Etain produced a dark bottle of oil. Uncorking the bottle, the clean alluring scent of etheria oil pervaded the room. “Raise your arms, child, and hold still!” She ordered, as she massaged the oil all over Kaitla’s body until her skin glistened and shimmered in the lamplight. While Etain oiled her body, Elsbet combed out her wet hair, massaged it thoroughly with more essence of etheria then toweled it dry and combed it out once again.
“Now close your eyes and hold still while I dress ye for your first meeting with your father!” Etain’s tone leaving no room for argument; Kaitla immediately obeyed. A brisk whirlwind surrounded her oiled and perfumed body, then ceased almost as quickly as it had begun.
“Now ye may look,” Etain ordered proudly. Kaitla opened her eyes and gasped. Etain had chosen a gown of iridescent white, glowing and shimmering with the slightest movement of Kaitla’s body. The bodice was tight then flared into a wide skirt that barely skimmed the ground. The dropped waist was girded with a gold braided belt resting gently on her hips and drawing to a point at the front. The gold braided neckline proudly displayed the rounding of Kaitla’s small firm breasts. The full-length sleeves were tight, ending in points with loops fitting over the middle finger of each of her hands. Her hair was gathered high upon her head, caught up in a golden band that also ran across her forehead. Masses of curls tumbled down from the drawn up mass, cascading down her back in a red-gold waterfall. The crystal of the water sprites glistened between her breasts while golden spirals dangled from her ears. Upon closer observation, Kaitla even noticed Etain had taken the time to redden her lips and accent her huge golden eyes with color. “Now ye are ready to meet with your father,” Etain declared as she nodded with satisfaction.
Quickly turning to Elsbet, Etain began shooing her from the tent, “Run, child, and prepare yourself…for ye will be expected to see the Laird as well.” As Elsbet obediently left the tent, Etain turned once more to Kaitla; “Ye may wait in the chamber just inside the main tent…I’ll meet ye there before ye’re presented to Himself.” Smiling at Kaitla’s worried face, she nodded once more in her direction, “’Twill be fine, lass…I promise ye.” Then she disappeared from the tent, to tend to her own preparations before finally presenting Kaitla to her father.
~*~
Inside the entrance to the main tent was a small curtained off section providing a small foyer for guests. Standing in this small alcove, Kaitla cautiously peeped through the curtains trying to catch a glimpse of her unknown father. All of this pomp and circumstance had her stomach tied into knots, but Etain insisted this is the way things were done. Etain had also shrewdly added that being the Laird’s daughter…Kaitla had best get used to attending such functions.
“Kaitla,” Etain whispered as she entered the tent.
“What!” Kaitla jumped visibly, her pounding heart thumping in her trembling bosom.
Hugging Kaitla’s shoulders with a reassuring squeeze, Etain apologized for startling her, “I’m sorry, lass, it’s verra nearly time. Are ye ready?”
“As ready as I’m going to get,” Kaitla muttered nervously under her breath. Ignoring Etain’s disapproving glare, she once again peeped through the curtains.
Upon the arrival of the unexpected visitors, the center chamber had been quickly transformed into a great meeting hall. A raised platform had been fashioned at the head of the room containing four cushioned chairs, massive in size and upholstered in deep purple velvet. On the floor either side of the platform, two additional chairs had been strategically placed perhaps signifying slightly lesser rank. Gilded tables lined the walls behind the chairs, laden with silver and gold goblets and large crystal decanters of a deep ruby colored liquid sparkled in the torchlight. The floor of the tent had been covered with elaborate carpets woven with the infinite Celtic knots, the gold of the endless knots seemed to shimmer and move against the dark purple background. Several chairs lined the sides of the room but from all appearances, most of the individuals would be standing to view the honored guests.
Spying a small movement to the side of one of the tables, Kaitla’s interest perked as a laughing young man entered the room then respectfully held the curtain aside for the entrance of an older man. “That’s your father, lass,” whispered Etain, as she joined Kaitla at her peephole.
The man whom Etain had identified as Kaitla’s father moved slowly towards one of the great chairs on the dais, avidly listening to the conversation of the vibrant young man at his side. Tall with a heavy build, the Laird’s bearing was regal and quite graceful for his size. Hair and beard were streaked with white, but the golden eyes sparkled with vitality and renewed life at the prospect of his child’s return. He was clothed in tight fitting black breeches and high boots that resembled the ones Kaitla had worn while traveling. The white silk shirt was open at the throat, the ballooning sleeves cuffed at the large weathered hands. A magnificent sash of royal purple and gold was pinned at the shoulder with a large moonstone brooch. The wrap encircled his body then hung down his back from his left shoulder like a cape, billowing gracefully as he moved to his chair. Her father was quite a striking man.
“I canna believe it!” Etain gasped, gripping Kaitla’s arm tightly.
“What?” Kaitla whispered while still peeping through the slightly parted curtains.
“The young man talking to yer father is Macvorn.” Etain spoke the young man’s name with reverence as though it should have some meaning to Kaitla.
Kaitla merely stared stupidly at Etain, eyebrows raised in question.
“Macvorn is the direct descendent of the first of the Auld Ones. He is heir to one of the most powerful clans of the realm. Cuchailard borders his lands. Macvorn rarely appears outside of his own land. ‘Tis said he prefers to be alone, constantly refining his spiritual gifts and pursuing higher levels of enlightenment,” Etain explained patiently as though speaking to a child.
Spying through the curtains with renewed interest; Kaitla eyed the young man seated beside her father with curiosity. Macvorn was pleasing to look upon but from Etain’s description, Kaitla really expected something more extraordinary then the handsome young lad animated in conversation with the Laird of Cuchailard. Tall and well muscled, it was hard to imagine Macvorn spent all his time in purely spiritual pursuits. Sleek blonde hair pulled back from his face in a tight braid, the hazel green eyes became mere slits as he smiled and laughed throughout the conversation. His slightly long nose and high cheekbones lent an exotic air to his appearance. The colors of his clan must’ve been scarlet and black, for that was the color of the wrap that encircled his own body. His cloth attached at the shoulder with an elaborate gold brooch set with a huge black diamond. As Kaitla studied him through the curtains, he casually turned, looking her squarely in the eyes and smiling. A bold welcoming smile clearly told Kaitla her hiding place was no longer a secret.
Grabbing her arm and jerking the curtains shut, Etain huffed with exasperation, “Kaitla! Will ye please try and behave a bit more dignified!”
Widening her eyes in feigned innocence, Kaitla shrugged her shoulders at Etain and replied, “What did I do?”
Setting her jaw in firm resolution, Etain narrowed her eyes and began patting one foot as she always did when her patience had been tried to its limits.
Drawing a deep breath in preparation of a severe scolding, Etain was cut short by the entrance of Elsbet and Jared. Even though Kaitla was now fully aware of the strictly friendship status of their relationship, she still couldn’t help feeling a slight stab of jealously at the sight of the two of them together. But a quiet voice, gently crooning to her within her mind, left her reassured and smiling into Jared’s eyes.
Elsbet was lovely with her thick ebony hair gathered into a simple elegant braid trailing down her back. Her royal blue dress draped her statuesque figure beautifully with a bright yellow sash, accentuating her curving hips and trailing to the floor in the front. Glancing from Elsbet’s ample bosom to her slightly less endowed chest, Kaitla felt rather cheat
ed. Looking up into Jared’s mischievous grin, Kaitla silently informed him to behave himself and stay the hell out of her mind!
Finishing her mental recriminations, Kaitla took notice of how presentable Jared had made himself for this occasion. He was dressed in the same colors of Laird Caymber, having been adopted at an early age into the clan. The tight black breeches outlined his well-shaped legs making her palms itch to stroke his rippling flanks. The white silk shirt was open at the throat teasing her with a glimpse of the broad expanse of chest where Kaitla loved to bury her face and inhale the delicious scent of him.
Turning her back to him in an attempt to compose herself, Kaitla couldn’t help but overhear a quiet chuckle and then a whispered promise of, “Later, my own,” spoken quite clearly in her mind.
Interrupting Kaitla’s reverie, Etain whispered with a tone of authority, “Listen for me to announce ye to your father, then walk slowly and gracefully into the room.” Smoothing Kaitla’s dress nervously, Etain fussed with nonexistent wrinkles and imaginary threads, “I’ve waited thirty-five years to give ye back to your father. PLEASE behave yourself!” she finished with exasperation.
“Etain, I think you’re more nervous then I am,” Kaitla replied with a smile. She vainly attempted reassuring Etain even though her stomach was seriously threatening to empty itself of its contents. “I’ll do my best NOT to embarrass you, I promise.”
“I’m sorry, lass. I dinna mean to sound so harsh towards ye. It’s just been so long since I’ve had the opportunity to make your father happy.” Etain smiled apologetically, as she gently patted Kaitla’s arm.
Inclining her head toward a sound only she could hear, Etain turned abruptly. “’Tis time,” she announced as she quickly entered the chamber, taking her place beside the dais. The main chamber of the tent had slowly filled with excited guests from several different clans throughout the realm. The news of Kaitla’s arrival had spread rapidly…the very land itself announcing her presence by reviving from the long barren curse. Everyone was curious to see the prophesied healer and witness the reunion of father and daughter.
The traveling tents of Clan Gwynedd were filled to over-flowing with the unexpected ceremony that would normally have been held at Cuchailard Keep. But Laird Caymber was an impatient man as well as a cunning chieftain. Ravon and his clan wouldn’t expect such a ceremony in a temporary setting. This was perhaps one of the safest places to finally meet his daughter and plan the final phase of recovering the land permanently from Ravon’s evil.
A sharp clap from Etain immediately silenced the milling guests. All eyes turned to the entrance to the main chamber as Etain announced in a clear resounding voice, “Laird Caymber, I am pleased to finally present ye with your lovely daughter, Kaitla.”
Kaitla took a deep breath as the curtains parted, then slowly stepped into the main chamber. All eyes were upon her. She could feel her entire body trembling with the pounding of her heart and had to forcibly suppress the urge to turn and bolt out of the tent. Dizzy with rising adrenaline, Kaitla looked breathlessly to Etain for rescue. Nodding with a slight smile, Etain gently inclined her head in the direction of the dais, silently motioning for Kaitla to approach her father.
Cautiously, Kaitla raised her head to find herself looking into a pair of eyes just as golden as her own. Those eyes glistened with unshed tears of joy and perhaps the shadows of all the torment and loneliness of the years gone by. Laird Caymber rose from his chair slowly, meeting her halfway down the aisle, cautiously approaching Kaitla as though she were a startled rabbit about to flee. Gently, he proffered his hand and waited patiently until Kaitla grew brave enough to take it. Her small hand seemed to disappear inside his huge weathered paw, but she found it warm and reassuring. Kaitla’s tremulous smile was the final straw in tearing down the great man’s defenses. At the reflection of the crooked smile that had once been her mother’s, the tears overflowed from the great golden eyes. Pulling her quickly to his chest, Laird Caymber groaned, “My Kaitla, ye’re finally come back home ta’ me.”
Enveloped in the great bear hug, the sweet cloying scent of cherry pipe tobacco pervading Caymber’s clothing evoked dim memories Kaitla had long forgotten. Memories not of sights and sounds but more of sensations. Animals know their family members by each individual’s unique scent. This scent identified Caymber to Kaitla as her father. Even though she had been stolen away when she was but a few hours old, Kaitla had bonded with this scent when her overjoyed father had first cradled her in his arms…forever identifying it with love, comfort and father.
Stepping back to take another look at her, Laird Caymber gripped her shoulders as though afraid if he broke physical contact, Kaitla would again be lost to him. “Ye’re as beautiful as your mother, with her hair and her lovely smile. But ye have the eyes of a Danann.” Seeming to suddenly remember they stood in the center of a room full of people, Laird Caymber drew Kaitla to his side and proudly announced to the crowd, “I would like for ye all to meet my beloved daughter, Kaitla.”
At this announcement, the tent boomed with applause and cheers from the overjoyed guests. The long-awaited reunion of father and daughter had finally come to pass and perhaps now, there was some hope for the survival of the realm. Kaitla edged closer to her father, uncomfortable as the center of attention. Laird Caymber’s chest rumbled with a warm chuckle, as he tightened the arm around her waist in a protective hug, “Dinna fear, lass, they’re but overjoyed that ye’ve finally returned home.”
“There just seems to be so many of them,” she whispered, as she looked about the room at all the strange welcoming faces.
“Aye, and now I’d like ta’ introduce ye ta’ but one more.” Steering her once more toward the seats of honor at the head of the room, Laird Caymber came to a halt in front of the man Etain had earlier identified as Macvorn.
“Kaitla, I present ye ta’ Macvorn, son of Modron the First.” Laird Caymber gently pressed his hand to the small of her back inclining her towards the now standing Macvorn. Kaitla had no idea if she was supposed to curtsy, bow, or shake hands. Growing up on twentieth century earth had in no way prepared her for court etiquette in the realm of Clas Myrddin.
Rescuing her with a flashing smile and laughing green eyes, Macvorn quickly took her hand, brushing her knuckles with his lips. “I am verra pleased ta’ meet the one who has been promised to us for so long.” His rich deep voice flowed like honey, his words musically tinged with the slightest burr.
“Thank you…you’re most kind,” Kaitla replied. His hand warm and tingling seemed almost pulsing with electricity; her eyes widened as a soft white glow surrounded their clasped hands.
Laughing at her surprise, Macvorn explained, “We are both strong in the ways, you and I, but our auras seem to be quite compatible.”
“I’ve never seen that reaction before, not even with Etain.” Kaitla stared in amazement as the soft white glow gently blushed a delicate shade of pink then disappeared completely.
“Etain is quite gifted but not so powerful as yourself. Ye have been blessed with even more gifts then I or the aura would’ve changed to a shade of blue before it dissipated.” Macvorn kissed her hand once again; “I bow to your power… Mistress, and I hope that we might explore the spiritual possibilities together sometime.”
Hearing a sharp intake of breath, Kaitla glanced to the right of the raised platform to notice Jared glaring darkly at Macvorn. Jared then turned the glare in her direction, meeting her eyes and clearly thinking, “Ye belong to me alone!”
This subtle interplay did not go unnoticed by Laird Caymber or Etain. Macvorn returned Jared’s glare with a flashing smile that Kaitla took as a peace offering toward Jared; but Kaitla missed the slight narrowing of the dark green eyes, as Macvorn silently challenged Jared for Kaitla’s attentions.
Interrupted by a sudden commotion at the entrance to the tent, they each turned to witness a small grubby boy rudely pushing his way through the crowd. Finally breaking through the last group of people and
reaching the center of the room, the lad whirled in Kaitla’s direction with a dhundare in his hand. With a satanic smile, the black-eyed boy demonically cried one word, “Retribution!” and fired the dhundare directly at Kaitla’s heart.
Knocked to the floor of the tent, Kaitla couldn’t understand how she had escaped injury until looking to her side, she found Macvorn gasping for air, his life’s blood pouring from the open wound gaping across his chest.
The members of the visiting clans stood frozen in shock, unable to believe the violence they had just witnessed. Jarred from her own state of amazement by the retreating movement of the sniper, Etain quickly recovered her wits in time to capture the escaping murderer within her powerful gaze.
“Reveal yourself to me!” demanded Etain to the would be assassin. Enraged at the attempt on Kaitla’s life, Etain held the evil sniper suspended in mid air, his body paralyzed in her demanding stare. Instantly, the raggedy boy returned to the form of a filthy gnomelike man, narrow eyes darting in panic but powerless to escape. “Speak, now!” Etain roared again, angrily raising her prisoner even higher over the heads of the gaping crowd.
Squinting his eyes tightly shut; the ratty haired fiend struggled to turn his face slightly away from Etain. Clamping his thin lips tightly shut, the suspended prisoner remained silent to Etain’s demands.
As Etain’s anger grew, so did the strength of her stare. Raising her chin defiantly in answer to the challenge, Etain’s eyes barely narrowed as she methodically used her powers to slowly compress the air from the scraggly body of the filthy man. Her timing exquisite and precise, Etain would slightly release the pressure whenever the villain appeared to be losing consciousness, reviving him back to the present and her repeated question of who sent him. She felt sure the assassin’s orders had come from Ravon himself. But she had to hear it from the prisoner’s own lips before she executed the captive suspended above the crowd.
Awakening Her Soul to Destiny Page 13
