The Journey From Oidhche Shamhna

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The Journey From Oidhche Shamhna

Chapter 21

Gryffin II

Gryffin sat on the ground with his head down and his sword resting in the diamond formed by his crossed legs. His arms rested on his knees with his palms turned up between his eyes and the sword. He looked at the blood, still fresh and sticky, and smelled the coppery air. He no longer prayed for the lives he took, no longer wondered as his sword grew stronger, and no longer asked why other warriors fell in step with him when they heard his name.

Each wizard that joined him had his own story of loss, or a story of a village such as Godric that had fallen, or a story of a witch burnt and of circles destroyed. Non-magical men had joined him. Unaccustomed to seeing townsmen pulled from their homes, and innocent women accused of crimes, they fought to stop the bloodshed and to right the wrong. Gryffin shook his head and wondered at the ignorance of non-magical men to think that the blood they spilled was different from blood that was taken from them. He could not fathom how men could fight their own people and ever call it noble.

He would soon stand and find those who had fought with him that still lay on the field. He would kneel by them, listen to their prayers, and thrust his sword into their hearts to end their misery of survival. He would carry these deaths of honour to the next fire at Oidhche Shamhna and sing their praises. Brave men who fell injured on the field of battle and waited for him to bring death to them, instead of death taking their lives slowly and after agony.

War had taught him that those that died quickly passed too easily. His sword no longer sought the throat of the enemy, choosing instead to leave him on the field to survive with no one to honour his death and take him quickly. He remembered Lara in their screams of pain and honoured his clan with letting them lie in their own blood and beg the gods for forgiveness.

This was his last battle. This the one he sought. The weave of the shawls they carried, and the colour of the hair hanging on their belts had told him these were the men of Godric's horror. He looked up and saw Erwin come across the field, stopping to kneel and thrust his sword twice along his way. The wizard had joined him almost a year ago, and stayed with him since. Gryffin selfishly kept him close, wanting his sword in battle, wanting someone who had seen Godric.

"I see you made it, Gryffin." Erwin lowered himself to the ground, using his sleeve to wipe the blood of battle from his face.

"Aye, I am done now. I have told the gods I am done." He turned and spit on the ground.

"You will return now?"

"I have one thing yet to do."

"Godric?"

"Yes, then they will rest, and Lara will be at peace."

"I have found no more since I joined you. Perhaps near Godric I will have success."

"Rowena waits, as does your child."

Erwin looked to the ground and drew the rune that was Rowena on the ground. "I cannot breathe when I am with her and cannot live when I am not."

"I was not long enough with Lara to feel the difference." He turned his face to the sun, seeking the warmth that he could no longer feel. "I sometimes forget her face. Do not leave Rowena wait, Erwin."

Erwin looked up from the ground and shook his head. "I have spoken to Morgan, my father. Still they keep her banished. After all that has happened they still shun her."

"It is the times. Everywhere war makes people hold on tighter to the old ways, not less."

"Rowena should have more. She should be able ... she should have more."

Gryffin looked back to the field and slowly stood up, holding his sword. "Come, some still suffer."

The two walked into the field, searching for their own to put an end to this day. On the far end of the bloody expanse, three others did the same. Occasionally they would help a man stand and point the way to camp, not helping to lend a shoulder. If an injured man were able to return on his own he would live. If not, they would finish his pain quickly. Erwin and Gryffin searched, but few they would send on their way. Most would meet their gods that day.

As dusk was setting the field was cleared of all those that stood for Godric's clan. The remaining few took their leaving, each turning toward home.

"Let this be the end of it. Let the non-magical fight their own. They have one god and now fight about how to pray. I do not understand them." Gryffin watched the three others walk away.

"We fight for much the same thing." Erwin knelt down to clean his blade on the grass.

"We fight for life and to keep our gods. They fight only to force others to pray as they do. Even amongst themselves they fight." Gryffin shook his head. "They now destroy temples of their own god because they do not like the prayers offered to him. They do not even offer up in their own language but must use a different one just to pray."

"The Ravens are learning the prayers of man." Erwin saw the question come to Gryffin face. "They must blend in. They must hide their beliefs until it is safe."

"We need to get out of this land before it chokes us." Gryffin looked at the sun and judged there was still time to travel today.

"So, you will come with me rather than returning to Rowena?"

"Yes, and then I shall ask once more of Morgan," Erwin returned evenly.

"I could speak to him for you. I have no reason to hurry. No one waits in my bed."

Erwin pushed past him and started the walk to Godric, feeling Gryffin fall in step beside him. He could not return without trying to speak one more time to Morgan, to try just one more time for Morgan to take Rowena as a daughter and to let her have her gods back.

"We can stay in the city tonight, Gryffin. I could use a bath and you could use a witch." Erwin smiled at him. "Perhaps you could use a mere woman, one that would not ask questions or put demands on you."

"The only question they need answered is how much." Gryffin raised an eyebrow at him. "And you only want a bath?"

"Perhaps I will seek a market," he said, looking ahead and avoiding Gryffin's eyes.

"This market has nothing to do with the brown haired woman that I did not see you talking to last time?"

They walked in together, uncomfortable with each other until Erwin broke the silence. "She is non-magical. She lost her husband in the war, and now feeds two children. She was in the streets begging."

"Is this how you show your generosity?" Gryffin sneered.

"She is alone."

"You are not."

"Many in my village had two families. One wife lived in the magical world, with the real family of inheritance, and one that the warriors would go to on their travels."

"Is this also Rowena's way?"

"She is aware of it. This is not something spoken of in the home, but it is known by all."

"Have you made a commitment to the brown-haired woman yet?"

"No, we have just spoken. I don't know if I am yet ready."

"Talk to Rowena, Erwin. She is a banished witch. She will not take this as a wife in a true clan. She will not see this as you do. She does not have a family to turn to."

"Leave it, Gryffin. I talk to the woman, that is all. I have not bedded her."

"It would be better to avoid her completely than to play at this." Gryffin scowled at him.

"Then come with me and sit at her heath, let us be but friends." Erwin watched the ground as he walked and thought of Rowena. "I am not a warrior, Gryffin. I am not one to live this far from home. Yet I do not have a home to which I can return. There I have but a cold pile of stone."

"You have Rowena, which is enough."

"And you buy woman at every town. I find I cannot do that."

"Then speak to Rowena. Tonight we will sit and talk to the brown-haired woman that you do not know."

"Are you now my keeper?" Erwin laughed.

"Consider it the job of a brother." Gryffin smirked. "The brother of Rowena."

That night they sat at Leigh's fire and ate the food they had bought in the market and brought to her home. They laughed with her two sons and taught them how to hollow a reed and make a flute. Erwin watched as the boys' eyes widened at the sight of the first meat they had eaten in longer than either could remember. He thought of the stocks in Helga's cellar and looked at the thinness of Leigh's face. As they left he pressed gold in her hand and watched her hesitate, then push it back at him. She shook her head and blushed, ashamed at what it would appear to be.

She looked up at him openly and bid him goodnight, then closed the door. She pressed her back against the wood and turned to her sons, sending them to the pallet on the floor in the corner of the one room she called home. That night she sat on the floor in front of her fire and remembered her husband, dead now four years. She hugged her knees, rested her chin on her arms, and wondered if anyone would ever want a widow with two sons.

She closed her eyes and let tears wash her cheeks and she thought of Erwin and wondered why he had brought the other to her home. She looked to her boys and could not see what they would become with no father to teach them a trade, or to buy their way to an apprenticeship. She had enough food now for two more days, the rent paid for twenty. She sighed and knew that tomorrow she would again sit on the steps of the church and beg. Turning back to the fire she remembered her husband, four years gone, but could not remember his face.

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Gryffin and Erwin found a tavern, and paid for the use of a table. To sleep inside, even on top of a wooden table, would be better than the cold of the night too near a road where they could have someone come upon them unaware. They paid their money and took a tankard of ale to wait for the tavern to empty when Gryffin smiled and nodded to Erwin, bringing his attention to the serving girl.

"Now there is a sweet thing that can visit anyone and would not be turned away." He laughed and slapped Erwin on the back.

"I am sure working here she does not turn many away." Erwin looked at her with a sneer.

"She is but a woman, Erwin. A woman I plan to have." He stood up, leaving Erwin to his tankard.

He put his arm around the girl's waist and pulled her hard into him, and dropped a piece of gold down between her breasts. Then, leaning into her ear, he told her what he wanted. She nodded, taking his hand and leading him out to the back.

Standing with her back against the building, she put her hands on her hips and scowled at him. "I don't allow no hitting or biting."

"Did I ask you for that?" He smirked as he walked over to her, kicking her legs apart to stand between them.

"Not too many ask. They just do what they want." She nodded toward his sword. "You that fight are the worst."

"I do not plan on fighting with you." He ran that pad of this thumb down her face to her neck.

"You didn't say nothing 'bouts taking my clothes off, you pay extra for that." She held up her chin defiantly and locked her eyes to his.

He put his hand behind her head, pulling her roughly forward and tasting her mouth, surprised when she struggled to push him back.

"No, I don't allow that either." She choked on the words and turned her head from his, lifting her skirt and wrapping one leg around his waist. "Hurry, you didn't buy me for the night."

Gryffin stroked her thigh, watching her face and scowling when she flinched. "Are you new to this?"

"What does it matter? Just hurry. I am sure ..."

"Stop." He pushed her harder to the wall and stepped in until he pressed his full length against her. "How old are you, girl?"

"What does it matter? All you need to know is my price." She looked back to his face in anger as he lowered his head to her neck and pulled her leg firmer against him.

"It does not matter." He looked down at her blouse that allowed the top of her breasts to show. Lifting her up, he pushed her back into the wall and took what he had paid for, quickly and roughly.

When he was finished with her, he stepped back, breathing heavily, and pushed her to the ground. He stared at her as she gathered herself up, smoothed her hair, and brushed tears from her eyes. As she lifted her chin and turned back to the tavern, he grabbed her arm.

"Why do you do this?" He scowled at the marks he had left on her arms. "I did not mean to..."

"I've heard it before." She turned from him, pulling free. "I've more bruises than you have left and have had far harsher than you."

"I asked you a question."

"Then pay for the answer. I need to get back to work."

Gryffin reached in his pocket and, pulling her back, he pressed a gold coin to her palm. She opened her hand and looked up at him oddly. "I have mouths to feed, and no family. I do what I must."

"And this is all you can do?"

She shrugged her shoulders and walked to the door, turning back to look at him. "There is no place in this world for a woman alone, no place for her to go and no man that will want her. It is better here than in the large cities. There, the men can be cruel. Here, they are dirty and smell."

He watched her walk back into the tavern before returning to sit next to Erwin and order more ale. He watched the serving girl as she carried the tankards and imagined her sitting at home with two sons making a flute from a reed.

"Perhaps you were right, Erwin, about Leigh. Perhaps some things are better done and not spoken of," was all he said before tipping up his tankard and draining it again.

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"Gryffin walked into what he knew was Godric. The gentle hill to the north and the stream that carried the water the women had carried in buckets back to the dwellings stood in the south. He could see the flattened ground that had held his dwelling and the road that cut through the whole. He stood still on the hard soil, packed by generations of feet, and could see only a trace of what had been.

Walking to the slope and removing the ward he knew was there, he could look at last at the burial mound that was all that was now left of Godric. The grass had grown over it, softening the lines and obscuring the sharp angles and ugly gashes of soil that had been here last time. He no longer needed to ward the mound, and let it open to the sun instead.

"Did you want a fire?" Erwin asked quietly, looking at the mound and thinking Gryffin would offer herbs to the gods.

"No, we are too close still. The Roman camp would see the smoke." He walked closer to the mound, then went down on one knee and lowered his head. He prayed in the position of a Roman, as if ashamed to show his face, holding it to the earth, away from the gods.

"Gryffin!" Erwin said angrily, seeing what he was doing. "This is the very spot that her cloak was blessed. It is not of their gods."

"Our gods are gone, or will be soon." Gryffin looked where his dwelling stood, and then to the mound. "Perhaps the new one can watch her here in their land."

He sighed heavily. "It is time we go. You have been gone too long. Rowena will be anxious to see you."

Erwin squatted down next to Gryffin and reached for a small plant that was growing from the mound. "Woolly croton. It is unusual for this to grow here. It usually clings to rocky soil."

He stood, rubbing the soft petals between his fingers. "They are past their bloom. We can take seed for Helga. She can use croton in potions for the stomach. It will be as if taking a part of Godric back."

"I want our life back, Gryffin." Erwin looked at the flattened ground where a dwelling had stood. "Sometimes I feel the loss like a sack tied on my back. My dwelling had stood in the same place since we came to this land. It is like I have picked up this weight and I can not put it down until I find my home."

"I will rest when I can lay down the sword." Gryffin stepped back from the mound. "I am done, Erwin. I have done enough. I have killed enough and I have had enough try to kill me to last a lifetime."

"Then let us skirt the Roman cities and go to Morgan, and then home." Erwin frowned at him. "I need to breathe, I just need to breathe."

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Morgan welcomed them to his home, opening the door and stepping back to allow them in. Next to the door lay the small bowl of herbs that both wizards offered to the gods of the hearth before sitting in the chairs that Morgan indicated.

"It has been a long while since we have seen the keeping of the old ways," Gryffin said in approval.

"We are far from the men and find by staying separate we may observe the old ways. On occasion we must hide in front of the traders."

"Do you still have traders come to this village?" Erwin leaned forward in his chair. "I have not seen many traders on the roads, not like we did before."

"They are scarce, but we have less need." Morgan looked at his son. "I am sure you have not come this long way to pass idle talk."

"You know why I am here, Father. You knew when you saw me on the path." Erwin lowered his head and shook it slowly. "That is why my mother has been sent out the back door, and my brother sent on a fool's errand."

"Her husband still looks for her. It is said he looks for a child as well." Morgan frowned at him and looked to Gryffin. "Is there truth in this?"

"Truth in that he looks?" Gryffin met the old man's eyes and challenged him with his look. "Or truth that he is her husband?"

"She is married to another," Morgan hissed. "She belongs to him, not to my son."

"A witch does not belong to anyone, Morgan. You should know better than this." Gryffin leaned back in his chair easily, not taking his eyes off Morgan. "She is a good witch, true and cunning. She has made a good home for you son and only wishes to take care of you in your old age. He named his daughter, and now keeps her at his hearth. Have you no interest in seeing your granddaughter?"

"I have a son who will bring me a true daughter. A daughter I am not ashamed to call my own." Morgan looked at Erwin as his voice became louder. "I will not have a harlot in my..."

Erwin had his wand pulled and pointed at his father before the sentence was completed. He nodded to Gryffin and walked out the door without honouring the gods. Morgan rose and grabbed a handful of herbs, throwing them in the fire and offering a prayer for his son's forgetfulness.

Gryffin then rose, and taking his own herbs and placing them in the fire, he turned to the door. His hand was ready to push the door open when he paused. "I would not stop my wand as you son has, Morgan. Do not speak of her again within my hearing."

He pushed the door open and left to catch up with Erwin, who was already far on the path. They walked without talking until the sun was low on the horizon, and the path became hard to see. Together they sat eating what little they carried, not mentioning Morgan or his refusal to accept Rowena.

"The moon will be full tonight." Erwin looked up to the sky.

"By walking all night we will have you home sooner."

"It will be the second time we have made this same trip together. Each time we have wanted to hurry from this place," Erwin mused, looking up at the night sky. "I can see why the ancients thought to see the future by looking to the stars. With so many to choose from you can take your pick of the future."

"As long as the sky remains cloudless we will walk," Gryffin said, standing up and brushing his tattered robes with a laugh. "I can no longer repair these holes or clean the fabric. Now wonder even the whores of this place pull away from me."

"It is not the look of you, it is the smell." Erwin grinned as they set on the path.

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They walked for three days more, mostly in silence, picking up small plants and seedlings as they went. They passed the earthen enclosure of the goblins and found it empty with the inside of the stronghold flattened, no trace of what had been. Gryffin could not imagine where goblins would hide. They, like the elves, would not be able to blend in with man. Fleeing the men, unwanted and not trusted by wizards, they would be in hiding from all.

He dropped his hand to his sword and scowled at the memory of the deal he had struck and the poisoned wands they had taken. He felt exposed and uneasy in this land and encouraged Erwin to sleep only four hours at a time, cutting the nights short, and travelling in the waning light.