Cellin ensured all her children received some measure of education in literacy and numeracy. Hayland taught them to fight with a quarterstaff and improved their skills with the slings. Everybody hoped they would never need weapons, but danger and threats thrived in the world; Hayland always said preparation beat regret hands down.
Sallis never forgot Elvallon, nor his wish to learn and help others, but if the touch-healer kept his eye on the boy, nobody ever saw him. His parents, and to a lesser extent his sisters, hoped they never saw the touch-healer again. They did not want Sallis to leave and, after his initial bravado, even he had second thoughts.
***
After his ninth birthday, Hayland let Sallis come with him on the autumn drove. Local farmers took it in turns to act as drover, and Hayland's turn fell this year. Sallis had never left the farm before, except to help at neighboring farms, so he eagerly anticipated this new adventure. And great honor; taking part in a drove marked a rite of passage into manhood.
The drove would see the stock sold in Hendrek, little more than an overnight walk from their farm and not the world's greatest trek. But Sallis relished his relative freedom; after all, walking was a lot easier than many of his other chores.
The autumn weather held good for their long walk. Sallis guarded the drove's rear on the narrow track, allegedly to stop sheep from straying, but the piebald dog Penlow was the real shepherd. He and the leading dog, white with sharp-edged brown stripes and appropriately named Slash, kept the sheep together almost instinctively.
Hayland led, his cries of "Heiptro ho!" echoing about, warning other farmers to gather their livestock and prevent any being inadvertently swept into the drove.
Sallis reveled in it all. The air still held summer's warmth and wild fruits begged to be eaten. Fronds of bracken and fern waved above the low walls marking both sides of the drove road, an ancient track used for this purpose for centuries. Pastureland abounded and, in one or two places, ripening crops swayed in the gentle breeze. All around, the hills presented a glorious display of purple heather and the occasional tough tree with leaves starting to change color.
He and his father might as well be the only people in the entire world.
When they stopped for the night, Hayland showed Sallis how the large enclosures worked to prevent sheep from wandering away while the humans slept. Penlow and Slash lay across the enclosure's entrance, deterring both adventurous sheep and hungry foxes, while Hayland and Sallis prepared their bedrolls to one side. Father showed son how to bend and secure fern fronds to keep the weather off, should there be rain during the night.
They washed a cold meal of flatbread and cheese down with water, before they settled for the night.
"Get as much rest as you can, lad," said Hayland. "It's been a long day."
Sallis believed he was too excited for sleep. Tomorrow and he would see his first town, or at least something bigger than a clutch of farms. He poked his head out from his makeshift shelter and stared at the stars.
So many, filling the clear night sky; most faint, but many bright. And that white strip was no high cloud, but a band of densely packed stars. He began to name constellations and stars, hoping the Ark Star might put in an appearance. He listened to the night sounds and decided to stay awake, until...
... until Hayland shook him awake at dawn.
"A quick breakfast, then we move on," said the older man.
***
Hendrek awed Sallis and Hayland tried not to laugh at his son's wonderment.
Four roads entered the town, and all met at a central square, where the droves congregated. Not only sheep, but cattle, goats, pigs, geese and chickens filled every available space.
Buildings hemmed in the roads and intriguing alleys crisscrossed between the main thoroughfares. Most buildings were limewashed, but there the similarity with home ended. Houses were three, four and sometimes five levels high. Instead of the expected thatch, slate tiles roofed every building.
And the people!
Sallis had never before seen so many in one place. Women wore long gowns and the girls knee-length dresses. Boys and men wore billowing white shirts and snug breeches, although on the younger boys these barely reached the knee. Children went bare-headed, but women wore headscarves and the men either flat caps, like his father, or tall affairs that looked like short chimneys.
"We want this way." Hayland had to raise his voice to be heard over the racket of the square. "There's our pen."
Sallis was amazed that they did not lose a single sheep, mainly due to the watchfulness of Penlow and Slash than any skill he or his father showed. Rams showed interest in ewes they had never met before, but they were eventually herded into their pen with varying degrees of willingness.
Men and women, dressed in far grander clothes than Sallis had believed could exist, wandered through the throng, making offers and exchanging tokens.
Sallis stared all around and listened to the hawkers.
"Meat pies! Fresh today and still warm!"
"Cures for sheep rasp! Remedies for distemper and mange!"
"Fresh fruit! All picked today!"
He stared at the meat pie seller and licked his lips.
"Take care, lad," said his father, in a low voice. "Many of these street vendors lie like tooth-drawers."
"He says the pies are fresh."
"Aye, the pies maybe. But what about the meat that goes into 'em? You wouldn't be the first to suffer a bellyache. Be careful."
Sallis ignored the vendors after that. He listened as his father haggled with the buyers, eventually settling on twenty sceyts a head for the sheep.
"Is that good?" he whispered to his father.
"Not bad," replied Hayland. He shrugged. "Only a little less than last year, so maybe prices will recover soon."
Hayland exchanged tokens, so he could collect the contracts later.
"How do the other farmers know we won't tell them we got less and pocket the difference?"
Hayland gave his son a level look. "You are beginning to display a dishonest streak," he told him. "This is why we have the contracts, so everybody can see what we got for them."
"Is it safe to carry all that money about?"
Hayland laughed. "That's why it stays here. Every centage goes into the bank and they look after it for us, until needed."
"Is that why you come here so often?" Sallis was curious.
"It is. A necessary evil."
"Can I come with you next time?"
Hayland ruffled his son's dark hair. "Of course you can. Travel broadens the mind. And you might be better than me at finding new books."
***
Sallis managed one more trip to Hendrek with his father before winter descended. It turned into one of those rare winters when snow and ice lay thick on the ground for weeks at a time and the large black range in the kitchen burned day and night.
He and his father made a sledge for collecting firewood, as their huge stack depleted very quickly. Foxes grew bolder and were ever harder to drive away; they struggled to survive too.
Everybody waited eagerly for the first signs of spring. They welcomed the lengthening days, and the white snowdrops and yellow sunbursts that showed winter's iron grip had finally slipped.
This year marked the completion of Sallis's first decade. The first year he could help his father with the lambing unsupervised, ensuring the ewes were fine and free from complications. And that all the lambs were properly looked after, watching carefully for ewes who might reject their offspring.
The winter proved more resistant than normal to spring, so ewes and lambs needed rather more care than usual, at least in the early days of the season.
After two days and a night spent on the hills, Sallis and his father returned to the house, hungry for fresh stew. They found his mother and sisters at the range, all looking solemn.
A man stepped from the shadows, a familiar twinkle in his blue eyes, and his neat beard recently trimmed.
"Good mo
rning, Hayland," said Elvallon. "I trust all is going well? I have come for the boy."
***
Chapter 4 - About the Gift
Elvallon's cart rattled along the road and eventually crested the last pass. Sallis leaned forward and his mouth dropped open. Hills reared to both sides, smaller than the small mountains now behind them. Pastureland had now given way to arable fields. But this did not catch the boy's attention; that was seized by the vast plain running to the sea. From the road, Sallis stared at converging rivers and the wide estuary below.
The estuary plain was not completely flat; small hills rose here and there, farm buildings topping every one. Afternoon sunshine bathed them in a warm glow.
Polless, the large carthorse, snorted and shook his head with a jingle of brass, as if pleased for this unexpected rest. He lifted one hairy-fetlocked leg before stamping it down.
"The river floods now and then," said Elvallon. "That's why the farms are built on higher ground. And the floods help keep the plain fertile. The waste from over there also helps." He gestured inland.
At the head of the estuary, built where higher ground sloped to the plain, squatted the largest town Sallis had ever seen. At first he thought a small forest grew beside the city, before realizing he stared at ships' masts.
"Leynx," said Elvallon. "Capital of Re Annan."
"And largest city," added Sallis.
Elvallon said nothing to that, but stroked his short beard thoughtfully as he regarded the boy.
"Do you live there?"
"Nearby," replied Elvallon. "There is not enough room in the city for me to grow my herbs and food."
"You live on a farm?"
Elvallon laughed, a rich deep chuckle. "Nothing so grand. Perhaps cottage garden is a better description. I must still buy some of my food, and I keep no animals, other than Polless."
"Why do you need herbs if you just touch people to make them better?" pressed Sallis.
"Because not everybody needs to be touched to be healed. Some only need a few herbs to make them feel better, because they convince themselves they are ill when, in fact, they are not."
"They waste your time?"
The twinkle in Elvallon's eyes grew. "When people pay for my time, they are not wasting it. Remember that, young Sallis, your first lesson from me."
"I don't understand how touching someone can heal them," said Sallis. He had mentioned this every day since leaving home.
And received the same answer. "You will learn how soon enough," promised Elvallon.
"I hope nothing ever goes wrong with your crops while you are away," said Sallis, still staring at Leynx. "Are they looked after by magic too?"
Elvallon's laughter boomed again. "Someone looks after my crops when I'm away. When I'm home as well."
"A neighbor?"
"Better than that." Elvallon clicked the reins. "Come on Polly, else we'll never get there."
Polless shook his head and snorted again, before starting the cart with a slight jerk.
Elvallon turned back to Sallis. "Nearly there now."
***
Elvallon's home stood on the estuary, downriver from Leynx. The healer had not lied; his home really was little more than a cottage, though not quite as small as he had intimated. Sallis was not too disappointed to be outside Leynx, because he could look to the city from Elvallon's cottage and admire the fine buildings there. The town sprawled across higher ground, with few tall buildings, and Sallis could still see the ships' masts.
"The ships have to pass here to get to sea," Elvallon told him. "They're always heading up- or downriver. Depending on the tide, of course."
Seabirds were much in evidence and Sallis watched those circling overhead, or pecking hopefully on the mudflats. Mostly gulls and terns, there were some strange birds with long orange beaks that were new to him. He sniffed at the air.
"I read you can smell the sea when you're close to it," he said. "I smell nothing different."
Elvallon laughed.
"Is it untrue? Or is something wrong with my sense of smell?"
"On Re Annan, we're never far from the sea," smiled Elvallon. "You're just used to the smell already."
"Oh."
"Let's get Polless sorted and then you can have a look around."
The carthorse was soon comfortable in his stall, tucking into oats.
"Don't worry about his tack," said Elvallon, dumping it in one corner, "it'll get sorted later. I'll show you around now."
Unlike Sallis's family home, this house had only one level, with the stable attached. Liberally applied lime-wash made the whole building white under the thatch that covered the roof. As they went inside, Sallis saw one end of the cottage formed a large living area, with a smaller version of his mother's black range to one side. A round wooden table with four chairs, a workbench with herbs spread over it, more benches for preparing food and rows of kitchen utensils took up one side of the room.
On the other side, on slate flagstones covered with a scrap of rug, sat two large chairs, badly in need of new upholstery. There were also three long shelves full of books. Sallis had never seen so many in one place before.
A peculiar smell hung in the air that Sallis didn't recognize. He said nothing, but could not make up his mind if the smell was bad or not. Or perhaps merely unusual. Certainly not Elvallon's scent.
Two doors led to storerooms. Elvallon kept his food out of harm's way in one of them, and his jars of preserved, crushed herbs in another. A further door led to a narrow corridor with three rooms leading off.
"Thought we'd put you in here," said Elvallon, opening the middle door.
Sallis stared.
Bright sunshine filled the room and Sallis guessed the rooms all faced south to catch as much sun as possible. Shelves and storage areas for clothes and his other effects - not that he had brought much with him - lined one wall. Mats covered the floor, made from some marsh plant or other, and which Sallis guessed he would have to change regularly. Walls and ceiling were painted yellow. A proper bed, instead of a pallet like he had at home, took up one wall, already made up as if he was expected.
"Feather mattress?" he asked.
Elvallon nodded. "And feather pillow and brushed wool blankets," he added.
The large bedroom window had blue outer and inner shutters he could close for privacy. It looked towards the estuary. Pleased with the room, Sallis grinned.
Elvallon led him back into the corridor and pointed to a fourth door at the far end Sallis had not noticed. "Washroom and privy. We've got plenty of water; a spring rises under there, supplies the wash basin and flushes the privy."
Sallis nodded, but his attention was not on the privy. "One of these is your bedroom, but what about the last one?"
"Both these rooms are private," said Elvallon. "This one is mine. Keep your room tidy and we will respect your privacy. We only ask that you respect ours."
"We?"
Elvallon smiled. "Have you seen outside? Let me show you around my herb-garden."
Outside, Elvallon explained how much exercise Polless needed.
"I lend him out at ploughing time, which he hates."
Sallis laughed. "He's just a horse."
"I can tell you don't own any horses at home," grumped Elvallon. "If you were more familiar with them, you'd know they've all got personalities of their own. You try getting mine to do anything he doesn't want to."
Sallis stared.
Behind the house, Elvallon showed his new charge where the estuary flowed past. A small, empty wooden quay led across mud to deeper water.
"You don't have a boat," pointed out Sallis.
"Yes I do," replied Elvallon, leading the boy back around the house. "You've just not seen it yet. Right, here's where I grow my herbs..."
Sallis could not hide his yawns.
"Ah, you must be tired." Elvallon smiled. "A quick bite to eat and then an early night, so you will be fresh in the morning."
"What will we eat?" asked Sallis. "I
smelled nothing cooking."
The other's smile broadened and he leaned forward. "Time for your second lesson," he whispered.
***
"Cold broth?"
Sallis looked at the two bowls on the range in disappointment.
"Hot broth," corrected Elvallon. "With bread rolls."
"That is not hot."
"It will be in less than a minute," smiled Elvallon. "Every day you have asked me about the Gift and what it is. Here is your first demonstration and explanation."
Sallis stared.
"The Gift grants ways of making things happen that otherwise could or should not. It is the power that led to the creation of everything we see. The world, stars, everything. It's within everything, including us, only most can't touch it. But without it, we would not be, because nothing would exist."
"How come some people can touch it?" asked Sallis.
"A skill granted by the Father, or Siranva."
Sallis's eyes widened. "Mother says it is bad to name... Him."
"Over-familiar perhaps," shrugged Elvallon, "but not bad."
"You will make the broth hot, but how?"
"As I said, this power is in everything, so it's a matter of using the Gift within me to connect and change the Gift within that." Elvallon gestured to the broth. "That's how I touch-heal. The Gift within me connects to the Gift within the sick person, but I manipulate that to make the patient better again."
"But it is really the Gift within the sick man doing the work?"
"A quick student." Elvallon's glance held increased respect. "That's why you felt so tired afterwards. And why sometimes I must use herbs, if the other person is very weak. The very best of touch-healers can use their own strength to heal using the Gift, but I am not so exalted."
"Oh."
"On the other hand, you have the potential to be among the best."
Sallis blinked again. "You said this broth will be hot in less than a minute."
"It is hot now."
Sallis stared at the bowls. Vapor rose gently from the broth. "You didn't touch it!"
"I don't have to. It wasn't the broth I heated, but the air around the bowls. I am touching that."
The smell of the broth reached Sallis now and Elvallon nodded. He wrapped a cloth around his hands and carried both bowls to the table, where Sallis broke the crusty bread roll.
"That bowl's hot," warned Elvallon.
Sallis nodded. "Why can't the Gift be learned?" he asked around a mouthful of bread.