The Hermit of Lammas Wood

  Tanyth snorted. “I wanted to be fresh for today. Not sure I’m up to tomorrow.”

  Rebecca laughed at her mutterings and waved her ahead.

  True to her word, Penny led them to a sheltered bend in the canyon. An undercut bank provided a bit of cover over them, and a sand bank deposited by some long-gone flood gave them padding against the seemingly endless black rock. Somebody had scraped a fire pit in the sand; the remains of the last fire lay in the shallow hole. The surrounding banks and mounds sheltered them from the worst of the noise from the river.

  Penny shed her pack in the shade of the bank. Tanyth and Rebecca followed suit.

  “We need to find firewood before dark,” she said. “There’s a stand of trees just over this rise.” She pointed to the bank above their heads. “Should be enough blowdowns up there.”

  Tanyth and Rebecca followed the young woman up and into a stand of trees. The spring was still too new for them to have grown full leaves; most limbs sported little more than catkins. The smell of fresh forest went a long way toward flushing the scent of mud and stone from their noses.

  It took only a few minutes for them to each gather a goodly armload of wood and return to their campsite. As they hunkered down to the business of lighting a fire and making tea, Tanyth eyed Penny.

  “What is it, mum?” the young woman asked.

  “Back in town you said you’d come out to visit your grandmother a few times over the years.”

  “Aye, and I have.”

  “You seem pretty familiar with the path,” she said. “How to get down the canyon face. How to cross the river. Even where to find dinner.” She jutted her chin in the direction of the fish laid out on the sand. “How often to do you get out here?”

  Penny grinned. “This is my first trip this spring. I came out a couple of times this winter. Snow shoes work really well once the snows get packed down by the wind a bit.”

  “What do you do out here?” Rebecca asked. “And in the winter?”

  “Winter, mostly just to get away from town. There’s some caves up ahead. We’ll be staying in them tomorrow night before we drop down into the Valley of a Thousand Smokes. They’re right snug and warm in winter.” She looked up at the mountains around them, so tall they seemed to be peeking down into their modest camp. “It’s beautiful out here. That’s reason enough.”

  Tanyth squinted at her. “That’s not the only reason, is it?”

  Penny grinned and shook her head. A spark caught in the bit of fluff as she worked, and she leaned down to blow it gently into flame before thrusting it into the pyramid of small twigs she’d laid. “Midwife don’t make much,” she said without looking up. She puffed another bit of life into the fire. “Most folks in town that need my help can’t pay much for the service. I get some of what I need in barter, but...” Her voice trailed off. She didn’t look away from the fire.

  “What’s out here?” Tanyth asked.

  “Gold.”

  “Gold?” Rebecca asked, her voice rising in surprise.

  Penny looked at her and gave a half-smile. “Yeah. I come out here and poke around a few times a year. I usually find enough to pay for the things I can’t get from customers. Like the taxes on my house.”

  “How can you hide somethin’ like that in a place as small as Northport?” Tanyth asked, hunkering down beside the fire.

  “I couldn’t and I don’t. I package the nuggets up and send them to my agent in Kleesport a few times a year. I get cash back in the return post.” She pushed a few more twigs onto the fire, building it slowly. “I was hopin’ Captain Groves would have something for me, but one of the other ships prob’ly has the mail contract for the season.”

  “How do you know they’re not cheatin’ ya?” Rebecca asked.

  “I expect they are,” Penny said. “But as long as I get enough back to keep payin’ my bills, I don’t really care.” She looked up at the mountains surrounding them. “Bein’ out here is glorious. I’d prob’ly come out anyway, but this way I get a little icin’ on my cake.”

  Tanyth felt the thrum of the earth under her feet. She stood and looked to the north, visualizing a prayer in her mind as she faced—quite literally—the guardians of the north. She turned and looked to the east, and a gust of spruce-scented air blew into her lungs. Turning to the south, she had an uninterrupted view of a distant band of clouds painted in golden fire by the setting sun. Looking westward, the evening sky looked almost as translucent as the water in the pools they’d crossed that afternoon. The blue unsullied by cloud or sun, the high bank cast their campsite in shadow and blocking Tanyth’s view of the horizon. She turned north again, feeling the rightness around her. Sensing the flow of life surrounding them. Feeling her tiredness leeching down into the dirt beneath her feet as if in exchange for strength drawn from the rocks themselves.

  “Mum?” Rebecca asked. “You all right?”

  Tanyth blinked and looked down into their two faces. “Yes, my dear. Why do you ask?”

  Rebecca shook her head. “No reason. Just—you seemed far away all of a sudden.”

  Penny’s eyes showed white all around as she stared at Tanyth. “You’ve got power, mum,” she whispered, then shook her head as a giggle escaped her lips. “I mean, I shoulda guessed it with all the talk of owls and such, but you’re touched by the Lord and Lady, no question.”

  “Oh, tosh,” Tanyth said with a wave of her hand. “I’m an old fool pokin’ around the backwoods where I prob’ly don’t belong.”

  But she looked back to the mountains—the solid earth beneath her feet, the spruce-scent-laden air in her nose—and knew that she was exactly where she belonged.

  Chapter Fourteen:

  Canyon Dreams

  Night crept across the canyon, the floor growing nearly dark while the snow-capped crest of Ole Man still glowed in ruddy sunset. The roar of the river seemed quieter somehow as the day’s light faded into night. Eventually even the mountain became little more than a dark shadow blotting out the starry sky. Tanyth set a pot of oatmeal to cook after their meal of fish and camp bread.

  “What’ll we run into tomorrow?” Rebecca asked with a sidelong glance at Penny.

  “Nothin’ special. We’ve had most of our fun,” she said. “Day after we’ll get into Thousand Smokes. That’s pretty but won’t do much to hold us up. Gran’s cottage is up the valley a bit, tucked up against the roots of Crater Mountain.”

  Rebecca glanced at Tanyth and gave a half-smile. “Fun, she calls it.”

  “Well, ’tweren’t borin’,” Tanyth said, pushing the oatmeal a little closer to the coals.

  “I’ll give you that,” Rebecca said. “Wonder what happened to them soldiers.”

  Penny tossed a bit of twig into the fire. “That’s the real question, I’m thinkin’. We didn’t see hide nor hair all day.”

  “Were you lookin’?” Rebecca asked, looking up from the fire in surprise.

  “Oh, yeah. There was a couple places we’d have seen ’em if they were on our trail. Didn’t spot anything.”

  Tanyth shrugged. “Might be they was just being cagey.”

  “Can you get your owl to look tonight?” Penny asked, looking over to Tanyth.

  “Well, she’s not my owl, and I don’t gen’rally get to pick. Sometimes yeah, sometimes no.” She shrugged. “I don’t usually know until after it’s done.”

  Penny stared hard at her for a moment. “Gen’rally,” she said.

  “Yeah.”

  “Mum, you got a gift,” the younger woman said when Tanyth didn’t offer any more.

  “Maybe. That’s why I need to meet your gran. I can’t think of anybody else who’d be able to help me.”

  Penny’s eyes drifted back to the fire’s glow. “Yeah. If she’ll talk to ya. She is a hermit, ya know.”

  “I knew the risk before I left,” Tanyth said.

  “Should we set a watch?” Rebecca asked.

  Penny looked at her, then up at the sky. “We could. I’ve never had a probl
em, but then I’d prob’ly not survive the first one.”

  “What about bears?” Tanyth asked.

  “Never run into one. I seen ’em off and on, but they tend to shy away from smoke, fires, and people. Their hides fetch a pretty good price, and they’re not stupid beasts.”

  “Two-legged varmints?” Tanyth asked.

  Penny smiled. “Never had a problem with any of them, either. Out here, most everybody’s alone. Trappers don’t wanna share their traplines. Lumberjacks don’t cross the canyon. It’s too tough to get the lumber back to town, and there’s more’n enough trees closer in. Hunters are hunters. They don’t usually run in packs and when they do, they make enough noise to rouse ya. Anybody out walkin’ around in the dark of night in the mountains gen’rally don’t do it more than once or twice.”

  After a moment, Rebecca asked, “So, that’s no?”

  Penny grinned at her, her teeth white against the darkness behind her. “Yeah. That’s a no.” She tossed another small branch onto the coals and stood, brushing ash and dirt off her pants . “I’m gonna get some sleep. Morning’ll be chilly and I’m lookin’ forward to that oatmeal.”

  With that she grabbed her pack, moved up under the overhanging bank, and laid out her bedroll to settle in for the night.

  Tanyth and Rebecca shared a glance and a shrug, then followed her lead.

  Tanyth laid her bedroll out, taking care to pick all the sticks and rocks out of the soil. There weren’t many. In moments she had her boots off, tucked into her bedroll, and found herself curled up in a snug ball. The glowing fire outside painted the rocks in flickering light but not so bright that it obscured the brilliant display of stars in the sky. The top edge of the moon rose over the ridge on the far side of the canyon as Tanyth slid over the brink into sleep.

  The humans had gone, leaving only the scent of their scat and a drift of smoke where they’d had a fire. She sat quietly on the broken spruce and watched, listening for the rustle that meant food. The warmth she’d gained from the small meal she’d had was already a fading memory; she needed more food.

  A faint stirring in the grass below drew her attention. Something moved almost silently among the longer grasses. Her eyes picked out a darker patch of shadow, but she held. It wouldn’t do to move too quickly. Best be sure.

  The shadow moved ever so slightly, the rustling sound drifting on the night breeze.

  She leaned forward and let momentum carry her off the limb, releasing the scabby bark from her talons and swinging them forward as she fell toward the dinner that awaited her.

  The shock of her landing broke the mouse’s back. He died soundlessly. She reached down with her bill and flipped him down her throat, working the small carcass into her gullet where it could digest slowly over time. The warm meat filled her again, and she scanned the area to see if any other meal might be lurking.

  Seeing nothing, she launched herself into the dark sky once more. Four powerful beats of her rounded wings lifted her high enough to soar out of the small ravine and across the parkland beyond. Far away that big male hooted again. Perhaps he’d be a suitable mate for her brood this season. His persistent call spoke of a strong protector with a good hunting ground.

  She caught an updraft and let it throw her up into the sky, the bowl of the park cupped under her. She circled once, twice...looking for the group of men. They would have a fire. She scanned for the light as she drifted north and west, the rising moon giving her more than enough light to see the forests below. As she neared the ridge line there was still no sign of the humans.

  She twisted her wings and swung around to fly along the length of the ridge, heading toward the big water far away. She’d been there once. Food was plentiful there in the summer, she remembered.

  She felt the warmth of the meal seeping into her belly and her wings found joy in the night’s wind—cold though it was. She soared along the ridge, looking for a suitable roost. She might hunt again before morning, but a cozy roost would protect her from the cold. She dropped closer to the treetops and saw a likely branch. As she flew in a circle around it, a red glow caught her eye and she changed course.

  On silent wings she soared through the pines and spruces, over-flying the humans as they lay huddled around their glowing fire. She fetched up in the dense top of a gnarled pine. It would be a good place to shelter from the wind for the night and to seek protection from the sunlight when the day came again.

  Besides. The humans might leave more food behind that called fat mice to her dinner.

  She preened her primaries and fluffed her feathers a bit before huddling down on the broad pine limb and gripping firmly with her talons. She set herself to wait and watch.

  “Well, they ain’t followin’,” Tanyth muttered to the moon. She edged out of her bedroll and padded to the fire pit. Hunkering down, she held her chilly fingers to the glowing coals, taking a moment to add another small branch.

  A step in the sand behind her gave her warning before Rebecca spoke. “You all right, mum?”

  “Aye. I’m fine. Our garrison friends seem to have gone south instead of followin’ us.”

  “You had a dream?”

  “Indeed I did.”

  “Well, I’m glad they’re not followin’ us,” she said.

  “Me, too.”

  After a moment, Rebecca asked, “What’ll you do when you get to Gertie Pinecrest’s place?”

  Tanyth gave a half-shrug without looking up from the fire. “Depends on what she does, I s’pect. If she’s as elusive as Penny says, it may take a while to get through to her.”

  “But you don’t think she’s gonna be?”

  “Nope. If she’s really the teacher I need to find out about all this dreaming and visions and all, I’d guess she already knows we’re comin’.”

  “How?”

  Tanyth gave a quiet chuckle. “Who knows? Maybe she’s got an owl of her own. Or a raccoon. Maybe she talks to the trees, and they whisper their secrets to her on the wind.”

  Rebecca’s eyes turned to the stand of spruces above them on the bank. “They do kinda sound like whispers,” she said.

  Tanyth grinned at her. “You’ll be hearin’ ’em next,” she said and turned her face up to the moon high in the sky overhead. “I think I’m gonna try to get some more sleep.”

  Rebecca dropped another small bit of wood on the fire and followed her back under the bank.

  Chapter Fifteen:

  A Touch Of Weather

  The morning dawned gray and overcast. The wind blew up the valley, and the air lay heavy and moist. Tanyth stirred the oatmeal in the pot and stoked up the fire.

  “We gonna get wet now?” she asked, looking to Penny.

  Penny stood sniffing the wind and eyeing the scudding clouds. “This could be nasty if we’re out in it.”

  “Rain?” Tanyth asked. “Or snow?”

  Penny shook her head. “Can’t really tell. Storms like this blow up outa nothin’. This time a’year? Rain’s possible. Snow’s possible. Things are too warm for freezin’ rain, but it’ll be cold enough you’ll think it’s freezin’.”

  Rebecca huddled next to the fire. “So? Is it better to stay here another night and wait it out? Or keep goin’ and hope we can find shelter when we get there?”

  “Well, if we can make it to the caves by tonight, we’ll be comfortable enough.”

  “And if we can’t?” Rebecca asked.

  “Could get wet. Could get dead. Could just have a blustery day on the trail,” Penny said. “Can’t really tell until it hits, and then we’ll know.”

  “So we could sit here all day and just have it be like this? Threatenin’ but not actually doin’ anything?”

  “Yep. That’s about the size of it.”

  “My vote is eat up and head out. If it gets too bad, we’ll have to hunker down,” Tanyth said. “There pines and spruces the whole way?”

  “Not the whole way, no. One exposed ridge is all.”

  Rebecca snorted. “If it’s go
nna storm, it’ll happen then.”

  Tanyth laughed. “Prob’ly so. I still vote for going.”

  Penny nodded her head, slowly at first but with increasing conviction. “Yeah. I think that’s the right choice. I don’t really wanna be here in the canyon if there’s much rain fallin’ in the high country either.”

  “Whyzzat?” Rebecca asked.

  “Rain gets concentrated in the valley. Couple inches in the mountains is a couple of feet down here,” Penny said.

  “Then I vote with Tanyth,” Rebecca said. She ducked under the overhang to pack up her bedroll while Tanyth finished heating up the oatmeal.

  In fewer minutes than it took them to decide, they’d eaten, packed, and broken camp.

  Penny led the way along a path between tall spruces, the heavy canopy giving them some shelter from the wind. As they walked the wind’s sighing in the treetops became moaning. They pressed hard through the morning, keeping an eye on the sky when they could see it through the trees. They stopped only briefly at noon to chew on travel rations washed down with cold water in the half-twilight of the cloud-shrouded canopy.

  “We gonna make it?” Tanyth asked as they strapped their packs on once more.

  “We’re gonna make it,” Penny said. “We may be soaked to the skin by the time we get there, but we’ll make it.” Her smile brightened the dark woods.

  A few yards down the trail they broke out into the open.

  “This is the ridge. We’ll cross over the saddle here and then back down into the pines on the other side. We’re more than halfway there already,” Penny said. “We’ll only be in the open a few minutes.”

  The words no sooner left her mouth than the sky opened up, and rain drenched them in noisy torrents.

  “Long enough to get soaked,” Tanyth shouted, thankful for her broad hat brim.

  Penny grimaced and trudged away through the downpour, water already dripping from the back of her pack.