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Stupid Sheep

Chapter 1

Nodan's nimble fingers pulled each long blade of grass in and out, winding them between each other, until they hugged in death to form a basket . . . which would then be used to gather more grass.

Grass, grass, grass.

The sheep of Toras Hilland lived in huts made of grass, sat on woven grass mats around their fires, slept on mattresses stuffed with grass and pillows that were stuffed with grass, spent their long days rolling big bales of grass to store for the winter, and gave their children balls of grass to play with. They worshipped the sun and danced in its light, wearing nothing but grass skirts as they begged it to bring on a bountiful harvest. The sun grew the grass, after all, and without the grass . . . how would they live?

If the wolves wanted to catch the sheep, they had but to burn the grass and wait for the sheep to pack up and move, forced as they would be to relocate. It was a tactic the wolves called "flushing" and it worked every time: as a clan of sheep fled their burning homes, they were picked off one by one with the sharp bone-arrows of the wolves.

The wolves were wild creatures who lived in the forests surrounding Hilland, the green land of the various sheep clans. From the time they were little lambs, sheep were always told to stay out of the forest. Only fools and those hungry for death went in there. Instead, sheep went to the edge of the forest for firewood, always in packs, and staying only as long as it took to grab a pile of logs before fleeing. The more desperate wolves were sometimes known to pick off sheep who lingered on the edge of the forest, and so "gathering firewood" had become a euphemism for an untimely death. If a sheep was fatally ill and wished to die away from the eyes of their family, they "gathered firewood." If a sheep angered the clan, disgraced their parents, committed a crime, then they gathered firewood, with the understanding that they would never return.

Indeed, "gathering firewood" had even become a way to appease the wolves among some clans. A young, fat, healthy sheep would be offered to the wolves as a peace offering. In return, the wolves would leave that clan be for a year. Clan Lochlain hadn't yet resorted to such desperation, but Nodan knew that he'd be the first one sacrificed to the wolves if they ever did.

Nodan had quite a reputation among his people for what was considered his "radical" thinking. He thought that if only they didn't rely on grass so much, they could survive the wolf attacks. If only they would learn to fight, take up weapons, defend themselves! But Chief Roibeard - wishing to avoid looking weak - stubbornly refused, saying that grass, grass, grass was their way of life. It was a way that was good enough for their ancestors, and so it was good enough for them!

Nodan thought the chief was humongously stupid for his pride and didn't hesitate to say so at clan gatherings. This naturally resulted in Clan Lochlain hating him, to the point that he had brought shame to his family and was fairly close to be asked to "gather firewood." He and his family would have been exiled were it not for the princess and the prince, who - having grown up with Nodan as children - adored him and protected him from the clan's anger.

The chief especially hated Nodan because his daughter, Princess Sinead, had a crush on him and wished to marry him. It was a long standing tradition that princes and princesses would marry across tribes, keeping the alliances strong. Should Princess Sinead marry another, it would anger their neighboring clan Ostlund, to which she had been promised. But Chief Roibeard loved his daughter dearly and wished for her to be happy, even if her happiness meant the risk of war, and so he reluctantly put off her wedding day while he wrestled with the decision to allow his daughter to marry as her heart guided her.

Nodan's family, eager as they were to win back Clan Lochlain's favor, were in full support of the union and badgered Nodan to make a move on the princess. In order to marry a ewe, a ram had simply to approach her window in the night and offer himself to her as husband while bearing the traditional blue flowers. If the ewe accepted the flowers, they would then make love, and in the morning, the young ram would move into his wife's home.

Nodan could not fathom_approaching Sinead's window with a flower and then proceeding to make love to her. She was like a little _sister to him. Sometimes more than his own sister!

Nodan's father, impatient and desperate to secure his family's safety, nagged him everyday to "bang the princess," who seemed more than willing to lift her tail. He would grab Nodan by the ear and drag him off to lecture him on sex and how to do it right. Such lectures were always excruciating because Nodan didn't know how to tell his father that he desired only males.

While same-sex love wasn't exactly frowned upon among the sheep (in fact, many rams and ewes were happily married to the same sex), Nodan's family - had they known about it -- would still have frowned upon his secret relationship with Prince Rian, Princess Sinead's older brother. They wanted him to marry the princess and produce little lambs that would secure their place in the clan, for with the ever escalating wolf attacks, there was a very real possibility that they would be sacrificed to the wolves if Nodan did not marry into the royal family. Nodan's outspokenness had cost his family dearly, and his grandmother especially saw it as his responsibility to make things right for them. If he didn't marry the princess, his entire family could be sent to "gather firewood." In that light, his path seemed clear. If not miserable.

Because no one knew that Nodan preferred rams, he suffered in silence, too shy to open his mouth and explain why marrying the princess was so excruciating for him. His family thought he was simply being stubborn and thus offered no sympathy should he show hesitation or discomfort at the very thought.

Nodan's mother alone was kind to him in those tense days, to the point that he began to suspect that she knew of his true feelings. When the rest of the family would nag him at supper, reminding him that their predicament was his fault, Nodan's mother would take him aside, stroke his wooly mane, and tell him that it didn't matter to her who he loved.

"But, Ma," Nodan said in amazement, "if I don't marry Sinead, we're all going to die!"

Nodan's mother looked at him sadly, her gentle green eyes wet. She, like most ewes, was very short, with gray-white wool that was speckled brown and a very thick halo of wooly hair, from which her small face peeped as if from a cloud. A long green skirt was wrapped about her legs and secured at the hip in a knot. On her upper arms were bracelets woven of red autumn grass, and her wool had been stained with red markings, striped and zigzagging down her face. Her breasts were bare, as all ewes went about with their breasts bare, and after three children, her enormous bosom was always touching everyone who stood within three feet of her. Her name was Flann, which was such a disappointingly plain name for such a remarkable spirit, Nodan thought. Flann was highly regarded for her clever mind and was known to have solved the clan's drinking water problem some years before Nodan was born - one reason their family hadn't yet been run off. Nodan's grandmother - his father's mother - always complained that he was too much like his mother, which he took as a compliment, even if it wasn't intended that way.

"I dunno," said Nodan's mother with a shrug. "I've lived a pretty long life. Watched my lambs grow up. Was very happy with your father for many years." She smiled into space. "I'll never forget how he proposed to me. Did I tell ya how he came to me window naked as a newborn lamb, dick flappin' in the breeze and --!"

"Yes, Ma, you told me!" Nodan cried over her, and his mother laughed, her green eyes crinkling up girlishly. She pointed a pink nail at her son. "Ya blushed! I love makin' ya do that!"

Nodan rolled his eyes. Like his father, his wool was pure white, which made his discomfort more than obvious to everyone around him. Nodan's chest was bare and he wore a skirt wrapped around his hips, though the males of the sheep clans wore skirts much shorter than the females. Nodan's skirt was pale green and matched his bright green eyes almost perfectly. Like his mother, he wore grass bracelets on his thin upper arms, and his white wool had been stained with red etchings. Such etchings marked the coming winter and would disappear when he was shorn in the summer in order to endure the long heat. He was a handsome young ram who barely had the beginning of horns, as growing them late was something that ran in his family. He was very thin and small and thus had been given the task of weaving grass baskets with his sister while their big, hardy brother went out with the other stronger sheep to roll giant bales of hay.

Everyone in the clan had their jobs, had their place, each position assigned by physical strength and skill. Nodan thought his brother should have been a warrior, that perhaps having warriors would make the wolves think twice about hunting them. And indeed, his brother Donnan agreed - which was remarkable because Donnan never agreed with Nodan about anything.

Nodan's sister, however, was always in agreement with him, though where he hesitated to act, she always propelled him into action. One night, after a very tense supper where his father and grandmother nagged him to high heaven about Princess Sinead, Nodan went up on the thatched roof of his home and sat under the stars, forlorn and alone and unsure of what to do. Eventually, his sister Brigit joined him.

Brigit had also taken after their father in looks. She had inherited Sarid's attractive features, minus the strong jaw. Her wool was white and fluffy in all the right places, so that her curvy silhouette made the other villagers often pause to stare after her as she passed with a basket on her head, large wooden loops dangling from her ears. Nodan was terrified someone would propose to her, as he wasn't quite ready to see his little sister grow up, but Brigit seemed to have little interest in starting a family. If anything, she talked constantly about being an adventurer. She wanted to journey into the forest and discover what was on the other side. "There has to be more to the world than the Hillands!" she would cry.

Contrary to his sister, however, Nodan had no desire to see what was in the forest. Sitting on the rooftop with her, he stared out at the endless sea of trees and felt his heart shrink with fear just at the thought. He only had two options: marry the princess or venture in that wilderness and face certain death. The choice seemed easy enough. And yet, he hated the thought of denying who he was just to save his family. Like his mother, he secretly felt he would rather die, as unfair as it was to drag his family down with him.

"What's the matter, Node?" asked Brigit sadly and elbowed her brother. Her round, innocent green eyes were so forlorn for him, he felt a flush of guilt: here he was, prepared to let his family die, all so he could go on sleeping with males unabashed. It was silly, actually. For if he married the princess, he would still be able to sleep with who he pleased, he'd just have to sneak behind his wife's back. Or perhaps Princess Sinead wouldn't even care. But one problem remained: Nodan wanted nothing to do any longer with Prince Rian.

Prince Rian was a fierce, black, muscular ram with large curly horns -- who was also a stubborn, entitled jerk like his father, something which Nodan had realized too late. Nodan wanted to end things with the aggressive, possessive prince, but having to face that angry young ram's displeasure was horrifying to him, and if he married Rian's sister, he would be Rian's slave the rest of his life. The prince, believing Nodan belonged to him, would come to him each night and have his way with him. . . . and there would be nothing he could do about it whatsoever. If he spoke up, no one would take his word over the prince's, and the prince would likely find some way to punish him for it. He would be helpless. And knowing he had gotten himself into such a predicament was so humiliating and shameful to him that he never told his family, not even Brigit. He was ashamed that he had fallen for someone so unapologetically abusive of his person, and he wanted to put as much space between himself and the prince as possible.

Sitting there, looking into his sister's round eyes, it finally occurred to Nodan that there was one simple solution to his problem: he was the one causing his family strife, so he was the one who should venture into the forest. He looked at those trees and wondered if he had the courage. He didn't know how to fight. He barely knew how to build a fire. He could knit his own clothes, could cook a fine stew, and could weave a mean grass basket, but how long would those skills last in the world of the wolves? The forest was their territory and always had been.

Nodan thought of the alternative, of what would happen should he venture to the longhouse where the chief's family lived. He would make clumsy love to Sinead, who was hot and eager for him, and then as Sinead lay sleeping, Rian would come, cover Nodan's mouth with a rough paw, and force his way under Nodan's tail. Nodan clenched his tail against his backside just thinking about it, and he averted his eyes when his sister looked at him anxiously.

"I'm going to gather firewood, Brig," Nodan grimly announced.

Brigit's ears went forward. "What? You can't go alone! I'll go with you --!" She bit her lip when Nodan grabbed her arm, and her ears went down, her green eyes filled with tears as he said firmly to her, "No. It's dangerous. Promise me you'll never go into the forest!"

A tear slipped over Brigit's cheek, and she didn't answer.

Nodan gave his sister's arm a slight shake and repeated, "Promise me!"

Brigit miserably licked her lips and dropped her eyes as she muttered, "I promise . . ."

Nodan released his sister in relief, and without warning, she fell into his arms. Her small body shuddered with tears, and Nodan held her miserably, stroking her wooly mane and shushing her. "It's alright, Brig," he whispered.

"No, it's not!" she moaned, voice muffled against his shoulder. "You're going to leave us! The wolves will kill you!"

"Maybe they won't," said Nodan with a wretched shrug. "Maybe I'll avoid them, live on my own in the forest --"

"Oh! Don't be stupid!" Brigit wailed.

Nodan looked at the forest and thought he didn't have a choice.