Tales of Eric of Sormac

Eric was suffocating. The waves of the Great River Corrib kept pulling him under. Try as he might he could not get his bearings under the heavy waves. Every moment he came up for air lasted seconds before another cold wave dragged him back to the stony bottom.

He prayed that someone would hear him, see him, anything to get him out of this freezing hell. The rapids became harsher, throwing Eric back and forth until he struck his head on a jagged rock. Darkness was his only companion.

A slow awareness crept back into Eric's body. A small sense of a conscious thought. A sharp breath of air in his lungs. Warm, heavy furs were draped across his torso. A quiet voice. There was no hostility from the gentle tones, just a calming urge to rest more.

Sometime later, Eric awoke to a soothing light. It annoyed him at first, for he wanted to fall back into his quiet dreams, yet the light would not let him. Blinking back the sleep, Eric gazed up at a green ceiling, No the ceiling wasn't green. It was faded straw that had turned a dull brown from the mud and clay that it was pressed into. The green was actually a light that blanketed the room. He rose into a sitting position, his muscles weak from not moving for who knew how long. To his left hung a clear glass jar, filled with tiny lightening bugs. They lazily floated around the jar, their combined brightness allowing him to see most of the room.

It was a structured hut that reminded him of the longhouse he and his mother grew up in. The embers of a long put out fire still clung to the hearth. He could faintly smell roasted meat and his stomach gave a groan in protest. He thanked whatever spirit that was watching out for him, that he was out of that blasted river. Yet, he couldn't help but wonder if this new place was home to friend or foe.

A soft scuffle of feet was heard behind a closed door across from and to the right. It opened to reveal a maiden. She was petite in body but had a good height to her. Her pallor looked a bit sickly. Not as if she were suffering from an illness but from the shallowness of her cheeks, she was most likely hungry. Light colored hair pulled back into a bun at the base of her neck, a few hairs framed her face. As she came closer, he could see sun kissed freckles spattered across her nose. She looked up to meet Eric's gaze, surprised he had raised himself and was alert. She offered a shaky smile and offered a small hello.

"I see your awake now. You scared my youngest something fierce. He thought he had come across a dead body washed ashore. Came running to me when he heard you moan. How're you feeling? Any aches, pains, or bruises I didn’t catch?"

Eric was at a lost for words for the woman had two colored eyes. One blue, one hazel. Was she a witch, waiting to harvest his organs and bones for evil rituals? Was she a seer with future sight come to proclaim an unwanted death? Was she an evil spirit that wanted to take his soul for all eternity?

The witch maiden laughed at his speechlessness. "Did you hit your head harder than we thought? Or are you mute? Were you struck dumb from the river ride?"

Eric startled at the insults and a stony expression set upon his brow. "Neh, I can talk. Who're you and where am I? Are ye a witch? Only those that worship the blackest evil have two colored eyes. Said to be the sign of the pact you've made with Evil!"

An indignant scowl marred the maiden's face. Crossing her arms defensively, she looked at the bed ridden man. "No I'm not a witch, nor do I converse with the unholiest of the there-after. I'm the Lady of this house, Ailis Delany. Late warrior to Clan Delany, current mother of three, widow of Ronan the Bear and am currently playing nurse maid to your bed ridden arse. Got anythin' else to sling in my face you scum guzzling milk drinker?"

With each title and insult, she stepped closer and he shrank down into the bedding. If he had learned one thing as a child, don't keep poking a hornet's nest once they're already mad at you. If there was something worse than an angry hornet, it was an angry Lady warrior with youngins. "No Lady Delany. My apologies to you and your house. Thank you for welcoming this poor soul unto your hearth and may the gods bless ye and your kindness."

Ailis scoffed at the man backtracking on his words. "Well now, no need to be so formal mister no-name. Just mind your manners and I won't toss ya out into the muck. We have an understandin?" Eric nodded quickly. Anything to get the anger out of her eyes. "My apologies Lady Ailis. I am Eric Wathe of Sormac. I was traveling with other hunters in the area before we were set upon by bandits and thieves. The Norns must not have been smiling on me that day for the earth crumbled beneath me and I fell into the mighty river. Have you heard of a party searching for a lost man resembling me?"

Ailis looked thoughtful for a moment. "No, I've not heard of any hunter packs wandering down here. There was a man found about two leagues southwest of here. He wore the bandit garb known to the ousted clan of Mackinnon. I don't think that's who you ment."

Eric sighed, finally resting fully on the bed again. "No I don't think so. Ousted Clan Mackinnon? Haven't heard of them. Have they been giving the area trouble?"

Ailis sat down in the chair closet to the hearth, trying to rekindle another flame in the cooling night air. "Ay. Rafferty Mackinnon, the scourge of his clan. He got into a skirmish with a neighboring Lord and thought he could put old man Flannigan in his place. He ended up raisin Flannigan’s family barn to the ground. Killed off most of his livestock. Thing is Old man Flannigan was a brute of man back in his day. He garnered a lot of respect with the old crowd and some of the nobility. Once they heard what that lad óg did, they went after his father, the current Lord Cillian Mackinnon.

When Cillian heard that a bunch of roughnecks were coming after his whole clan thanks to his youngest, he renounced his son's claim to Clan Mackinnon and begged for Flannigan's mercy. Rafferty felt that his punishment was unjust and humiliating. After being rejected many a time by his father and kinsman, he vowed vengeance. He started a group of raiders that steal, pillage and kill anything they can get their hands on. He's been a thorn in the sides of many but his numbers are so strong that no one can put the braggart down."

Eric stared at the green light coming from the bugs' jars. it sounded like this Rafferty was not someone he wanted to mess with in his current condition. Best to lay low for now in case this gang turned out to be the ones that attacked him. He wasn't particularly fond of the idea of being skewered like a rack of lamb. "Begging your pardon lady, I know what you've done for me is worth your weight in silver but could I trouble you for another favor? I'm going to be needin this bed a bit longer till I'm back to strength. May I indulge upon your hospitality some more?"

Ailis looked at Eric, hand upon her chin, wondering if she would regret her decision. "Alright. But be forewarned, you'll have three hellions scaring you in the morning. You may have to watch them from time to time while I'm doing chores. Other than that you're welcome to stay. Breakfast will be a bit late. Dagda knows I'll be dreaming well after sunrise. Sleep well Eric, may your dreams be easy."

"Good night Lady Ailis. May the Norns protect you in your slumber," whispered Eric as Ailis went back to what he assumed were her rooms. Rolling to his side, he let the gentle green light of the lightening bugs lull him to sleep.