The Red Lion

Chapter Seven

          I awoke to Scotland's late autumn chill filling my room. My wife next to me clung to the sheets, her knees lifted to her chest. I kept a thick linen cover wrapped around my torso, even though the nip in the air seldom bothered me.

I arose from the bed and donned my woolen trousers and roughspun tunic and a thickly lined wool cloak dyed blue as the banner of Scotland. Aileen often slept later than I did. Then again, she managed the servants, a task that kept her on her feet everyday, earning her much deserved rest, especially in these times.

The fire in the stone pit was almost dead and there was little wood left to sustain it. Finan and I would have to take some boys into the nearby forest and fell a few pines. The pop and crack of burning pine always was a comforting sound to me. It reminded me of the ventures my father would take Dairmad and me on into these same woods to gather firewood and flowers for our mother when we were young. Dairmad, being bigger and stronger than me, would always carry the axe while I would be left to gather sticks and branches from the smaller trees.

I ambled over to the fireplace and warmed my open palms on the glowing embers. "Has it burned out?" my wife's voice asked from behind in her familiar groggy way.

"Not yet," I said, turning my head to her. She was raising her arms outward, stretching. Her brown hair fell behind her and onto her torso, covering the front of her white linen sleep gown. Her hair was longer than most women, a testament to her pagan past as her kinswomen often abstained from cutting their hair for long periods of  time to mimic their goddesses. Aileen had told me that every child born in Aurelicast is birthed under the sign of a specific deity. This blessing is only bestowed by the mother of the child, a sacred and revered responsibility. Aileen's mother blessed her as a child of Sulis, the goddess of healing.

I, however, was the definition of standard when it came to Scottish lords: brown hair that fell just past my ears, eyes green like emeralds, average height and build. I admired Aileen for her deviation; it made her stand out in a way I enjoyed.

"I'll take Finan and some of the younger servants out with me in the afternoon to gather wood. It should nae take more than a few hours."

"Will the wood last until the afternoon?" she asked.

"It should," I responded.

Upon our getting dressed and descending the stairs to the work-world below, it was evident that the current supply of firewood wouldn't last the day's end, perhaps earlier. The servant-nurses were now making crutches for the injured men and helping them to walk about the great hall. It was a cringe-worthy affair, watching them shamble around guided by my servants. They often stumbled and fell to the ground, airing the hall with curses and swears. Finan, however, almost found it comical. When a man suddenly slipped on a puddle made by a leaking bucket and fell to the ground, hitting his head on a cot on the way down, Finan chuckled lightly.

My eyes widened at him. "What in the heavens are you laughing at?" I said to him in a loud whisper.

He turned to me, smiling. "He reminds me of my bumbling older brother, Lord. A strong lad he was up until he got hurt by an even bigger lad in a tavern brawl. Nearly broke his head open in his drunken state."

My face must have shown bewilderment as Finan continued, assuming enjoyment at the pain of siblings was a foreign concept to me. "That's what we did as brothers. We'd fight, cry, then laugh the pain and bruises away. It was a great pastime between two brothers my senior, three my junior."

Six children, I thought. What an ordeal for the mother.

"What," he said. "You never fought with Dairmad?"