Darkwalker on Moonshae - Douglas Niles [38]
Leaving Daryth to the women, Tristan took advantage of the shelter, and the woodsman’s supplies, to wrap Arlen’s body more securely. The flesh, clammy and lifeless, seemed to bear little resemblance to the man who had taught and tutored the prince throughout his life. Tristan prepared the body as for a funeral, certain that his father would have such a ceremony when they arrived home. Wistfully, he recalled his old teacher’s gruff advice. His compliments had been few, but he had never despaired of Tristan’s ability to learn and even excel.
The man had died a warrior’s death! And such, among the Ffolk, was the finest way a man could die – at least, this is what the prince had always assumed. This assumption now felt very hollow.
Tristan entered the cottage after dark, welcoming the smells of spices and warm smoke that met him as he passed through the door. Keegan and his family offered every comfort their simple home could supply. After a plain but filling dinner and several glasses of the woodsman’s own wine, the company relaxed in the first real comfort they had known in days. Only Daryth’s weakened condition, and the unknown threats that might lurk in the forest beyond the sturdy door, prevented the night from becoming a completely pleasant one.
“Your companions tell us that you are Keren Donnell,” said the woodsman hesitantly after the meal. “Could… could we beseech you to play for us?”
“I’d be delighted,” said the bard, rising and crossing to the jumble of supplies they had dropped inside the door. Keren pulled out his harp and, as he strolled back to his chair, strummed a few chords, tuning his strings with tender care. Then he began to play.
The Song of the Earthmother floated through the cottage. The words told of the goddess in all her glory, and how she had grown from the balance of good and evil in the world. She and her worshippers knew that neither good nor evil, in a pure sense, would benefit the world. Thus, the goddess was devoted to preserving the Balance.
The song then told of the druids, who were the human children of the goddess. The duties of the druids included preserving the sanctity of her wild places from the depredations of the rest of humankind. They insured that the Balance of the wilderness remained intact – that creatures were born, and died, in a manner pleasing to the goddess.
But the goddess also had other, even mightier children, and the song next told of these, one at a time.
First came verses about the great unicorn, Kamerynn, who dwelt in Myrloch Vale. A creature of enchantment and power, the unicorn was an unnatural animal, incapable of reproduction. Yet, as the king of the forest, it guarded and protected creatures of the woodland that even the druids did not know.
And the leviathan, the largest of the goddess’s children, was charged with the same responsibility at sea. The leviathan slept nearly always, certainly for centuries at a time. When awakened, however, it became a force unmatched in the natural world.
The last of the children was a gathering of wolves known as the Pack.
Wolves commonly roamed the wild places of Gwynneth and served their natural role as carnivores, helping to preserve the Balance in this role. Yet, in times of danger, the goddess would summon the wolves, and the Pack would form. Many were its numbers, and formidable its might. Although the distant baying of wolves was a chilling sound to a person alone on a moonless night, the gathering of the Pack was a mighty sign of the goddess’s determination to see the Balance maintained.
As the last strains of harp music drifted through the house, Tristan nodded wearily. Druids, and wolves, and unicorns all seemed the stuff of legends… He and his friends went to their beds, to dream of Arlen, Firbolgs, and the pleasant tales – the stuff of legend – that had flowed from Keren’s harp.
Of them all, only the bard suspected that a new legend had perhaps already begun.
*****
The woodsman, Keegan, had an oxcart, and begged to be allowed to accompany the group to Caer Corwell.