Skara Braens

Part 43

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Much more sensible. ONWARDS!

"Under cover of darkness seems a good enough plan," you note.  "Voice, have you a name?"

"I have not a name," the soft feminine voice says.  "Or if I did, then it is long forgotten."

"Are you a ghost, then?" Artair asks.

"I do not know."

"What do you know?"

"That I was made to guard this place, and keep safe those who prove worthy."

"Did you conjure this food?" Mordina asks?

"You said you were hungry. Is this not to your liking."

"Are you mad? It's absolutely delicious."

"I am glad."

"Would you like a name?" you ask.

There is a long pause.  "You would name me?"

"Well, I can't keep calling you 'voice' now can I?"

Another pause.  "A name." The voice sounds distant, lost in thought.  "Such an honour..."

"What about Taibhs?" Artair murmurs to you.

"That's beautiful," you answer.  "What does it mean."

Artair grins.  "Ghost."

You snort, but then consider.  "Would you mind being called Taibhs?"

Another silence.  "I like this name."

"Then that's what we'll call you.  Taibhs.  Well, thank you for this feast, Taibhs.  It is delicious."

"You are always welcome."  You feel a tingle on your left shoulder, as if someone had touched you there.  You turn to look, but there is nothing.  Or, perhaps, there was Taibhs.  There could be no telling.

You and your companions continue to eat until you cannot eat anymore.  Overfull, your eyes begin to droop.

"If the worthy wish to sleep, you will find bedding."

"What? Where?" Drest says, looking around.

Artair rises from his place and walks back into the first room.  "In here!" he called back.

As one, everyone rises and returns to the first cavern.  They find the room transformed.  On the walls hang tapestries and embroideries, depicting scenes you are certain are from distant history, given that the figures on them are holding spears and clubs.  Around the room, several beds have been set up.

These are not mere bedrolls, but actual beds, made with rough-cut oak posts and possessing canopies of finely woven wool.  The blankets were made of stitched together furs and skins, covering a bed that looked like it had sheets of linen.  Artair was absorbed by the wall hangings, so you walked forward to claim a bed.  You pulled back the fur blanket to find a mattress of stuffed linen.  You reach out and pressed on it.  Whatever it was stuffed with, it was soft and smelled of lavender.

"Oh!" Mordina says, slipping into her chosen bed.  "This is comfortable!"

Needing no further coaxing, you slip into the bed and cover yourself in furs.  Guarded against the steady chill of the surrounding earth, you close your eyes.  You fall asleep immediately.

"Hello, Eagle of the Stones."

You open your eyes, finding yourself in a round house, not unlike the one in the village you left behind to come to Shapinsay.  Frowning, you turn your head.