Droving sheep in the island’s winter came as no pleasant chore, I found, as we took the road back to Woolnorth with the southern flocks. The sun receded and storm clouds crashed against the steep fall of the cliffs, pouring out their loads. The rain washed nut-brown rivulets through the long grasses to the stony rise of the road. The waters swept fast and turned the road to a shallow, muddy stream, making our progress near impossible.
The rain followed us all along the way. I was doused as well as any clam. My clothes clung to me but I thought nothing of these miserable conditions. I had wronged far beyond any ordinary punishments and I would soon be made to pay.
My father kept in silence – my actions were a mystery to him. He did not look at me. Even Nathaniel kept his gaze from me, swi
