Litany of Thorns

Ch. 1

Beneath the canopy of ancient oak and mile-high birch, shielded from the worst of a summer downpour by an awning of great branches and emerald leaves, hid a small, thatched cottage in the depths of the forest. Vines crept up the wooden walls of the abode and the large door at the front hung ajar, its small brass knocker engraved with images of flowers and rattling against the wind. Chipped paint in a dozen colours decorated the walls and flowers of equal vibrance sat neatly in pots along its walls and in planters that hung from its roof. Whereas the root-infested earth of the forest had been overtaken by thick mud and puddles of rainwater the cottage remained comfortable and dry, with only the lightest drizzle to dampen its thatched roof and water the vegetable-sown gardens that surrounded it. It was poorly hidden despite the ever-present shade of the trees, the dancing of candlelight in the windows a beacon compared to the dim glow of tower-sized mushrooms that dotted the treeline, and a thin trail of white smoke rose from its single chimney. It was the only thing that dared to reach above the forest crown.

A single, white-furred goat stood huddled beneath a tiny stable that set against the cottage wall, sheltered from the rain and kept warm by small bundles of dried hay stacked in the corner. It gnawed lazily at the few strands of fresh grass and leaves that crept from the gardens into the stable, rain dampening its exposed snout. Its ears flicked back and forth at the sounds of falling rain, clucking chickens, and the occasional clatter of metal or shuffle of footsteps from the adjacent cottage. The forest was large and dense with foliage, an endless maze beyond the comfortable confines of the cottage, but as expansive and as empty as it seemed it was never quiet.

"Your fur is dreadfully matted, Siarl," said a woman who knelt beside the grazing goat as she pulled a grooming brush through its thick fur in firm and steady strokes. "Dairine does not give you the care you deserve, does she?"

The woman patted his horned head once she had tugged out the remaining knots and the goat responded with a half-hearted bleat. Bringing one arm up to her forehead she wiped a thin sheen of sweat and rainwater from her brow and adjusted the few loose strands of dark red hair that fell from her neat braid. She was a tall woman, having to rest on her knees to best groom the feeding animal. It dirtied the hem of her otherwise immaculate dress but she endured it, reluctantly, until she rose to her feet and the stubborn goat turned its head to butt her in the chest. She winced in surprise as she fell backwards into the dirt, staining her dress that she put so much effort into keeping well maintained.

"You ungrateful little brat..."

This was normally the responsibility of her sister, as was tending to most of the garden, but fickle as she was she had gone wandering to play out in the forest without telling anyone. Once again she was neglecting her duties and left it all to her elder sister, and once again they would argue about it once she returned. The conflict was almost boring in how frequent it was and she was not eager to repeat it.

The auburn-haired woman was at least happy that it was dry under the shelter and her garments remained otherwise unsullied by the mud and the rain that soon broke into a torrent. There was nothing to be done about the clumps of thick, white fur over her hands though no matter how hard she tried to brush them off.

Scrambling to her feet the woman began to pull tufts of matted fur from the heavy brush before setting it aside on a shelf in the small stable. She reached across, grasping the handle of a small wicker basket she had set to her side some time before and pulled up the towel that covered it to inspect the produce hidden beneath. She poked at the batch of eggs she had collected fresh from the chicken coop, meticulously inspecting them for breaks and fractures. She had done it when she collected them but inspecting them again was a compulsive act. A ritual. It was something to keep her mind free from the thoughts that plagued her mind and worried her. It was hard to truly banish them as she found her vision drifting out towards the edge of the treeline.