​​

Back across the track he went carrying a brace of rabbits for the table.

 

Winding down the glen he dropped one at the widow's door and headed up the other side. 

 

There a sturdy longhouse made with fit stone and lumber stood atop a knoll flanked on either sides by red pines and ash. Across the way, aspen thickets guarded the high ground in the marsh.

 

Children played round the stone firepit as a lady they all enjoyed sat peeling potatoes. 

 

The Longhunter set to work cleaning the game and preparing it for the pot. He had pulled thyme from the heather fields on the way back in. He rolled and crushed the thyme in his fingers as he added.

 

The calling of the Glenhorns had brought him round earlier than intended. The hillsides shook from the sound. 

 

News has been delivered from the coastal hamlets of ships -- which bore black and gold -- raiding villages in the south.

 

Each clan was to send out their Longhunter to the coast, so they might learn what they could and return home by the next moon‘s end.

 

As such, he set out with kit and kiss for the ones with which he shared a roof.

 

Ride on Longhunter, ride on.

 

Down the glen he rode on a sturdy pony until he reached the crossing. He stopped along the wayside at his clan’s Rowan tree. 

 

He pressed his head hard against the trunk and held it there for several minutes before climbing back on to the pony. He smiled as the wind blew at his back while he rode out of the glen into the delta.

 

Good-eating fish with golden-tails lived in the brackish water there for they fed on the burrowed crabs in the silt.

 

Tidal pools plunged down from the rocky glen in the foothills. Some folk stayed there during the warm season, fishing and crabbing and weaving.

 

The way wound back through the forest where wary birds chirped at the presence of interlopers. The Longhunter rode and walked and broke for camp near sundown. 

 

An iron sunset sank into the great landbridge as he lit a small fire overlooking the falls. 

 

The Longhunter carried a small lyre which he plucked and played before he lay to rest on his bedroll — his mind planning a route to the coast for the day to come. 

​

 

The urgent call of the red-cloaked cardinal woke him as sunrise broke the horizon. Nature pressed her face through the veil to show beauty and grace. The night had been dark and full of fitful dreams and she was a welcome sight.

 

Camp was dispersed quickly. As he headed down the trail, he glanced back over his shoulder to make sure there was no trace of his stay. 

 

It was clear. 

 

Down he went from the high grounds into the coastal plains, softly singing the fishing song.

 

for where ere I may roam

there’s a bed aside the road

and a place next to a stream 

for me to be

 

come thaw and time again

when the salmon reach the head 

the river roars and the bank is lined

 

By mid-day he was firmly within sight of the Atreidae — twin hills breaking the monotony of the sea-plains and offering vantage round and unto the nearer-now sea. 

 

Old fortifications from wars and people gone past remained as the Longhunter stopped and took his bearings.

 

Keeper’s Note Vol. I

 

the water comes as such from the snow-capped peaks of Boreas

it rushes down the gullies towards the altar

there it piles into a loch at the foot of Rollyr

it roars down the cascades as the Clearwater

going until it reaches the Riverlands where it turns

wide and slow and still — but always pulling

fowl and fish are plentiful and added to the larders

of the people of this place

from there it becomes the delta and meets the Firthene

 

the Atreidae stood in a hook of Firthene

from there it was natural as such to see the comings and going of the sea

 

else to view --

one would have to continue all the way

to the rocky cliffs and look below

where huge swells would crash and cave the stone

as it had for ages

 

but here with the meetings of the water and of change in height

the fog and mist would roll

covering the skies in cloying darkness

for this was also the land of starless nights — the great blackness

 

Here on clear days

if one was looking right

and the northern wind blew hard

you could see the lights swaying overhead

looking down upon the world and observing

 

-Remark 1

 

What had first seemed no more than a gull on the wind, soon turned to be the speck of a boat on the sea. The last day had seen camp and a push from the mounds into the sea-cliff territory.

 

There the Longhunter and pony had ridden and walked the beach for miles along the coast. 

 

But he was sure of it now, that was a boat.

 

He regained the high ground and followed the boats trajectory until the currents would take it to shore.

 

Satisfied with his estimation, he found himself a small hide in which to wait.

 

She had pushed off in the early morning and had remembered the words spoken to her. 

 

She had rowed and rowed until she could not bear to row any more. 

 

She could not recall when she had fallen off the bench and onto the heaps of bundled papers and scrolls. 

 

But she had done so, and now she was on her back looking towards the cosmos.

 

Twilight had come.

 

In the sun’s retreat, wind and current started pulling her near enough to shore that the land-currents led her to beach the vessel on the rock.

 

And that is now where she sat.

 

Gazing at the sea and the red glow of the horizon. 

 

She said nothing, but he watched as tears streamed down her face. 

 

She began to stand up and slipped on the worn stone. She fell into the grey waters of the Firthene that held what was left of her people.

 

She began to wail as the waves pushed her towards shore. 

​

The Longhunter stepped down from the perch and walked into the surf, picking her up and carrying her towards shore.

 

She began screaming and clawing at him as soon as his foot made solid ground. He set her down and moved to a nearby rock. 

 

She wailed at the doom of her people until she could wail no more.

 

She fainted and nearly hit the ground before the Longhunter grabbed her arm.

 

He placed her across his shoulders as the sun shot crimson flumes into the coming darkness.

 

The Longhunter watched the sinking disc for a moment before he redistributed her weight and she woke for just a moment.d

 

"It is dark, how will you climb?"

 

The Longhunter smiled at her in the waning light,

 

"By placing one foot in front of the other my young-friend, so that we will find our way when we cannot see.

 

Do not worry, I have no hold over you. 

 

Come, we go home."

 

The Keeper and the Longhunter made their way up the cliffside in the dark.