Highland Raven

by Melanie Karsak

  Epona directed her mare up the hill. When we reached the top we found ourselves at the shoreline. Far below us was a sandy shore and dark blue water. It was beautiful. I looked behind me to see the horizon rolling with fat hills.

  “Look. There is a ship,” Epona said and pointed out toward the water.

  We dismounted.

  Epona plucked some grass. The wind took it and pulled it behind us. “We have a west wind.” She then took my left hand and lifted it above our heads. She raised her other hand. I mimicked her.

  “We call you, wind of the west, wind of love and fertility, and we offer you our love and respect in exchange for your power.”

  We both stilled, and the wind continued to blow around us.

  “We ask for a fair wind if those upon that ship are friends to our land and country. If those upon that ship mean to do ill to our kinsmen, then whip up your strength and banish them from the sea!”

  I channeled my power into Epona’s words, closing my eyes, and let my body feel the wind around me. At first it blew erratically, but then began to blow strong and steady. A firm, good wind pushed from the land to the sea, lending its power to the ship’s sails. In my mind’s eye, I could see the wind whipping around me, sparkling gold.

  Epona brought our hands down.

  I opened my eyes. “Friend,” I said as I looked out at the water.

  Epona nodded and pulled a wine flask from her saddle bag. She took a long drink and handed the skin to me. We rested quietly, and after a while decided it was time to turn back.

  My mind was lost to my thoughts as we rode back. Epona, too, was quiet. I couldn’t help but wonder if she was thinking about her wild boy. Who had Epona been before this place?

  I sighed heavily. So much was happening. I knew I had come to the grove for training, but I had not expected…well, all of this. It was far beyond any girlish expectation. I felt awed by the world that had opened itself to me. I felt strength under my skin I’d never felt before. That strength made me feel powerful. I felt alive. I felt anger and lust. It was almost like pieces of myself were collecting themselves back to me once again. When I was with Sid, I felt more solid. Banquo ignited feelings I had only ever dreamed of. He was my wild boy, a druid who walked between the worlds. I wanted to be with him…and with Sid. I wanted there to be a place, a world, where we could all be together. I wanted to feel Cerridwen, and the raven wings, and be that part of myself living just under my skin. What would that place look like? What would that life look like? If my visions were true, that life would look like the life of Queen Boudicca, and it was a life I’d already lived.

  Chapter 16

  I was not visited again by the Wyrd Sisters all that summer, but I remembered my visits to them and began practicing their art. I sought visions in the flames or in the cauldron, looking for what I knew and what I didn’t. Mostly I sought Sid, when she was away from the coven, Madelaine, and Banquo. Once I found Madelaine at Malcolm’s court, the King looking at his half-sister with disinterest. Sid was harder to find. She always appeared like a shimmering silhouette surrounded by hues of green. There were people, glimmering people, near her, laughing, but I could never quite make anyone out. When I found Banquo, I could not see where he was, but around him I often saw darkness and fire. Sometimes I would catch glimpses of the black-haired man, usually at the side of his blond-haired warrior giant friend and at sea. Despite the Wyrd Sister’s words about him being my King, my curiosity had faded. I wanted Banquo, not a phantom.

  Thora was growing into her fat little feet, and with the passage of time, she had grown several inches. As Banquo had mentioned, I began teaching her how to track. I started with little things, just hiding objects in my cabin and letting her find them. It wasn’t very long until she seemed expert at the task.

  Thora and I were not the only ones growing, changing. It was harvest season. Just days before the autumnal equinox, I woke to find Gwendelofar crying. She was curled up on her bed.

  “What’s wrong?” I asked.

  “Oh, Cerridwen,” she whispered. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to wakes you.”

  I slid out of my bed and on hers. I put my arm around her. “What’s happened? Should I get Epona?”

  Gwendelofar shook her head.

  “What is it, sister?”

  “I’m pregnant,” she whispered. “I want the child, but I’ll have to leave, and I have nowhere to go.”

  “The father? It’s…Sigurd?”

  She nodded glumly. “Oh Cerridwen, think I loves him, but I don’t know where he is or if he loves me! My child is a Beltane babe!”

  Gwendelofar was shaking. I took her hands. “Sigurd will be here for the harvest festival any day now. Talk to him. Tell him your feelings. Perhaps he feels the same. The child is merry-begot, which means it will be a special child. Perhaps Sigurd will want to raise the child with you.”

  “I don’t know,” Gwendelofar said sadly.

  On Beltane, any child conceived is a child of the Stag God, the Father God, the wild man of the forest, not the human father. The human father could not claim and had no right to a merry-begot babe. This also meant the father had no responsibility toward that child. It would solely be on choice, both Sigurd’s and Gwendelofar’s, if they should raise the child together.

  “Well, soon you will learn. If not, you will raise the child yourself. Madelaine can find a place for you and your child in her household.”

  “Really? You’re sure?”

  “Yes,” I said without hesitation. Knowing Madelaine, I knew I didn’t even have to ask. And with Alister gone, it would be a safer place. Or at least I hoped.

  “Fate gives me a mixed blessing,” she whispered, wiping away a tear.

  “That’s something fate likes to do,” I answered. I thought of my own mixed blessings—how much I loved Madelaine, but how much I wished I could have been raised by my own parents. But then I remembered, when it had been put to the question, I had once chosen Madelaine over Boite.

  That cold winter eve when I had found my father in the snow, we rode back to Alister’s castle, surprising an unsuspecting Madelaine. My father convinced Tavis and I not to announce his arrival. He wanted to surprise his sister.

  “This way, father,” I told him, trying to hide the excitement in my voice as I led my father down the hallway to the small sitting room where Madelaine and the others sat sewing beside the fire.

  I kept turning again and again to look at him. He was so enormous, like a giant bear in his furs. He smiled kindly at me. Every time I looked at him, I searched his face for myself. And every time, be it the shape of his nose, the line of his brow, or his eyes, I found traces of myself there. When I was with my father, it made me feel like I actually belonged somewhere, to someone. I loved Madelaine, but she was not truly my mother.

  “Wait here,” I told my father as I pushed open the chamber door.

  Madelaine looked up at me. “Corbie, I’ve been worried. Where did you fly off to, Little Raven?”

  “I went to get a present for you.”

  “For me?” She set down her sewing and looked at me. “What do you have today? Let me see!”

  “It’s quite large,” I told her. “Close your eyes.”

  The other ladies in the room suddenly became interested.

  Madelaine giggled. “All right, my dear,” she said then closed her eyes.

  I opened the door to let my father in. I put my finger to my lips, shushing the other women in the room who all gasped when I led Boite inside. I led him to stand in front of Madelaine.

  “Ready?” I asked.

  Madelaine wrinkled her nose. “I smell snow.”

  “Open your eyes,” I told her.

  When Madelaine opened her eyes, a shocked expression crossed her face. She dropped everything and jumped up, wrapping her arms around her brother’s neck. Boite had to hold her by the waist to keep her up.

  “My brother!” she said excitedly. “My brother! Why have you come? Is anything the m
atter?”

  Taking their cue, the waiting women picked up their belongings and left.

  “Here, come close to the fire,” she told him, pulling a chair near the hearth. She pushed him into the seat then began unlacing his boots. “You’re chilled to the bone. Warm your feet by the flames. Corbie, get your daddy a mulled wine,” she told me, sending me scrambling. “Is it Malcolm? Has he died? Alister? He was at court. Has anything happened to him? Is war coming?”

  “Sister, sister,” Boite said with a laugh. “Peace, sister. I do come with family news, but the news is fair,” he said.

  I poured a mulled wine from the copper decanter sitting by the fire and handed it to my father. He took the drink from me then kissed my hand.

  I stood behind Madelaine and watched.

  “I’ve a new wife,” he said then.

  Madelaine stopped for a moment, her hands growing still. She didn’t look up.

  Boite drank his wine. “Northern girl. A daughter of Moray. She’s quite young. I’ve got her at Malcolm’s court. I’ve come…I’ve come to see if Gruoch would like to join her stepmother.”

  For a moment, Madelaine said nothing. “If she would like?”

  I stared at both of them. What did he mean he had a new wife? Would he really take me to Malcolm’s court? Would I really join the royal household? Certainly, I deserved to be there as much as anyone. But how could I leave Madelaine?

  “I’ve no wish to break the hearts of the two women I love most in this world. It is Gruoch’s choice. I would not abuse either of you by forcing my will on the matter.”

  Boite looked from Madelaine to me. His eyes were soft. The awkwardness of the situation struck all of us. My father wanted me. I could live the life of a royal girl, be exposed to all the niceties of court rather than the debauchery of this castle. I could be near him. And in exchange, I would leave the woman who raised and loved me.

  Madelaine turned at looked at me. “Don’t answer now. Think it over,” she said then looked back at her brother. “Tell us about your new wife,” she said then, pulling off Boite’s boots.

  “Aedha. She’s a wee lass. Pleasant spirit, but not hardy stock. I had expected more from Moray. She is sweet and kind.”

  Madelaine nodded. “Is she one of us?” she asked. One of us. Madelaine used the phrase from time to time. One of us, a follower of the old ways, those who carry on the belief in the ancient things.

  Boite shook his head. “There are not so many of us left, dear sister.”

  I stared at them. My father wanted me. He wanted me with him. My heart sung. But then I looked at Madelaine. I had grown up under her watchful eyes, felt her loving kisses. Madelaine had always put me first. How many times had she taken a blow from Alister then straightened her back and attended to my needs with no thought for herself. There was nothing worse I could have done to Madelaine than leave her.

  “I’ll stay with Madelaine,” I blurted out, interrupting their conversation.

  They both turned and looked at me.

  “Are you certain?” Madelaine asked. “The court life would be a good life for you. You would be able to get to know everyone, grow up amongst the royal ladies, alongside your cousins.”

  I shook my head. “I’ll stay here,” I told Madelaine whose eyes watered. I turned to my father. “If you’ll pardon me, father, I will stay with Madelaine.”

  My father smiled at me. “Praise the gods you love each other so well. As you will, Little Raven. But should you ever wish to come, you are welcome.”

  Fate. Fate had offered me my father. But my will had trumped all. I stayed with Madelaine until the Goddess called. And my father and his new bride…both were dead before I ever had the chance to make good on his invitation. If I had known that visit would be his last, I might have chosen a different fate.

  Chapter 17

  Two days after I found Gwendelofar in tears, the bards arrived to celebrate the autumnal equinox. It had been a magnificent growing season. We had a bounty of food. Every day leading up to the celebration, Druanne had us all harvesting herbs, gourds, grains, and all manner of foods. Uald brought home fish and wild game. All of our houses and the coven square were filled with flower cuttings. Gwendelofar worked with Druanne to extract plant and flower oils. She came home smelling like flowers.

  I was in the square preparing a broth with Uald when the bards arrived. Epona came out to give greetings.

  “My friends! Welcome back,” she called.

  Uald, her hands sticky with fish guts, smiled in welcome.

  I saw Sigurd scan the coven grove. Aridmis and Druanne were crossing the lawn to join us, but Gwendelofar was still inside our little cabin. She had been napping all morning. Something told me fate was going to need a little help. I set down the onion I’d been cutting, wiped my hands on the skirt of my once-lovely green gown, now worn to tatters, and went to Sigurd. I took the reins of his horse while he dismounted.

  “Ah, sister Cerridwen. Pleasure to see you again! Where is Gwen?” he asked, and I saw a glimmer of worry cross his face. Was he worried she was gone? Maybe he did care for her after all.

  “Within,” I said, motioning back to my house. “Let’s go surprise her,” I said with a smile.

  I handed Sigurd’s horse’s reins to Brant. “Lady Cerridwen,” he greeted with a smile.

  “Welcome back,” I said nicely then led Sigurd across the lawn to the little home I shared with Gwendelofar. I could feel the eyes of my sisters, who now all knew Gwendelofar’s condition, on us. I felt a bit bad for Sigurd. I knew Gwendelofar would find a happy life for her and her child with or without him, but I could feel the hopes of the women around me…and Druanne’s judgment.

  I opened the door to my house. Gwendelofar was sleeping. The sunlight was just shining through the window and cast a scattering of light on her golden hair. Her cheeks were rosy. She wore a pale pink gown, a simple thing that she had embroidered around the neckline with small blue flowers.

  I heard Sigurd gasp at the sight of her. Her belly had just begun to show.

  “I’ll go,” I whispered. “You wake her.”

  “Are you certain?” he said nervously then looked at me. He was such a hulking figure. His muscular and tattooed arms peeking out from under his tunic, his wild hair woven into braids, and he had grown a beard since we’d last seen him, as most men did as winter approached. He was the very picture of a warrior. But his voice trembled. I realized then that no matter what, the Goddess wields her own power. Love, beauty, sex, these powers belong to the Goddess in us all. Lying there the picture of beautiful, blossoming in motherhood, Gwendelofar’s power emanated from her even as she slept. Sigurd and Gwendelofar were a great match.

  I took his hand. “I am. It will please her so. May the Gods bless you both,” I said. Then grabbing a bag filled with my clothing that I had packed in anticipation of his arrival, I quietly left.

  I would stay at Sid’s house, I’d decided. I took my pack and crossed the lawn. Quietly and carefully entering Sid’s home, hoping to find no brownies within, I went inside. I was surprised to find Sid lying on her bed.

  She was a sorry sight. She was extremely dirty. Her feet were bloodied. Her hair was all tangles. He dress was torn. I had not seen her in several weeks. I dropped my pack and went to her. I lifted her wrist to feel for her heartbeat. It was faint.

  “Sid?” I whispered.

  She did not stir.

  I shook her shoulder. “Sid?”

  She groaned a little.

  “Sidhe, wake,” I whispered, kneeling down by her bed.

  She opened her eyes a little. “Cerridwen?”

  “What happened?”

  “I haven’t eaten,” she whispered.

  I rose and poured her a glass of water. Pulling her up in bed, I helped her drink. After she’d drunk the full glass, I went outside and retrieved a bowl of broth. Lifting spoonful after spoonful, I fed her.

  “It’s so hard to remember the passage of time,” she whispered.

/>   “Why are your feet in such a state?” I asked.

  “I got lost,” she answered quietly.

  “Lost?”

  “I traveled far. I wasn’t certain where I was.”

  “How long have you been back?” I asked.

  “A couple of days.”

  “A couple of days!”

  “I couldn’t…” she said and then paused. “I couldn’t rise.”

  I went to her small fireplace and stoked a fire. I set a small pot of water to warm beside it. Once it was heated, I wet a rag and began washing Sid’s cut and bruised feet. She cringed but let me clean them. When I was finished, I went to Epona’s house and retrieved salve and clean bandages. Sid had fallen asleep sitting up. I applied the salve, the sharp scent of the herbs making my nose tingle, and then wrapped her feet. She never woke.

  A few minutes later, Druanne rapped lightly on the door. “I thought I saw you come in here with bandages,” she said as she slowly opened the door. I watched her eyes quickly assess the situation. “Damn her. She is never careful enough.”

  “I’ve bandaged her feet, gotten some food into her, and her heart has quickened.”

  In a huff, Druanne turned around. “I’ll be right back,” she said, slamming the door behind her.

  Sid slept on.

  Druanne returned with a flask. “It’s a sweet mixture which will quicken her blood and wake her.” She moved to rouse Sid.

  “She has food in her belly. Let her sleep a bit longer,” I said.