Wolf and the Sheep

 Conall was out in the fields, rod in hand. Conall was named because when he was born, he howled like a wolf for days. His parents raised him to be gentle and strong, caring and protective over their flock. Now a young man, Conall was working his family land. As the day got hotter and the sun got higher, Conall counted his sheep, grouping them until he discovered he was one short.

Unable to live with himself if he left that sheep alone, Conall herded the rest of the flock and set off to find that missing sheep. Conall led the flock towards the cliffs, in case the sheep got lost and went over. Keeping the rest away from the edge, Conall braved to the drop and looked down. The water below crashed against the edge of the earth, the water sloshed like a mug of mead, sloshing against the side of the steep cliff. No sheep though. Conall herded the sheep towards the neighbouring woods and hoped that the sheep hadn’t wandered in and got caught on a root or snared in some vines. Using the rod to clear a path in front of him, Conall left the sheep to graze on the outskirts of the woods and he adventured in alone. He was glad that it was daylight for the sun was piercing through the canopy, creating pockets of light. He gazed through the gallery of trunks and couldn’t spot a single white ball. Returning to the sheep, Conall took the sheep back to his fields before deciding to see if any of the neighbouring far

mers had seen a stray sheep.

Conall followed the dirt path towards the next field and noticed a stream of smoke was on the horizon. Conall rushed forward, for smoke meant fire and fire could lead to destruction. To his relief, he saw that the fire was contained to a small section, surrounded by smooth stones.

“Why was someone setting camp in the field.”

Conall was looking around when a man with messy hair, wearing strange cloths, walked over. He was holding a dead bird in his hand. He looked at Conall and then spoke in a strange language. However, Conall got some understanding.

“You are camping here; this is not your field.”

“I am passing through.” The man replied and placed the bird over the fire. “One night, then I am gone.”

Conall didn’t know what he was saying.

“Who are you?”

“I am Em-ah.” The man spoke.

“Ema, have you seen a sheep.”

The man looked at Conall, the fire brightening the man’s odd eye colour.

“There was a sheep stuck in a mud pit, over there.” The man used a single finger to point Conall to the north.

Conall walked in that direction until he heard bleating. He reached what seemed to be a small shallow hole filled with mud.

It had rained the other day. Conall looked into the hole and saw his sheep. He tried to pull him out but the sheep was stuck. Conall called for Ema to help. The man came over and laughed.

He stepped into the mud and lifted the sheep up and handed it over to Conall.

“Here you go.”

Conall watched as the man stepped out of the mud and pulled something from his clothing. Conall recognised it as something that cleans wool. The man cleaned his feet with the cake and then pocketed it. He walked back to the fire and removed the cooked bird.

“What are you doing here?” Conall asked, once he walked over.

“Resting, exploring. A while back I helped a couple with a baby, now I am just exploring.”

Conall half understood and figured the man was a Saxon.

“I need to go back to my flock.”

“What is your name?” Ema asked.

“I am Conall.”

“Nice meeting you and ewe.”

Conall returned back to his flock, wondering why the man used soap to wash himself when he could have just used water. Conall washed the mud off his sheep and then went back to minding the field until the sun was beyond the horizon.

***

Years passed since Conall met Ema and Ema hasn’t been seen since. When Conall was now in his late 20s, he headed into the village to sell some of his sheep. He noticed that the village was a mix of Celtics like him and others, there were even a talk of a couple from across the water living in a secluded hut. As he was selling his sheep, a young lady approached him. He was soon feeling breathless upon just glimpsing at her.

“Can I have three sheep, please.” She asked in a voice that made him feel sweaty.

“Certainly, haven’t seen you before.”

“I am new, I am Gisal. My father sent me to live with people here to keep the peace.”

Conall nodded and handed over the sheep.

“Maybe I would see you again.”

Gisal nodded and led the three sheep away.

Conall couldn’t help but smile when thinking about Gisal and after a season of not seeing her, at the village. Conall went looking and heard bleating and spotted Gisal sitting on a rock with one of his former sheep. Conall approached her and noticed that Gisal had been crying.

“Why the tears?”

“It’s you. I am crying because my father wants me to marry a man I don’t love for, I love another.”

“If you don’t wish to be betrothed to this man, run away, leave.”

“Leave?”

“Yes, find that person you do love and be with them.”

Gisal looked at Conall, she stood up and touched his hand.

“Would you run away with me?”

Conall was speechless and then nodded. They took the sheep and they headed west away from the village and the coast. Conall and Gisal fled until they found a clearing and they set up camp. Gisal held Conall and he saw the stars in her eyes.

“Thank you for freeing me, I was beginning to feel unsafe there.”

“I will look after you Gisal, I will protect you like one of my sheep.”