Apollo's Raven

by Linnea Tanner

“Then who?”

  When Marcellus regarded Catrin, the air seemed to suck out of the room and the chamber darkened. He could see fear in her big beautiful eyes. Though he should not care about what happened to her, he could not bear the thought of sex-hungry soldiers harming her at the camp. The chamber fell into a deadly silence.

  Then Vala slowly scuffed her chair back, stood, and pointed to herself. Though she spoke with a strong accent, her message was clear. “As firstborn daughter and king’s champion, I will do it.”

  Challenged to do likewise, Marcellus impulsively stood up and blurted, “I also agree to stay here as a hostage. And let that be an end to this bickering.” He puffed out his chest with pride until he turned to his father, who was ready to pounce on him as he mouthed: You imbecile!

  Only once had his father called him an imbecile. It was the time when he came home drunk and reeked of perfume from a married noblewoman he had bedded. He remembered thanking the gods that his father believed that he had been with a harlot. The rift with his father would have widened even further if he had found out the noblewoman was the consul’s wife.

  A loud slap on the table shook Marcellus out of his thoughts.

  “Agreed,” declared King Amren, then beamed at Vala and said, “Daughter, you bring me great pride by volunteering to take Catrin’s place.”

  “Good,” Vala said, squaring her bull-sized shoulders.

  But Lucius had the last word. “I will not have my son stay as prisoner. One of my commanders can stay here instead.”

  The king raised a hand. “Marcellus will not be treated as a prisoner, but as a family guest. He can sleep in our family’s quarters. My youngest, Catrin, can escort Marcellus around our village. She is fluent in your tongue. I commend your son for volunteering to stay with us, as I do Vala for agreeing to go with you. I consider this an equal exchange.”

  Though his face was crimson, Lucius said with a gruff, steady voice, “Allow me a word with my son before I agree.”

  Marcellus apprehensively rose from his seat and followed his father to a corner. Lucius leaned over and blasted hot air into his ear. “Imbecile! You can wallow in your own shit for overstepping my authority! We will have words about this later!”

  Lucius pivoted on his heels to face the king. “My son has made the decision to stay as hostage. He can abide with it.”

  “Then it is settled,” King Amren said, rising from the chair. “Stay for a feast that we have prepared in your honor.”

  Lucius bumped his shoulder into Marcellus, then said, “I have other duties to attend. For now, Marcellus will leave with me to gather his belongings at the headquarters, but he will return to honor the feast. Tomorrow we can discuss our next steps in private.”

  Lucius clicked his fingers at Marcellus as if he was summoning a mongrel pup.

  8

  Rhan’s Curse

  “The gods demand the scales be balanced for the life you take. If you deny my soul’s journey to the Otherworld by beheading me, I curse you to the same fate as mine.”

  Conflicting emotions whirled inside Catrin as she watched everyone leave the chamber. Although tensions had eased with the Romans, the foreboding images she had seen at the sacrificial ritual still plagued her. She did not trust any of the Romans, yet, when Marcellus passed her as he followed his father outside the chamber, an excitement fluttering in her belly bewildered her. Marcellus looked over his shoulders and gave an impish grin. Feeling as light as a butterfly, she stepped toward him with the hope they could exchange words, but a heavy hand on her shoulder stopped her.

  “Follow me,” the king ordered. “I want to speak with you in my chambers.”

  Catrin glanced at the entryway, but Marcellus had already left. She nervously followed her father into a musky chamber sparsely furnished with a candlelit table and two chairs. Anticipating hard questions, Catrin wilted under her father’s burning glare as she sat across from him.

  “What were you thinking to challenge my authority?” he demanded.

  Lowering her eyes, Catrin feigned she did not understand what was causing his ire. “What authority?”

  Amren slapped the tabletop. “You know damn well what I mean!”

  Catrin flinched and stared at her father’s fingers drumming the tabletop.

  “Not only did I have to deal with the Romans and their unreasonable demands,” he said, voice grating, “but I had to prevent a revolt from my own guards. And here is my rebellious daughter bent on saving a Roman with eyes all over her!”

  Gripping the table’s edge, Catrin struggled to balance herself on the wobbly chair. “I only did this to stop a conflict which I foresaw in omens.”

  “What omens?”

  “I … I …” Catrin looked down, suddenly hesitant to answer. Her father might become enraged if he knew of her newfound powers. She could feel his eyes on her, demanding the truth.

  “I’m baffled by your behavior,” Amren finally said. “For the first time in your life, you have overstepped my authority. Our kingdom is at stake. We need to present a united front. What did you see in your omens to make you do such a thing?”

  Catrin took a deep, calming breath before responding. “The first omen I saw was the blood moon last night. This is a sign of great changes to the kingdom as a result of a bloody battle. This morning my raven shot across the rising sun warning me that danger approached from the sea. When I saw Roman warships landing offshore, I came back to warn you about this, but it was too late. The Roman envoys were already here. When Belinus threatened to slit the young Roman’s throat, I feared his act would incite war with the Romans, and the omens would be fulfilled.”

  “Was that your raven that swept into the chamber during the ritual?”

  Catrin’s voice quavered. “Well … it might have been.”

  Amren regarded Catrin a moment and his eyes turned upward, as if seeking an answer. Then his face became ashen and his eyes grew big. His brooding silence confused Catrin; the king was normally a man of action and words.

  “Father, what is wrong?”

  He tapped his fingers and muttered, “The raven. The curse. Is it possible? Has it begun? Why did I not see this? Agrona should have known. Oh, gods! Oh, gods below—” His words crumbled into broken mumbles.

  The sudden anguish on her father’s face disquieted Catrin about her raven. Not sure why it had provoked such a strong reaction, she blurted, “Is my raven a curse? At the ritual today, Mother said it was.”

  Amren gripped the chair’s armrest as if reining in some troubling thought, and he said, “Something happened many years ago, which I never discussed with you. Someone cast a curse on me. I thought the gods had sent a favorable sign that the spell had been lifted, but after witnessing what happened at the ritual today, I’m not so sure.”

  A heavy pain hooked in Catrin’s heart when her father sunk his head into the palm of his hands.

  “Oh, Father … I never asked for the raven’s powers.”

  Amren jerked his head up, “What powers?”

  Catrin looked at her shaky hands, afraid to alienate her father if she revealed the magical forces she culled from her raven.

  Amren lightly touched her arm. “I’m not angry with you. Tell me what the raven has shown you.”

  More reassured, she replied, “My raven reached out to me. I can sense everything it sees and hears. When it flies over the white cliffs, I see the grassy hilltop and ocean beneath me. It was through the raven’s eyes I observed warships moored in the bay beyond the cliffs. Hundreds of soldiers were settling into camps. This is where I observed Marrock talking with the Roman envoys. The raven warned me they were conspiring to attack us. It is difficult to explain how I sensed this. It was as if I entered its mind and could see things more clearly. Sometimes I’m not sure if I am dreaming or not.”

  “Explain what happens when you enter this cre
ature’s mind.”

  “A burning pain shoots up my arm.” Catrin grimaced and stroked her forearm. “Then a light flashes in my mind. After that, the world looks different to me. I can see all around, not just in front of me. There are purple hues I’ve never seen with my human vision. Once I visualized falling into a crevice where a strong force pulled me into a light tunnel. Then I plunged toward a rainbow arch where animals and humans appeared and disappeared on its surface. In the middle of this arch was a black portal. Just before I burst through it, I leapt out of the raven’s mind.”

  “How do you know this is a portal?” the king asked.

  Catrin shrugged. “I … I never thought about it. I just knew that, if I broke through this, I would enter into another realm. I might not get back to my world.”

  Amren quietly rubbed his chin for a moment. “This place was also described by a Druidess.”

  “Agrona?”

  “No, my former queen, Rhan. Did Agrona teach you how to summon the raven’s magic?”

  “No, the raven showed me.”

  Amren narrowed his eyes and frowned. “You are dealing with divine forces from the Otherworld. Rhan told me she summoned her magic from the other side of a portal, but she never told me how. She could prophesy, shape-shift, and call on nature’s forces to help me overcome my enemies. Once, when I was nearly defeated in battle, she summoned Taranis to hurl lightning bolts at my enemy. My rival was struck down dead along with several of his warriors. His remaining troops fled and I won the battle. Alas, Rhan abused these powers.”

  The wrinkles around Amren’s eyes crinkled deeper, as if he had dredged up a demon from his past.

  A twinge of panic hit Catrin that she could release some unforeseeable evil if she did not learn how to control her raven’s powers.

  “How did Rhan abuse these powers?”

  The king gazed at the candle and recounted, “Trystan, then a Regni boy of fourteen under my ward, overheard Rhan conspire with other nobles. She promised to give them riches if they would assassinate me and transfer my sovereignty over to her. She bragged about being able to change moments in everyone’s life. If they aided her, she would change their destiny for the better.” Amren sniggered. “What hubris she had. A boy instead changed her fate.”

  “What happened?”

  Amren waved his hand through the candle flame as if the burning pain eased the discomfort of what he was about to reveal. “When Trystan told me about Rhan’s treachery, I had to make my most difficult decision as a ruler—mete out punishment on those I counted as friends and on someone I loved. I beheaded every noble who conspired against me. Their spiked heads were displayed along a pathway which led to my trial by fire. When my feet did not burn after walking barefooted on hot stones, I knew the gods concurred with the punishment I would exact on Rhan for treason. Before I removed her head, I mercifully allowed her to speak, a decision I will regret until my dying day.”

  Amren stared at Catrin. She struggled to remain stone-faced, hiding her revulsion of the king’s acts of mercilessly striking down his friends and queen. How could she reconcile the brutal actions with the love and admiration she had for him?

  The king’s gaze shifted to the burning candle, as if looking for some kind of succor as he continued his grim tale. “I remember every word of Rhan’s curse as if she said it today. ‘The gods demand the scales be balanced for the life you take. If you deny my soul’s journey to the Otherworld by beheading me, I curse you to the same fate as mine. I prophesy your future queen will beget a daughter who will rise as a raven and join your son, Blood Wolf, and a mighty empire to overtake your kingdom and to execute my curse’. ”

  He sighed ruefully. “The raven is you.”

  9

  King’s Charge

  “I didn’t understand what this meant until you told me about the inscription on the dagger that foretold Marrock would ally with Rome.”

  Catrin gasped, pushed her chair back and rose from the table. Rapidly breathing, she rasped, “No, no, Father, you are wrong! I would never betray you. I love you.” Blood rushed from her face and the room whirled around her. Unsteady, she staggered and bumped against the table.

  Amren rushed to her side, cradled her in his arms, and reassured her saying, “Don’t fret, daughter. It’s all right. Sit back down. I need to show you something.”

  Catrin gingerly lowered herself in the chair and gazed at the candlelight before shifting her eyes to the back corner where her father picked up a wooden box from a shelf. When he set it on the table before her, she studied the handcrafted oak case, the size of a jewelry box. The panels were inlayed with black and white ravens. A brass-winged deadbolt clasped the lid to the front panel. She assumed it was where her father kept his prized gold torcs and gemstone rings.

  The king took out a key from a drawstring pouch attached to his belt and inserted it into the deadbolt. He raised the lid, revealing a lapin-crested dagger on gold brocade fabric. He reverently lifted the dagger with both hands and kissed the blade. After he set the weapon on the tabletop, he sat across from Catrin and pointed to the inscription on the blade. “I had Rhan’s curse recorded on the blade to deflect all misfortune from me. By the time you were born, the etching of the inscription began to blur, giving me hope the curse could be reversed. On the night Marrock abandoned you in the woods and you were found alone with the raven, the inscription transformed.”

  Amren’s forefinger skimmed over the etched Latin lettering as he read the words aloud. “The gods demand the scales be balanced for the life you take. At the time your daughter rises out of Apollo’s flames as a raven with the powers of Ancient Druids … Blood Wolf will ally with the Roman Empire.”

  Catrin rubbed the rough edging of what appeared to be missing words. “Some of the words are blurred. What does this signify?”

  Amren shrugged. “I’m not sure. It’s as if the curse is still re-writing itself. What I know for certain is that something happened on that day you were with Marrock that altered the inscription. As you can see, some words disappeared while others were added. That is why I believe the gods have a divine plan for you.”

  Catrin tried to grasp what her father just said. “What plan?”

  “I don’t know yet.” The king set the dagger back in the box. “Mortals don’t always understand the ways of the gods and goddesses. Our lives are fated by their whims. When I showed this to Agrona, she told me that she could teach you how to control these divine forces to reverse Rhan’s curse.”

  A foreboding chill in the chamber made Catrin tremble. “Agrona’s black magic frightens me.”

  The king set the dagger case on the tabletop nearer Catrin. “Forces can be used for either good or evil. Only Agrona can show you how to balance these forces.”

  Catrin rubbed the raven inlay on the front panel of the dagger’s case, contemplating what her father just said. How could she possibly reverse a curse cast by a powerful Druidess? She muttered, “I … I don’t have that kind of power.”

  Amren leaned on his elbows. “You must have these powers, or will soon have them. The altered curse says you fly out as a raven with the powers of the Ancient Druids. It no longer says you will join with Marrock and overthrow me. This gives me hope.”

  “I’m not sure if it was me who altered the curse or someone else,” Catrin said. “My mind is like a blank slate on what happened that day with Marrock. It troubles me that the curse now identifies the empire as Rome.”

  The king exhaled a heavy breath. “The Roman visit is a bad sign. Never before has the Roman emperor sent a senator to convey his demands. Every muscle in my body twitches with mistrust. After fighting in the Roman auxiliary in Germania, I know of their tactics to divide foes for their advantage. The senator has forced my hand to re-negotiate another contract to wed Mor and Adminius. The only way I can discover why Cunobelin betrayed me and befriended Marrock is to meet h
im face-to-face.”

  Amren held his hand over the candle flame and pulled it away. He inspected his reddened palm as he continued. “I have every reason to war with Cunobelin for his betrayal, yet as king, I must first consider my people’s well-being.” His gaze shifted to Catrin. “You will learn as you mature, a rival has no qualms about stabbing you with one hand while extending the other in friendship. I don’t trust Cunobelin. He is a coward going behind my back to plead Marrock’s case to the Roman emperor. I know he wants more of my jurisdiction transferred to Adminius as part of the marital pact. I must swallow my pride and yield to his demands to maintain peace. Cunobelin must, in return, drop his support of Marrock’s claims. If Marrock ever becomes king, he would surely slaughter everyone in our family and mistreat my people. I can’t let this happen. This is a matter I must address, but there are other ways you can help me during this difficult time.”

  “What can I do?” Catrin asked, emboldened by her father’s confidence in her.

  “Try to remember how you may have altered the curse. You have been blessed with the gift of foresight. If you can see the future, you can change the future. You could help me counter our enemies by knowing their next moves.”

  “What about Vala and Mor, don’t they have this ability?”

  “They don’t.” Amren frowned. “There is a reason for this, but it is best I tell you at another time when you are older and wiser about human frailties.”

  Catrin knew she should not broach the topic of her sisters further, yet she needed to understand more about the unwieldy forces she struggled to control. “Sometimes … I am afraid of what is happening to me. I feel as though … I am going mad. At one moment, I’m in my body; the next instant, I am in the raven’s head. I first connected with the raven after Marrock left me alone in the forest. It still frightens me that I cannot remember what he did.”

  Amren growled, “That monster will pay a heavy price for all the vile deeds he has done.”