Morg

Chapter 5

They will be proud again, she thought fiercely, and she aimed a kick at the ram, who jumped nimbly out of the way with a swift flick of his heels.

     "May the goddess Alos bless the hunt, eh?" shouted Olwig back to Morg.

     As Olwig said this, as she had said a hundred times, Morg had an idea. The goddess might bless the hunt. She might bless Morg too. She might lift the ill wishes Morg had so foolishly let loose. Morg herded the sheep through the heavy gate to the fort. She was deep in thought.

     The ground sloped steeply down from the gate and the way was treacherous. She had to watch where she stepped to avoid losing her footing. The tribe kept the path rough to deter any unwelcome visitors. The sheep skipped down lightly. They knew their way to the recently harvested field. They would find food for themselves, and fertilise the field for next season's planting at the same time.

     "Olwig?" wheedled Morg, when the sheep were grazing and settled. Olwig knew this voice and she was not happy.

     "What?"

     "I am your friend, am I not?"

     Olwig was wary, but she nodded.

     "Would you do something for me? For me, your friend. I would be forever in your debt." Morg bowed humbly to her. Olwig sighed.

     "What?"

     "I need to go. I need you to look after the sheep."

     "Alone?" Olwig was surprised.

     "I will come back soon."

     "Where are you going?"

     "I need to go to the grove." Olwig's eyes widened. To go to the sacred grove alone was a fearsome prospect.

     "What will you offer to the goddess?" she asked, at last.