old stuff Chapter Eight- Barrow and Farrow

Chapter VIII - “Barrow and Farrow”


“It is not what you are running from,
but what you are headed toward
that makes you who you are.”
--Mardus of Macedonia


Boaz looked toward the place where Primus was pointing.
“See, he already is a hunting hound.” He said. He looked around, picked up their sacks, and put them on his back.
“Come on, brother!” Jachin yelled.
“Hold back. What is it?” Boaz replied, huffing with the added load.
The dog was looking at the field between the wheat field and the woods on the other side. Mother cautioned against going into the woods. The fear was reserved mainly for the Great Forrest in the far north, but Boaz knew that it had been almost ten years since the great fire at the sacred grove. That great tragedy had brought death to so many of the Druid priests. To this day, no one had found out what had caused the blaze. Curious it was that it was during the same time that their great grandfather had disappeared. That was a powerful time, but that was long ago. Boaz had often heard his father say, whenever anyone brought up the subject, that it was a “good day”, and “a day of cleansing and new beginnings”. Truly, the Druids had rebuilt and had become stronger than ever since that mysterious night. To most, the warnings didn’t apply anymore and certainly not to these small woods.
As Boaz reluctantly started to the edge of the field with his brother, he pictured the men of their tribe traveling in groups of at least two or more on a hunt. He longed for the day he and his brother could join the men, using Primus, the great hunting hound, to bring the animals at bay. Swords would make quick work to gain the prize of the beasts cornered by the dogs. He envisioned the hound flushing out the birds from the hedgerows into the open fields where they would have a clear shot with their bows or slings.
Shifting his now more cumbersome load he topped the hill and came to the end of the rows of grain. Climbing the gated, stone wall he looked for Jachin. Where had he gone this time? There, less than half a league ahead of him, he spied him in the pasture; he was gesturing his brother to be quiet. Boaz ran up to him and was about to chide him for leaving him when he saw what Jachin was looking at. There in the pasture was a big black bull. The formidable beast stood alone in the pasture, grazing lazily on the sweet grasses.
“Let’s scare it.” Jachin said.
“Let’s don’t”
Jachin picked up a rock. “This will make him mad. Watch.”
He flung the rock high into the air. It didn’t come close to the animal at all. The second rock was better aimed, yet missed, whizzing past its head. The animal never made a move. It kept right on chewing.
Boaz picked up the next stone and tossed it with all his might. The projectile caught the bull right on the back flank. He took in a quick breath. They heard the thud as it hit the muscled flesh and the boys looked at each other and grinned. Boaz was pleased that his stone had landed on the mark, but felt a little puzzled when the bull lifted his foot as if a fly had bothered him, ignoring the boys’ attempts to move the beast to action.
Not to be outdone, and always more willing to take the risk, Jachin bent down and carefully picked up a rock the size of his fist. He drew in closer toward the animal. Taking careful aim, he hurled the stone, giving it everything he had.
As the rock sailed high into the air, the old farmer come over the hillside.
The man had not noticed the boys until he crested the hill. He must have seen Jachin first, standing with another rock ready to throw. The man draw his sword as he called out to them, “Does your father know you boys are out here?”
Jachin turned to Boaz and was about to say something when Boaz saw the rock he’d thrown come down - right on the bull’s head - between the horns - hard.
The bull let out a bone-chilling bellow, turned around and looked straight at the boys. He then stamped and dug his hoof into the ground flinging dirt high into the air and snorted so that puffs of dust made it appear as if the beast was breathing out fire. Eyes wide, showing white, the animal charged toward them.
Without another breath, the twins took off running as fast as their little legs could go toward the stone fence where the pasture edged up against the woodland. Jachin ran ahead as Boaz tried to catch up. Boaz let out a whoop when he saw his brother leap like a deer completely over the barrier. He had jumped the fence in one bound, his bare feet touching nothing but air.
When Boaz got to the wall, he found a broken place in the stones. Tossing the two bags he still carried over the wall, he tried to squeeze through where the brambles and thorny vines that had grown up in the gap. However, the more he pushed the vines and branches trying to get to safety, the more he tangled in the thicket. He knew that he had to get on the other side quickly or he would be as good as dead. He could not imagine what it would feel like to be gored by the beast behind him. He didn’t want to see the blood and feel the pain. He frantically tore at his trousers trying to escape in time.
With his bracae stuck in the thorns, he heard Jachin begin to laugh. As he turned in fear to look behind him, expecting to see the bull right in front of him, he closed his eyes.
Jachin laughed again.
As Boaz opened his eyes only a squint, he couldn’t see the bull. Then, just at the edge of the horizon, he saw the dreaded beast. It was being calmly led away by the farmer back over the hill. It had only bluffed the charge and didn’t even chase them after all. Boaz let out a loud anguishing “Aaagh!”
Jachin helped his brother out of the thorns, slapped him on the back, and then took off again as if nothing had happened. He ran straight into the woods.
“Wait, you idiot!” Boaz called out to him.
“It’s all part of the adventure!” Jachin yelled.
He had forgotten his pack again. As Boaz picked them both up he saw the tear in his pants. He tried to pat the tear down as if it would stick back into place. Mom will not be pleased, he thought.
Out of breath and feeling that he’d already had more than enough adventure, he slowly walked into the woodland after his brother. He heard a dog barking in the distance.
* * *

Following the area of least resistance in the woods Jachin came into what first appeared to be an open glen in the midst of the trees. The sun was almost directly overhead and illuminating a small hill in the middle of the open area. It rose as tall as a man and appeared round. Jachin had never seen such a mound but had heard of them. Boaz came up behind him and said, “Whoa, do you see that? A burial mound. Right here in our own woods!”
Jachin started to run to it and Boaz grabbed him.
“Haven’t you heard the stories?”
“What stories?”
“You know, about the monster that guards the graves”
“I heard they were just little Pixies”
“No, brother, don’t even touch it. It will bring trouble. Like a thunderstorm or a bad illness…”
“Or maybe seeing dead people’s bones? I’m checking it out.”
Jachin had seen cairns before. They were stacks of stones that marked where someone had been buried. His family usually burned their dead and covered the ashes with the stones. Some stacked so high they called them “stone men”. But an actual burial mound was different. It was old –very old.
He walked around the earthen mound. There were large stones sunk deep in the ground at different intervals. As he got to the other side he saw the opening.
“Hey Boaz, c’mere. There’s a door. Let’s go inside.”
“Let’s not.”
“C’mon chicken.”
He coaxed Boaz over. He really didn’t want to go inside alone. It was dark in there. The side jams of the doorway were stone and brush hung down over the lintel. It was barely a man’s height. Poking his head in, he smelled the must and dryness of the interior. There looked like a passageway leading into it some distance. The walls outside had carvings. He touched them and felt the deep grooves of the swirls and zigzags of the artwork.
“I wonder how old this is. And who is buried here?”
Then he heard the noise. Boaz must have heard it too because he grabbed Jachin’s shirt. Then they heard the Primus growl behind them. They slowly stepped back from the doorway and toward the tree line. They heard sounds coming from the mound. Moans and scratching.
“I’m leaving, brother.” Boaz said.
“Im right behind you.” Jachin replied.
As soon as they were in the woods they headed in the direction of the road. If they could make it there, then Jachin knew they would be safe. As they stepped onto the road Jachin let out a sigh and said “It’s all part of the..” but he didn’t get to finish.
Someone grabbed him and pushed him to the ground. It was a group of boys from Camalodinum out for a march. Jachin knew they were getting ready for the Beltane games where they would be chosen as men of the tribe. The smallest of the group- and somehow in spite of his size- the chosen leader of the gang was known as Toenen. Though older than the boys, he only stood up to their chin in height. He knew who Jachin and Boaz were, everyone did, and he made fun of the ‘half-breeds’ whenever he could. Jachin knew they could get away with it, especially since Caradoc didn’t care. He had heard his father tell others that taking care of children was as bad a being called a lover of men. And if they got beat up, all the better to make them strong.
“Well, what do we have here? The Comhghans out for a stroll?” He said using the term most people called him and his brother. It meant “twins”. They were never called by their names. Just “Comhghans”.
Jachin tried to get up but Toenen put his foot on his chest.
“Where did you little pigs come from?”
“We came from the woods, we found a barrow.”
“A barrow” Toenen said laughing. Like a castrated boar?” They would sometimes castrate the hogs and they would get a hump on their backs as they got older. Therefore, they called the hogs ‘barrow pigs’.
“Not good for much of anything but to fatten up and kill for meat.” The boy jibed as he kicked at Jachin on the ground. “You must be the ‘barrow.’” He laughed again and the other boys laughed as well. “And you,” he pointed at Boaz and several boys grabbed him from behind. “You look just like him. You must be Farrow.”
Jachin tried to catch his breath. He knew what a farrow was too. It was a young pig, usually the runt. A name used for children who were born deformed and taken to the cliffs and killed.
“Barrow and Farrow”
“Barrow and Farrow” the boys said as they marched around Jachin and Boaz. Then two of the boys picked Jachin up by his hands and feet and they carried him down the road. Herding Boaz behind them, they did a mock parade shouting, “Barrow and Farrow, Barrow and Farrow.”
Before long, they grew tired of their game, or tired of carrying Jachin. They dropped him on the ground, and removed his trousers. Toenen gave him a few more jabs and left them in the road. The gang ran away swinging Jachin’s pants in the air. “Barrow and Farrow. Barrow and Farrow. Barrow and Farrow…” the voices trailed into the distance.
Jachin lay there naked except his shirt. He ran his hands through his hair over and over. Everything had gone fine that day until he looked in the grave mound. Boaz helped him up and together they ran back down the road to their hill fort.
When he got back home, he quickly found another pair of trousers and ran to the pig sty and sat amongst the pigs. Maybe that was all he really was. Just a pig. Useless. Even his name had no meaning. Maybe it meant pig in his mother’s tongue as well.
“I will never be anyone. I am nothing. Look at my arms. They are small. I will never be strong. I am just a barrow.” In his mind he didn’t think of the pig, he thought of the grave.
Sitting in the mud, he heard a voice. It was his uncle Adminius. Jachin hunched down hoping he wouldn’t see him. He covered his face.
Whereas Caradoc was in the south procuring land holdings for the tribe, Adminius had stayed behind to care for things. Jachin knew Adminius was not fond of his brother’s warring and refused to participate, claiming need to care for the land at home. Recently he had brought over a big sow to mate with Caradoc’s boar. The boys loved to play with it and had named the hog “Caesar”. Apparently Adminius had just finished putting the sow into the pen when Jachin had chosen his place to hide.
“Come here boy.” He said in a soothing tone. Jachin sat there. “I won’t hurt you. Come sit with me on the wall.” He sat down and Jachin knew he would wait all day if he had too. That was how his uncle was. Very patient.
“Don’t want to.” Jachin said quietly.
Adminius heard the boy and without saying a word, walked over to him. He pushed a sow aside and sat down next to Jachin in the mud.
Jachin turned his head.
After a long silence, Jachin felt Adminius reach over and put his hand on the young boy’s shoulder. Then Jachin was pulled in by the warrior’s strong arm, close to his uncle’s chest. He tensed at first but relenting, he let Adminius hold him there.
Jachin felt like the little bird that had fluttered in his tunic. Just as this little fowl had come to Jachin for help, he knew he could always go to his uncle if he needed him. He buried his face into Adminius’ tunic and wept.
They sat there quietly. Adminius never asked him anything. He just sat there with him until Jachin wiped his tears, got up from the pigpen and walked back to the house.