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THEY WENT TO SEE ABOUT it at the same time for the sad whimper of a dog was a sure sign it was hurt. But when Stefan finally found it, it was not a dog but a gray wolf. Just as he parted the bushes and saw the animal lying on its side hopelessly tangled up in twine, bushes on the other side of the wolf parted and he was face to face with a boy not much younger than he.
Stefan nodded and then pulled out his dagger, “I say we cut it free.”
“I say we kill it,” the boy said. “Many’s the lamb who will not be sorry to be shed o’ that one.”
“This wolf? This precise wolf? Have ye any proof?”
“‘Tis a wolf, what more proof are ye need’n?”
The animal’s eyes were wide with fright and Stefan felt sorry for it. “Even a wolf has the right to survive any way it can and this one has cubs somewhere.”
“Aye but...”
“We kill lambs for food too, should we be put to death?”
There was little the other laddie could say, though he did wrinkle his brow. “If I help ye free it, do ye pledge not to tell my father?”
“I do.”
The boy knelt down, struggled for a moment to get a firm hold on the wolf’s mouth to clamp it shut and then held its front paws while Stefan carefully cut the twine away. They stared at each other, then when the boy nodded, both he and Stefan let go and quickly moved away. The scared wolf scrambled to its feet and darted through the bushes toward the river. Then it stopped and looked back at them for a long moment.
“Ye are welcome,” said Stefan. With that, the animal ran down the river bank and out of sight.
“I am Diarmad from Clan Macoran.”
“I am Stefan...”
“I know, we have all heard. Is it true there be a giant in the north that be slow o’ wit?”
“Aye.” Stefan had a feeling he was about to get trapped in his lie and decided to head home.
But Diarmad quickly caught up. “When ye go north again, may I go with ye? I would see this giant.”
So would I, Stefan thought. “‘Twill be a long time afore I go back.”
Diarmad was disappointed. “But when ye do, will ye take me?”
Stefan stopped and looked at his new friend. Already he was much taller than Diarmad who had the famous light skin and red hair of the Macorans. Nevertheless, he had blue eyes instead of green and a warm smile. Stefan hesitated to agree to take him north, but decided a lot could happen before then and he probably would not be held to his promise. “Aye.”
“Macoran told us all about ye, ‘er I should say he told some and they spread it around. Gossip be our favorite diversion.”
“‘Tis the same where I come from. Where do ye live?”
“Just beyond the trees. We know Jirvel’s husband cast her off. Two other men went with him. Does she know where they have gone? Macoran would surely like to know, he be none too pleased about it.”
“She does not and she is well rid o’ her husband from what I can see.”
“Everyone says he was not inclined to marry her just as she was not inclined to marry him, but they married just the same. Her husband loved another, they say.”
Stefan was intrigued. “Why do they say that?”
“Because the lass he wanted to marry...and who wanted to marry him...killed herself the day he married Jirvel.”
Stefan quickly crossed himself. Then he found a large rock and sat down. “Does Jirvel know?”
“Aye, the lass hung herself from a branch of that tree next to Jirvel’s cottage and it was Jirvel who found her.”
Stefan could think of nothing worse and closed his eyes. He liked Jirvel and could only imagine how much pain it caused her. “Tell me, if neither wanted it, why did Eogan marry Jirvel?”
“That, no one knows for sure but greed be the suspect. ‘Tis said Eogan wanted the land and the only way Macoran would grant it, was if he married Jirvel. ‘Tis said Eogan planned to marry her, accuse her of adultery, set her aside and then marry the lass he loved. That way he could have both his preferred lass and the land.”
“But the lass he loved did not know o’ his plan.”
“It would seem not. Are ye the missing Viking?”
Stefan rolled his eyes. “They have not yet found him?” He quickly searched his mind for something the boy could spread around that would end the suspicion. “As yer well aware, there are many Vikings in the north. I have heard of two who swam a great distance to get to a longship. Perhaps he...”
Diarmad’s eyes grew wide and he quickly found a rock opposite Stefan to sit on. “In these cold waters?”
“Aye, they are very strong lads.”
“‘Tis possible, I suppose. We did not see a lad in the water, but we were not looking for one either.”
“‘Tis not like the Vikings to leave a lad behind. Perhaps they came back in the night to get him.”
“That be possible too.”
He should ask about the battle. Any other laddie who had not been there would, but Stefan could not stand to hear it. “Have ye any brothers and sisters?”
Diarmad grinned. “If ye’ve a need for a sister, I would be happy to give over five or six. There are seven, all told, but I like the eldest. Her name be Andrina and ye will like her too. She has her wits about her.”
“No brothers?”
“Two, both older and set to take wives soon. I dread the day they are gone and I am alone with all those...lassies.”
“And yer parents?”
“Mother gave up the ghost two years hence and father has asked for Jirvel.”
He remembered Macoran saying two men had asked for her and Diarmad’s father must be one of them. “She be married still.”
“Aye, but when the priest comes after the harvest to collect the tithe, father hopes to convince him to set her marriage aside.”
“He can do that? Yer father, I mean?”
“Our priest is not an unreasonable man. He knows ‘tis impossible for a lass to manage alone. Plus...”
“What?”
“Father will offer an extra tithe for it.”
“And if Jirvel refuses to marry him?”
Diarmad looked shocked, “Lasses are not allowed to refuse. Once Macoran agrees, she be betrothed.”
Stefan spotted a small round stone in the dirt, leaned over and picked it up. Long ago his father taught him how to play a game with round rocks and he was starting a collection for the son he would have some day. “I dinna see how forcing a lass to marry be o’ benefit to the husband. I want a wife who loves me.”
“I confess not all marriages are blissful, but father says a lass learns to love her husband later. He says most are grateful just to have a husband.”
“I dinna want a grateful wife, I want one who will be happy to see me when I come home, will be proud to stand by my side and who wants my children. I will settle for nothing less.”
Diarmad scratched the side of his head. “Let a lass choose, ye mean? ‘Tis unheard of.”
“‘Tis not unheard of. A lass wants to be truly in love just like most lads. I would want that kind of love for Jirvel and Kannak.” He quickly stood up and headed back to the cottage. Suddenly he did not like Diarmad’s father.
“Wait, are ye saying Jirvel would refuse to marry my father even if Macoran proclaimed it?”
Stefan slowed and let Diarmad catch up. “Would ye like seeing yer Andrina married to a lad she did not love just because yer laird proclaimed it?”
“She would learn to love him.”
“Ye cannae truly believe that. Suppose he be a drunkard like Eogan or slothful or even cruel to her. How then is she supposed to learn to love him?” He had said too much for the boy looked in complete misery. “Dinna fret, when she be old enough to marry, we will find a way to prevent the wrong lad from taking her.”
“She be old enough now. She be fourteen.”
“Has a lad asked for her?”
“Not yet, but father says they will soon. What can we do?”
“I can do little, but ye have an advantage. Ye know the lads and can judge which will be good to her. Perhaps ye might arrange for the lad o’ yer choosing and yer sister to be together somehow. But see that he be not old for her sake.”
“I will think on it. Perhaps ye might want her.”
“I dinna want a wife nor do I have anything to offer one.”
Diarmad was disappointed but it passed quickly. “Will ye help me? Perhaps tomorrow we could go to the village and have a look see at the lads.”
“I have much to do here, but I will ask Jirvel. Tell me, did ye come for a particular reason?”
“Oh, I near forgot. Father sent me to see if ye want the cow bred. ‘Tis our bull what does it normally.”
“Come to the cottage and we will ask Jirvel.”
“Ask a lass?”
“‘Tis her cow.”
“Nay, ‘tis Macoran’s cow.” Diarmad suddenly grinned. “‘Tis a worthy cause to go to the village tomorrow and ask Macoran. Do ye agree?”
Stefan returned his smile. “A worthy cause indeed.”
*
BECAUSE OF HER HUSBAND’S drunkenness, Jirvel and Kannak had little social life except for the occasional visit to the village, and Jirvel was surprised when a knock at the door produced the widower Ronan from the land next to hers and his seven daughters. He was not an unpleasant looking man, but he was much older and almost shorter than Jirvel.
The girls ranged in age from five to fourteen and all began to talk at once. “We have come to help,” said the eldest.” Andrina was a pretty girl whom often wished she and Kannak could be friends. She suspected Eagan forbid it in the past, but now that he was gone, she was hopeful.
“We are good at planting and we have finished ours,” another of the girls proudly announced. “And we noticed...could not help but notice, yer chickens need a pen to keep them safe. We can put up three walls, if’n we use the back o’ yer shed for the fourth. We make excellent walls and yer land has plenty o’ rocks.”
The smallest child pushed her way through the others, came in the door, raised her arms to Jirvel and waited for her to pick her up. “I am Suria. We seen three berry bad wolves. I are a feared o’ ‘em, are ye?”
“Nay, we have Stefan to protect us.” She smiled at the child’s father and since there were so many of them, decided to carry the little one outside to talk. Kannak was thrilled and quickly walked out to stand beside Andrina.
But Stefan was not so pleased. While they needed the help and badly, he did not like the way Ronan looked at Jirvel and he had not forgotten what Diarmad said the day before about bribing the priest so she would be free to marry. Nevertheless, he politely greeted the girls and then spotted Diarmad standing by a tree holding the reins of two horses. He preferred to ride their horse but the mare would not come to him. He needed Jirvel to whistle and she was busy talking.
Jirvel set the child down and curtsied to Ronan as a sign of respect even though it was not required for any man save their laird. “Ye are very kind to help us.” She meant it too. They only had two chickens left and with no pen, Jirvel had to rely on her nightly prayer to keep them safe.
“Ye may not be so happy once ye see what these can eat o’ a noon meal. Just in case, I brought two loaves o’ bread.” He handed her a cloth sack. “If that be not enough, I can send the laddies for...”
“‘Tis more than enough.”
Ronan nodded and went to his horse. “Best ye take our other horse for yer ride into the village, Stefan, and leave the mare in case the lassies need to come get us for some reason.” He mounted and then rode his horse out of the courtyard and turned down the path.
But the other horse Diarmad held the reins to had a saddle and Stefan much preferred to ride bare back. Before he even asked, Jirvel whistled and it wasn’t long until the mare came running. He bridled her, mounted and then turned to the woman he was beginning to think of more as a mother than just a good friend. “We will not tarry long.” When he looked, Kannak and Andrina were whispering, looking at him and giggling. Stefan rolled his eyes.
“Enjoy yer day, Stefan. Perhaps ye should see more o’ our land and meet more o’ the people. We will be well.” She saw the look of worry in his eyes and sought to comfort him further. “Ye forget, we have weapons now and we know how to use them. Be gone with ye two.”
He still hesitated, but finally led the way up the same path Ronan took. After a time and when the path was wide enough, Diarmad moved his horse up beside Stefan’s. “There be a certain lad we might consider for Andrina. His name be Blair and he has already had a wife, but she died six months ago with the birth o’ her first. A lass in the village cares for her bairn, but Blair visits often. To my way o’ thinking, only a good lad would do that.”
“I agree.” He let Diarmad take the lead and as they rode past farm after farm, Diarmad had this and that to say about each, mostly good things but occasionally he was critical of the man for his farming skills. It appeared farming skills were far more important to Diarmad than the man’s care of his wife and children, but Stefan kept his thoughts to himself.
When they came to a place in the path that was flooded, Diarmad halted his horse. “Searc and Sionn have been here, I see.” He turned his horse off the path, found the creek and just as he thought, rocks and mud had been piled in the creek to force the water onto the path.
“Why do ye suspect Macoran’s sons o’ this?” Stefan dismounted and began to move the rocks out of the creek.
“Who else would do it? They are a pest and blight on us all. The laddies particularly like to cause the widow Sarah’s discomfort. She has a sharp voice when she be riled and they do all they can to get her so. Once they put eggs in her chair and she neglected to look before she sat. Her screeching was so loud, half the Limonds came to the river to see if they were needed.”
“And Macoran does nothing to stop his sons?”
“They are well trained to keep out o’ sight and not get caught.”
“Trained by whom?”
“Mistress Agnes, ‘tis said, though none have the proof. If they did, they would tell Macoran. God help us all when those two are grown. We will no doubt be tempted to tell the Vikings where to find them.” Diarmad joined his laughter to Stefan’s, watched him get back on his horse and then led the way back to the path. “The twins particularly like fire and more than once a lad or lass has pulled them away from one just in time. At least we have one saving grace.”
“What might that be?”
“In the spring, Macoran sends them off with their mother to the Brodie’s. ‘Tis the most blessed time o’ the year for us all.”
