5th December 1102

The air was filled with grunts, squeals and the occasional oath as Arran drove the oinking crowd towards the barn. He was doing well though, all the pigs where heading in the same direction at least, galloping along on muddy trotters, pink legs flying and curly tails waggling.

“That’s it lad, keep ‘em steady, yew got it,” he called out to the panic faced boy.

“Bloody ‘ell, oh pardon, that saddlebacked ones headin’ off in the wrong direction,” Arran cried, eyes wide, his body turning this way and that unsure whether to keep with the herd or follow after the errant pig.

“It’s bein’ alright lad, calm now. Yew just go an’ grab that un’ an I’ll take care of the rest of these,” he called.

The boy went pelting after the pig that was squealing in terror and galloping towards the limited cover of the trees, stripped bare by winter and waving weakly in the chill breeze.

“Now yew come ‘ere yew, yew bloody stupid hog yew,” Arran shouted, darting around the terrified pig his scrawny limbs going every which way, his scruffy hair flapping crazily in the wind.

On second thought perhaps the pig would win this battle. No wait, he had it, squirming and screaming in his arms, trotters kicking out but Arran would not relinquish his grip. He lugged the writhing animal over, giving it a gentle nudge on the rump and sending it careening over to the rest of the group.

“There now, what did I tell yew,” Noah congratulated him, “good job lad, now can yew be getting’ that door.”

If there was ever a person that needed to be told he was appreciated it was Arran. Noah supposed it came from the build up of so many small unkindnesses that had been done against the boy. If there was ever a person who did not deserve it, it was warm, honest, friendly Arran. It only reaffirmed Noah’s opinion of people. In general, they would treat you bad if they had the chance. He had been lucky, never providing much of a target. But those that he cared about the most had been easy pickings.

“Good lad, but yer goin’ to have to be moving if yew want them pigs to get past yew.”

“Oh, sorry. Sorry Noah,” Arran cried, leaping away from the doorframe where he had been standing.

So quick to apologise. A lifetime of being blamed. Poor lad.

“Noah, that there pig’s lookin’ at me like he’s fit to run off again, don’t yew dare yew, yew pink wretch.”

The pig gave a loud oink and then turned on its trotters, bolting for the bushes again.

“Bloody, ‘ell, yew come back here yew ruddy piece of pork!”

“Yew get him lad, I’ll get these others inside,” Noah said as Arran scuttled after the crazily galloping pig.

Noah carefully led the other pigs, which were on the whole very well-behaved, into the barn and their new pen. Arran staggered in through the door, grunting with exertion as he wrestled with the squirming pig in his arms.

“There yew big, pink bastard into the pen with yew,” he cried, triumphantly lowering the pig unceremoniously into the pen with the others.

“Well that’s it then now,” Noah latched the pen door, with a satisfied smile.

It was a big relief to him that the weather had been good enough for them to raise this structure. Fair enough, it was not a proper barn by any means, more than anything it was a shelter from the wind. But it was the best they could do in the short time since they had been released from their duties at the castle and he was pleased with the result. His family and Arran who felt like part of it, his farmhands and their families. They would not go hungry this winter.

He gave Arran a hearty clap on the back by way of thanks and they stepped out into the grey, cloud-filtered light.

“Hallo luv,” Gena was carefully coming down the front steps with Derrin in her arms.

“Yew two shouldn’t be out here without coats. It may be looking a bit warmer but there’s a bite to the wind to be sure.”

“Oh, we’re only steppin’ out fer a moment. We thought that perhaps yew lads would be interested in some tucker didn’t we Derrin luv?”

She peered fretfully at her son, as though if she squinted hard enough she might be able to finally read his expression. He didn’t like to see it when she did this, so often did he need to reassure her of Derrin’s love for his mama.

The dreadful thing was that, had she been able to see his bright, little face for only a moment she would have seen the love and trust that shone there whenever he gazed up at her. Derrin loved his Pa and he loved his uncle Arran, he even loved Dog, but there was noone who he looked at like that but his mama.

”We’ll just be finishing up here luv an’ then we’ll join yew an’ this little piggie here inside.”

He heard Arran groan behind him, ”no more pigs thanks.”

“Oh dear, didn’t I mention to yew, we’re havin’ that salted pork fer dinner tonight in a nice stew.”

“Oh, well that’s bein’ alright. If we’re eatin’ the blighters I mean,” Arran replied with a nervous laugh.

“Yew two just head on inside, we’ll be just a moment.”

They bustled up the stairs, through the door, Derrin happily chattering while his Mama listened, her faced screwed up intently as though there were something more to hear.

“Now lad, I’ve been thinking. Truth be told, it’s a big help yew’ve been to me this year. I couldn’t have got the farm up an’ running without yew.”

“Oh, really, I think I was bein’ more trouble than help, takin’ the best spot in front of the fire an’ all,” Arran replied instantly, the lad always believed that his actions were worth naught. Noah supposed it was because he had been told it so very often.

“Well now, that was no trouble really, good to have someone to keep the fire stoked efter all. But I was thinking’ perhaps yew deserved a bit of something’ extra.”

“Extra?” Arran replied, his eyes wide and startled, “oh no Noah, I couldn’t be takin’ anything extra from yew. Yew’ve kept me fed an’ watered an’ given me a roof over me head an’ it’s more than I could have asked fer.”

“Now, now, listen lad, I can’t be given yew any money as we’ve scarce any ourselves. What I can offer yew is help building’ yer own little house,” Noah had been planning how to say this all morning, ordering his thoughts as he went about neatly stacking sacks of grain and bales of hay in the flimsy barn.

“Yew, see,” he began slowly, ”It’s probably none of my business, but I thought perhaps yew might be needin’ a place of yew own. In case yew had… plans.”

Arran looked confused for a moment and Noah feared he would have to explain more thoroughly than that, but to his profound relief comprehension suddenly dawned on the boy’s face. Noah was not the sort of man to handle the affairs of the heart, he was used to dealing in more solid matter, planks of wood, strong iron nails, blocks of stone. He would only mash and warp something as delicate as that.

Arran’s face grew sad, his gaze not meeting Noah’s, “No, I… I had no plans.”

Noah was actually quite shocked. Gena had been certain. He had even been a little certain when he let himself be. Arran had spoken so fondly of the girl. And she had seemed to have a certain fondness in return. What a pity.

“So I don’t really need a place of me own,” he suddenly looked horrified, “unless yer wantin’ me out of yours… oh of course. I’m sorry, so stupid of me.”

“Now slow down lad,” Noah chided before Arran got himself more worked up, “that was no what I meant at all. Gena an’ I, an’ little Derrin as well sure do appreciate yer company. I just thought yew might want it. But of course yew can stay. I was thinking’ that when spring comes an’ we build this barn the proper way we can make a space above fer yew to live in. That way there’ll be a bit more space fer us all but we can stay together.”

Arran nodded gratefully. Poor lad.

Barran, Ulcar