Page 5
He added, as if talking himself into it, “Twill be quiet. Safe. A place tae heal, but farther…”
“Okay, fine, farther it is, we are decided, you need a safe place to heal and how far can it be?” I gestured toward it. “I can see it right there.”
He said, “Good, we will be there by sundown. Twill be a good place tae pray as well. We might need that most of all…”
I took a long deep breath, then patted Cathbarr’s neck. “Alright, here we go.”
We turned off the high path, picking our way down a slope toward the loch’s edge.
It took about forty-five minutes. The rain eased a little as we descended, but the wind off the water cut sharp. Torin’s weight grew heavy against me again, and I could feel the heat of a fever starting to build.
I was pretty useless at reading the land. I was willing us to get to the priory, but that was more like a silent prayer. Yet by some means we made it to a rocky and wild shore, and somehow Torin managed enough awareness to guide us to a shallow crossing point where the loch narrowed near its mouth.
“How do we cross?”
Torin mumbled, “We need the ferryman.”
Great.
How would that happen?
There was a small hut near the shore, and Torin weakly called, “…all hail…”
He nudged me, “Call it.”
I said, loudly, “All hail!” Then again, “All HAIL!”
An old ferryman emerged. His back bent, a shuffle to his gait. He did not instill me with confidence that he could navigate us across the river.
I imagined though that we looked pretty weak and bedraggled too.
Was it safe to cross when I was the only one who looked strong enough to drive the boat?
“Ye look like ye’ve been at battle, ye were in the fight at Dunstaffnage?”
“Nae…”
“Ye fightin’ the devil himself then?”
Torin tugged at his ear then muttered, “…close enough… need tae cross tae the priory…”
The man grunted, “The weather is dreich, I winna cross this day.”
Torin said, “I hae a coin, but if ye daena want it we will ford on our horse, we daena mind the swim, we are wet through already.”
The man looked across the river as if calculating the trouble.
Torin whispered, “I am going tae dismount.” He grunted as he swung his legs around and dropped his feet to the ground on the side away from the ferryman.
He clung to my thigh for a moment, steadying himself, his eyes closed.
I saw him swallow and grimace. Then he gained enough strength, held onto the bridle, and with a slow determined pace walked around Cathbarr to stand in front of the ferryman.
He passed him a coin and it was enough to make the man become helpful. He walked us to the ferry, and helped me steady Torin as we boarded the small, sturdy boat.
Torin spoke to Cathbarr in Gaelic, and the horse followed alongside the boat as if this were normal. The water came up to the horse’s thighs, finally he lowered himself down and began to swim.
Dude yowled indignantly from his pack the whole way.
