Chapter Text
Around 100 AD
The trees talked to him. His parents had said it was just the wind through the leaves and the creaking of branches, but Cian heard the truth of the sounds. Most of the trees’ conversations had nothing to do with him, but when he asked questions they answered in the slow ponderous way that only creatures who have spent a century of watching the same moon overhead and feeling the same dirt between the toes can manage. Ever since he was a child they would tell him what they were supposed to be; this one a stave, that one an oar, this small one over here, knarled and twisted from the force of the wind, could be carved into toys for a child and the grain would look like fur or wings or stripes. This one should be left to rot to nourish the soil for the next generation of seedlings. It was the village carpenter who had finally recognized his gift. Cian would sneak into his workshop and quietly watch Breacán at work, the sound of a plane smoothing lumber like a lullaby. It was when the five year old boy told Breacán that the piece of wood he had just picked up would make a better bowl than a shield that Breacán took Cian into the woods, blindfolded him, and had him identify the trees around him without touching them. Ever since that day, Cian had been a woodsman.
Today, twenty five years later, was his most important walk through the woods. He rested a hand against a tall ash and listened for a moment. The keel of a boat strong enough to cross the narrow sea. He carved a marking into the bark so he could come back for it later. A large oak still sleepy in the new spring grumbled and creaked. It wasn’t what he was looking for either. He brushed his hand over the trunk of an old yew as he walked by and was pulled to a halt. This was the tree he needed. Staves and shields and spears would fall from the trunk and branches. Even as the tree’s voice echoed in his ears, he backed away. He would not fell a yew without the permission of the chieftain. He had been tasked to find wood for weapons after the seer had tossed the runes at the last full moon and had prophesied blood and fire and strange metal men and a golden eagle but even the seer’s visions weren’t enough for him to take a yew without special permission.
Cian put his chisel back in his pouch and began the walk back to the village. The peaceful morning gossip of songbirds was interrupted when a howl rent the air. The sound made his hair stand on end. He howled back, calling to the unfamiliar wolf. He knew the pack that roamed these woods and the angry voice he had heard wasn’t one of them. A short yelping cry came back to him and he began to run. He sniffed the cold air, letting the scent of strangers guide him. He heard the fighting before he could see it, the scream of a man being cut off and a pained cry from the wolf. He burst out of the forest on to the top of a rocky outcropping around a spring fed pond to see a wolf being attacked by three strange men wearing metal shirts. A fourth lay on the ground with its throat ripped out. The three still standing were trying to back the wolf into a corner against the rocks he stood on. Two of them had long spears. The third was using a dagger. His spear was broken off in the wolf’s flank. Without a thought, Cian jumped from the rocks onto the men. He embedded his chisel in the neck of the man he landed on and with a savage thrust, severed the man’s throat. Not bothering to wipe the spray of fresh blood from his face, Cian spun around and grabbed the next man’s spear. He yanked the stranger off balance and as he stumbled, his chisel found home again. The wolf took advantage of the distraction and hamstrung the other soldier. Cian turned just in time to see her sharp teeth sink into the man’s throat.
The dying man’s gurgles were the only thing Cian heard as he looked around for any other and as quiet returned to the forest his breathing slowed. He wiped off his chisel before tucking it in his bag and turned to the injured animal. “What say I take a look at that spear and see if I can get it out for you?” He held out his hand to the wolf and she crawled over to him, whining deep in her throat. She was darker than the wolves he had seen around here, with auburn markings around her throat and legs. “You’re a pretty one aren’t you? What are you doing wandering around the forest by yourself? Where’s the rest of your pack, pretty lady?” He muttered nonsense to the animal as he stripped off his shirt and wet it in the pond before using it to wipe away the blood clumping her fur around the spear shaft. “This would be easier if I could just tell you to go in the pond, but I think you’d take my hand off if I tried to pick you up.”
The wolf struggled to its feet and stepped into the chill water. Cian sat back on his haunches and eyed the wolf curiously as she cleaned the blood off of her muzzle. “Do you understand me, lady?”
The wolf nodded.
Cian hadn’t heard of anyone powerful enough to be partnered with a wolf. That was the stuff of bard tales. “Well, your master is going to be upset you’ve gone missing.”
The wolf pulled back her upper lip in a sneer that revealed her long fangs.
“No master?” Another nod. Cian washed the blood off of his hands and face as he wondered where this strange wolf had come from. “Either way, let me get that wound cleaned.” He scooped up handfuls of water and sluiced away the blood until he could get a good look at the wound. The spear head was completely embedded in her leg. By all rights, she should be dead and if he didn’t get that spear out, she soon would be. He gave the broken shaft an experimental tug and the wolf snapped at his hand. “Listen, lady, I need to get that spear out.”
The growl that answered him was not reassuring.
“I’m helping. I’m your friend.” He reached for the shaft again but she yelped and backed away.
Cian crouched in the pool’s shallows and they stared at each other. Blood slowly seeped down her leg. “I’m going to show you something, ken?”
The amber eyes blinked at him.
Cian quickly shed the rest of his clothes and then got down on all fours. With a moment’s concentration, he shifted his form into a wolf and then sat back on his haunches. He waited for her response to his revelation but was not expecting her to shimmer and shift into a human. The broken shaft stuck out of her thigh, leaking blood down skin pale as milk, staining the clear water around her. Her arms and legs were covered with freckles the same color as her hair, the same auburn as had marked the wolf. She looked up at him with eyes that were now hazel. “Help me.”
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Bridach woke to a small face with big blue eyes just a few inches from her own. She jerked back and the little face smiled and then whirled around. “Da! She’s awake!” She tugged back the hanging blanket and ran out of the small room.
Bridach looked around the small room. The bed she was on was beautifully carved and piled with furs and woven blankets that were fraying around the edges. The cloth hanging that separated this space from the rest of the cottage was beautifully patterned, but its edges were fraying as well. She tried to sit up but the pain in her leg made her grimace and she laid back down before pulling back the coverings to see her leg. Whoever had pulled out the spear had packed wool over it and then tightly wrapped it in pale cloth. No blood had seeped through the bandages. She looked around for her clothing and saw them sitting on top of a small chest at the foot of the bed. Right as she was about to reach for them, the hanging drew back and the man from the pond stood there with a bowl in his hand. “I brought you some stew.”
At the scent of the food, her stomach rumbled loud enough for the man to hear it and he grinned. “I’d like to get dressed first, if you don’t mind.”
He nodded and picked up her clothes and moved them closer to her. “Just give a shout when you’re ready.”
Bridach bound her breasts and then pulled on her trousers and tunic. She left her boots and socks off for now; she didn’t think she’d be walking very far in the next few days. She quickly went through her satchel and found nothing missing, and her staff was propped in one corner. Her cloak was still sitting on the chest. Whoever he was, he’d been careful enough to retrieve all of her belongings, strong enough to carry her back to his house, however far that had been, and compassionate enough to rescue a wolf against armed strangers. She had been scared to turn back into a woman, fearing another attack like the one she had just survived, but when he had revealed himself to be a faoladh as well, she knew she was safe.
Grabbing hold of the bed frame she managed to get to her feet, but when she tried to walk, her leg wouldn’t bear any weight. “Hello?”
The blanket moved aside again and he was standing there with the bowl of soup. “I don’t think you should be out of bed.”
“I, however, do. Do you have a chair I might use?”
“Laoise, come put this bowl on the table.”
The little girl ran over and took the bowl and carried it over to the table with tiny steps to keep it from sloshing. The man’s fond smile was visible even through his ginger beard. “Put your arm around my shoulders.”
She grabbed the man’s shoulder and he helped her hobble over to the table. She seated herself on the bench and Laoise pushed the bowl of stew over to her.
“You eat. I’ll be back in a bit and we can talk.”
“Where are you going?”
“I have some work I need to finish up. Don’t worry. I’m not going to tell tales. The only other person who knows you’re here right now is Gráinne who sewed up your leg, and Laoise who has been told to be as silent as a fox sneaking up on a chicken.”
The little girl laughed at her father and he ruffled her brown hair. “Take care of the nice lady while I’m gone, little fox.”
She nodded and her father walked out the door, shutting it quietly behind him. Bridach ate the soup quietly and the little girl watched her with wide eyes, twisting some of her hair around her finger. “Are you a wolf lady?” she finally asked.
Bridach put down the wooden spoon. “How do you know about wolf ladies?”
“My mumma was a wolf lady.”
So the man had found a mate. That meant the little girl in front of her was a wolf lady in the making. She had never been around a pup before. “Yes, I’m a wolf lady.”
“Are you going to die like my mumma? I saw you bleeding.”
Bridach’s heart contracted painfully. No wonder she had been watching so carefully to see if the new lady was going to wake up. “No, little fox. I’m not going to die. At least not any time soon.”
“Good.” She scampered across the room and pulled out a chair that had been hiding in the shadows of the hearth. “You should come sit here. It’s a nice chair. It even rocks.”
With Laoise’s help, Bridach made it over into the rocking chair. The polished wooden arms were perfectly shaped to fit her arms and the little girl climbed up the ladder into the loft and tossed down a pillow before jumping back down and pulling it over in front of the fire. She plopped down on it. “Tell me a story.”
Bridach was just finishing up a story about a fish who outwitted three trolls when the man came back. Laoise was enraptured, her chin resting on her hands as she listened. He frowned as she told the last bit of the story, and as soon as she finished he called to his daughter. “Go out and play for a while. I saw some ripe strawberries down where the creek bends this morning. Maybe you and Saraid can go find some.”
“Yes, Da.” The child picked up a basket by the door and went out. Bridach could hear her yelling for her friend as soon as the door shut.
“Who told you that you could sit there?”
“Laoise did. I’m sorry. Is it not allowed?”
The man rubbed his hand over his beard and then through his hair. “I made that chair for my wife. No one’s sat in it since she died.”
Bridach lurched to her feet. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know, Laoise told me to and then demanded a story and –,”
She was cut off with a wave of his hand. “You didn’t know, and Laoise barely remembers her mother. You’ve done no harm. Just a bit of a shock to see it being used again.” Bridach was still standing on her feet, bracing her weight against the wall with her hand. “Go ahead and sit.”
“Are you sure?”
“Aye. Sit.” Bridach lowered herself into the chair again and he pulled up a bench. “I see Laoise didn’t let you finish before she got a story out of you.” He handed her the bowl.
“I didn’t mind.”
“Well eat that, and when you’re done, we’ll have a talk about who you are, why you were wandering around the forest in the altogether, and who those men were.”
“I’m Bridach, I was trying to take a bath, and I’ve never seen them before.” She scooped up a spoonful of the soup and popped it into her mouth.
“I’m Cian. You’re safe here. We’ve had at least one faoladh in this village for generations and everyone knows it.”
Bridach let her head relax against the high back of the chair. “That’s a relief. I was trying to figure out how I could escape with a lame leg but I’ll stop plotting now.”
“Gráinne will come by later to look at your leg again. She stitched you up and she’ll dose you unconscious if you start walking around before she thinks you ought to be moving and I’d rather go up against two hands of those men out there than disobey Gráinne when she’s pronounced her wisdom on you.”
Bridach was interested in meeting this Gráinne while awake. She had passed out from pain or blood loss not long after the man had picked her up, and remembered nothing after that until waking up to see Laoise staring at her. “And where will I stay while I recover?” Perhaps Gráinne would have a place for her to stay until she recuperated.
“Here.”
She looked around the small cottage. There were no other beds and she wouldn’t be able to climb the ladder. “There’s no room for me here.”
“There’s plenty of room. Laoise and Ruarc sleep upstairs in the loft and the bed is big enough for us both, or I can sleep here in front of the fire.”
Bridach wasn’t sure which part of that statement to address first. “Ruarc?”
“My son.”
“Oh.” Better have it out now, she decided. “You’re not expecting me to lay with you, are you?”
His laughter showed a mouthful of decidedly un-wolfish teeth and her embarrassment at his obvious dismissal caused her to blush so markedly she looked sunburned. “Of course not. I’ll go wolf and sleep at the foot of the bed if you’re worried, but no. If you decide you want to enjoy a bit of bedplay when you’re feeling better, you’ve got a mouth and two good hands. I’m sure you can find some way to let me know. But I’ll not make an advance on you. My job is to protect the lost and the wandering. You don’t pay me for that.”
Bridach nodded and let her hair hide her face as she ate the rest of her soup. She was grateful for the opportunity to den up and recover without having to worry about food or safety. She’d just have to make sure she was gone before she went into heat again. Humans were bad enough to be around when she was in rut. Being around a male faoladh would be a disaster.