Wolfskin (34 page)

“In a life such as mine there is no place for these things,” he said. The dog had laid her head on his lap, and his hand still moved, gently stroking her coat. “It is a different world.”

“No, Eyvi,” Nessa said. “This is the same world. It is you who are different. Not weak, not useless, not lost: just changed. Perhaps you did not want to come to these islands, but you have come, and the islands have changed you. They have claimed you. Do not curse them for that. The ancestors need you here. They want you here. We need only discover why, I think.”

“I am no part of this,” he said in a whisper. Nessa made no reply. The signs had made it clear to her that he must stay, but she could not show him the signs; that was forbidden. How could she show him? He could not summon the strength so much as to crawl forth from his hiding place, and a warrior does not see with the eye of the spirit. How could she reach him?

“You are become a part of it,” she said. “Perhaps we need only wait, and it will become plain to us what we must do.”

The days passed, many days. He was quite weak, unable to walk, and the trembling continued to plague him, despite his furious efforts to control it. He did not talk much, not now, but simply sat watching Nessa as she went about her tasks. The silence between them was not uncomfortable; if one shared the same dreams, Nessa thought, that made a sort of under
standing that did not require words. All the same, she blessed those practice sessions with Tadhg, for she must try to break through the barrier the young man held around him so fiercely. The Ulsterman had taught her well, and the language flowed ever more freely, words coming swiftly to her mind when she needed them.

“I do know how it feels to be sad, to feel everything is against you,” she told him as she rekindled the small fire one morning. “There was a time not so long ago when I felt like that. I was angry as well. I only had to sit still and open my eyes to the world around me, and the path forward became clear again. I'm sorry it is not springtime, Eyvi. I'm sorry what has happened between your people and mine means I cannot take you to those places I spoke of. I would show you the web of life itself: the wonder that surrounds us, the ancient pattern we are a part of. If you understand that, the mystery and loveliness of it, you can never be quite lost in despair. You just need to open your eyes and look, that's all. Look beyond the axe and the sword.”

“The axe and the sword are my world,” he said. “For me, there is nothing beyond.”

“I don't believe you.” Nessa set a small pot of water on the fire. “I see more in you than that, I did from the first.”

He said nothing, only watched her. Fluent as she was in the foreign tongue, still she wondered sometimes if he had understood her. If only she could make him see beyond what he thought were his own failings; if only she could make him see beyond the call to battle. It would take time; she must be patient.

There came a day when the wind was calmer, and she wondered if she might persuade him to test his legs enough to venture outside. He was still very weak, but she knew he hated others tending to his body's every need, and if he could at least make his way out to the privy with a little help, he might begin to despise himself less. Rona had the fire lit out in the open; it was the first time this had been possible for many days. Nessa stretched, looking up at the heavy clouds, the low, slanting sunlight trying to break through. It was strange. Within the confines of the tower in the earth, tending to her warrior, she almost forgot there was another world out here. Perhaps some of what Rona had said was right.

There was a call from down on the shore. “Nessa! Nessa, come out if you're there!”

Kinart's voice. Kinart come to bring food or maybe a message. She'd have to go and talk to him, explain that she must stay here a bit longer. It
was just as well he was forbidden to come any closer, just as well she had not managed to coax her Norseman out. Nessa made her way along the path through the dunes and down over the tumbled stones to the little shingly beach. From here, the Whaleback was clearly visible to the north, the breaking waves a white shawl fringing its seaward cliffs. The beach was strewn with weed, thick brown stems, delicate green fronds and a tumble of broken shells. Her cousin stood waiting, spear in hand. He did not seem to have brought any supplies.

“You can stop shouting, Kinart, I'm here. What is it?”

“You took your time. You must come home, Nessa. Your mother's taken a turn for the worse. Father needs you there. And he's worried; there's been more trouble on the borders. It's not safe for you anymore out here on your own.”

Nessa swallowed. Go home? Not yet, it was much too soon. But Mother sick: Mother dying, perhaps. How could she not go? “I–I have a ritual to perform. It's important. I must remain here a few more days at least. Tell Uncle Engus I'll come back in…in, say, four days, five? If the tides are right. What's happened with Mother?”

Kinart's dark brows creased in a frown. “She's bad,” he said sternly. “Wandering, distressed. She keeps asking where you are. We tell her, but she doesn't remember. She goes on about losing all her girls, and cries. The women can't cope with it. You should come back with me today, Nessa. Father told me to fetch you.”

“Three days,” she said, imagining her mother all alone in some sort of madness, thinking her youngest child lost as well. “Tell Mother I'll be there in three days. After that, I'll only visit Rona at low tide, like before. But I can't come today.”

“You have to come.” Kinart's jaw had a very stubborn set to it; he was looking more of a man and more of a warrior every time she saw him. “This is not safe anymore. And you won't be able to keep coming back here, either. Not until Father has a treaty in place.” He spat onto the pebbly ground. “Not that there's much chance of that, the savages. They'd rather pillage and slaughter than make deals. Men like this have no respect for your kind, Nessa. To them, you'd be just another young girl for the taking. You must come home to the Whaleback and stay there where we can protect you.”

“What about Rona?” Nessa's voice shook with sudden anger. “I'm supposed to leave her here, am I, to tend to the mysteries alone? An old woman?”

“She could come too, I suppose,” Kinart muttered. He had the grace to be a little embarrassed, at least.

“Did Uncle Engus tell you to say all that?” she demanded, folding her arms. “Or was some of it your own idea? Uncle Engus knows we must guard this place. He knows the ancestors must be honored. Now listen, I've said I'll come home in three days. You can walk back here and fetch me if you must, if you think I'm not capable of making my way along the shore alone, though I've done it most days for the past ten years. But that's it. Tell Mother I'll be there. Tell her I love her. I will come back. But I'm not abandoning this place and what belongs here. I have to keep doing this for the sake of the Folk. Without the ancestors, we'll be defeated, Kinart. Your spears and arrows, your anger and courage, those won't be enough if there's outright war.”

“You're only a girl,” her cousin said, as she had known he would. “We can't put you at risk. These people are capable of anything. Two more men were killed last night, stepped off a boat from High Island and into an ambush, cut to pieces. There's no reason for that save to make trouble. Scum, that's all these folk are, complete scum. I don't know what this Somerled is trying to prove.”

A chill ran through Nessa. For a moment she was somewhere else, and she was playing a game, a game with little men of carven stone, black and green; she reached to move a small warrior from one finely inlaid square to the next, and a hand came out and swept the board clean, a whole army laid waste with a single, confident stroke. She looked up and saw that face again, dark-eyed, calm, clever, entirely without feeling. She did not hear him speak, but knew his thoughts.
You can't win if you don't understand the rules. Never mind, old friend. No need to trouble your head with this. I can play well enough for the two of us.

“What is it?” Kinart asked, staring at her. “What's the matter?”

“Nothing.” Nessa blinked, and there was the sea and the shore again, and the gulls pecking at what the waves had scattered. Her cousin peered at her closely, his expression concerned. “Nothing. I know what he's trying to prove. This man, Somerled Horse-Master. He's trying to prove that he's the best. The king. Highest up the tree. He's trying to prove that he always wins. Uncle Engus won't defeat him with an army, not unless the lords of the Caitt arrive in numbers to support him, and why would they do that? It's the islands themselves that will defeat this chieftain. Deep magic: the ancient knowledge. We cannot afford to neglect the rituals. Tell my uncle that. And tell him, three days.”

“But—”

“Tell him, Kinart. Now I have to go. You might have brought a bit of fish or a round of cheese. Rona doesn't have much here, only what folk leave for her.”

“Hungry, are you? I might have a little something.” He retreated to a spot farther along the shore, retrieved a bag he had half-hidden there. “Here. I had a feeling you'd refuse to come. Caught you some fish, keep you and Rona going until I get back. Watch out for yourself, now.” He bent to give her a little peck on the cheek, frowning again.

“Goodbye, Kinart. And thanks. See you in three days.”

Three days: so short a time. Nessa gave the fish to Rona, and told her.

“Wonderful,” the wise woman commented dryly. “So I'm left with the big baby, all on my own. If I'd wanted to be a nursemaid I wouldn't have chosen to follow the path of the spirit all those years ago. The fellow's hopeless, Nessa. There's no fight left in him. He's like a dead man.”

But Nessa knew that was wrong. It had to be wrong. The signs did not lie. All he had to do was find his strength again.

“You think you can cure what ails him?” Rona asked. “Say you do. Say you succeed. Then all you'll have done is give these people back another fighting man, as if they hadn't enough already to put our folk to the knife. I can't understand why the signs lead this way. It feels like treachery. Surely the fellow would be more use as a hostage. Why didn't you tell Kinart? How am I supposed to do what must be done and tend to him as well?”

All the time the old woman was grumbling, her hands were occupied with a sharp knife, neatly gutting and scaling the fish for baking on the coals. Gulls appeared around them, gliding, squawking, ready to descend on the spoils. The two dogs came out, sniffing eagerly, tails thrashing in unison. And yes, that sound at the entry to the cairn was the whisper of a man's bare feet on the earth, the dragging of a man's cloak as he crept out from the passageway, the rasp of an indrawn breath as he rose cautiously to stand upright, swaying, one hand groping at the rocks for support, the other shielding his eyes from the sun. His face was linen-pale.

“Couldn't resist the smell of my cooking,” said Rona with a grimace, throwing the fish scraps to the two hounds. Nessa was already at the young man's side, offering her shoulder for support, listening carefully for signs of distress, changes of breathing, for if he collapsed out here they would not be able to move him to shelter.

“Well done, Eyvi. This is good, very good indeed. Let's see if you can
walk over to the fire; no need to open your eyes yet, lean on me, I'll guide you. Go slowly now. Good, good.” His steps were shuffling, his weight on her shoulder almost enough to topple her, but somehow they got to the fireside. His legs folded; he sat down abruptly, blinking, yawning, shivering despite the winter sun.

“Better tell him.” Rona glanced at Nessa. “Better break the news that he won't have his bonny wee nursemaid much longer. Fellow'll have to get used to the old crone. And me to him, worse luck. Still, at least he's walking. That's a blessing.”

Nessa opened her mouth and shut it again. It was hard to choose the words.

“I'll tell him later.”

“What are you saying?” His eyes were open now; she had forgotten how blue they were, summer-sky blue, spring-flower blue. “What is the old woman saying?”

“Tell him now,” Rona said sharply. “He's a grown man, not a child, and he's where he doesn't belong.”

“Eyvi.” Nessa's tone was hesitant. She cleared her throat. “I have to go home in a few days. Three days. I'm needed there, my mother is sick. Rona will look after you.”

There was a silence.

“I don't live here all the time,” she added. “I have stayed because you came. But I can't stay anymore. Rona is old. She'll help all she can, but you'll have to help too.”

“Where?” was all he said.

“Where what?”

“Where is home? Where are you going?”

“Up there.” She pointed northward. “Not far. I will come to see you when I can. It depends on the tide and…and other things.”

Rona was wrapping the fish in seaweed; she laid the neat, tight parcel in the embers. There was a hissing; steam rose.

“You live on the Whaleback?”

Nessa nodded.

“What's that he says?” asked Rona sourly.

“Nothing much. I have told him.”

“Tell him he needs to practice walking to the privy and back, and washing his own dishes. That'd be a good start.”

“What did she say?”

“She said she will look after you,” Nessa told him. “And she is glad you are stronger, because she's an old woman and can't do everything.”

“She cannot talk to me as you do, nor I to her,” he said quietly. “I must leave here, I see that. I am a burden, fit for nothing. I can walk now. I will go.” He set his jaw; she could tell he was trying to still the trembling.

“Where do you want to go?” she asked him. “Back to your friends? Home to the snow lands?”

“It doesn't matter.” His voice was flat; his hands were clenched together as he tried to conceal the shaking. “There is nowhere for me to go. Not like this. But I will go from here; it is not safe for you, not safe for her to shelter me.”