“Surely you must have hit your head hard to think that.”
“Hmm, you’ll see what I mean. You can count on it,” Dermid replied.
“So, I have your word you will not dally with the lass?”
“Aye, she is safe from me.”
“Good. I’m glad to hear it.”
“But the question is ...”
“What?”
“Is she safe from you, Kieran?” With that parting shot, Dermid smirked, then went back to his task.
***
AFTER THE HUNT, KIERANreturned with some fresh game but could see no smoke or anything showing a fire. As he came closer, he was about to ask why no fire was lit but saw something he had never encountered before. There was a raging fire burning, but from a distance, it could not be spotted. The reason was because it was hidden in a shallow hole. There were two holes dug into the ground. One was at a slight angle, forming a tunnel to the main hole with the fire burning within.
“Did Dermid light this?” Kieran asked.
“No, Naomi did,” Dermid replied as he entered the campsite, carrying firewood in his arms.
“What are you about?” Kieran asked Naomi.
She replied, “Others can easily see a normal fire. This is less noticeable but will give off the same heat we need for cooking and to keep warm.”
“I ken that, but how does it work when it is mostly underground?”
“Fire needs air to keep burning. The small hole in the left allows air to funnel into the ground and out the other end. That way, it fans the main flames and keeps the kindling and wood in the hole burning for many hours. It also conceals the fire and smoke from passersby.
Kieran stared at Naomi in the firelight as she explained something so simple yet complex, with such ease. He was impressed. The lass was resourceful, self-sufficient, and bonnie as well. He wondered not for the first time what they were teaching women at the abbey these days because Yesenda had also hailed from the same abbey, and she was a force to be reckoned with.
“I was impressed when I saw her build it. Tis a brilliant method I will use in the future,” Dermid said as he left the pile of wood close by, then disappeared to see to other tasks.
Kieran made his way to it with his catch and began preparing the meat to place over it. “What man taught you to light a fire like that?” he casually asked.
Naomi replied, “Twas not a man. It was a lone woman, a traveler I came upon on my journey. She had a strange manner of speaking and garments woven in patterns I have not seen before. Her name is Samira. In gratitude for the food I had shared, she offered me a skill in return. At the time, I had not realized the value of her gift far outweighed mine.”
“Aye, tis a treasure indeed. Do you ken where she was from?” Kieran asked, becoming curious at the mention of a woman traveling alone with a name that was uncommon.
“She would not say, but I knew she must be from a faraway land. I would have thought her a Viking at first, but it seemed as if she was running away from someone.”
Kieran just nodded, then they went about preparing the meal together and by the time Dermid returned, the meal was ready. They settled by the fire and ate together. Kieran thought he had never tasted finer fare. Naomi had added many herbs she had foraged for the dish, and they ate their fill. Soon they took turns bathing by the stream while one person kept watch over the campsite. Eventually, they gathered by the fire to allow their hair and clothes to dry in the open air.
Naomi felt clean after the hard day’s travel, and she could not help but glance over at Kieran as he moved about the camp with ease. They partook of some oatcakes with a drizzling of honey and a cup of mead before moving to their pallets.
“Rest. Dermid and I will take turns to keep watch through the night.”
Naomi was too exhausted to argue. She nodded and made her way to the pallet, wrapping herself with a warm cloak she had brought and remaining close by the fire. Naomi could barely keep her eyes open. She turned to face Kieran and watched him in the fire’s light, sharpening his claymore and seeing to his weapons. It had been a long, taxing day. She would rest and then begin her plans to escape tomorrow.
***