.
“Yes, mum?” The younger woman settled beside her and handed her the mug of broth.
Tanyth took the mug and looked pointedly down at herself. “How bad is it?”
Sadie looked up and down at the older woman. “Well, mum. You did need a few stitches across your chest, but the cut up your belly wasn’t particularly deep. More a scratch. The wrappings you wore around your chest? They were cut clean through and the knife went pretty deep there, but we got you stitched up and wrapped pretty fast.” She looked up at Tanyth’s face, nodding at the mug of soup. “You’ll want to drink that while it’s still warm, mum.”
Tanyth blinked a couple of times, having difficulty understanding what she’d heard. She brought the cup to her lips and carefully sipped it, working her head forward a bit to get her mouth on the lip of the cup to avoid pouring the soup down her front. The warmth and the moisture felt wonderful and she sipped again. “Stitched me up?”
“My Thomas was in the King’s Own for a time. He was in a lot of battles and helped with the wounded.” She lowered her eyes. “He was the one that actually stitched you, mum. I hope you don’t mind.”
Tanyth laid a tentative hand on her breastbone. It was tender to the touch, sure enough, but the padding of the bandages gave her some protection. “Why would I mind, dear?” She was already feeling better and took another small sip of the broth.
Sadie didn’t look up. “Well, we chaperoned him, mum, but he had to take some liberties with your clothing and all.” Her eyes flickered to her chest.
Tanyth felt a brief flush of embarrassment that Thomas had seen what gravity and time had done to her body before realizing that she wasn’t thinking too clearly. “I think I owe him a debt of gratitude, Sadie. I’m grateful that he was able to use his knowledge and skills to sew my old carcass back together.” She smiled warmly. “How’s his hemming? Did he run a straight seam?”
Her comment caught Sadie off guard and she looked up in horror before she realized that Tanyth was joking. “Yes, mum. We made sure he kept his stitches nice and even for you. Never know who you’ll get to show them off for.”
Tanyth huffed a small laugh and took another sip of soup. She looked over to where Sadie had left the hank of bread on the table. “Was that for me as well?”
Sadie grinned and handed Tanyth the bread which she dipped into the rich broth and let dissolve in her mouth. In less time that she’d have thought possible the mug was empty and she held it up to let the last savory drops run into her mouth. She handed the empty mug back. “That was very good, Sadie. Might I have a little more?”
“Are you sure you should, mum?”
Tanyth shrugged, but instantly regretted it. “Nothin’ was damaged inside. Just a cut. Why not?”
“Mum, you lost a lot of blood.” Sadie took the cup and crossed to the fire. “But if you want some, I’ll give you a little but then you have to go back to sleep.”
Tanyth heard Sadie’s solicitous words as little more than a gentle noise in the background as she slid back down the slope to sleep.
Chapter 29
Healing Time
Within a couple of days, Tanyth was ready to get out of bed. “Megan, come help me a moment, please?”
Megan put down her mending and stepped over to the cot. “How can I help, mum?”
Tanyth struggled to a sitting position and swung her legs over the side of the cot. “Give me your hands, please? I need to stand up.”