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Seaimpin de na Sailetheach Gorm

Peigra

Seaimpin de na Sailetheach Gorm

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Peigra's Blog

March 29th, 2024

Fields of Gold, pt 4

In the annals of weather and its related fields, of county history and FEMA reports that would be gathered in the aftermath, it was simply what would be classified as an F4 tornado.

It touched down just outside of the small town, riding currents of its own making and self destruction over time, reaching down with jealous fingers to the soft soil beneath it and becoming black as its nourishing warmth and density. Fingerling and gypsy dancer showing its length of skirt and parts dreamt of, twining the skies into a mass of green-gray sludge of moisture and wind, there were few who saw its beginnings save those who were wearily looking to the clouds with growing fear and watching the break in the silence.

Silence broken, destruction unleashed.

Fingerling to rope to fleeing for one's life, there would be little that stood before it. Rampant child unleashed for a finite moment of life and time to display itself in a tantrum of sound and rage and wind.

An F4 tornado, born of the wind and moisture...

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March 29th, 2024

Fields of Gold, pt 3

"...I'm sorry if that's unsatisfactory, but it's the policy of our company to keep within the stated guidelines of the contract that you signed. It's not within our guidelines nor within our power to keep the market's ups and downs in your favor as far as investments..."

Margaret paused, listening to the client and Garrison, via speaker phone, and frowning despite the earliness of the day and all that needed to be done.

It wasn't the firm's fault that the market had taken a dive the day before due to projected earnings being less than forecast, and Margaret herself had seen overnight successes and afternoon bankruptcies, but the market was unpredictable. You hoped it would go up, forecast that it would go up, and made the best of a mess when it went down.

For some reason, though, Margaret had no desire to speak to her client, a newer one who was just learning that the market required firm backing and that the days of J.P. Morgan were gone. If he had invested his savings, that had been his concern...

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March 29th, 2024

Fields of Gold, pt 2

"She got a what?"

Perhaps it was the grinding gears of the trailers and trucks milling about like chickens (dammed things) and unloading of the horses and all their tack that Margaret hadn't heard Allen the first time. And she made a note to get that niece of Allen's, or whomever claimed her as kith and kin, to start keeping the chickens in line.

Four days of feeding them on a regular basis should have instructed them to keep themselves in one area of the property.

But, no...they had a tendency to roam, to find her best shoes sitting out on the porch at night where she'd neglected to bring them in after sitting on the hanging rocker, discussing figures with Garrison once again into the wee hours of what was eastern time, and barely smoking hour here at Emily's property. Margaret hadn't meant to sit for so long, or to be discussing quotes for the morning's round of represented clients and stare down at her bare foot (when had she taken her shoes off?) and to find herself irked that she had stopped pushing herself gently against the porch railing and was swinging in the light breeze...

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March 29th, 2024

Fields of Gold

This is an old, old story, a first attempt at combining a love of writing & a love of storms together, & it's over 20 years old now & copyrighted, & it's time it was dusted off & shared again
This story is based on a piece of land hubby & I were looking at buying, & sadly had to pass when we were transferred out of KS. The day we saw the land, all 120 acres, a storm blew up, & the "city slicker realtor" who we'd been assigned to started to freak that tornadoes wouldn't be far off (which she was wrong)



It was the whisper that woke Margaret again, the whisper of leather against leather, slick mud trying to grapple with hooves and the power of muscle and skin overcoming the chill of both mud and morning's coming.

Margaret was city-folk, nothing more in her eyes but the splendor of the city she had left behind for a month's long stay at the abandoned house of her recently dead great-aunt. She had no allusions to the farm that had long been spoken of, but she refused to set foot upon...

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March 29th, 2024

Calton's Shadow, Pt 11

“You might as well go,” Rira had told her. “What is here for you to do now? They will be in one spot until your ankle heals.”

“You’re sending me away?”

“You will be taking the young ones with you, who are going there at the same time.” Rira had kissed Peigra’s braids and ignored a deep, frustrated sigh from her companion.

Two weeks from when she had taken the fall, Peigra had been informed by Rira that Gar wanted her with his clan, immediately, as soon as Baltik could safely carry her there. Why he was changing the time when he wanted Peigra with him, and why Rira was so accomodating, was never established, but Peigra had little choice. Bedridden, and bored completely, there was little choice but to agree to it.

She had read every scroll, book and message that she had been able to get her hands on, and had taken some of the duties of teaching the children to read, and that had been the first three days. It had not taken long for total boredom to seize her and she tried, tried hard not to be a burden, but it was personally disgraceful for her to have to ask to be carried to the elderlies, out to the rock, to see Baltik, and Rira had threatened to keep her asleep for moons when she had found Peigra crawling out of the tent one afternoon during the nap...

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March 29th, 2024

Calton's Shadow, Pt 10

No matter how many times she had seen one, it was always the first time, with the same terror slowly, claw by claw, crawling up her throat and clutching at her windpipe.

It always began the same, an odd, hissing noise that slowly began to swirl, a reverse drainage that was oddly beautiful to watch as it sat, gathering its strength, its forces, and gave time for those below to scatter in terror of their own. One could see an odd stippling, rainbow-like and quite beautiful, and mesmerizing also; Peigra had seen people captivated for hours by simply watching them, going from pre-rift to pre-rift just to watch the show despite the danger and what would be unleashed after it became something less beautiful.

Only those within the rift knew how long it would be until they had gathered themselves in enough strength to punch through into Telara and attempt their foothold. Forces normally started gathering the moment the hissing noise was heard, or the pre-rift sighted, and could wait sometimes a day before it opened itself and its nightmares became reality...

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March 29th, 2024

Calton's Shadow, Pt 9

“You were not here yesterday,” was repeated over and over again, and Peigra tried to pat each head that wailed at her, standing knee-deep in the water as she passed out kisses to soothe them. The complaints were getting more and more prominent, but there was little she could do.

In the two months since her strange acceptance into something deeper than her previous time, in the Before, with the clan, Peigra had treated, tried, talked and probably slept with everyone save the babies who were still inside their mothers, waiting to be born. She had seen to the broken bones, the sprains, mediated several matters with the hunters of her clan and the neighboring one over rights to a large kill, and Rira had kept quiet about most things, allowing Peigra to try her best.

Most mornings were spent in a frantic splashing now, as her time was becoming limited with the children and teaching them to swim despite her insistence they needed to learn. Many of the adults were also coming down, and the pregnant women were enjoying the water as they sat, the cooler water soothing some of their aches and the buoyancy a delight on their backs...

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March 29th, 2024

Calton's Shadow, Pt 8

She should have known, seen it coming, gotten an inkling of doubt when Temur had sent her, but she had been too wounded from the encounter on the farm, too bored from Meridian’s constraints, to see the warning signs.

There had been plenty before she had left Meridian.
There were many more in the time that followed her arrival at the clan.

It began before sunup, when she and Rira would rise, and go sit on the rock, waiting for the sun to rise. In an old, odd habit, Peigra had woken the second morning with some dried whiteroot on her mind, so she had found some in Rira’s stores and taken it out with her. Rira had her staff, Peigra had her handful of herbs, cradled in the swathes of linen that she was still wrapped in. It was the first of many odd stares in the mornings, one that many got used to quickly, seeing Rira and Peigra together, working in odd harmony together, as if they had done so in the past.

Knowing they had made it easier for the clan to accept, but it did not make it universal...

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March 29th, 2024

Calton's Shadow, Pt 7

Baltik had never been one to pass an opportunity to show himself off, whether Before or Now, and Now was certainly no exception.

Peigra did not remember much of leading all the mounts to the tie poles, the children in awe of the great black beast in the middle of them, or the meal and sleeping. She did not remember much but Genda’s roar as he and Rira collided, and Soir was on the other side, the three crashing together in a motley of arms, shouts and incoherent laughter and words.

Baltik, tired as he was, rested while Peigra spoke of the journey and settled her saddlebags beside her so they would not get lost, until one of the guest tents was designated to her. While Peigra talked, ate and continued to exhaust herself, Baltik was rested, fed, and brushed, the latter being relative as the children could barely reach past his knees. He accomodated them by going down to the very sands they were trying to clean off of him, and they crawled all over him with delight and slid down the other side of his back...

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March 29th, 2024

Calton's Shadow, Pt 6

The desert, at night, was a beautiful, endless thing of both beauty and danger, and Peigra tried not to keep their pace slowed to marvel at it all.

Her time with Rira’s clan had been along the water, in a cove that had gotten sun in the morning and late afternoon, blocked by a high ridge of stone that jutted high into the skies above the settlement, and kept them, for the most part, shaded and a bit cooler than the surrounding areas. Certainly during the heat of the day, it was preferable to be in the shade than the sun.

The nap had done Peigra some good, and she had eaten a good meal, as had the others. With any waystation, even a cave for what it was, there were supplies that could be taken, and every traveler left something if they had it to spare. Rope, boots, firewood, extra bags, anything was left for someone else’s benefit, but the necessities were always used and replenished. Despite the heat, some of the men went back towards the river, and brought back some wood that would dry in the desert’s heat quickly, and be ready for the next group...

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March 29th, 2024

Calton's Shadow, Pt 5

The fish was even better in the morning, lightly moistened with a bit of tea, and scraped with her belt knife off the plate.

Baltik had tried a nibble, and had smacked his lips at it and smacked his head against Peigra’s shoulder for trying to poison him, in his opinion, as she grinned. Despite her want to go bareback, as it would be a bit more comfortable, she set the saddle back on Baltik’s wide back and hung the saddlebags, with a bit of difficulty. How had she gotten onto him in the Before; she had not remembered him this high, and he was still a gangly two year old, not even old enough to be going through what she was making him endure.

He did not object, and butted his great head against her back when she faltered putting the saddle back on, and she shrugged. He knew better than she did her tolerances, and she led him to the stone step beneath the overhang, and with a leap, crawled up onto him. She ignored the laughter as she lay, in the saddle, arms and legs dangling, and shimmied herself up onto him, swinging her legs and then finally twisting, upright, and settling herself as she needed to be...

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March 29th, 2024

Calton's Shadow, Pt 4

By day’s end, Peigra had acquired quite a bit of coin, and some great accolades, and laughter.

Baltik had been rested by his day in the stables, and stared at by anyone who came by and got hissed at, startled in their travels by the massive black beast that stuck its head out, warning people away from his territory. She was warned that if, or when, she returned to Meridian that she would have to pay for a larger stall for him, as the stablemaster was concerned for the other horses being nipped, or his stalls damaged by Baltik’s restlessness.

Peigra had only grinned, and attempted, again, to saddle Baltik.

Generous as he had been in the Before, the Baltik of now was much more limber, and settled himself down on the fodder in his stall, allowing her to set the saddle on. She would have been happier without it, but she was being taken to the drier lands, and that meant taking personal items with her for her own safety. Extra bags of herbs, small and compressed, against snakebite, scorpions, and other crawlie things that she knew would not harm her, but that did not mean others might not suffer along their route...

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March 29th, 2024

Calton's Shadow, Pt 3

The moment of reuniting with Baltik in a younger, stronger body had become a shattered moment of peace, when Berdel had roared on the other side of the fence. “Off! Off this farm! Now!”

Purda had looked at her son, startled, and Caralin’s finger had gone into her mouth, sucking it out of comfort as she hid herself beneath Purda’s skirts, only a tiny boot sticking out from beneath one hemline.

Astride Baltik, Peigra had stared at the man who had adopted her, who had been the only father she had known in her time on the farm, and sighed. They had warned her, in Meridian, because that was why it had been built, to not only show strength for those on “this side”, but to shelter and clothe and house those who had come back.

It was a place, now, to hide in as well.

Peigra had been warned that there was no going back to what had been, that her Bloodline had been informed she was dead, and that was how most families needed to be left. Those few, on both sides, who still had relations alive were in the quandary of wanting to reconnect with what they had lost, to refresh old allegiances and have some grounding to all that haunted their thoughts every breathing moment...

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March 29th, 2024

Calton's Shadow, Pt 2

It felt good to be alone.

The familiar scents of horse and manure and dried hay had filled her lungs when she had snuck out early, earlier than even the apprentices, who had been startled to find her in the guest barn, seeing to the gelding who had suffered in the rain to bring her home. He had been well tended, and she was grateful someone else had done so, and enabled her to reunite with her family.

The bread had been rising, and she had put it into the oven to bake, and was cautious to stay near the farmhouse so it would not burn. She had never been a good cook when it came to bread, and there had been many accidents when it had been her turn to tend to the bread. She tried, truly tried, and took it out a bit early, but it had not burned, which was her intent, and her grateful sigh that echoed in the silence of the kitchen.

Beyond the guest barns, mostly full now that there was light to be thrown in by opening the end doors and some of the windows, were the fields, and Peigra walked out to them slowly, stopping every few steps to smell it all...

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March 29th, 2024

Calton's Shadow

The driving rain made it difficult to see, but after so many years of plodding the path, her feet knew the way instinctively.
With so many thick, ravaging snows that came up suddenly when the seasons changed and the barn filled with livestock to both farm and feed, and bandits always a threat, children learned very young where to hide, and exactly how many steps it was from hearth to barn and back again, and all the landmarks between.
The thick wool was not keeping much of the cold out, but the oiled leather was effective against the rain, coming against her back now. The horse would be grateful for shelter, any shelter, and soon, she would need to be thinking of the same, and warmth.
The door closed behind, and it was exactly fifteen steps to the door that slid back on the wood slats that had been grooved for easier sliding when the wood swelled in the winter. Five steps across the slate that marked where one was supposed to stamp their boots, keeping the mud and the dust out of the barn, and the door closed behind to keep the heat in...

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