The Coming of Finn

Chapter III

Passage

Finn spent three full days alone in the forest. Nothing could have been harder on his guardians than the empty silence. During the tedious wait, Liath burned every loaf of bread she baked, did every house chore once and twice, and began them a third time before it became too irritating for the druidess who told her sharply, "Liath, leave off for mercy's sake!" At which point Liath burst into tears, which was all Bodhmall needed before she too was sobbing in her companion's arms. Despite their best efforts to shut out the truth, it became clear to Bodhmall and Liath that their time of innocence in the forest was over. All the life had left their cottage; its purpose and meaning had ended.

Finn entered the cottage on the morning of the fourth day, looking years older than when he had left. He tried to act light and casual, but the silences were strained and full of other tales. The old women saw a shadow within his eyes; a dark brooding had taken hold of his spirit.

Like his guardians, the boy seemed to recognize that his time in the forest of his childhood was over. After a light breakfast, he took his leave of them to release all of the wounded and broken-winged creatures he'd collected and cared for over the years. One by one, they were turned out to fare as best as they could, most needing to be shooed away in confusion and bewilderment.

Finn spent the rest of the day with Bodhmall. She gave him his final preparation for what he would meet beyond the borders of the wilderness. She described a world where life and human values mattered little next to a fist full of gold and a belly full of meat, a land where a man would just as likely run you down in the road as to have to prompt his steed around you, a land where greed was the first law and vengeance ruled thereafter.

Bodhmall instructed Finn to be always on his guard against anyone asking him over many questions about where he came from or his personal affairs. Until the time of his own choosing, she warned him never to reveal his actual name and proper heritage. Instead, she suggested he take up the name of Deimne and account for himself as the son of a huntsman of the remote north. Bodhmall explained that this would give as convincing a story as possible for the flavor of the wild forest about him and that everything would appear so new to his eyes.

Finally, when she finished all her instructions, Bodhmall made a final request. She told Finn that before passing into the peopled places, she wished him to travel to a certain ancient forest known as the Wood of the Turning Timbers, bordering the misty banks of the legendary River Blackwater. Seven years previously, a renowned druid named Fingal the Mouse, an old friend of Bodhmall's, had passed into this forest and was never seen nor heard from again. It was said that Fingal had entered the Wood of the Turning Timbers in search of the legendary Salmon of Knowledge, those very fish which, according to uncanny tale, had once journeyed to the Pools at the World's End and therein feasted on the tiny Purple Nuts of Knowledge which fall from the Nine Hazel Trees of Wisdom. As legend had it, whosoever could catch and eat of these salmon, even as they once ate of the Purple Nuts of Knowledge, theirs would be the gift of knowledge greater than any human had ever known. No mortal could say whether Fingal had been able to do such a thing. Bodhmall urged the boy to seek out the old man. She said that if the druid was yet alive, by steadfast determination, Finn could indeed find him. Giving him neither word nor reason for such a quest, she let it go.

Finn listened to this as quietly as he had the rest of the things said to him by the druidess. When he was certain Bodhmall had finished, he thanked her for all she had done. The three had a tasteless and labored meal together in the evening and gratefully went to bed. But there was little or no comfort in sleep that night.

Morning came, and with it, the time of departure. There was nothing to say. To turn eyes toward the unknown world awaiting him seemed the best way to go. Bearing little more than a traveling cloak, a satchel of provisions packed for him by Liath, and a small sword, bow, and quiver of arrows, Finn paused at the edge of the forest. He cast a final, reluctant eye upon the women and cottage which had been all of his childhood and home. He hesitated. He sensed somehow, he would never see them again. Everything was so bottled up inside of him. There was much he wished to say, but somehow, he couldn't speak or think. He couldn't turn away, yet he couldn't go back.

It was Liath who finally broke the tension, wonderful kind-hearted Liath, unable to contain herself any longer, murmured, "Oh, my Finn..." It was not a big sound, just a tiny, quiet sound, but it was all it took for Finn to burst across the distance between them and fill their waiting arms. He wouldn't allow himself to cry, although he could feel their bodies shaking with tears, yet for a moment, he held on so tightly to his guardians it seemed he would not lose them for all life. Then, slowly, he did release them. He turned and, without looking back, set out on his own.