Chapter Six The wheel of the year turned slowly as winter took its grip across the valley,
Bringing grey days and dark skies.
A sharp wind whipped through the bare branches of the trees and around the corners of rocks,
Stinging eyes and causing the villagers to gasp with each intake of breath.
Rowan continued her duties at the Sacred Pool.
She had been admonished over her outburst on the Night of the Ancestors,
Her words counting as nothing against those of the magicians,
And,
Her father told her,
Brought disgrace upon the family when her shortcomings as the guardian of the Sacred Pool were brought to everyone's attention.
Following this,
He said no more,
But Rowan knew it to be only a matter of time before a decision was made concerning her future.
For the first time in her life,
Rowan began to respect the trust which had been placed in her through her simple work of tending the pool,
And to understand its importance to the people.
She wondered if she had lost both before she had known what they really meant.
Crow had said nothing further,
But she was aware of his presence and the fact he was continually watching her.
Watching and waiting.
It was on a morning when the clouds hung low on the horizon and the scent of snow was in the air when Rowan found the man.
Huddled beside the Sacred Pool,
Wrapped in animal hides,
He lay sleeping.
But by some instinct Rowan knew this man slept no healthy sleep,
The taut whiteness of the skin stretched across his high cheekbones,
And the rapid rise and fall of his chest pointing to the fact he was nearing his life journey's end.
She threw down her basket and ran to him,
Touching a brow which burned hot and cold at the same time.
After a moment his eyes fluttered open,
Brown as the nut of hazel,
She thought,
As another part of her mind raced for the knowledge to save him.
Come,
Can you stir?
She touched him gently,
He winced and Rowan realised the skins covering his shoulder were soaked in blood.
An image stole into her mind of the tiny creature she had rescued only a short while before,
Which had so bewilderingly disappeared,
Taking herself with it.
The man grunted,
Whether in agony or response she could not tell,
But Rowan understood the need to keep him warm and once again prepare a salve to heal the wound and a brew to lower his fever.
But she could not do it alone.
There was a movement at the entrance of the enclosure and Rowan turned to find Jun staring at the man,
Aware her twin's presence was due to the unmistakable link between them.
Thank the gods,
She whispered,
Come and help,
I need a fire built so I can make a salve and brew some herbs and this man needs to be kept warm or he will die.
Can we?
Rowan shook her head,
Knowing Jun's question before it left his lips.
No one must know of this.
She did not understand why herself,
Only that keeping his presence a secret was of imperative importance.
And anyway,
She continued,
He cannot be moved.
Jun stood for a moment,
Then turned to carry out Rowan's bidding.
I won't be long,
Promised Rowan,
And she was gone.
This time she knew exactly where to look for the herbs she needed.
Once again the antiseptic berries of the juniper and the blood-clotting properties of the yarrow were required,
Which she also proposed to use in a brew to reduce the man's fever.
It occurred to her that his wounds were very similar to those of the disappearing stoat.
Feeling for the first time she was doing something useful,
Rowan cut the last of the yarrow and placed the stems carefully in her basket alongside the juniper berries.
When she returned,
Jun would have lit the fire and the water would be heating.
She straightened up and stopped dead,
Aware she was no longer alone.
Turning slowly,
She found Crow standing right behind her.
Get out of my way,
Rowan's voice did not waver,
Although her heart was pounding.
Her body quivered and she was certain Crow sensed her discomfort,
Although she determined to hide it as best she could.
Crow smiled.
And why are you in such a hurry this dismal morning?
None of your business.
Rowan made to pass,
But he stepped into her path.
Remember,
He whispered,
Your days are numbered.
The ancestors have spoken and this sacred pool must be sacrificed to the gods.
He grimaced,
At best moved to another place.
You have spoken,
You mean,
Responded Rowan.
I know of your plan.
You don't deceive me.
You seek the treasure which lies beneath.
For a moment she wondered if she should have kept the information to herself,
But the flash of respect for her knowledge,
Swiftly followed by anger in Crow's eyes,
Confirmed she was correct.
Crow's hand snaked out and grasped Rowan's throat.
He was so quick she did not have time to react and could only gasp in pain as his grip tightened and the colours around her blurred as the world began to spin.
She grasped his wrist and struggled to release herself,
Aware that in a few moments she would be in a dead faint.
With the last of her strength she jabbed her knee sharply upwards and with a curse and a groan Crow loosened his grip and Rowan wrenched herself free.
But before she could escape Crow grabbed her foot and brought her tumbling to the ground once again,
Rolling over and imprisoning her against the clumps of reed amidst the mud of the riverbank.
You,
He hissed,
His voice low,
You will all pay for this,
Your silly little pool and your family and your village and your valley.
And as for you,
I curse you in the name of the ancestors who watch over us.
Rowan felt a swift stab of fear,
For these were strong words indeed.
She read the pure hatred and intent in Crow's eyes,
Wondering what had caused this man to turn his back on the community he had served for so many years.
She remembered how frightening Crow appeared when she was a child,
And recalled he was never granted the position of Guardian of the Sacred Pool,
Although throughout the years he had made it clear to be his desire.
Summoning all her strength,
Rowan spat in his face,
Knowing that,
After all her longing to be a warrior,
The Guardian of the Sacred Pool was her destiny and hers alone,
And for the first time in her life she had something to fight for.
She pushed Crow aside with the strength she was unaware she possessed,
Taking them both by surprise,
Then turned and looked him straight in the eye.
And you,
She whispered,
If you do one thing to harm the Sacred Pool,
The villages,
This valley,
Then I swear.
She paused,
And the greyness of the day closed in around them,
The first fluttering flakes of snow falling and whipping away before they were able to touch the frozen ground.
This sharp wind whistled and played in the branches of the willow trees,
Singing a mournful melody as the icy river continued its incessant rushing.
Rowan drew a deep breath.
I swear,
She continued,
By the rocks above us and the water below,
That if you do one thing to harm the Sacred Pool,
The villagers,
This valley,
Then I will kill you.
And she was gone,
Grabbing her basket of herbs and running as swiftly as she could back to Jun and the wounded man,
As if not only her life,
But the lives of all around her depended on it.
Rowan arrived at the entrance to the enclosure gasping for breath,
Her throat aching from the pressure of Crow's hands.
Glancing back towards the river,
She could see no sign of Crow and felt relieved.
If Jun had lit the fire and heated the water,
She could begin her work.
But when Rowan reached the Sacred Pool,
There was no fire,
No Jun,
And no wounded man.
Once again,
It was as if they had vanished into thin air,
And there was no trace of either of them,
Save for one white feather,
Which lay on the grass beside the trickling water,
Moving gently amidst the ever-increasing snowflakes.
