“It used to be a mark of pride among the Fyskar to be born with the white hair. Not everyone is born with the talent. They tend to be darker in skin and hair and, no, we don’t grow beards like you highlanders,” Eoin ran a hand along his smooth jaw. He thought for a time before regaining his composure. “I married. I was training to become an apothecary,” his cheeks turned blotchy as tears began to drip. This was like reliving those nights fresh all over again. How was he not finished with his tears? He brushed at his cheeks in frustration. Fearchar and Seonaid found tears dripping down their cheeks. What he felt, they felt.
Seonaid reached out for Eoin’s hand. He took her fingers gently in his own and admired the daintiness of her small bones. “Cormac, Grannd’s brother, once owned the fishing fleet that you are familiar with as belonging to the Daleroch clan. Many of the Fyskar worked with or for the Daleroch. It was a decent relationship. He provided the clan with a source of income for those necessities of the modern world that the young could not or would not procure for themselves.
Widow Magaidh’s sister, Old Woman Niamh, was best friends with Rut, your grandmother, Fearchar,” he nodded to him. “Naimh had the talent, like me. Her grandson Cathal worked for Cormac on one of his ships. Did good work, had a steady hand for nets.
However, Cormac, even though he had the money for it, he skimpt on paying for maintenance on his ships. We all knew it. I had been asked to moderate more than a few arguments that happened between the men of the Fyskar and the Daleroch because of this negligence. Always there were minor improvements in the immediate time following these conversations. They were never enough though. Enough to placate momentarily only.
Naimh had predicted a rough day of it near the middle of spring and had begged Cathal to not go out, had begged Cormac to turn back. She had seen the signs that told of one last freeze and it would come for them early in the day. The man wouldn’t have it. Insisted they had to make one more catch before the harbor froze over. A raging, monstrous storm of sleet and snow hit off the coast while they were still out on the water. The sails caked in ice in seconds, so fast that they were solid when the men went to reef it. The mast could not bare the weight and came down on Cathal, breaking his back. When she got Cathal back, Naimh was absolutely devastated. I provided his Wake two days later, when he succumbed to the pain, to help his spirit Walk.
She went to Cormac after Cathal Walked on through to The Forest. She demanded the Dalerochs take responsibility for Cormac’s negligence. He tried to push her away and…” Eoin looked down at his hands.
“She made him feel how distraught she was?” Seonaid guessed.
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