The journey southwards took them past a number of fields that were very apparently being cultivated. Indulf studied some of those who worked and toiled tirelessly with dull, weary eyes. They had been walking for so long thought the shy youth that his legs felt as though they were afire.

  The song that Daegan sang that day was one about the hero Cormac, the hero who saved Caledonia during one of her darkest ages.

  “This be Cormac’s tale,

  Quiet in birth in that far vale,

  Black shores welcom’d Elves,

  Dark wore the foul ones,

  Slack found they the Lairdly-Isle,

  Hark sayeth they the most vile,

  Years uncount’d pass’d whilst war ruled,

  Corpses untold heap’d wither they annex’d,

  Flowers withered in all fields,

  Amongst both the corps and the reeds,

  Paint’d all scarlet didst they with steel,

  Vale to vale was red seen,

  Wails wert shed by clean and unclean,

  Short ran the plenty until famish’d,

  More cry’d all who bled,

  Vast travel’d was Neithan Oak-manstle,

  Father to he who never didst rankle.”

  To the end of her song, Trygve grumbled beneath his breath. By now accustomed to his increasingly poor mood, Indulf ignored him. Eyes on their surroundings, as people worked the fields or leading their sheep, pigs and cows all throughout the region which had veered away from the sea.

  Where the people of Glasvhail had fenced in their lands, being a guarded folk who while friendly had firm views regarding property. The land they were currently traveling through had the one great road that cut through it, with the wheat, tomato, corn and barley fields to either side of it. It was one of the most idyllic visions he had ever seen as each field was a blend of green, gold and brown. With the smell of tree-sap and vegetables wafted over that it appeared almost as though they had left, the lands of the Caleds behind them, for those of the gods. The trees that also populated the land were grey, green and all grew high, tall though none were older than thirty or forty years of age. This was surely a sign of the difficult times that had predated the reign of even Mael-Martin, the grandfather of the current and previous monarchs. Though winter had dogged the land at their departure from Glasvhail, by now green had begun its inevitable advance. It had been a short winter, Indulf noticed and the signs were that it was to be yet another plentiful harvest this year. As the previous one had been, save this one may yet yield more than the previous year. The birch, ash and oak trees glimmered with sap, with the squirrels, chipmunks and other critters hurrying and between them, nuts in paws and tails held high as their heads.

  Doubtlessly, as they observed the passing travelers they thought them might queer to be traveling in the direction of the south, given that none of them were from the local region. This was perhaps one reason they and all the cattle of the land of Ardrannaig as it was known, preferred to avoid them. The fact that they journeyed with a druid, only attracted even more curiosity and confusion. It was not simply the animals that inhabited many of the fields, or those fey that hid deep within every birch, ash, oak and cedar tree who stared curiously after them, but the people also.

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  The people who were in some cases tall, some stouter, all though were open-faced, in the case of the men bearded and wore rough-woollen tunics, trousers and were long of hair. The women for their part were dressed in rough dresses, which as in the case of the tunics of the men were green, brown, grey and red. Their hair was likewise long, and like many of the men who were thin, and tired, thus giving the newcomers the impression that not all was well in that locality.

  What caught the attention of and held the attention of Cormac, was the sound of the well-fed dogs that raced about between the fields, chased the squirrels and chipmunks. Running free with their tails wagging, the canines coming in all sorts of colours from white, blonde, black and grey, all bright-eyed with the animals serving to irritate some of the locals though most were grateful for their presence, ere they might not have contained the rodents’ population or kept the cattle in line. Barking at the wanderers, they alone welcomed them to the locality, with genuine warmth something that brought a smile to the fisherman’s son. He might have wandered away, to pass amongst the dogs if it was not for Wulfnoth clearing his throat at him, irritably. Embarrassed the youth gave his friends a frustrated look that brought a small smile to Indulf’s face.

  For many a years, the jest had circulated throughout Glasvhail that the reason Cormac was so beloved by dogs and he was so free with warmth, and curious by nature was due entirely to him being a dog in the shape of a man. A jest that even Indulf had uttered at times, with only Daegan frowning and disliking this jab at the lad she fancied so openly.

  This place had no fences, so that it was not all idyllic according to the druid who informed them rather quietly. “This is the land known as Ardrannaig; the laird here is one of those lairds who serves’ MacDuibh most leally.”

  “Is he violent?” Daegan asked curiously.

  “He is a laird, so of course he is,” Trygve retorted shortly, as though it were the most apparent thing in the world.

  “I would not be so quick to judge Trygve,” Cormac replied wisely, “You forget that even lairds are men, and just as all men may have a hint of avarice, and meanness in them. There is also a wisdom given unto men, by the gods especially by Tenjin the laird of wisdom.”

  “Aye, but this is one of the MacDuibh’s men, and he stands against our good King,” Indulf countered staunchly, of a mind as most were in the lands of Glasvhail that the plentiful harvests, the peace that had ensued and the lack of plagues were reason enough to praise the High-King.

  “Aye, but can men not agree and yet still both prove themselves to be good men? What if he dislikes him, out of loyalty to MacDuibh?” Cormac reasoned with an arched golden brow that was more an inquisitive gesture than any other.

  This question bothered Indulf, so completely that he lapsed once more into his typical silence. Frightened that he might seem foolish once again, a part of him felt annoyed by how he had likely been made to appear a fool in Wulfnoth’s eyes. As the youth had come to begin to admire the cleric a great deal, so that he did not wish to seem less than his friend, in his eyes.

  “Any who fail to support their proper laird, are hardly worthy of our respect,” Daegan sneered sharply.

  “I would not judge so quickly,” Wulfnoth cautioned, before he added, “I have seen many a great evil men served by those of good and good men served by wicked ones. One could say as the Elves are wont to do; judge not a man by his liege, but by his own wits and deeds.”

  “Elves? You have met Elves?” The awe in Indulf’s voice was now so apparent and patent that Trygve sent him an embarrassed, glance as though he were a credulous, idiotic child.

  “Why yes,” Now it was that Wulfnoth grew a touch red at the edges, a reaction that had only ever been seen when he had drunk too much. His eyes shone with joy at the memory.

  “Did you see their homes?” This time it was Cormac who asked, the question that was burning upon the lips of him and his mother’s pupil.

  “Nay, not if by that you mean their distant kingdoms, however I have seen several of their ranks and conversed with several of their scholars, clerics and astronomers,” Admitted the cleric.

  “Were they magnificent?”

  “Aye, aye and beautiful also! So very, very beautiful so that the fey of the Feywoods were as hideous Ogres in comparison to them.” The druid whispered, as he pulled at his moustache only to twirl the left-most edge of it around his fingers distractedly. “Alas, there remain precious few left in the lands of North-Agenor, or on the isles of Bretwealda.”

  There was a long mournful silence that followed. Ere long they mourned and wept in their hearts for this terrible travesty. For the Elves was the elder-race, the old folk who had built great states and resisted long before the age of men, the forces of darkness and evil.

  The suns were in the sky though, shining down upon them with such brimful intensity that it was difficult to stay morose and miserable. This along with the barking and howling of the dogs, the sight of the friendly if timid waves that the locals signalled towards them helped to further awaken the good humour of the travelers.

  A gaggle of children raced hither from one of the many hovels of thatch, mud and wood that the peasants lived in, chasing and playing with the dogs as they did so. Too young to work the fields in some cases, they were thus allowed to race along freely as only the most wilder of spirits are wont to do. Not a care in their hearts, for the many sorrows of the world.

  The sight of them failed to uplift Indulf’s distracted spirits, as he thought of his old dreams of seeing an Elf, late nights staring up at the heavens with Inga by his side. They had both loved the stars so, so that they often took to star-gazing together in her family’s fields.

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