Druid Knights 1.5: The Druid Knight Tales

by Ruth A. Casie

  As within, so without.

  Guidance and love they did obtain,

  And bring a good year to their clan again.”

  ***

  Max and Ellyn firmly held on to the glowing staff. The wind swirled and blew around them. The storm ended as quickly as it began. When it cleared they stood at the great oak in Avebury. All the clans were close by staring as the great shadow moved and once again revealed the moon.

  “Welcome.” Doward came up and greeted them.

  “The Grand Master is back.” The people gathered around them. Max raised the staff for their attention.

  “We have come back from the Ancestors. They bless us for another year. Their guidance is of love and understanding.” Doward handed Max the golden scythe to cut fresh mistletoe off the great oak. Ellyn and the other women caught the delicate sprigs in a cloth they held under the oak’s branches. The families took the mistletoe and went off to prepare for the evening’s celebration.

  “They set off rather quickly,” Max said with Ellyn at his side.

  “They have been planning the celebration for some time.” Doward followed Max’s darting gaze. “For whom are you looking?” Doward asked.

  Max creased his brow. “Fendrel. I have some news for him he may find distressing. Ah, there he is.” He walked over to where Fendrel and his clan stood.

  “Grand Master, it is good to have you back.” He drew his wife in front of him. “This is my wife, Dimia, and our new son,” he said, his chest puffed out with pride.

  “Good eve to you, Dimia.” He stroked the back of the infant’s hand. The baby grabbed his finger. Max turned his attention to the new parents. “May you and your clan be blessed with good health and a full hearth.”

  “Thank you, Grand Master.” Fendrel beamed.

  “Fendrel, there is something we need to discuss,” Max said.

  “Yes, what it is?” Fendrel gave Dimia a sly smile.

  Max put his arm protectively around Ellyn. “We are to be married.”

  Fendrel and Dimia looked at each other. Both exploded into wide smiles. “Yes, we know. We’ve been preparing ever since you left. You aren’t the only one gifted with foresight.”

  “Do you also know your son’s destiny?” Ellyn asked. When she peeked at the babe she saw the man he would become, a strong leader and a great druid knight. He would make Dimia and Fendrel proud.

  Speechless, a startled expression set on the new parents’ faces.

  Ellyn looked at the wide-awake baby. “Our families will be forever tied to each other by our children. Our daughter and your son…”

  “Arik. We’ve decided to name him Arik.” Dimia kissed the baby’s head. “My little lion.”

  “Arik will continue our families,” Ellyn said.

  Fendrel stared at Max in disbelief. “Is it true?”

  “If Ellyn says our families will be tied together by our children it must be so. Come, it is time to celebrate our good fortune and our future.”

  Max, with Fendrel and Dimia, set out for the great bonfire.

  Ellyn and Doward followed behind.

  “You knew, didn’t you?” She waited but a heartbeat. “You made certain where I stood and when the portal opened you wished me a safe journey.”

  “I knew once you spent time together and learned to depend on each other you both would make the right decision. Ellyn, I know you and Max are to face challenges in the future. I will be there, always,” Doward voiced with quiet determination.

  “Thank you, Doward.” She placed her hand on his arm. “We appreciate your devotion and friendship.”

  “I cannot change what is fated but I will do what I can—”

  “That is more than anyone could ask.” There was nothing she could do about the future. It would unfold as it was destined. Unless…she shaped it. Gave it direction. Knowing what the future held allowed them to prepare for it. Every moment was precious and she would make every one count.

  She saw Max up ahead and her chest squeezed tighter with pride and love. He was her heart and together they could face anything. She glanced at Doward beside her. With a friend like him maybe the three of them could shape their destiny rather than be at its mercy. It might take a lifetime but something inside her said it was worth a try. They caught up to Max and the others.

  The Grand Master stood before the bonfire and removed his tunic for everyone to see the sacred runes tattooed across his back. He picked up a lit branch. With his other arm he gathered Ellyn to his side. She ran her hand down his back, which made his muscles flinch and his tattoos softly glow.

  He bent to her ear. “The runes warm to your touch.”

  “Perhaps it is a sign we are truly soul mates.” She kept her eyes forward.

  The sign. Of course. He smiled and raised the torch. “Is there anything else you want to tell me?”

  “Her name will be Rebeka.” She stared straight ahead, not meeting his eyes.

  “Who?” he asked, a startled expression spread across his face.

  “Our daughter. Arik’s soul mate.” A satisfied smile played on Ellyn’s lips.

  “She will be a mighty woman,” he teased.

  She looked into his eyes. “She will be the best of both of us. Now, finish the ritual. We have important things to…celebrate.” She stepped aside and planted her staff deep into the ground between them.

  He covered her hand with his. The staff glowed but only for them.

  “Hail, Guardians, we thank you for the power of air, fire, water, and earth.”

  “For all you have given to us, we thank you for the year,” the congregation replied.

  “For the new year we make this oath. We pledge ourselves to the Guardians, the Ancestors,” he looked down at Ellyn, “and to each other. May our hearths and homes be safe and strong for another year.”

  “For all you offer us, we give thanks for the year to come.”

  He tossed the torch onto the pile and listened to the people shout with enthusiasm. He gathered Ellyn into his arms. “To hearth and home, my love.”

  They sealed their pledge with a kiss.

  ***

  Fifteen Years Later

  “How can you be sleeping?” Arik tugged the cover off his foster brother. “The sun will be over the hill soon and we’ve still much to do before we leave.”

  Bran uncurled, stretched his long lean body, grabbed the blanket and wrapped himself in it. He turned onto his back with his hands behind his head.

  Arik rushed around the room they shared, gathering the last of his personal treasures. Satisfied his brother was awake, he dashed out the door, but not before he grabbed Bran’s blanket and pulled it to the floor.

  “Where’re you going?” Arik smiled at the irritation in his brother’s voice.

  “To the tower. I want to make certain I’ve left nothing behind,” he called over his shoulder and took the tower steps two at a time. When he reached the top landing he threw open the door and hesitated. His heart pounded like a racing colt, eager to push on but instead he reverently stepped inside. There was something special in this room. He had always known it, felt it deep within him. Amidst all the turmoil this morning he welcomed the tranquility.

  What did this place hold that drew him like a moth to the flame? The room was scantily furnished. Large tapestries hung on the walls giving the stone room warmth and splashes of color. The simple bed pushed against the wall was strategically positioned to give him an unhampered view of the sky when he lay in it.

  On clear nights he gazed at the heavens with its boundless stars in awe of the spectacle.

  A table, crowded with a stack of books, was in the center of the room. A chest filled with things he preferred no one touch was placed against the wall. He turned his head and glanced at the full length looking glass that stood forgotten to his right reflecting the now cold fireplace.

  He took a few more steps into the room. Calm after a morning of hurried tasks, he opened his mind and was bombarded with the smells, sights a
nd sounds around him. He inhaled deeply, intent on never forgetting the scent of the fresh herbs scattered amongst the rushes on the floor. His eyes surveyed the walls for the inscribed runes that a young druid novice sprinkled on random stones that peeked out between the tapestries. His ears filled with silence, oblivious to the whirlwind of preparations going on downstairs.

  This room had always been his sanctuary, where he came when he wanted to clear his head. Leaving it was…difficult.

  Lately he came here to weigh his future. He ran his hand through his hair. Faith, but he didn’t know how to view this new adventure. Five years—one-third of his life so far—was a long time to be away from home. He moved to the window, his hand trailing along the smooth grain of the oak table. He looked across the manor landscape past the manicured garden and to the farms and houses beyond.

  “To hearth and home,” he whispered. He faced the east and repeated the morning blessing that was said in each house throughout his father’s domain.

  “Hail and welcome,

  Thank you, Great Mother for giving us a day of peace.

  He watched as the gold rim of the sun peeked over the far hill. It would be a long time before he saw it again.

  “I thought you were gathering your things?” Bran came up beside him.

  Arik let out a deep sigh and kept his eye on a bird soaring in the dawning sky. Bran was respectful but he wasn’t one for ritual. Bran contended that man was in charge of his own destiny and spent hours discussing the subject with father and the Grand Master. He worried about his brother and what would happen while they were away. Ritual was a big part of druid life.

  “Did you ever wonder what we would become?”

  Bran remained silent.

  Arik couldn’t remember a time without Bran. They were cousins, although as far as he was concerned they were brothers in every way but blood. Seven years ago his father and Ellyn had brought Bran home from Orkney orphaned and with the fever.

  Elfrida had nursed Arik through a fever once. He’d been sure Bran would get better. Until Ellyn attended him—then he’d begun to fret. Everyone kept him away from Bran but he’d stood vigil outside the sick room door.

  When he wasn’t at his self-assigned post he had come here, to his tower, to beg the Great Mother to heal Bran. As the days had turned into weeks he’d promised The Great Mother if Bran recovered he would devote himself to her.

  Arik was a man of his word. He’d petitioned the Grand Master for a seat in the class and was accepted. Now he prepared to start his new life in service to the Great Mother. “I suppose we were destined to be druid knights.”

  “You, maybe. I’d be happy staying right here.” Bran stared out the window. Arik wondered what was on Bran’s mind. He knew it wasn’t the training that had been arranged for them. They had spoken of it often enough. “Five years underground and in the wilderness doesn’t make my heart sing. You, on the other hand,” Bran clapped his hand on Arik’s shoulder. “You were made for adventure. For as long as I can remember you always played the knight— ”

  “To rescue you, Leticia and the manor,” A satisfied grin lit Arik’s face. “Letty always cheered us on. As a dutiful younger sister should,” he added without hesitation.

  “Yes, you, Rebeka and your devoted squire.” Bran’s smile eased Arik concern. For a moment he’d feared Bran would not go with him. But that would never happen. They would be together always. “Logan is a good little brother.” Arik removed a wooden box then stepped away from his chest. “He likes swords and mud more than sitting and reading. Soon, Logan will go and train then we’ll all be Druid knights, all except Rebeka.” Arik shook his head. “I don’t think she makes a very good soldier. She doesn’t take orders very well.”

  He moved on to the table and leafed through the books. “Mother believes our destiny’s been decided by the Ancestors. We each play our part, she says. It would be comforting if it was so. It wouldn’t take much thought or effort to follow along blindly but I’d rather believe we have a hand in what we become.” He closed the last book.

  “I agree, but somehow I don’t think either of us have any say in this, at least not our schooling. You need help with those?” Bran took a few out of Arik’s arms.

  With the books in hand, they left the room. Arik shut the door without a backward glance.

  “I have to agree with you.” The boys headed back to finish packing. “Leaving it to destiny would be easy. Things will sort out,” he assured Bran even though it went against everything he believed in.

  Things never sorted out on their own.

  “But five years. In the wilderness.” They entered their room. Bran kicked the door closed and stood in the center. “What… what if they all… forget us?”

  Arik dropped the books on his bed when he saw his brother’s quivering lip. “They won’t forget us. We won’t let them.” He needed to act quickly to stem Bran’s building panic. “We’ll be terrible, so terrible that the masters will keep father informed.” He looked at Bran for any sign his brother’s dread was subsiding. Bran lips pursed as if he’d sucked on a lemon.

  “That will not do well at all. Father would thrash us to within an inch of our lives if we disgraced him.” Bran stacked the books in Arik’s traveling trunk. Bran’s trunk stood nearby locked and ready to go.

  Arik let out a deep sigh and put the last of his books into the chest. “That leaves us only one alternative. We dazzle the masters with our brilliance. They’ll tell the family about our wonderful accomplishments. The masters will have so many great things to report they won’t be able to forget us.” Arik smiled and waited. He bent and whispered in Bran’s ear. “Perhaps we’ll have such a good time we’ll forget them.”

  The absurdity of the remark sent both boys into peals of laughter

  Bran caught his breath first. “Someone’s pounding on the door.”

  “We’d better tell them to come in.” Arik finally said.

  “Come,” they said in unison, between chuckles. A sad faced Logan walked in followed by the footman who came to carry out the trunks. Arik regained his composure. For weeks Logan was adamant about going with them.

  “Father said to come downstairs. It’s time to leave. Jeannie’s prepared a basket of food for you to take.”

  “Why the long face?” Arik broke away from Bran. He stood in front of the ten year old and put his hand on his shoulder.

  Logan concentrated on the floor. Arik loved his little brother and included him whenever he could but this was one time, well, it was one time where he was only ten. “Father won’t let me go with you. I told him you needed me.” Logan looked up with pleading eyes. “I’m your squire. Squires always stay by their knight.”

  Leticia waited at the door, letting the footmen take out the chests. “The Grand Master is here with Ellyn and Rebeka. It’s time for you to leave.” She turned to Bran. “I’ll miss playing your lady of the manor.” She linked her arm in his. “You’ve been a good sport at testing my salves and remedies.”

  “Please, don’t remind me. My skin still itches from your last salve. Rather than a healing cream it nearly caused me to scratch my skin off. It was fortunate for me that Ellyn had an antidote.”

  “It looks as if we have everything.” Arik scanned the room one last time.

  “Bran and I will meet you downstairs. Bran, I have a pot for you to take with you.”

  “Let me ask Ellyn for more of her remedy,” he said, ducking from Leticia’s playful slap as they left the room.

  Logan started to follow. “Wait squire. I have need of you." The boy straightened up and turned to his big brother.

  Arik handed him the wooden case. Logan’s eyes lit up as he reached out and hesitantly took the box. “Are you certain? These are your knights and horses. The ones Father brought you from court.”

  “They’re yours now. I know you will take good care of them and use them often.” He looked at the shine in the boy’s eyes and saw not only excitement over the gift but adoration. Lo
gan, holding the box, wrapped his arms around Arik and held him tight.

  “I’ll miss you,” Logan whispered, then let out a heavy sigh.

  Arik squeezed him. “I’ll miss you, too. But you’ll see. In no time we’ll be home.” Arik released the boy and put his arm around his shoulder. They went downstairs to meet the others.

  “Well, everyone is here now.” His father rubbed his hands together. His mother stood nearby wrapped in her shawl and a melancholy malaise.

  They said their good-byes to Jeannie and graciously took the hamper as she dabbed at her eyes with the end of her apron. “And don’t eat it all before you get onto the road.”

  Bran hefted the basket. “We couldn’t eat all this in a month.” He hugged her and kissed her forehead. She held him tight for a moment longer.

  “You be good, do you hear.” She straightened his shirt and coat. “Don’t go running around making trouble.” She brushed away the stray hair that always fell into his eyes.

  “I’ll make you proud. I promise I will. You promise you won’t forget me?” Bran stood straight and tall.

  Jeannie pulled his face close to hers. “What a thing to say.” She held him tight one more time. Then shoed him away. “Now get along. Don’t keep your father and the Grand Master waiting.”

  Ellyn stood ready to say her good-bye. She had already spoken to Arik. “It’s hard to believe you’re the same boy who we brought back from Orkney. You’ve grown tall and strong.”

  “Thank you.’ He didn’t know what else to say.

  “Your strength is not only physical. You have a good mind. Don’t be afraid to use it. And Bran,” she held him close, “know that you will be missed.” Her voice was a whisper.

  Ellyn had always known his inner thoughts. She’d been close by, cheering him on and listening to his great plans. He pulled away and kissed her cheek and noticed she looked so sad.

  “Go,” she smiled taking his arms away from around her. “Dimia is waiting for you.”

  Fendrel got into the wagon with Maximilian. “Come boys,” he called.

  Dimia stood on the manor steps. She gathered Arik and Bran into her arms. “You may be far away from me but never far from my heart. I’ll miss you both.” She let them go but not before she gave each a kiss.