He felt the feathered fletching brush his cheek as he positioned himself for the target, readying to loose the arrow. The bow’s heavy poundage wasn’t a good fit for him.
Father, the burly yet athletic man crouched next to him, quietly encouraged patience with the kill; as the boy’s growing restlessness brewed like the calm before the storm, reverberating in his young bones upon this fine, early misty morning. The boy blinked a glance at the man beside him, then turned his attention back to his target - a large deer frolicking around a clear path of the damp forest. It was always damp at dawn; the moist air felt cold even as it all sat still. Father explained the reason for that, but like most of father’s other explanations of the natural world, it barely made sense to him.
“Steady now,” father said softly, as though he were reciting poetry. “Relax your shoulders.”
His eyes cracked open in the pitch blackness of the early dawn and gasped, catching his breath as he sat up. Raz’s mind swirled back to a memory he had long forgotten. He dared not cry even in the pitch dark of dawn but while he ignored his own distress, Ager’s footfalls came, then stopped to his side of the makeshift bed. The dog whined, then licked Raz’s exposed knee, wondering how on earth Ager could see him so clearly in the dead of night. Thankful, the adolescent boy patted the dog on the head and ruffled his chest as an old habit of his. As much as he resented Ager for what he did yesterday with the honey, he easily forgave the dog because he knew better than to leave him on his own. Having calmed down, Raz leaned back down on the bed made of hay as memories of father flashed before his mind’s eye. Father helping him find the deer, witnessing father serenade mother, then the memory of that fateful day came, and he had to shut his eyes, but it lingered longer than he expected it to. Something in his throat constricted, then a sob escaped him, causing him to place a hand over his mouth in an attempt to stop it. This had happened before, and his insides churned as though they were about to burst open and bleed all over. No, mother wouldn’t like that, he thought. A cold breeze passed through the window and entered the house followed by a howl of the wind. Raz’s feet touched the cold hard ground then tip-toed over to the window without any regard for the darkness. There was no one there.
Mother stirred in her bed, turning to her side and his attention spun over to her.
Returning to his corner of the house as quietly as he could, he took the bear skin from the side of his bed, placing it over him for warmth. Raz brushed the animal skin, reminding himself that this belonged to father, one of the few things left behind in his possession. He reached his hand out into the darkness as though he were offering himself up to Taranis, careful not to step on anything as he made his way to the door.
Once outside, the light of the full moon illuminated his young face then he craned his neck to look up at the source of light and sat on the snow without a care. He remained in this position until his eyes drooped and shut when the whistle of the wind jolted him awake. Ager, whose presence evaded him since he stepped outside - tilted his head and whined.
“Nothing,” Raz said firmly. “Let’s go back inside.”
***
Licks to his face awakened him the next morning and his heart raced, thinking that he had slept in late. To his relief, traces of the moonlight were faint from slits of the door that separated the cold from the warmth of the shack. He checked mother and Cata’s beds, still occupied with the pair still asleep in a deep slumber. His feet landed on the ground, and he put on his gallicae (galoshes) that featured wooden soles and leather uppers. Raz shrugged at the thought of not coming down with a cold after staying out at dawn. He placed a hand on his chest, realizing that he still had the bear skin on, it was no wonder why he felt sweat stream down from the back of his neck.
“Come. Ager.” He said, putting up a hand. “Let’s go outside and get ready.”
The dog accompanied him outside; his paws skipped in excitement for yet another trip to the Roman town.
The wind whipped at his young face as though he poured water over it for a wash. Afterward, he made the walk to the chicken coup just a few feet to the east of the shack to check for eggs and went back to the house with just five. Raz returned outdoors to tend to the cattle and the pigs just as the sunlight touched the grain of the fields, a sign for him to return indoors.
Mother, already awake and dressed for the day prepared the table before she lit three of the firewood that Raz had stacked by the hearth. Their eyes met for a moment with mother holding his gaze, followed by silence. He looked back to see if there someone else stood behind that mother’s eyes were fixated on, but there was no one there. Soon enough, she returned to cooking the left-over pork stew then heated it on the stove. The silence is deafening to Raz while mother pretended that the things she told him the night before were never said. He who flinched when his thoughts were interrupted by the lick of Ager’s tongue on his hand. Once he gained his footing again, he noticed mother’s neck spasm for a second and went about her day, humming a long-forgotten tune. He asked himself, turning away from her and attended to Ager.
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“Let’s get you fed before we get the horse ready.”
The hound wagged his tail and followed Raz. The latter took Ager’s bowl that had dried on the ledge of the window by Cata’s bed, then poured milk from the jug and placed a piece of bread to soak. They went out again, this time stopping by the wagon.
The boy did not wait for his companion to finish breaking his fast, instead, he left the dog on his own to fetch the horse in the stable a few meters west near the gates.
With no time left to reflect on what he witnessed in the house, he focused on leaving as early as possible.
“Calm.”
Brennus - the raven-coated horse blinked as Raz placed a hand on his head and mounted him.
He looked up on the horizon to check for the sun that did not yet rise, prompting him to smirk. They were on time.
Raz dismounts from the horse’s back while Ager patiently awaits his lead. The hound did not delay the travel this time by ruining the goods the boy had stored away.
Placing the leather before attaching the wooden yoke to the horse’s chest and shoulders, Raz feared that the sun would go up earlier than he had expected it to. Once he finished, he attached the shaft that connected the horse to the wagon easily. The boy went over the items that were left over from the local market days before, affirming that everything is ready.
“I’m off,” he told mother once he reached the designated kitchen area in the middle of the house.
Raz met mother’s eyes, a light green from the cold weather.
“Wouldn’t you like to break your fast first?” she asked.
“I can eat while I travel.” Raz replied, voice firm with a hint of uncertainty. “It won’t be a problem.”
It took a while for mother to reply that he had to clear his throat to get her attention.
“I’ve packed your food,” she said. “It’s in your pack.”
“Thank you,”
The things left unsaid brewed underneath the surface, but he kept himself from leaving home in bitterness. Mother offered him his pack that she had woven herself and Raz took it, but before leaving, he went to his side of the shack. He placed the bag on its side by his bed and collected his cloak for the journey. Green, red and yellow were patterned in checks and heavy enough for the coming winter. He placed the rectangular cloak over him and pinned the ends with a brooch over his shoulder. Mother’s hands lovingly wove the cloth and presented it to him as a gift. He thinks of father whose face he could see as clear as day.
“Raz,” mother called. “You best get going.”
He glances at her and nods, determined to return home despite winter drawing closer each day.
Outside, Ager wagged his tail in excitement and Brennus huffed and neighed.
“Wait!” a small voice came.
The door bursts wide with a force strong enough for it to go backwards after a bang on the wall’s surface. Cata’s expression is that of grief, stricken enough to twist her face, there were no tears involved this time of which he is thankful for.
“Let me come with you?” she asks despite it sounding far more like a statement, placing her hands on his arms.
Raz sighs with his eyes closed, glances to Ager and then met his sister’s own green eyes.
“We’ve been through this before,” he replied, peeling her hands away from him. “Mother won’t allow it and neither will I.”
A moment passed between brother and sister.
“Last night was the first time I saw you stand up to mother,” Cata said, looking up at him. “I don’t think you did it for yourself alone, but for me as well.” Her hands fell to her sides.
A shock passed through him; eyes widened in surprise at her words.
“You didn’t do terribly either,” he said, a smile pulling back his lips. “Thank you.”
Cata nodded in understanding.
“I’ll bring you back something if you’d like,” Raz said. “Anything you want.”
She took time to come up with an answer when the light of the sun began to touch the clouds.
“A dog,” Cata said in a whisper.
“A stuffed dog?” he asked. “One that looks like Ager?”
She nodded but did not meet his eyes and it dawned on him that his sister felt she was far too old for such things as a stuffed toy.
Again, silence came between the pair.
“You miss him, don’t you?” she asked, eyes meeting his.
The sun had yet to rise, and as much as he missed their father, he had responsibilities left to him after his wake.
“I have to go,” he said with a hand on her shoulder. “And try not to cause any trouble for mother.”
Raz placed his bag on the wagon that had been covered in animal skins for safe keeping then mounted up the horse.
“Walk with us until we reach the gates?” he asked.
She did as he asked, with silence as their companion. The iron wheels clinked as it went over the small rocks while Ager walked ahead of the party.
“Stay safe, Raz!” a few of the men said, added by. “Come back in one piece!”
He held up a hand, acknowledging their well-wishes. From a distance, he could hear two women within earshot say.
“Poor children, left alone without a father,”
“Why doesn’t Aventia marry again?”
“Who knows.”
Their voices drowned a few moments after he exited the gates. Once again, Raz looked over to the horizon, the sun having risen from its slumber then turned back to watch the gates close and Cata’s small figure disappears from view.
