Harvey Manuscript 1! Pig Boy Michael A Harvey Ⓒ 2019 Michael A. Harvey Thank-you so much for agreeing to read this pre-publication version of Pig Boy. I hope you enjoy it and, if you have the time, it would be great to have any comments to help me move on with the next phase of editing. Please don’t hold back. I’d rather find out now that something doesn’t work rather than after publication! I have put a list of questions at the end of the book if you want any prompts but I am more than happy for you just to tell me how you reacted to the book and how it can be improved. I do appreciate your time and I will send you a pre-publication paper copy and/or digital copy, according to your preference, when they are ready. Thanks once again, Best wishes, Michael www.michael-a-harvey.com [email protected] PROOF COPY Not for distribution Harvey Manuscript 2! Chapter 1 Pig Boy was out the back. He swayed with the weight of the slop bucket as he walked towards the pigsty. With a grunt, he levered it up onto the top of the drystone wall of the sty. The pigs knew he was coming and had already trotted out to get their food before he arrived. Sometimes he felt as if they knew food was coming even before he filled the bucket. There they were. Three expectant faces, their mouths chomping in anticipation. It was as if they were trying to talk to him as they opened their slobbery jaws and bared their tusks. He tipped the bucket forward over the wall and felt it lighten. Then came the fat, wet noise of the slop hitting the trough below and he watched the pigs’ heads dive down and start guzzling. They gobbled and jostled, their bristled backs shaking to the rhythm of their chomping and, finally, two of them turned away and headed towards the sty, replete. Bristleback, the biggest, oldest and fattest of them, was more optimistic. He ran his snout along the length of the trough in search of the odd morsel, gently grunting to himself. Finally, he looked up at Pig Boy who had clambered onto the top of the wall, his feet dangling over the edge. Pig Boy sat there, with a hefty stick in his hand that had been leaning against the wall. When Bristleback came towards him the lad leaned forward and scratched the creature’s back with the stick. He scratched hard, the tough bristles flicking mud, dust and dried pig dung into the air. Pig Boy smiled. Here he was, sitting on a wall, scratching a contented and well-fed pig with a stick. What more could he want? Then he felt someone nearby and turned to see his youngest step-sister standing there, just looking up at him. She was the youngest and quietest and a girl to boot so he didn’t have much to do with her. He could see that she was trying to work out what to say and eventually she looked at him with a young child’s seriousness, and said, ‘Pig Boy, you need to come inside.’ Pig Boy followed her through the back door and into the main room, where the embers of the fire sent smoke curling up towards the thatch. The fireplace was in the middle of the floor and a shaft of smokey light PROOF COPY Not for distribution Harvey Manuscript 3! streamed in from the open door. His foster-family were all there and a tall, serious-looking stranger wearing a long woollen cloak stood, backlit, between him and the door. Much later when he looked back on what was about to happen it was all a blur. He remembered being hugged, words of blessing and his neck being squeezed by the arms of the youngest girl and then it was suddenly time to go. His mother was dead, that’s what they said. The journey ahead was long, his mother was dead. It was time for him to go home, his mother was dead. Someone squeezed his hand in theirs, his mother was dead. He was being led out through the door when, from deep inside him, he felt something wake up and he span round, held out his hand, and said, ‘Give me my ring!’ His foster-mother looked at her husband and he nodded. She went to a wooden box lying on the floor and, after rummaging for a moment, came back with a small linen parcel. He took it and slowly untied it, unwrapping the layers, feeling the hard metal of the ring inside reveal its shape and then, there it was, gleaming in the palm of his hand. He pushed it onto the ring finger of his right hand, looked at it shine and walked out of the house without looking back. The stranger who had come to fetch Pig Boy was already outside and was leading a young grey horse towards him. It was a long time since he had been on the back of a horse but as soon as he had the reins in his left hand and felt the leather of the saddle under his right, his body knew what to do. The stranger was bending forward, expecting Pig Boy to bend one leg so he could heave him up onto the saddle from his knee. But Pig Boy lifted himself up and swung his leg over the horse with no more effort than sitting on a chair. The man who had tried to help him made his way to his own horse and mounted, with a half-concealed smile on the his face. As they turned to go Pig Boy saw his foster-mother pour a perfunctory libation of water on the ground and his youngest foster-sister mouthing PROOF COPY Not for distribution Harvey Manuscript 4! the words of a farewell song. The others had already turned to go indoors. The two horsemen climbed a ridge a mile or two from Pig Boy’s foster- family’s house and then, on the higher land, they rode straight into a stinging, cold wind. Pig Boy kept his face up and let the wind scour his skin, peeling tears from his eyes and sending them spinning behind him. They kept silent company as they rode on and as the evening came, the weather softened. Pig Boy’s companion, who had been handpicked by his father for the job of fetching him home, watched him unobtrusively as they made their way to the home that the lad could barely remember. The man noticed, approvingly, how Pig Boy managed his horse. He had a natural balance and sway in the saddle and he could see how he was communicating with the horse with his whole body, not just yanking the reins and digging his heels in. The horse under him was calm and attentive and young man and creature had instinctively found a rapport, respect and pleasure in each other’s company. The man had been apprehensive when he first saw Pig Boy, fresh from the sty. He was uncouth and unskilled. More of a country bumpkin than the heir of a nobleman but watching him ride put the man’s mind at rest. His own mother had died when he was roughly Pig Boy’s age and he could feel the well of grief that was slowly filling inside his young charge. ‘My name is Owain,’ he said. Pig Boy did not respond. Later that evening, once camp had been made, Owain looked at the evening sky and gave Pig Boy a nudge. They left the newly lit fire gently smouldering and followed a slope down towards a river that tumbled over some rocks and then opened out into a pool. They both slowed down as they approached the water and then Owain silently picked up a fist-sized stone and put it in Pig Boy’s hand. ‘You’ll be needing this,’ he said. Then the man slowly and carefully approached the bank, took off his cloak and lay down along its length. His head was on the earth, his face turned towards the river. He slowly let the arm nearest the river glide into the water. PROOF COPY Not for distribution Harvey Manuscript 5! There was a big female salmon facing upstream, gently beating her tail to remain stationery in the moving water. His fingers were under her belly and, as the fish drifted into a trance, he slipped his other hand into the water, still lying on his belly and with his head hanging over the bank. Gently, he let the fish relax and then, with a sudden fling and a shout, he threw the fish on the ground in front of Pig Boy. Pig Boy knelt down in front of the gasping fish and held the stone high in his hand. He fixed his gaze on the thin, pulsing gash of gill and readied himself to release the blow that would kill the fish. Owain watched the boy’s face and the pent-up energy in his body, waiting for the impact. But instead, he saw the force inside the lad drain away and his body start to crumple. All the intention and aim seeped out of him, his grip slackened and the stone fell from his grasp and landed in front of him with a thump. Owain grabbed the stone and bashed the life out of the fish and then turned towards Pig Boy, who was slowly slumping forward to the ground.