The Journey From Oidhche Shamhna

The Journey From Oidhche Shamhna

Chapter 4

Gryffin

Gryffin hefted the blade and grinned at his older brother. He used both arms to bring the heavy iron over his head, and then swing it in a circle and brought it arcing down heavily in the stump with a resounding whack.

"You missed." Petur laughed. "Again."

Gryffin adjusted his grip on the blade and readjusted his stance, concentrating on keeping his elbows locked and his shoulders back, he again swung the blade. Twice it circled his head before the blow came to rest on the rune etched into the wood of the stump.

"Fine," Petur said. "Now if you get two chances in battle you will live. If you don't get the second chance I can sing your praises at your funeral pyre."

"This sword is slow and off balance." Gryffin scowled, wiping the sweat off his face with the back of his hand as he leaned down to rest gulping air.

"That is why you practice with it. Learn to wield this and a good sword will work for you effortlessly." Petur walked over to inspect the stump that still held the blade, noting the depth and angle of the cut.

"Now, enough of the sword." Petur pulled out two wands and tossed one to Gryffin.

Gryffin looked around uneasily. Many still considered the use of magic in battle womanly, and shameful, but he and Petur had seen the battles of the men that now lived on the lands near them. These men of light and finely crafted swords and arrows too numerous to count were coming close. They knew if their homes fell under attack, they would need more than strength and weapons old when their fathers had been young to survive. They would call on the old magic and unleash its fury on the men that came to build stone cities on the place their dwellings sat.

They practiced long after it was dark, throwing curses and practicing casting shields to protect others. This battle would not be on a field of honour; this battle would be in their homes to protect the woman and babies that lay asleep on their cots. This battle would not be to see who gained the land or won the herd, this battle would be to stop blood from feeding the ground. They practiced curses no longer allowed to be uttered, and no longer taught by the elders.

Lara stood watching them from a small stand of woods, wanting to take part in the practice herself, but knowing they would not allow her. She practiced either alone or with other woman from the tribe. She winced, seeing curse after curse hit its mark, knowing that this was not the practice of boys and both would be sore for long after.

"If you keep that up the others will see the light flashes, they will know what you two are doing," she chided them as she walked out into the clearing. "Do you think your green and blue curses will go unseen?"

"How long have you been spying this time?" Gryffin scowled at her.

"Just long enough to see that your brother can still beat you." She walked up to Gryffin and shook her finger at him. "You don't concentrate. You don't take it seriously."

Gryffin looked at Lara and Petur and sighed. He gave the wand back to Petur and went to pick up the blade where it had been tossed to the ground near the stump.

"I have not had the time to practice as I should. I will be gone a week. When I get back I can practice every day."

"It's a waste," she spat. "What need do we have of another teacher when our world is soon to be gone. We need warriors and builders, not more teachers."

"I will leave you two to argue." Petur looked at the two and shook his head, laughing. "I hope when you finally claim her she settles down, Gryffin. She is the most combative witch I know. She needs a dozen sons to keep her busy."

Gryffin walked over to Lara and grabbed her, pulling her into his body. "You just have to know how to quiet witches." He grinned and then leaned down, covering her mouth with his.

"I see," Petur said, smiling widely. "It does seem to work - at least she is quiet."

Lara turned red, but did not pull away from Gryffin. Leaning into him, she parted her lips, inviting him to taste her, as she ran her tongue over his lips.

"My gods, Lara," he breathed. "How much longer must we wait?"

"Until my father realizes I am not going to agree to his choice." She pulled back and looked up at him. "Unless you just claim me, and then we can tell him. He would have no say."

"Gods." He pulled her close again and captured her mouth, running one hand down her back as his other held her head still, his fingers tangling in her hair.

"I want more than your stolen kisses," she said, pulling away. "I want to be with you, to fight with you and to go with you to the test."

"When I get back I will have you," he whispered into her hair. "With or without your father's permission, I plan on claiming you."

"We don't have to wait," she said shyly, turning red. "I don't want to."

"Gods, Lara." He gently pushed her back from him. "I cannot. You know we must wait. If I did this, and anything happened to me...you would be ruined and forbade to marry again."

"I will miss you." She pouted.

"Enough of this." He took her arm and guided her back towards the village. "You drive me to distraction, witch. How do you expect me to focus on my studies when you act this way?"

"I don't care." She looked up at him, her lips still swollen from his kisses. "I want you to focus on me, not on that silly test. I am the oldest witch not claimed. My father is threatening to force me to marry someone from the new religion. He says he wants to wait no longer for grandsons."

Gryffin stopped walking and pulled her around by her elbow. "When did he say this?"

"Last night, at the fire." She looked at the ground to hide her face. "He can force this. He can take the bride's price and be done with me."

"Lara," he said, tipping her chin up to make her look at him. "I will not let that happen. I have spoken to him of my intent. He knows I want you. He would not do this."

"And he knows that when we leave here I will go with you to your hearth. He means to keep me here. He is too old to leave." She pulled away from him and continued to walk.

"I will think of something. You cannot stay near his religion," Gryffin said with a frown. "Meet me tonight, meet me by the oak."

Gryffin strode off to the river where he took off his robes and bathed in the cold water. He could not stop thinking of Lara, nor what her father wanted for her. The strange man had been welcomed into the village when he wed a witch of the clan, but he had never given up his ways and taken to theirs. Now he planned to take Lara to his God. His God was a god that did not suffer witches and the men of his God demanded their deaths.

Gryffin cursed aloud and looked up to the stars, closed his eyes and offered a prayer for protection. He would claim her tonight. He would protect her with his life if that is what the gods needed and expected to keep her safe.

That night, after the evening meals, when the village quieted, Gryffin took up his cloak and hurried outside. He skirted around to the back of the village and watched the back entrance to Lara's dwelling. Finally, he saw her come out and squat down. Keeping low to the ground, she quickly looked over her shoulder before hiding behind the pile of peat kept near for the dwelling's fire. Bringing his hands up to cup his mouth, he gave a soft blow between his thumbs, creating the sound of a young owl.

Lara grinned and with one more hasty glance over her shoulder ran to where he stood hidden in the nearby woods. He stood as she approached and caught her up in his arms, lowering his head and kissing her eyes and nose, then her cheeks before covering her moans with his mouth.

She leaned into him, needing to feel his closeness and felt his arousal through his robes. She moaned again, knowing that he felt the same as she, and pressed her lips harder into his.

"Lara." Her name slipped from his mouth and tasted like honey on his tongue. "Lara, tonight?"

She understood his meaning and nodded her consent, taking his hand and pulling him farther into the woods. There, she found a patch of moss under the canopy of trees through which only the moon shone and, lifting her robe over her head, she spread it on the ground and sat upon it. Looking back at Gryffin, she watched as he lifted his robe and stood naked in front of her.

He then fell to his knees and showed her the slender knife he had brought with him. Cutting his right palm open, he looked into her eyes as she raised her left hand to him. Taking the knife, and poising it over her left palm, he waited for her nod before cutting her hand from thumb to little finger, drawing the knife swiftly. He saw the blood pool in the cup of her palm and when it could hold no more he took her left hand in his right, allowed their blood to mingle, and offered his prayer to the gods of his hearth as she echoed his song. He gently pushed her back to the ground, and, holding her left hand to the ground over her head with his right, he claimed her for the first time as his wife.

They laid together until morning. As the sun rose on the horizon, he sat up and looked at her. He took his robe and slipped it over his head, grinning at her as he did.

"It is going to be a long walk with no sleep, witch." He leaned down to kiss her again and felt her arms go around his neck.

"So soon?" She reddened as she lowered her hand to feel him through his robes. "Maybe we need to say goodbye as a wife says goodbye to a husband?"

He moaned and let his hand wander over her body before he surrendered to her desires. Lifting his robes over his hips, he gladly lowered himself to her again and felt rewarded when he heard her gasps of pleasure, and felt her nails in his back as she reached under his robes to cling to him. He said her name softly, as if in a prayer, and understood then what it would mean to lose her.

.

.

By the time they walked hand in hand back to the village, everyone knew they were together. He took her first to the home Petur and he shared and, showing their hands to his brother, they kneeled for his blessing before entering the home.

"It's about time." Petur laughed as they rose. "I wondered why you two waited this long. I am happy for you both and the sons that will follow."

"I have yet to tell my father," Lara said nervously.

"Ah, so that is what this long face is about." Petrus kissed his new sister on the cheek and led her into the dwelling. "Offer the blessings to your new home and greet our gods, then go to him."

She smiled and ran to the bowl, took a fist full of the strong-smelling herbs and flung them into the fire. She used her hands to pull the heavy smoke toward her face, breathing in the smoke and the gods' blessings into her being. In a short prayer, she introduced herself to the gods of the dwelling and thanked them for their welcome before turning back to the brothers.

"Gryffin," she said as she heard the flames sputter. "When you leave today, might I go with you?"

"No, you need to stay here." He frowned at her boldness. "For one moon you know to stay in this dwelling."

"I know Gryffin, but if you are not here..."

"No, Lara." He crossed his arms and looked down at her. "If it was just us I would not care for custom. However, the clan will want the old ways kept. It is not too much to ask. This last thing you do for them."

"I know," she said softly. "I just wanted to... well, I wanted to..."

"I know what you want." He laughed, pulling her to her feet. "Trust me when I say if you were to come I would miss the test. We would be too busy with more earthly things."

Lara slapped his hands until he released her, turning red as Petur's laughter joined his brother's.

"Come." Gryffin held out his hand to her. "For your last outing of the month we must see your father. But first..."

He turned her around and grabbed her hair, twisting it in his fist and pulling it tight up to the back of her head. Petur brought him a set of combs that had belonged to their mother and fastened her golden strands in place.

"Here." Petur held out a white cap that Lara took and fit on snugly over her now-unseen hair. Petur then placed a black cloth over her head and shoulders and kissed her on both cheeks in turn.

"I am sure there is a certain way that women do the welcoming, but this is the best you can expect in the dwelling of only men. Welcome to the hearth, sister, wife of my brother and mother to his children." He smiled at her then held back the curtain for them to leave.

She ducked down and left with Gryffin joining her, taking up her hand and walking silently beside her. They kept their eyes looking ahead despite the giggles and calls they heard tossed at them from their clansmen and neighbours. They could not greet anyone as husband and wife until both families blessed them and Lara was already so red Gryffin would tease her about this walk for weeks.

As they were approaching her father's dwelling they saw him walking towards them with a scowl and wearing the black robes of his priesthood from his time before joining their tribe.

"Father." Lara greeted him with a slight nod as they stopped walking and stood silently looking at the ground.

"Lara." He nodded back at her, clasped his hands behind his back and walked in a circle around the couple, keeping his head lowered and his anger in check.

"I take it you have made your decision. I take it you have decided to throw away everything we wanted for you," he hissed into her face. "Everything your dead mother prayed for is gone. I will undo this. I will make sure you do better if I have to beat you into it."

"This is my wife you speak to, old man." Gryffin pushed the wizard back, placing his body between that of his wife and this man's anger. "I have claimed her, the binding is complete. We are here only as a courtesy, a courtesy I grant my wife to allow you to stay in her life."

"She has shown disrespect to her ways. I will not honor this binding. God will not allow this."

"She follows the ways of her mother, not your Roman ways." Gryffin fisted his hands but held them to his sides. "You are only allowed to stay here out of respect for her mother. Your ways and the way you worship your God are not welcomed here."

"Blasphemy!" he raged and shook his fists at the younger man. "How dare you shun God?"

"We do not shun your God, old man, only your worship of him." Gryffin put his arm around Lara's waist and pulled her close. "I see only hate and anger in your worship, not joy and wonder as it is taught."

"Father," Lara said as tears spilled down her face, "I am sorry."

Gryffin turned to her, releasing her from his hold and stepping back. "Sorry?"

"Gryffin, not of us, not of our binding." She spoke quickly for fear he would misunderstand. "Only for him, for his anger at us."

"You must be married in the eyes of God, you must take holy sacrement." Her father began pacing. "You have sinned in the flesh, you have defiled..."

"Enough!" Gryffin grabbed Lara's arm and pulled her behind him again. "Your God is welcomed here, but you are not. The blasphemy is in your worship, not in us. This tribe accepted you into this clan only because of Lara's mother. She is gone now, a spirit not welcomed at her own hearth."

"Gryffin, no, please." Lara pulled on his arm. "Please, we will just leave him."

"No, Lara," he said, keeping his eyes on the old priest. "I will take this to the elders. They will acknowledge our binding and banish him. He does not hold to our ways."

"He has no place to go," she whispered to him. "What will happen to him?"

"Let him go back to the Romans," Gryffin spat and dragged Lara away from the angry man.

On the walk back to the dwelling, the calls from the neighbours stopped, and whispers began. Whispers of their failure to get the blessings, whispers about the bad luck that they would face, and whispers that they were not truly bound together followed them home. Gryffin walked quickly, almost dragging Lara behind until he finally pushed her into the house. He stomped into the dwelling, calling Petur and pacing in front of the fire.

"He dared to tell us we ..."

"I heard," Petur said. "The whole village heard."

"She should have her family planning her binding feast. They should be offering her prayers and praising her," he fumed. "They should be baking sweet cakes and offering to her gods, Instead, she comes here in shame."

"Gryffin," she, said taking his arm, "it is not important. I do not need all that. I knew he would not accept this. I don't care what they say of me."

"I will talk to the elders while you are gone. In the meantime, Lara must stay here for one moon." Petur looked up at the roof and shook his head. "However, why she has to keep to tradition and stay in her husband's home while he is not here is beyond me."

"I know," Gryffin said with a grin. "I hardly think we can make a son if I am not home to do it."

"Gryffin!" Lara whispered loudly. "Enough, I am here in front of you!"

"I know." He reached and pulled her to him playfully. "That is why I want to send my brother outside."

"Gryffin!" She swatted at him, laughing. "Now I will be the good wife and get your things together for your trip."

She looked around the unfamiliar dwelling and wrinkled her nose, looking at the larder next to the fire pit. She picked up a long iron pole used to hold up the kettle over the coals and scowled when she felt the grease that covered it. She held her tongue and used the pole to poke into the larder only to find rotted berries and un-roasted nuts.

"Surely you don't eat this," she said, leaning over and looking into the box. "How long has this been sitting here?"

"Umm," Petur said, looking at Gryffin.

"That is Petur's job," he said quickly, and then looked at his brother sheepishly.

"Petur!" She turned to scold him and caught the look between the brothers. "Oh good gods, just take this out in the woods and dump it."

She stood and put her hands on her hips, tapping her foot. "Now."

"She's your wife," Petur grumbled.

"It's your house," Gryffin shot back.

"It is your dinner you both won't be getting." Lara watched the two. "Now hurry down to the market, Petur, see what is left. We need to eat before he leaves, and he has to leave before evening meal."

"Yes, brother, go to the market," Gryffin said, pulling Lana to him. "And be slow about it, we have things to discuss. Important things, things that will not wait."

As soon as Petur left the dwelling, Gryffin pulled Lana tighter and pushed her veil and cap off her head. Placing both hands in her hair, he pulled her head to his and let his mouth devour hers.

"How can I leave you for a week when I cannot go two hours without you?" he whispered into her ear as he lifted her up and carried her to the back of the dwelling where his pallet lay on the floor. Gently setting her on the dry moss topped with a soft mat, he lay down next to her and leaned on one arm to look down at her.

"You are beautiful," he told her before lifting his robe over his head and helping her to do the same with hers. "I will remember you like this. I will remember you in my bed, naked and calling my name until the day I go to the gods."

.

.

As he left the village later that day, he could still smell her on his skin. He longed to return to her, to lay next to her and to start their life. He looked down the earthen path, knowing it would be a week before he could see her again. Then he smiled, thinking of Salazar and knowing how his friend's face would look when he told him whom he had claimed. Shoving his hands in his pockets, he walked a little faster and smiled a little more.

That night he drank water from a stream and rested on its bank, wrapped in his cloak and looking up again at the stars. He was comforted somehow that the sky was always unchanging, charted and understood. He wondered if Lara was watching the same stars, and lying back on the hard ground, he soon fell asleep, seeing her face floating in front of him.

His dream was slow to start. He saw Lara walking toward him, and a raven flying over her head. She reached up to wave it away only to have it peck at her finger and draw blood that soon flowed from her mouth and eyes, obscuring her cries and blurring his vision of her. He looked to the village, saw only great boulders of stone, and heard laugher from men he did not know. Petur stood in front of one of the great boulders, then turned and disappeared as he walked into it. A great snake slithered down the path and barred the way for any to enter, hissing and showing fangs.

Gryffin sat up, sweating. He jumped to his feet unsteadily, only to fall to his knees and vomit into the grass.