The high pastures stretched before us like a green tapestry woven between the stone teeth of the mountains.
My father and I worked in the comfortable rhythm that ca from years of shared labour, driving the cattle down the winding mountain paths toward the safety of the lower fields.
The beasts lowed and complained at being moved from their familiar grazing grounds, but they followed the old trails carved by countless generations of hooves and boots.
There wasn’t much for them to roam around, as most of the island was covered with the snow. We had to take them up towards the mountains where the sunlight is stronger; only there could we find grass for the cattle.
My father moved with the steady grace of a man who had spent his life among these peaks, reading the weather in the colour of the sky and the behaviour of the animals.
His weathered hands guided the most stubborn of the bulls with touches that seed gentle but brooked no argunt.
Watching him work, I understood why the other villagers looked to him for counsel on matters of farming and livestock. There was wisdom in the way he read the land, wisdom earned through decades of listening to what the mountains had to teach.
The sun climbed toward its zenith as we worked, the air growing warm despite the altitude. Sweat beaded on my forehead as I chased down a wayward heifer that had decided the grass was greener on a precarious ledge.
By the ti I’d coaxed her back to the herd, my shirt clung to my back, and my legs ached from scrambling over the rocky terrain.
It was then that Aldein found us.
My father’s dear friend, Aldein, ca picking his way up the trail on his sturdy mountain pony, his round face red with exertion despite riding rather than walking. His fine clothes were dusty from the journey, and his breathing ca in short puffs as he dismounted near where my father was counting the cattle.
"Garrick!" he called out, mopping his brow with a silk kerchief that had probably cost more than most villagers earned in a season. "These mountains get steeper every year."
My father’s weathered face creased in a grin. "That they do, old friend. Though I suspect it’s less the mountains changing and more our bones growing older."
Aldein laughed, a sound like pebbles rolling in a leather sack.
He was a good man despite his prosperity, one who’d earned his wealth through fair dealing and hard work rather than the sharp practices that marked so.
"Your boy’s been helping you all day, I see," Aldein observed, nodding in my direction. "Good to see young n who understand the value of honest work."
I felt heat rise in my cheeks at the praise, though I wasn’t entirely sure I deserved it. My mind had wandered more than once during the day’s labour, drifting to mories of soft skin and whispered words in the darkness of Valara’s lodge.
"Jaenor’s always been willing to lend a hand," Garrick replied, though there was sothing in his tone that suggested he knew my thoughts hadn’t been entirely focused on cattle.
"Though he could stand to help more often. A man needs to understand the land that feeds him."
Aldein nodded sagely. "Wise words. I’ve seen too many young n think they’re above the work that built their families’ fortunes. The earth doesn’t care about your pride—it only responds to sweat and dedication."
As if to emphasise his point, he launched into a lengthy discourse on the virtues of hard work and the responsibilities that ca with being born to a prosperous family.
I found myself nodding at appropriate intervals while my mind wandered to other matters. He ant well, but he had a tendency to repeat himself when he felt he was imparting important wisdom.
The afternoon shadows were growing long by the ti we’d successfully herded the cattle down to the lower pastures.
My father and Aldein were already making plans to visit the tavern for drinks and continued conversation about trade routes and market prices.
I begged off, claiming fatigue from the day’s work, though the truth was that I had other matters on my mind.
"You sure you won’t join us?" Father asked, though his eyes suggested he already knew the answer.
"Aldein’s been away trading for two months. He’s got stories from the lowlands."
"Another ti," I replied.
"I want to check on that fence repair we discussed."
Both n nodded understanding, though I caught a knowing glint in my father’s eye that suggested he wasn’t entirely fooled by my stated intentions.
They headed off toward the village centre, their voices carrying back to on the evening breeze as they debated the rits of different grain varieties.
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