Sins and Sorrows

By MIKE MOLLMAN

Koni gave up her high station to become Conwenna, a blacksmith's wife and devoted mother. But duty calls at unexpected times. Sorrows await as Conwenna must become Koni again, or let cruel men come to power.

 

Alfswich has become wealthy by commit

• Language: English
• Publisher: Beaver Castle Media
• Release date: Dec 7, 2022
• ISBN: 9781737052494

Book preview

Becoming an Apprentice

Belenos holds court by himself, low in the western sky. This being Aine’s monthly day of rest, the night will be quite dark. Sparse clouds are turning pink as the lord of the sky retreats. For once, it’s not going to rain on my birthday.

I’m nervous, but I don’t know why. I mean, it’s my first time going to the mead hall, but I know everyone in the village, so what’s there to be afraid of? I’ve tried to ask Kenal what it’s like inside, but he won’t answer me, as usual. I thought this day would never get here. At last, I’m an adult.

Is there any entertainment?

Sort of, Kenal responds.

Like what?

You’ll see.

Kenal has never been one for long conversations. After Dad died, Kenal and his wife Eseld took over the main duties of the farm. Although really, Eseld had to take care of their son and dad’s namesake—Kenwyn.

My brother has been asking me if I wanted to settle down with a wife of my own ever since. I think Eseld is behind all of this; she is never happy with anything I do. There’s no way I’m going to tell them about Dalna. They’d kidnap her and force us to get married. Although, that wouldn’t be terrible by any means.

I can drink as much as I want, right? I ask.

If you get drunk and start a fight with the biggest man there, like Ferroth did, you’re on your own.

Did he really pick a fight with Bricus the bear?

Yes, and he won the fight too. Bricus is strong, but he’s slow, in both mind and body.

Too bad, I say.

Don’t think about Ferroth. He’s left for good.

Have you ever been to Mai Dun?

No, Kenal says with exaggerated patience.

I wonder what it’s like there?

If you don’t stop asking questions, I’ll send you to Ferroth and the two of you can enjoy Mai Dun together.

He’s always saying things like that. But he knows Ferroth hates me, and my entire childhood was spent trying to keep from being beat up. Kenal wouldn’t really send me there. Would he? It’s probably best not to annoy him, just to be safe.

Does Drustaus really have an auroch skin draped over his throne?

Drustaus in not a king, only a chieftain.

Does he regularly dine with great druids?

Kenal tilts his head at me before shaking it slightly. I know that look; he’s done answering my questions. It wouldn’t bother me, except that I’m going to be within view of Drustaus all night long. I’ve only ever heard people talk about him. What if he doesn’t like me? What if I spill my mead? Will he think I drank too much? Will I be labeled a churl, destined to work at my brother’s farm for the rest of my life?

We’ve reached the outskirts of the Dinas Gwenenen, or Bee’s Gate, in one of the old tongues. I’m not really sure which one. The last time I was in the village, I was caught stealing honey. Although, the honey is supposed to be for everyone, so was I really stealing? Nechtan thought so, but he’s just a busybody that nobody likes.

We enter the village, and people stop what they’re doing to watch us pass.

Why is everyone staring at me? At least let me do something wrong first.

It’s a parade of sorts. Every time there is a new adult, everyone stops to honor them.

Really?

Well, mostly the men try to decide if you’ll make a good drinking buddy and the women who have marriage-aged daughters size you up as well.

That’s disturbing.

Listen, when we get inside, be polite and quiet and all will go well. Kenal immediately gives me his look again, so I don’t bother to ask any of the dozens of questions swirling around in my head.

We’re only a few steps away from the mead hall.

Maybe we should come back in a month or so. My stomach is killing me.

Dalna might be inside, Kenal says with a knowing smile.

Dalna? In there? W-why would that matter?

Kenal looks at me like I’m stupid or something.

Grahme, he says after a long exhale, you’re going in there if I have to pick you up and carry you over my shoulder. Now take a breath, and remember, it would be best to be seen but not heard.

I take a deep breath. I can do this.

Kenal opens the door and I’m assaulted with the smell of smoked hake. The central fire is only a dim orange glow through the excessive smoke.

Are you sure this isn’t a punishment? I hate eating hake.

Eseld will have something for you to eat when we get back, just follow me.

We snake around Bricus and his friends and make our way to the krauter near the fire. Kenal sniffs the drink within the large pot.

It looks like we have mead to drink tonight, that should make your inner honey thief happy.

I take a big drink and feel my throat tickle all the way down. I move my tongue around, tasting several times for each drink. This way, I won’t drink too fast. The mead is smooth, not like the watered-down ale Eseld forces upon me when I’m sick.

Try drinking it slower. There’s plenty here for everyone, Kenal says, smiling.

But I was.

At the central dais, Drustaus is talking amicably with two middle-aged druids clad in white robes. One druid is taller and more intense. A dark-haired one has the largest belly I’ve ever seen. He almost looks like he’s pregnant. If I ask Kenal about it, he’ll just laugh at me and tell me I’m drunk.

Are those actual druids? I whisper.

Of course. No one would dare impersonate a druid master.

Which one? I ask excitedly. Which one is a druid master?

They both are. The fat one is Gwalather, and the tall one is Arthyen. Now try to keep your mouth closed and follow me.

Kenal sits at a bench with Nechtan, the lousy gossip who ratted me out about the honey. Nechtan, he says pleasantly.

Kenal and what’s this? Our honey thief will finally understand why we should leave the honey alone. He raises his cup of mead to us and guzzles his drink. If I only knew what herb they put in this.

It’s meadowsweet, I say.

Meadowsweet? He finishes his cup. Are you sure?

Yes, I say. Kenal said to be quiet, so I’m not wasting words talking to Nechtan.

I bet you could be taken in by Gerne as his apprentice. He’s getting up in years, you know.

Aren’t we all, Kenal says. What news from the village?

Drustaus’ woman has taken ill. It looks bad.

Which one? Kenal asks.

Nechtan laughs. Don’t let him hear you say that. A few nights ago, he was lecturing us that taking a mistress will ultimately lead to embittered wives and miserable husbands.

Kenal rolls his eyes.

Now that’s a cute lass. Nechtan nods his head toward the door. It’s the third time this month she’s entered the hall. She’s on the prowl for a husband no doubt.

Even through the smoke Dalna is gorgeous.

Dalna! My brother calls. Come sit with us.

She slaps a drunkard’s hand away from her waist before giving him a wink. That filthy cur, he has no right to touch her like that. Dalna sits next to Nechtan and smiles sweetly at us.

Hello Kenal, hello Grahme, how fares the farm?

Her beautiful blond hair looks like finely spun gold wire. Her smoky brown eyes catch the light just right.

The farm has never been better, thanks to the hard work of my brother, Kenal elbows me in the ribs.  Right Grahme?

Um, yes. The plants grew well last year.

Has anyone seen Malry? She says, eyes scanning the room.

Well, Nechtan says.  I hope he’s not by the fire. He drools so much he’d put it out.

Oh, you’re so mean. Malry is a wonderful man and a hard worker. Once again, she searches for the serial drooler.

Grahme, why don’t you show everyone the trick you can do with the mice? Kenal says suddenly. He’s practically a druid.

What is Kenal doing? Dalna hates mice, and rats. Well, she acts afraid of a lot of small animals for some reason.

What’s this? Nechtan asks. You got a trick for us? He gives me a broad, toothy grin. It better be good, if you’re making me wait to refill my cup.

Well . . ..

Oh! There’s Malry, Dalna says. Excuse me, I really need to talk to him.

Without waiting for a reply, she bounces out of her seat and waves excitedly to him.

Go get your mead, Kenal says. We’ll wait for you to get back before Grahme starts his trick.

Nechtan wastes no time getting to the big, stupid, iron-pot-krauter-thing.

Sorry Grahme, Kenal says. I know you like her.

And you brought me here just so she could run away from me and go to that stupid oaf? I bet he got lost in the forty paces between his home and this hall.

There’s only one reason unmarried girls come to the hall, and that’s to find a husband. I had no idea she had chosen already. He pats me on the shoulder. I wanted to give you a good birthday.

I drink my mead and stare into the shadows.

Everyone! Everyone! Dalna has consented to be my wife, Malry shouts.

A halfhearted applause fills the room. Everyone else here can see what a mistake she’s making. Nechtan slides down opposite of us. Stupid girl. I hope she has the brains to manage sheep, because she’s marrying one. He looks from Kenal to me. Did I miss the trick?

Maybe next—

You’re just in time, I say, cutting my brother off. See those two mice behind you? Watch this.

I close my eyes. With what I’ve named my second voice, I call out to the mice, telling them to come to me. I peak just a little bit and sure enough, the mice are leaving the safety of the shadows behind and scurrying to me. They climb up on the bench next to Nechtan and twitch their whiskers expectantly.

I’ve never seen anything like it, Nechtan says.

A black, long-legged dog rises from the dais. I hadn’t noticed it before. His ears go back, and he hurries down the stairs to the common floor before making a dash at my little friends.

Stop. I point at the dog. It skids to a stop. You can’t eat these guys, not when I’ve forced them to come out of hiding. Now if you catch them when they’re acting like mice again, so be it. But it’s not fair to take them now.

The dog sits attentively, as if he understands everything I’m saying. Kenal and Nechtan are staring at me. Just my luck, the hall goes quiet as I’m correcting our chieftain’s dog. The hall is quiet? I look around and realize everyone is watching me.

Go, I say to the mice. I focus on my drink and take a cautious sip.

There’s nothing to see here, so stop looking at me.

I can feel my ears warming. Several men are approaching. My eyes dart upward. It’s Drustaus and the two druids.

Did you make those mice come out of the shadows and sit in front of you? The fat druid asks.

My mind blanks. I can’t remember his name. It was only a harmless trick, I say.

Forget the mice. Grendel was ready to snare those vermin. Did you make her stop in her tracks? Drustaus asks.

Well, it didn’t seem fair for him to eat the mice when I made them come out from hiding.

Her, Grendel is a her, Drustaus adds.

I tilt my head and confirm that his dog is indeed a female.

The fat druid laughs. He must know you, Drustaus. You say the dog is a bitch and he has to verify it for himself.

So, you did compel those mice? The tall druid says.

How did you do that? The tall one, Arthyen, I think, asks. Have you had druid training?

No, honored one, I’ve received no training. Kenal elbows me again and jerks his head up.

Oh, I should stand in their presence!

Then how did you learn?

I rise belatedly. I look at my drink, but I better not.

Well, it started several years ago when I wanted to hide from our other brother, Ferroth, because he would beat me up and, well, I couldn’t stay near Kenal, I nod to my brother, because he would just find more work for me. So I would hide in the granary, and I noticed a mouse in the corner. I named him . . . Well, that’s not important. At first, he would run away, but I told him he’s safe with my second voice—that’s what I call it. I don’t speak, with my mouth that is, when I’m using my second voice.

The tall druid looks annoyed at my babbling.

Skip to the part where you were able to control the mouse, Kenal says.

Oh, I could never control it, I say, slightly horrified. Who would crave that kind of power over another living creature? I was able to coax it. In the beginning I had to sort of cheat to do it. Since mice don’t like mint, I would spread the leaves on either side of the mouse and put oats in the center, near me. After practicing, I found that I didn’t need the mint leaves anymore.

I turn to Kenal. I didn’t know how to tell you and Eseld, without admitting that I was hiding from my work, but I planted mint all around the granary. The mice stay away from it now unless they’re starving. Of course, then I give them some of the grain.

I’m babbling again.

It seems he knows some herb lore, too. Drustaus says. But tell me, have you been practicing on my dog?

Oh, no sir. I wouldn’t dare. It was just unfair for him, I mean, her, to take the mice like that, so I made her stop. If she catches them on her own, well, that’s fair. I stop myself before I go into another babbling streak.

It looks like you have a new student, heh Gwalather?

Gwalather! That’s his name.

It does indeed, he agrees. Tell me young . . .

Grahme. His name is Grahme, Kenal says.

Tell me, Grahme, is there anything else unusual that you can do?

I swallow hard. Maybe I shouldn’t tell them. Well, there was this one time when Ferroth was coming to the granary and I was trapped. I didn’t want to get beat up, so I thought really hard and wished that I could be a mouse too, so that I could hide from him. I got this odd feeling, and when Ferroth opened the door, it was like I was staring up at a giant. I ran to the corner with the rest of the mice and my brother slammed the door. The oats came crashing down on top of me. Or at least it felt like I was buried in them. But the next moment I was sitting on the floor, picking oats out of my hair.

You can animorph too! The tall druid exclaims.

Too late Arthyen, I’ve claimed him for myself.

I didn’t hear you announce that. Maybe the boy wants to study under me. He looks at me like an angry father.

Stop, stop, Drustaus says. If you keep this up the poor lad is going to run away from you both.

Kenal puts his arm around me, but I’m not sure if he’s being protective or keeping me from running.

This is my hall, so for once I get to rule over you druids. Drustaus says, a glint in his eye. Gwalather was the first to express interest, so if the boy wants to train to be a druid, I say he starts with Gwalather.

It’s the only real choice, Gwalather says smugly.

So, tell us Grahme, do you wish to become a druid apprentice?

Um . . ..

Yes, he does, Kenal says.

I look at my brother in disbelief. Drustaus and the druids also look to him. It’s his turn to feel uncomfortable.

He has talked nonstop about druids since he was four years old. And, well, my wife and I would like to have more children, and it’s hard when Grahme is sleeping in the same hut with us.

Kenal grimaces and crosses his arms. Acting all kinds of nervous, he uncrosses his arms drops them to his waist. He tugs on his fingers as he waits for a reply.

It seems that everyone here wants you to become an apprentice. But I need to hear it from you. So, Grahme, do you want to become a druid? Drustaus asks.

The room is silent. I gaze around the room and find Dalna standing in amazement next to the drooling oaf, Malry.

Yes, yes I do.

Trouble Brewing

I’ve managed to find enough corncockle for our stores. I finished collecting the betony yesterday and the blueweed this morning. That should be all of the herbs that need s to be collected by midsummer.

It’s been seven days since Alban Heruin, and there’s still no sign of Gwalather. A man with his girth makes for a slow traveler, especially for one who refuses to animorph.

Despite it being the summer solstice, I’ve been going to bed early. I have all my responsibilities during the day, even while Gwalather is gone, and I want to test my idea that I can judge an herb’s potency by taste. Each morning, on an empty stomach, I test different fresh herbs against master Gwalather’s stores. I can test several before I must start my chores.

I was hoping he would tell me when these herbs are at their most potent, before I taste every single one. But he’d have to be in a good mood for that, so it’ll be quicker this way.

Hi Grahme, Dalna calls.

An instant smile registers on my face. She is still the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.

Hi Dalna, what can I do for you? I would do almost anything to spend time with her, even if she is married. Her pleasant voice and ready smile are a welcome change from Gwalather’s normal disposition.

Mum is ill again.

Irritated throat? I guess.

Sure, brought on by drinking too much ale last night. She snorts. "Still,