Barbarian

Chapter X

I push open the door to the hut just enough for a sliver of light to peek through. I place my eye to the crack and look up at the sky. The sun is almost at its peak. Tyrone is expecting me in the horse pasture soon.

It has been three days since Garrick’s and my meeting with Callen. Although I know what I saw, I have to agree with Callen. All good leaders would have made the same decision as he. He has done what he thought best for his people. What more could anyone ask for? Besides, just because Garrick is anxious and nervous about what I saw, it does not mean that anything bad will come of it. For all we know, the Romans could have been negotiating with the Rogues to leave the Brigantes alone. 

At least it gives me a less embarrassing reason to avoid Garrick. I cannot help but be a little hurt that he would not let me see Dalla and Ailis when I was recovering, but suddenly cares nothing for my health when something that he claims to be important comes up. On one hand, I cannot blame him. His village comes before me. And rightly so. We barely know each other. 

Yet, I cannot seem to let myself fully forgive him for what he did. With all his talk of protecting women and caring for them, one would think that he would at least follow his own convictions. Plus, I thought that there had been a connection in the tent back in the Rogue’s camp. I felt something pass between us. We had almost embraced! 

It has not been easy trying to stay out of his way. I try to stay in groups with Dalla and Ailis. I also try to keep Tyrone nearby as they do not seem to get along perfectly well. Whenever someone asks about my suspicious behavior. I tell them the truth...partially: I am avoiding Garrick, but only because seeing him makes me worry and get nervous about what I saw. I am not perceived as being strong here in this village. I think my excuse is being believed. 

I take a deep breath, trying to calm the huffs and puffs that my breathing has become.  Pulling on my boots, I tie my hair back with a ribbon before exiting the small hut that has been Dalla’s, Ailis’, and my home for the past few days. Tucked into a small corner of the village centre, it is close enough to the meeting place that we do not to have to walk a large distance, but it is out of the way enough that most villagers do not have an excuse to come up and disturb us. Not that we mind, but after being interrogated with the same questions by every villager we come across, it is nice to simply settle down and get used to this new home. 

Callen has been very kind to us in regards to our accommodations. The wattle and daub home is well-built and the thatched roof is clean and waterproof as has been tested by the few downpours we have experienced since living here. The inside is very comfortable as well. Three cots for us girls round the the right side of the room and a table and two chairs dominate the center, beside the fireplace. The left wall holds all our supplies and possessions. One small window east, but with houses on either side of us, there is no way to make any use of the window for both time-telling and light. 

Walking out into the village centre, I watch the group of young warriors mock fighting near the barracks. I spot Brogan twisting and turning in a sort of dance, his sword clashing with another as the two men have it out at each other. His leine is cast aside and his trousers are soaked through with sweat. 

It has been a few days since I have last seen him out with the rest of the men, practicing. Callen told him as soon as he could of the alleged Roman sighting, and Brogan sided with Garrick. The anxiety has been eating at him until Ailis said that training would be more helpful as it would prepare him should anything happen. Callen was not very pleased with her for encouraging his worry, but seeing Brogan finally doing what he loves, it is obvious that his mind is no longer on the Romans but on the task at hand. The lines of worry etched into his face has eased and his mouth is less rigid.