PREVIEW: MAMM OF PERTH

Dedicated to all who

never gave up

and never gave in. 

Thank you.

Mamm of Perth

Introduction

The Long Dark of 487 AD has come on Dunnottar and it is the storying time.

In the fall just past, two from Dunnottar were taken in battle, Sidhelagh and Danann; they are sorely missed. Although all others have survived, they have all been soul-wounded – some more deeply than others.

In the deep quiet of this long dark, healing begins.

Within these pages we walk with the survivors on Dunnottar their collective and individual journeys.

We visit with them as they work at their daily tasks.

We meet new characters.

One, TavishUllin, Druid and Bard, comes to stay for a while. He brings with him the Queen Harp.

The Younglings of Dunnottar begin to assert themselves and make their presence known in no uncertain terms. We already know the eldest of them, Merri. She is joined by her little brother Dothann and their first cousin Brann; there are also Diann, Corrbed, and little red-headed Rua, kin cousins who as fosterlings from afar have come to be educated and protected on Dunnottar.

'Sass’ soldier’ is the sole survivor of the attackers in the battle which took Danann and Sidhelagh from Dunnottar. First speared then saved by Sass, he remains silent always, even as he regains his strength.

We listen in as Mamm begins the story of her heirloom under-bed chest and we go further back in time to meet the ones 

with whom this story begins.

We meet Danann and Mamm of Perth, the great-grandparents of Mamm of Dunnottar, who tells their story. We meet their daughters Alianora, MammTwo, and the twins Sass and Saille. We join them in the lives they lead, the history they create, and the legacy they live and die to preserve for those who will follow. More important than the under-bed chest heirloom is the Song of the Holy Trinity.

NOTE: For those with the early edition of this book, Sass of Dunnottar and Dianann are the same Character; Kalann is Alann; Caileen is Ostara. Of course, if you've already read the book you'll know this; if you're just now getting that edition, you'll quickly figure it out ... :) 

AND SO LET US BEGIN. 

November 487 AD

AS THE NIGHTS begin to lengthen and the days to chill, out from under the beds come the chests of warm woolens to exchange places with the warm weather clothes on the wall pegs. Sandals are put aside to be replaced with warm leather shoes and fur-lined boots. Even the white linen ceremonial cloaks are carefully folded into the seasonal chests and the white woolens are brought out to air and straighten. 

Merri is helping Mamm fold the freshly washed summer linens, carefully stacking them into Mamm’s ancient under-bed chest.

‘Hey Mamm, how long have you had this chest?’

‘Well now, I’ve had this since before I was a bride. I got it from my mother who got it from her mother who got it from her mother.  It’s very old.’

Merri laughs.

‘Mamm, YOU are very old! I can’t even imagine back as far as your mother’s mother’s mother!’

Mamm grins and agrees.

‘I know! I can’t imagine it, either! If it weren’t for the stories my mother and her mother told me, it would seem as though this chest had existed for always!’

‘What stories? You know I love stories, Mamm. Will you tell me those stories?’

‘Indeed I will, but not right this very minute. Maybe tonight after we’ve gotten all this stuff put away and the cold weather things settled where they belong I’ll search my memory and see what’s in there for you.’

Throughout the day Merri spreads the word among the younglings that Mamm is going to Story tonight IF they all pitch in so the switchover gets done fast AND well. 

And so the day goes by and the changing-out job gets done, as well as all of the other daily chores that the younglings have.   

Everyone gathers in the roundhouse at sunset. 

Kalann has been cooking again so the meal is a feast that everyone does full justice to and Kalann grins as the hungry faces become relaxed and content. 

The younglings jump to volunteer with clean-up and hustle their way through it as the big ones watch with laughter in their eyes. 

They know what’s motivating the younglings and are pleased. 

Finally Mamm settles herself in front of the south fireplace with Caileen and Aine close by wrapped in their winter plaids. 

This storying time is as important to them as to the younglings; the two of them are carrying young until the spring birthing time. They want their infants to begin learning right away and what better way to begin their educations than by hearing the stories as early as possible? 

Besides, Caileen and Aine are tired from the busy day. They’re stitching baby blankets from some of Alianora's finest woven cloth and resting while Mamm settles in for the evening with the younglings scrambling for places at her feet.

Mamm looks into the fire and her face grows kind of solemn and still as everyone quiets down, waiting for her to begin. 

Only she doesn’t begin.

As she stares at the fire tears begin to trickle down her cheeks but she doesn’t wipe them away, just keeps staring at the fire. 

Merri finally creeps up to Mamm and gently puts her arm around her shoulders and Mamm turns her face into Merri’s shoulder and weeps. 

Uncertain about this unexpected turn of events, Merri looks to Alianora with questions and concern in her eyes. Alianora comes quickly to her side and holds Mamm and Merri together in the circle of her arms.

The whole roundhouse is silent while Mamm weeps. 

At long last she raises her face and gives a sad little smile.

‘Not all stories are happy ones,’ she says quietly. ‘Do you want to hear the story of my under-bed chest?’

Everyone nods. 

‘Are you sure? Because part of it is pretty sad and is very hard for me to tell, so I want to be sure you really want to hear it.’

Alianora looks around at everyone and then tells Mamm, ‘Yes.  We’re sure. But you don’t have to tell it if it makes you sad.’

‘It DOES make me sad,’ says Mamm, ‘but it’s worth telling, so yes I will tell it.’

And so Mamm begins the story of her under-bed chest, the one she got from her mother who got it from her mother who got it from her mother.

           

A very long time ago there lived an oak tree of great age. It was part of the very Grove within which we celebrate here on Dunnottar.  Even then the Grove was ancient. 

    Our family did not live here back then but further inland where lie the big cropping fields, great herding pastures, and forests of immensity.  My people came twice a year to this place, for the Spring and Fall Blessings, just as some still do, although not as many as then, and they don’t come as far as people did in those days. 

     And so my mother’s mother’s mother came to this very Grove one year for the Fall Blessing and there was a great storm. 

     Some of the ancient trees lost limbs and Mamm, who was my mother’s mother’s mother, chose a piece of one of the limbs of the most ancient of oaks in the Grove to make herself an under-bed chest to use when she became a bride.

Even though she had yet to meet anyone she wanted to wed, Mamm knew that one day that time would come and she wanted THIS piece of wood to become her under-bed chest. 

The younglings stir restlessly at this bit of news.

‘But … but … YOU’RE Mamm!’

‘Indeed I am, but I am not the FIRST Mamm ever in the world, you know, any more than any of you are the first Merri, or the first Dothann, or the first Brann, or the first Diann, or the first Corrbed, or the first Rua, or the first of ANY name. My mother’s name was Mamm, and so was her mother’s and so was HER mother’s – and since it is with that one with which we begin our story, we shall call her Mamm of Perth, as that was her home. That way we can tell them apart.’

The younglings nod in understanding and settle back down, crowding a little closer to Mamm’s feet as they do.

Now, Mamm of Perth took her time designing and building this under-bed chest, and prayed to the Trinity as she worked on it so it would turn out just exactly right.

She built it strong and true, as she wanted to be strong and true when she became a bride.

She carved the designs with loving attention into beautiful patterns, as she wanted to be loving and attentive and beautiful when she became a bride.

She organized the inside carefully and thoughtfully into the most efficient use of the space that she could devise, as she wanted to be organized and careful and thoughtful and efficient when she became a bride.

She made the top to fit just exactly right, as she wanted to be sure that she would be just exactly right for the man whom she would wed, and he for her.

And so the piece of wood, from this very Grove here on Dunnottar, made its way inland and became a very beautiful under-bed chest for Mamm of Perth.

Little red-headed Rua pipes up, ‘Oh Mamm, that’s WONDERFUL! It’s not sad at all! I thought this was gonna be a sad story.’

And Mamm smiles at the rambunctious youngling who is by this time almost wrapped around her leg.

‘Well, you know, not ALL of the parts of a sad story have to be sad!’

‘Oh.  Well, I’m glad it’s not sad yet.’

And Mamm gives Rua’s curly red head a pat as she continues.

            It wasn’t long after she finished the under-bed chest that Mamm met the man she was to wed. Both of them knew at once that it was together they would be, the two of them, and so it happened.

     His name was Danann.

At this, everyone in the roundhouse is startled and there are gasps. 

Mamm doesn’t blink an eye at the reactions of them all and simply watches the fire again for a moment.

‘Where do you think our names come from? From things around us like plants or animals or places, and from those who came before us. We use old names all the time in new ways. Among our family are names older than anyone here can tell of. Mamm of Perth was not the first, nor was this Danann the first. They are only the first we know of that have stories in our family. In this story you will hear more than one familiar name.’

And she goes back to her story.

            Now in due time Danann and Mamm of Perth had younglings who grew proud and strong and brave. When the eldest of them, Alianora, was ten years old, Mamm was once again carrying life.

     And there came at that time a messenger from the South …

Dothann wriggles his wiry little self and Mamm of Dunnottar looks at him.  Finally he asks his question.

‘South? You mean OUR South, the one right down on the coast that has boats and fish and all that?’

‘No. This story happened inland, remember, so the messenger was simply from south of that inland place, and they called it South, just as we do the place that is south of us here. Places get old names too, and not all places are called the same by all.’

Satisfied, Dothann wriggles back into his place snugged up against Diann’s side and settles himself, fiddling with the ends of the braids of her long blonde hair.

            The messenger was bringing bad news. He went straight to the leaders and then the whole area was called to hear what was said.

     When all were together the word was given.

     In the south country were soldiers building camps. They were not like the big posts; they were smaller but they were being built quickly – and there were a LOT of them going up, each about a day’s march from each other and spreading across the countryside like a blanket being unfolded.

     From these camps the soldiers went on to build more and more and more, and other soldiers came to man them as they got done. 

     From these camps the soldiers went out into the countryside and took from the people all of their harvested crops.

     From these camps the soldiers went out into the countryside and took from the people all of their cattle, all of their sheep, all of their pigs, all of their horses. 

     From these camps the soldiers went out into the countryside and burned the homes of the people. 

     From these camps the soldiers went out into the countryside and burned all of the fields of the people that might have still had crops in them, and all of the gardens that might have still had anything in them. 

     From these camps the soldiers went out into the countryside and burned the forests.

     From these camps the soldiers were making their way north toward this area, one camp at a time, but very quickly. 

     When the message had been given, the people were silent. 

     When they began to speak they were still quiet about it. 

     Danann hugged Mamm to his side; Alianora, MammTwo, and their little brother Corrbed gathered themselves to their parents and clung there.

     ‘We can’t stay here. We have to go to the hills and we have to go RIGHT NOW,’ Danann of Perth told his family. 

     All of the families gathered everything they could, loaded their carts, packed bundles onto their horses, and herded their livestock as quickly as possible toward the hills to the west of them.

     Storerooms were emptied.

     Homes were stripped.

     Work places were cleared of tools and materials.

     Even though there were a lot of carts, and horses and cattle to pull them, not everything could fit.  Hard choices had to be made and there was no time to think about the decisions. 

     Mamm of Perth did not have to think about whether or not to take her under-bed chest. It was going, if she had to carry it herself every step of the way. She fashioned a carry-sling for it and onto her back it went. 

     The dogs all carried packs and so did all of the people; only the very old and the very young rode, either horseback or crowded onto a cart. 

     And so they fled, the people of our family and their friends and relations, from their homes and into the hills. 

     Now, you know, word travels faster than people can. 

     The people of the hills to the south of our family’s area had sent word that they were already receiving those fleeing their homes down there. 

     And those people had no fore-warning; they ran with whatever they had with them at the time, or with whatever they could quickly pick up and carry with them. 

     Some fought the soldiers.

     There were many many soldiers and the ones who fought them to give their families time to escape to the hills – well, they died, each and all. 

     The building of the camps spread quickly. Word of them spread even more quickly and everyone fled into the hills. 

     And the whole thing didn’t take very long. It doesn’t take soldiers long to march out from one camp to set up another one at the next site, and the next, and the next. 

     Like a spider weaving a web of death the soldiers soon covered the croplands, the grazing lands, the forests with the desolation of fire and smoke. 

The soldiers kept and guarded what they could use, and burned the rest.

     As the people ran for the hills they looked back over their shoulders and watched their homes, their forests, their villages, their fields - their very lives –    
burning  -  
burning  -   
burning  –  
behind them.

Mamm pauses and again turns her eyes to the fireplace. Nobody says a word or makes a sound. All eyes turn to the fireplace and not all of those eyes are dry.   

            That long dark in the hills is terrible.

     The hill people help everyone else as best they can, but they have not been prepared for this. 

     Families re-form into temporary villages in the hills and pool their resources. 

     Those resources are stretched already, and they get stretched tighter yet as word comes from the southern hills that help is desperately needed there by those who escaped with nothing more than their lives. 

     Our family, and everyone else who can, sends carts of supplies via the hill routes through the high passes to those most in need. 

     Nobody has enough of anything. 

     That long dark is especially long and dark for the people of our land and not all survive.

     At the burning of the forests, the game animals have also fled to the hills, the ones who were fast enough and strong enough to escape the inferno. 

     Our people will let them be until all else is gone; they too will be needed when this long dark is over; some must survive if there are to be any left at all.

     Even so, the time comes that the game must be hunted if the people are to survive. 

     It is not enough. 

It      is     not       enough.

     The elders begin to go out to gather wood for the fires, and they do not return. 

     By their own will they do not return.

     On their authority as elders they order their families to let them go and, grieving, the families respect that authority, and the elders are gone. 

     Infants born during that long dark do not survive. The hills are filled with the anguish of the hearts of our people during that long dark. The infants are gone.

     Littles cry out for food but their cries soon quiet to moans and then the moans stop and the littles are gone. 

     When little Corrbed goes, Alianora and MammTwo become predators, along with most of the other younglings. 

     Their eyes are dry and they prey upon the predator.

Relentless, ruthless, and vicious, they hunt the hunters.

     Their prey is the wolf.

     Their prey is the wildcat. 

     Their prey is anything and everything which bears fur or feather that might help keep the cold at bay for their families.

     Their prey is anything and everything which has meat that might stave off starvation for their families.   

     The younglings leave before dawn every day and return after dark every night, sometimes with meat or hide, too often empty-handed. 

            Many are lost during that long dark. 

     The survivors wear the mark of loss. 

     The survivors bear the pain of loss.

     The survivors swear to avenge the loss. 

     They will remember this long dark. 

     The vengeance of the survivors will be to return to their homes, to rebuild their villages, to carry with them from the hills the young spring sprouts and saplings with which to replant their forests, to use their tools to forge a weapon for every fist large and small, and to create from what is left to them trade items with which to buy seed for their fields and gardens. 

     The vengeance of the survivors is to not only survive but to thrive, and to remember this long dark so as to never have another like it. 

     And so, come the spring, the survivors gather together for the Spring Blessing.

As Mamm pauses, Merri speaks up. 

‘Is it like our own Spring Blessing, Mamm? Do they have the Song?’ 

Mamm grins at Merri and says, ‘Yes indeed – it is EXACTLY the same as our own. The Song is the same now as it was then and as it has been for always, because the same Spirit presides now as then as always.’

Merri smiles with satisfaction and subsides into silence.

            During the Spring Blessing, right during the SONG, Mamm’s time comes on her to bring forth the new life that our then family has worked so hard to protect over the course of that long dark. Mamm has a Voice in the Song and makes it through until the end, but as the Song fades Mamm sinks to the ground with a low moan. 

Danann carefully but quickly scoops her up and carries her to their shelter where she gives birth to not one new life but TWO. 

When the roundhouse erupts in spontaneous applause Mamm stops, looks around, and laughs out loud before continuing with her story. 

            Yes indeed, twins are delivered at that Spring Blessing, and both of them are healthy and hearty despite the hardship of that long dark on Mamm of Perth as she carried them.

Alianora and MammTwo have been sufficiently good predators to have made the difference in making sure of the survival of these infants. 

     What nobody knows is that the two sisters have not only spent the long dark hunting, but they themselves have come near to death as they give most of their own portions to Mamm. They have told nobody, but their only sustenance has been when Mamm insisted on watching them eat.  Otherwise, they have said that they already had their share and aren’t hungry. 

     And so, when the infants are born strong, the sisters hug one another in congratulations and victory. 

The long dark may have taken their little brother Corrbed from them but it will NOT have THESE. 

     Since Mamm’s under-bed chest has been long empty, it is used as a cradle for the twins. With the top off, of course!

Mamm of Dunnottar stops, as though finished with the story, and Sass raises her voice from over near the other fireplace.

‘Mamm!’

‘Yes?’

‘Ma-amm!’

‘Yes?’

‘Well?’

‘Well what?’

‘Well for the Mother’s sake! Aren’t you going to at least tell us if the infants were male or female?’

‘Oh. They were girl infants.’

‘And?’

‘And what?’

‘Well, what happened when they got back home, and what were the names of those girl infants, for starters!’

‘Oh. They were named Sass and Saille, since you ask so politely.’

‘And?’

‘Yes? And what?’

‘The rest of the story, Mamm. We want the rest of it.’

‘Well now, I’m kind of tired at the moment so you’ll just have to wait, won’t you?’ 

And Mamm gives an enormous yawn, holds her hands out to the younglings around her, and with their help gets to her feet. 

‘It’s bedtime now, so sweet dreams everyone.’

Mamm of Dunnottar wraps her plaid around her and heads out the door of the roundhouse to go to her rest in her own snug little house.