[Arry]

Wulfham


‘It was a big cat . . .’ Brand said in answer to the man’s question of what had caused these wounds. ‘. . . the one that tore my cheek and arm. She was hungry, I guess; she and her yearling cub . . .’ Brand’s words trailed off and he clenched his teeth, hissing softly as breathed in. The man had washed his wounds, and that was bad enough as he peeled off the scabby edges and cleaned out the small amount of purulence that had begun to fester in the deeper places. But now he patted on the herbal concoction and the raw wounds rebelled. He fought back tears, swallowed a scream, and was rewarded with a feeling of a numbing, soothing relief as the poultice began at last to ease the raw flesh.

Brand rolled up the sleeve of his tunic and laid his left arm on the table. ‘Master Healer, if you would be so kind. These, too, are not doing so well.’

As Leod worked, Brand told him the stories their Lord had heard of Orcs and of Easterlings coming into the outlying villages, the ones just beyond the river. ‘Like your village here, we heard they were burning everything and killing all. Wulfham lies nearly five days’ ride up the river from here. We are not much bigger than you, and like you we lie near The Great River. Lord Aldwulf has ordered the village to evacuate; they are heading toward the King’s Hall for refuge. There were four of us young ones sent ahead to ride as fast as we might to ask the King to send Riders to aid the village on its way. The older men, some warriors, most farmers, went with the village to keep it safe should it be attacked on the way.’

‘We saw the smoke from your village when we rode up on the rise just north of here. We came down, Vaenosa, Incana, Dorran, and I . . . to see if any survived. And oh, Grandfather . . . Sir,’ he said, for Leod had not yet given his name. ‘We were struck dumb at the sight and smell and emptiness of this place. Our guts clenched and the blood ran cold in our veins thinking how our little village and our families, friends, neighbors, might meet this same fate.’

‘The only living thing we’ve found so far was a dog, and we thought to take him with us.’ Brand lowered his eyes, his unbandaged cheek blushing as he looked down at the table. ‘And when I found your little place, I thought that whoever lived here had been killed along with the others. I came to get a sack to take the rest of your winter vegetables to take with us. I did not mean to steal, but only thought that out of this horror we might salvage something to help us on our way.’

He looked up a fleeting smile on his lips. ‘My mother has a little herb garden, like yours, but much smaller. She has some way with the making of poultices and unguents and potions and such. And I thought of her as I looked at your neat little plantings. How you’d paired the herbs and the small walkways that make it easy to gather them . . . she has much the same orderly and practical mind about her wee helpers, as she calls them. I confess, I was intending to gather some your herbs, too, only the ones I recognized the uses for. My mother found me a poor student when in came to such things, and thanked goodness for her daughters. For my part, I know only those that are good in stews and teas and those helpful to my sheep . . .’

Leod had finished dressing the wounds and was busy cleaning out the bowl in which he’d mixed the herbs. Brand sat looking about the neat little place and remembering the destruction that lay all about it. ‘I’m very sorry I stole from you,’ he said to the man whose back was turned to him as he worked. ‘And sorrier still that you might think of me only as some thief. My father would die of shame if he thought his only son was thought of in such a way.’

He cleared his throat, not sure how to go on. ‘Grandfather, I think you’re not safe here any longer. Will you ride with us? Tell your story to the King?’