GUILLAUME VI
Guillaume woke with the grogginess of an interrupted dream and struggled to make sense of his surroundings. A songbird called out in warbling tones as early morning light flooded through the windows of the witch’s hut. Guillaume’s mind slowly reacclimatized itself to the physical world, but a small fragment held onto the knowledge of the land of dreams. The others seemed to be facing similar struggles and were slow to rise from the floor. “What now?” Guillaume asked them and the question needed no translation. Esker flexed her neck and rolled her shoulders, before picking up the harvestman’s barbed limb, which was beginning to smell. Eógan grabbed the cast-iron pan once again, then noticed a still bloody dagger that had been placed next to it and took that instead. He crept towards one of the two windows framing the front door, peered out into the bog and said something in Gaídel to Liadan. Meanwhile, Lady Galdr snored peacefully on her sleeping pallet, seemingly lost to the world.
Liadan translated for Guillaume, “Eógan says that the path looks to be clear. On our way here, we crossed a river to east. With the heavy snowfall of the past winter, it looked to be flooded in portions. Perhaps we can find the mushrooms we need along its banks.” Eógan slowly reached out towards the door handle. After the knotted vines and brambles retracted, he opened it and stepped out into the brisk morning. Esker followed after him, along with Liadan. Guillaume took one last look at Lady Galdr sleeping before gently closing the door behind him. The blanket bog was eerily peaceful, dragonflies buzzed about and a hawk circled high overheard. Guillaume noticed how attentive Eógan was to the bird of prey’s languorous arcs across the partially clouded sky. Esker took the lead and they walked in single file along the winding path that led towards the massive tree. She seemed bothered by the morning light and moved slowly, but made up for it with her long stride. There were no signs of the mist demons that had terrorized them the prior night and the glow of the Foxfire was hushed during the day. It felt as if each of them were holding their breath, anticipating a sudden ambush that never came. Despite the coolness of the spring morning, Guillaume was drenched in sweat by the time they passed through the gnarled roots marking the entrance to Lady Galdr’s bog. As they reached the periphery of the wetlands, Liadan pointed towards hedge like growths that were covered in small white blossoms. “These are elder flowers. My people associate them with woods witches because the trees are often said to be quite dear to them.” Eógan bent over to carefully smell one of the white flowers and had a brief exchange with Liadan. “He says that in autumn, berries grow on elder trees. His people use them for medicinal purposes and that their dark color is used as a dye.”
The forest rose up beyond the stand of shorter elder trees, full of towering oaks and pines. Eóganranged out a bit ahead of the group, while Guillaume walked close to Esker and Liadan. Esker had been completely silent since exiting the dream world and Guillaume was frustrated that he could no longer communicate with her. He was equally annoyed that he had not only incorrectly assumed her gender, but had denied her personhoodby labeling her a devil. Liadan spoke up, piercing the silence that had bloomed between the four of them, “I grew up on the eastern side of these woods and spent much of my childhood exploring them. The river I mentioned should be a few hours walk east of here.” Eógan spoke up and based on his inflections, asked Liadan a series of questions. She replied to him and then explained to Guillaume, “Eógan says that we are looking for a silty area where the soil has been eroded by the riverbank. The exposed roots will collect debris and create a fairly open and sunny area, the perfect habitat for the mushrooms we are seeking.”
Guillaume remembered a lesson his tutor had given him on the subject, “I believe those are called alluvial plains, Liadan. They are high in sandy silt! They are also considered riparian zones and I have heard that mushrooms have a fondness for disruptions in the typical ecosystem.” Liadan looked at him with a mixture of curiosity and confusion, it reminded Guillaume of some of his exchanges with the other squires: exchanges that often left him dunked in a latrine pit, or a horse trough.
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“That sounds fascinating,” Liadan replied diplomatically, “but I am not fluent enough in Gaulish or tutored to understand all the words you are using. Alluvial plains are what you used to describe a flooded area by the river?”
“Yes! Apologies, I get excited when one of my lessons has real world application. I was often forced to memorize long histories of succession, or recount the tactics used in important battles.” Esker studied both of them as they talked and was clearly frustrated by her inability to comprehend or participate. She lashed out with the harvestman’s limb and perforated a large fern. Liadan and Guillaume exchanged a look before they continued their conversation.
“My upbringing was a bit different, I learned from the craftspeople in my village,” Liadan shared. “Our elders would tell us tales of Gaídel legend. When did you and the invaders.” She paused awkwardly, “I mean… when did you and the Jotman army arrive here?”
Guillaume was pensive. “No, you are right in calling us invaders. I am only beginning to understand that. Lord Osmand and the other Jotman in command do not think highly of the Gaídel. I arrived as part of Lord Osmond’s retinue the last cycle, near the end of summer. There was an advanced detachment already at the site of the castle, but most of his forces traveled across the sea with us.” They were not following a trail and Guillaume had trouble moving through the underbrush, his cloak kept getting snagged on brambles. Esker looked equally uncomfortable in this environment, she made a lot of noise as she thrashed her way through the brush. Liadan moved freely, despite wearing a flowing habit and Eógan moved as silently as a ghost. The Pecht would look back disapprovingly whenever Esker or Guillaume stepped on a twig, or tangled on a branch. Eógan gradually scouted further and further away from the group, soon he was out of sight. Guillaume asked Esker how she was fairing and she gave a non-committal shrug. Perhaps she did not understand what he was asking. They continued traveling without speaking for a time, before Guillaume asked Liadan, “What drew you to the church of the Broken Man?”
“At first it was an opportunity to learn, the priest set up a simple school for the children of my village. He shared teachings from the book of the Broken Man, yet did not force them upon us.” A light rain began to patter on the canopy above them and a few rivulets of water trickled down to where they walked. Liadan pulled the hood of her habit up over her head and Guillaume did the same with the cowl of his cloak. Esker appeared to be simultaneously fascinated by the sound of the rain on the leafs and annoyed by the cold water running down her red skin. Guillaume recalled seeing how blissful she was when bathing in the underground stream, but also remembered his embarrassment at her exhibitionistic tendencies. He wondered if she would behave as scandalously in the river they were seeking.
“What led you to pledging yourself to the Broken Man’s faith as a nun? That’s quite the commitment,” Guillaume asked.
Liadan hesitated and pressed her lips into a line, before responding, “The abbess and her sisters organized a procession through the town and told us of the beautiful cathedral that was under construction. I had a strong emotional reaction and began to feel the love of the Broken Man and the Holy Mother. The abbess claimed that I had performed miracles, but she turned out to not be as pious as she appeared…”
“Then I am glad that Esker and I did not make it to the abbey,” Guillaume replied somberly.
“I do not think your friend would have been well treated,” Liadan said, however, it was clear she had her own apprehensions about the Tengu. Given Eskers unique appearance, he understood that impulse. Guillaume hoped to be able to speak to Esker again soon, he already felt that a bond had formed between them, forged by the trials they had faced together in the castle’s dungeon and during their escape. “I am concerned about Eógan, he has been out of sight for some time now,” Liadan said. Guillaume could not recall the last time he saw the Pecht, his attentions had been focused on Liadan.
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