The Seeds of Heimdall by Martin J Bird

Author:Martin J Bird [Martin Bird]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Martin Bird
Published: 2022-04-19T00:00:00+00:00

13

Disaster

Vale of the Upper Sionainne

The pained look on Ruadhri’s face was almost as irritating as the tone of his voice. “I’m tired,” he whined. “Why can’t we just stay in Cruachan?”

Going beyond the royal enclosures towards Moylurg wasn’t the most sensible plan while accompanied by the boy. His repeated whinges had begun to grate hours before while they were picking their way through the treacherous peatlands.

Ruairí’s own motivation, dare he admit it, was also wearing thin. Playing nursemaid to the royal household filled him with a feeling of claustrophobia. What was worse was the alternative. While away from Duncarrow, he could usually blot out the daemons in his mind. But Ruadhri’s regular complaints were like the haul of a shepherd’s crook, turning his thoughts back to the place he reluctantly again called home.

In the years since his departure, Duncarrow had fallen into decay. Although not inevitable, its decline had been likely, and his parents had argued long about it before leaving. He hadn’t enough life experience to know at the time, and, in any event, the excitement of change couldn’t be denied. Ultimately, his stepfather had no choice and couldn’t influence what happened afterwards. Duncarrow became lost to sight, even if not entirely out of mind.

So, amid the relief of their unlikely victory years before, the light they’d brought to the settlement dimmed. Even as the door to their old longhouse closed, the dust of decay began to settle, lying undisturbed by the industry of busy households. Physical dilapidation followed behind a more insidious and unseen force. The spirit of the community withered beneath a cloying sense of abandonment. Of course, a replacement priest arrived in due time. Unfortunately, like Rannal’s predecessor, he lacked the generosity of mind and practical skill to meet the challenge.

Going back had been a mistake. Ruairí knew it now, though, at the time, it was impossible to understand the pitfalls of regression through the noise of encouragement by peers. Ó Connor had arranged for him to have tenure over the church lands and gave him a role in the royal household. “What could go wrong?” they asked. What indeed, when everywhere lay reminders of the humble past he’d outgrown. He felt trapped the moment he arrived. All was drab, and disappointment lingered like the weight of a winter ague.

The years when his star had risen at Clonmacnoise bore witness to many inhabitants passing on in Duncarrow. Sadly, he found those he remembered bowed by struggle and age. But worse than his own feelings were the sideways glances he received filled with resentment. What right had he to lord it over them? Who was he? Merely the son of a shunned thief. An upstart returned to the place he’d deserted; a stranger graced by the king’s favour. Worse still, Cathal mac Conchobar was a king who had once used the village in his ascendancy and barely acknowledged its inhabitants since. There was no welcome for Ruairí. A lingering atmosphere of antipathy, motivated by self-pity, now created a sullen backdrop to his current struggles.

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