Fields of honey-coloured barley bent back and forth, combed by a gentle breeze in the early morning sun. Bran Wode stood on the stone slab in front of the cottage he shared with his mother and brother, surveying the bounty they had grown and making plans for the harvested surplus. He half-turned to join his family inside around the breakfast table when a movement from across the field caught his eye. Something was moving rapidly down the lane toward his home. Bran narrowed his eyes, trying to discern what or who was approaching. Given the time of year, anyone could be on his or her way to deliver provisions for the annual Feast of Samhain that took place on the border of his family’s land.
The celebration site was located a half mile beyond the front pasture of his family’s farm, and the Wode’s were commonly regarded as the unofficial hosts of the gathering. Bran grunted and fled indoors to raise the warning; he had identified the occupants of the cart as the Carnagans and wanted to give the rest of the household fair warning.
“Ach, ‘tis Derek Carnagan and his sister come to poke their noses where they don’t belong,” he bellowed, striding into the small kitchen. “C’mon. We best head out the back door and avoid…”
His mother raised her head from the spoonful of porridge she’d been about to eat and grinned. “Bran Wode, you’re a grown man, and you’re about to let some lass scare you off your own breakfast? I knew they’d be by this morning. Mother Carnagan passed on the lane yesterday and said she’d be sending them with a load of wool. I offered to spin it into yarn in exchange for enough to make new jumpers for us this year. If I’m not mistaken, this year’s generous bounty hints at a hard winter to come. Arduina has blessed us so we’ll be prepared.”
Bran’s brother, Ronan, snorted into his steaming mug of breakfast tea. “I think Bran would rather Mother Carnagan’s daughter kept him warm this win—aye, lad—I was only—” Ronan choked and sputtered as Bran tackled him to the floor. The brothers tussled on the floor, each dodging in turn the thick wooden legs of the table. When the men had hit the floor their mother had simply picked up her bowl and stood on her chair. She protested half-heartedly, knowing that her words were lost to their ears among the grunts and curses each was hurling at the other. The action only halted when Bran gained the upper hand and straddled Ronan’s chest. He quickly drew his wand from his belt and pointed it at Ronan’s nose.
“You don’t know what you’re bletherin’ on about. Take it back!” Bran’s usually ruddy complexion had deepened to an alarming shade of red. “Take it back, Ronan, or I will hex yer…” He froze when he heard the peals of feminine laughter ringing outside in the yard. Ronan took advantage of the distraction and deftly flipped Bran onto his back and knocked his wand from his hand. He grinned broadly at the pair of visitors who had crossed the threshold of their front door.
“Ah, Maggie, we were just discussing you.” He tilted his head in greeting at her brother. “Derek, fine morning, isn’t it?”
Maggie stooped to pick up Bran’s wand, which had rolled to a stop in front of the hearth. A small fire was flickering there, and Maggie’s eyes twinkled as she twirled the wand dangerously close to the licking flames. “Hm, discussing me? Was dear Bran cursing me good name?” Smirking, she dipped the tip of the wand toward the licking flames.
“Carnagan, you’ll stop that now if you know what’s good for ya,” Bran gasped as Ronan shifted his weight more heavily on his chest. Ronan held his hand out toward Maggie for the wand.
She laughed again and tossed it into his outstretched palm. “Is this how you’ve taught your younger brother to treat a lady, Ronan?”
Ronan lifted his body from Bran’s and jumped quickly away, sure of his brother’s swift retaliation. “Don’t be daft, girl, you know that this lad is the most stubborn bull. None of the wisdom I—”
Derek cleared his throat, interrupting Ronan and drawing all attention in the room to him. “As much as I like a visit to this house, I have more important reasons for visiting than to bring that load of wool in the cart. Maggie, why don’t you go help Bran unload it?”
“I will do no such thing,” Maggie stated, crossing her arms over her chest in what she hoped was a sufficiently defiant posture. “I am more interested in what you have to say to Ronan and Mother Wode here than I am in helping that numpty unload a cart full of—”
“Maggie Carnagan, this news does not concern you right now. We will talk when the time is right,” Derek cut in. He grinned then, cracking the worry lines that creased his eyes. “Or I’ll have to tell Bran about what I read in that little book you carry everywhere with you!”
Now it was Maggie’s turn to flush a deep red. “Derek, how could…I don’t…argh!” She threw her hands in the air and spun around, quickly stalking out the door. Bran heaved a sigh and followed her. It wasn’t until Derek heard the shifting of the boards from the back of the wagon that he began detailing his news to Mother Mary Wode and Ronan.
* * * * * * * * *
Derek waited until he heard the chains rattle against the wagon, signalling Bran and Maggie unloading the load of wool. He began in a low whisper, "Kieran Donnelly stopped in yesterday to settle up a debt with me mum. He brought news that Donal MacLowe has been talkin' to some of the folks livin' close on the other side of our southern borders. Some of the lords, Kieran called them. Seems they're interested in our doings again up here. Kieran didn't say exactly what it was that's pullin' their thoughts our way again, but I'll wager it's the start of trouble all over again." He paused and scratched his cheek, his fingers tangling in the thick, dark curls that had sprouted there.
"Ronan, I'm goin' to pay a visit to every family in this valley and on the coast. I want you to come with me. We need to work out where alliances are still alive and which way the winds are blowin' for the folk livin' close to the borderlands."
Ronan glanced at his mother and then back at Derek. "Do we know for certain that MacLowe means trouble? I don't know if I can leave the lands at this time of year. It would mean leavin' the care and safety of this place in only Bran's hands, and I don't know if his time has come, yet." He paused, twisting a thick metal band that circled his smallest finger. The movement didn't go unnoticed by either Mary or Derek.
"Ronan," Mary sighed, gripping his hand, "we will be fine here. I believe Bran is ready. Yes, his protective magic is a mite weak, but we're not under attack. He's a man now, too, Ronan. You'll have to let him learn on his own some time."
"Bran may soon have more help than he can handle." Derek fixed Ronan with his dark eyes. "We will ride to the coast villages first. If I don't like the news we hear there, I may press those families to seek refuge between our lands. These times are going to call for us to pull together; I'm sure of it."
Ronan scoffed, "What makes you think any of them will listen to us? You're talkin' about uprootin' whole villages! Two men, who were barely children during the last battle-they'll think..."
"Ronan, stop!" Mary's voice rang out sharply. "Derek is right. Anyone within our borders would be honoured to be visited by the two of you. You are both well-respected. Why, even the elders consult you both in all manner of decisions." Her eyes had grown hard, and they glinted like the steel of a blade as she delivered the four words she knew would spur him into action.
"Don't be a coward."
* * * * * * * * *
Outside, Maggie and Bran had begun their task in an agitated silence. Neither appreciated being dismissed like a couple of silly children when important matters were to be discussed. The two had fallen into a wordless rhythm as Maggie hefted each bundle of wool into Bran's arms. Taking a bundle at a time from Maggie, Bran stacked each under the protection of the barn's eaves. Bran noticed as more bundles accumulated against the wall that the amount of wool Mother Carnagan had sent them was enough to spin nearly one hundred skeins of yarn. They would be a busy lot until the feast with him and Derek tending the harvest and their mother spinning this bunch. He wondered briefly if Mother Carnagan would spare Maggie to help with the spinning so that their family would have a few new jumpers when the fall winds began to blow.
"What are ya grinnin' about, you idiot?" Maggie's voice cut through his thoughts.
"Nothin' to do with you, I'm sure," he grumbled and gave a small shove to the bundle of wool they were holding between them.
"Oh!" Maggie cried. The push had thrown her off balance, and she tumbled into the bed of the wagon. Bran quickly dropped the bundle and peered over the side of the bed. A low growl was building in Maggie's throat, and Bran bit down hard on his lip to keep from laughing at the sight of the girl sprawled haphazardly over the remaining bundles. He quickly sobered when he noticed the distance her skirts had travelled up her legs and fought the mad blush that took over his face for the second time that day. Maggie bellowed, "Quit your gawkin', and help me up!"
Bran extended his hand for her to grasp. As soon as he hauled her to her feet, a voice roared from inside the house, and Bran nearly dropped her. He knew the voice behind that roar belonged to Ronan. He smirked at Maggie as she steadied herself, her hands resting against his chest. "Shall we go in and find out what all the excitement's about?"
She returned his smirk and pushed gently against his chest. "Thought you would never ask... Idiot."
They didn't need to wait long to have their curiosity satisfied. As they entered the front hallway, they could hear Ronan clearly. "A coward? Me? You dare call me -- me own mum!"
Derek caught sight of Bran and Maggie first and grinned, ready to bait Ronan a bit further. He winked at Bran. "You know full well Bran is ready to take on the responsibilities of runnin' this farm. You mean to tell me you're goin' to hide behind your little brother as an excuse to shirk your duty to your family and the rest of us? Old Cathal is likely turnin' over in his grave. And to think your da' was so proud of you!"
"Me? Run the farm?" Bran's incredulous laugh rang in the small kitchen. "What are you on about, Carnagan?"
"You'll be havin' to hear that from your brother. It's not my place to run this home," Derek replied, hooking a hand around Maggie's forearm. "Ronan, I will be real disappointed if I have to contact one of our lesser brethren to accompany me on this trip. I leave no later than sunrise on the morrow. Come now, Maggie."
Ronan levelled his glare on Derek. "You will be seeing me before sunrise on the morrow. No one calls a Wode a coward!"