Curraghs
could take much, but they couldn't take running into a tree at great
speed. Nor could they take running across land at great speed to
reach the tree. Nor could the oars take digging deep furrows through
dirt as they propelled the curragh across land at great speed to
reach the tree.
So
by the time Meg was finally forced to stop, the curragh was in
terrible shape, and the people in the boat were – well at least
whole and unbroken, but they were certainly as shaken as the tree
itself.
As
for Meg, when she had finally caught her breath, lifted the wreckage
of the curragh off her face and looked around, she realized that she
was very lucky, for her path had taken her straight under a low twist
of a wide branch, and if she'd had her head raised just a bit she
might have come to a worse halt than she did.
She
turned around, to see a tree taller and wider than she'd ever seen,
with great gnarled limbs all twisting this way and that. She looked
around, and saw many trees like it, in among more yew and holly than
Meg had ever seen.
"Wonderful,"
said the young man, as he dusted himself off. "Looks like we
fetched up on Ishmon. Weren't we supposed to be going to Dinas
Dinlle?"
"Not
sure," said Meg. "I forgot to ask the skipper where exactly
we were going."
"I'm
going to have many bruises," said the stout woman, as she picked
herself up out of a shrub.
"I
wish I could say I'll land the boat more gently next time," said
Meg.
"I
bumped my head," said the little girl.
"Just a bump?" said Meg. "Sorry about that. Also, suck it up, you'll be through worse in your life."
"That doesn't make me feel any better," said the girl.
Meg stood and surveyed the landscape. From this vantage point, she
could see over the low shrubs, and where the forest stretched down
the beach in one direction, in the other there was an small farm field with
the remnants of a harvest. "Come on," said Meg, "maybe
there's someone we can talk to and ask for help repairing the
curragh."
"I
think the curragh is a lost cause," said the young man, "but
they might have some spare food."
…
The
farm had bread to share, and soup bones to share. It had turnips to
share and cabbage and onions. It had very many people gathered around
the table, because there was very much food indeed, and it needed
eating, and there were very many who had helped bring it all in. They
were willing to share the table even with the few strange newcomers
who had not helped bring the food in, and though Meg promised to
bring them a deer from the forest for their trouble, the people
around the table laughed and said that would hardly be necessary.
Plenty to share at this harvest feast.
So
there was enough set before the little girl that Meg could notice her
wolfing her food down. "Might want to be careful there,"
said Meg. "Too much food at once isn't good for you, especially
if you've been starving. Hasn't your father been feeding you?"
"Don't
have one," said the little girl through a mouthful of food.
"Your
brother?"
"No
brother either."
"Mother?"
The
little girl shook her head.
"So
the adults in the curragh with you – "
"Don't
know them," said the little girl. "Hey, can I go on adventures with you?"
Meg was startled by this sudden request. "You? A child? Come on, now, adventures have great and terrible monsters."
"I bet I can take them on," said the girl.
"Sometimes adventures have bitter cold and rain."
"I'm already used to that," said the girl.
"Sometimes adventures have no food for a week."
"Oh!" said the girl. "Perish the thought! As if I hadn't been through that already."
Meg looked around at all the happy feasting people, tearing into mutton and turnips and quaffing flagons of ale. "I should think we've found a good place for you here, child."
"You haven't," said the girl. "It's adventure I crave. And who better to run with than the fearless Meg?"
Meg gave her a sharp look. The girl's face betrayed no scheming. "Don't know who that is."
"Don't give me that," said the girl, now looking like she could see right through Meg. "Nobody else could do what you did what that boat...except maybe Deirdre the Golden? Aren't you friends with her?"
Meg put her fork down and looked through the house's one window at the cloudless blue sky.
In the meantime, at the mention of Deirdre's name, all conversation at the table had stopped. The stout woman coughed. "Maybe we should have known it was the great and fearless Meg with us in the boat. Did something happen to Deirdre?"
Meg abruptly rose from her seat, shaking the table. "Permit me to go and earn my keep here." She grabbed a bow and some arrows from their place by the door and marched out without another word.
…
The
curious thing about this forest, beyond the gnarled and twisted limbs
of the trees, and even beyond the low growls here and there, was that
the forest had more deer in it than Meg expected. And, more than
that, they seemed to react to her presence by freezing in place. She
was able to draw her bow and bring a stag down with no trouble at
all. That didn't make much sense to Meg. The stag should have bolted.
But
when Meg hefted the deer onto her shoulders and turned around, she
saw there a curious figure – a man clad all in white with a long
white beard and a wand of white wood. He was also standing still, his
wand outstretched, muttering something indistinct, and his eyes were
staring at nothing.
But
then he shook his head and finally noticed Meg standing before him.
"Oh
for Heaven's sake!" exclaimed the bearded man. "It took me
hours to work that spell up and you've gone and ruined it. Who are
you anyway? And how do you dare to enter this forest?"
"Sorry
about that," said Meg. "Did you want half?"
"I
wanted the whole thing!" said the bearded man.
"Fine,"
said Meg. "Here you go." She dumped the stag at the bearded
man's feet and walked further on into the forest.
Not
ten paces had she gone before the bearded man ran up beside her. "Now
hang on," he said, "you didn't even answer my questions."
"I
guess I didn't," said Meg. "So what, is this your forest?
Are you a king and all this forest belongs to you?"
"I'm
a druid," said the bearded man. "Nothing belongs to me, not
forever. But I do try to keep people out of these woods."
"Why?"
There
was a low growl from somewhere close by.
"That,"
said the druid.
Suddenly
a gaggle of old men with long white beards appeared out of the
underbrush. "What on earth is she doing here!" said one of
them. "The beast is nearly a league away by now! You were
supposed to keep this place off limits!"
"Apparently
this woman with the strange accent doesn't know our ways," said
the druid.
"Never
heard of druids where I'm from," said Meg. "Can't blame me
for that. Why do you fellows never cross the sea anyway?"
"Too
many kings on that side," said the druid. "Now what exactly
are you – you know what, let's just get you out of here."
"Hang
on," said Meg, and she shot her bow at a deer that had been
standing nearby. Then she picked up its body and hefted it onto her
shoulders. "I have a bit of someone else's debt that needs
paying."
Suddenly
there was a very low and very rumbly growl from somewhere right
behind her.
…
Meg
came back to the harvest feast with very messy hair, a few scratches
upon her face, and half a deer. It made a bit of a mess on the rushes
of the floor where she placed it.
"Hey
now," said the man sitting at the head of the table, "I
told you that wasn't necessary."
"Not
for me," said Meg. "For the new girl here. Just to make up
for what she didn't make you before. What's your name, kid?"
"Not
telling," said the little girl. "Not unless you take me on
an adventure."
"You
will be safer and happier here," said Meg. "Trust me."
"Now
hang on a moment," said the man sitting at the head of the
table. "The girl doesn't need to pay her way in or anything. This is a family. We can always use an extra hand. You make it sound
like we've got some kind of entrance fee or something!"
Meg
shrugged. "I guess I'm just in a mood for apologies today."
She
left the farm house without another word.
…
She
realized as soon as she had stepped out of the farmhouse that she had
forgotten to ask for directions.
As
she turned around to head back in, the young man and the stout woman
stepped out. "Come on," said the stout woman, "Let's
be getting down to Dinas Dinlle. Mr. Bowen said if we start out now
we can get across the tidal flat without too much trouble, and we
should be able to spot it from there."
"I
guess this is where we part," said Meg.
"What
do you mean?" said the young man. "I thought you were
heading to the same place we were."
"I
don't really know where I'm going," said Meg. "I figured
I'd find Cerridwen somewhere around here."
The
young man shuddered. "You want to find her? No wonder you've
been acting strange."
Meg
shrugged. "Sorry I didn't tell you." Then she set off down
the beach.
…
After
about ten minutes of walking she heard a "psst!" from the
trees.
She
turned to the trees. "Alright," she said, "What do you
fellows want now?"
A
man with a long white beard peeked out from behind the tree. "We
heard you were trying to find Cerridwen?"
Meg
nodded.
"You
shouldn't try to find Cerridwen."
"If
I find Cerridwen's cauldron I can find Deirdre," said Meg.
"Oh,"
said the white-bearded man. "Well. That's a bit different. Wait, are you actually planning to use that thing? The price would be – "
"Are
you going to tell me where to find her or not?"
The
man with the white beard pointed to a very snowy peak in the far
distance southward, rising above the gloomy forest. "There,"
he said. "Mount Snowdon."
"Don't
call it that you idiot!" said another voice from the trees.
"Nobody's going to call it that for another thousand-odd years!"
"Oh!"
said the white-bearded man. "Right, right, sorry. Um…Erwithva
Barrow?"
"Barrow,"
said Meg. "Sounds a little spooky. Sounds a little old. Perfect
place for Cerridwen, eh? Alright. Goodbye then."
"Now
hang on a moment!" said the man with the white beard. "It's
not going to be so easy to get there!There's a monster in the way!"
"As if I hadn't been through that a hundred times before," said Meg. "What's it this time?"
"The one that beat the hell out of you in the forest," said the man with the white beard.
"Which you didn't even help me with," said Meg. She looked down the beach, trying to spot her former travelling companions. "Thank goodness you bothered to warn the people walking with me about that thing. What, are you not allowed to show yourselves to anyone besides me?"
"We know about you," said the man with the white beard. "You've earned the right to see us, a hundred times over."
"And perhaps I have earned the right to demand that you follow my example and actually help people who need it," said Meg. "As it stands, you have been irresponsible fools and I have no more time to waste." She set off at a run down the beach.
…
The
great snowy mountain was a little closer when Meg heard a great
rattling whistling hiss from the sand to her right.
She
skidded to a stop, her feet making great furrows in the sand as she
did so. She looked up. Rising from under the watery sand was the head
of a snake, a head as long as her entire village, and half as wide.
Two yellow eyes stared down at her. A great tongue, half as long
again as the head itself, flicked out of its mouth. "You," hissed the snake, so sharply that it made Meg's ears hurt. "You who steal my deer from my forest, you think you can come this way? I have beaten you once, little mouse."
"Your forest," said Meg. "And yet you let the druids swipe your deer? Look, I don't have time for this. If you haven't done any harm to my travelling companions I'll be off and you can just let me go and we don't have to hurt each other."
"None may cross the great snake Menai and live," hissed the snake.
"I lived," said Meg. "The druids live. I tell you again, I don't have time for this."
"And I
do not have time for your objections," said the snake. It
slithered out from under the sand, rising and rising and rising,
until its head was nearly lost in the low clouds.
"For
pity's sake," said Meg, "I am trying to find Deirdre."
"She
is gone," said the great snake. "You would do your best to
avoid seeking after her, until it is your time."
"This
is my time," said Meg, "And you are wasting it."
"Then
I shall waste no more of your time," said the snake. "I
shall send you to her."
The
great snake lunged down out of the clouds.
Meg
caught the snake by the snout. In her grip the snake could not open its jaws any further, nor could it shove her back another step -- but neither could she shove it back into its hole. And if the snake decided to pick her up -- which it was doing, now, lifting its head up towards the clouds, likely to try to toss Meg in the air. Which was probably going to end in something that was harder than usual to get out of.
Down the beach came running a gaggle of old men with long beards, all bearing long white staves, which they were pointing at the snake. The snake shuddered, and began to lower Meg back down to the sand.
But then its irises opened wide, and the old men were frozen in fear. The snake chuckled. Once more it lifted its head -- until the young man and the stout woman came running in from the tidal flats, interposing themselves between the old men and the snake, so that they were frozen in fear instead of the old men. The old men pointed their staves at the snake once more. It shuddered vilently enough to toss Meg off to the side, into the sand. "Rebels and traitors," hissed the snake. "You cannot save yourselves from me." It lunged for the young man.
Yet before it could reach him, there was the yelling of a child from far off, and in the next moment, in a blur of kicked-up sand and dust, something small ran smack into the snake's side. It paused, looking confused -- which was just enough time for Meg to get her arms around the tip of its snout again. She planted her feet, gave a mighty roar, and heaved the snake fully out of its hole, scattering rocks and dirt everywhere. She lifted it up over her head, roared once more and slammed it down upon the land, shaking the earth with the force of the blow.
Amidst the great cloud of birds that rose into the sky, there was now water stretching northeast, a channel longer than Meg could see. It was pouring into the tidal flat, quietly yet so swiftly that the water was too deep to even wade before Meg had realized what had happened. "Ah...I might have made your journey a little more difficult."
The little girl, looking only slightly weary, jogged up to the gathered adults and hopped up and down. "Maybe I can run everyone across the water?"
"Go back to the farm," said Meg. "You've been foolish."
"I've been brave!" said the girl. "Like everyone here!"
"I don't have time for this," said Meg. "Does anyone know where I can find a rowboat?"
One of the long-bearded men stepped behind a tree and came out with a coracle and a paddle. "Couldn't find anything better. Sorry."
"Your actions have been apology enough," said Meg. "Thank you." She grabbed the coracle and paddle and young man.
…
The young man stood in a daze on the far side of the strait. "Remind me to stop taking boat rides with you," he said.
"Reminder to stop taking boat rides with me," said Meg, and she hopped back into the coracle and was across the strait in a moment, jumping out onto the beach with enough force to leave long furrows in the sand. "You next," she said to the stout woman. "Come on."
The woman looked apprehensive. "Um...can we go a little slower?"
"Time's a wasting," said Meg. She grabbed the woman, balanced her on her shoulders, jumped into the coracle and set off rowing -- with a suspicious spray of foam and vapor keeping pace right beside her.
When she skidded to a halt in the sand and placed the stout woman down, there was the little girl standing there with a grin. "I won," she said. "Surely I'm brave and strong enough to follow you."
"Brave?" growled Meg. "Brave, yes, foolish as anyone who boasts of being brave. These two --" she swept her arm out to gesture at the stout woman and the young man. " -- these two are incredibly courageous, because they knew they had no great power, and yet stood in defense against great evil anyway. You think you have strength, and you get yourself into terrible situations. You are brave indeed, girl, and so you cannot understand how much it pains me to see you doing all this when you are so young and small."
"You could just say 'thank you'," said the girl. "And who's to say you're not also being stupid? You're the one who wants to follow Deirdre into the underworld, or something."
"They told you about that then?" said Meg. "Leave that matter be."
"You won't leave it be," said the girl. "So I guess we'll just see what happens. Race you to Snow Hill." And she was off with a rush of air.
"Dammit."Meg took off running after her.