“Our way of life is ending, Ciaran. We cannot stay here, at Ynys Witrin, at its heart in Britain. It will not sustain life any more.”
“Is it going to turn into a desert, do you think?”
“No. I think it is falling into a deep, deep sleep. A sleep like unto death. I think it will sleep for a long time before it is ready again to host a spiritual community.” She steadily walked across the room to the window on the other side. I was so ravenous that I tried some of the soup. It was, thankfully, delicious. “After so long - all those centuries. All that faithful service to the Old Gods, to the Mother and to the Land. It is now rejecting us.” She turned to face me. Tears were streaming down her face. “We have to leave here, the place that has been our home since - since before the Romans. Before time began, it seems to me. But the Land does not want us any more. It has been hinting at it for years, trying to encourage us to move. It has told us to leave; now it is making us go. It has no more use for us.” She was crying openly now, her head in her hands. I stood up and moved to comfort her but she stepped back, her hands out to reject me.
“No, Ciaran, please - no. Don’t touch me.” I asked why not. “I Saw… something, last time I touched you. I cannot bear to See it again.”
“What did you See?”
“I don’t - I’m not sure. It can’t be. It can’t.” She paced away again, twisting a ring on her finger.
“What can’t be?” she paced some more, reluctant to speak. I pressed her again.
“I saw you dead, Ciaran. Or mad. Or both. I’m not sure. And blood - masses of blood. Something about a Blood game.”
“The Blood Red Game?” I asked. She looked relieved as she turned back to me. A desperate, eager smile spread across her face.
“Yes. That’s it - the Blood Red Game. You know what it is? What is it?”
“I’m sorry. I have absolutely no idea. Some kind of test, I think. I have faced them before.” She was crestfallen, and turned away. “Morwenna, just seeing me dead - well, it might be upsetting, but everyone dies. I hope I was old?” I added, with a smile. She shook her head, hopelessly. “Oh, well. If that had been an old ‘me’, then you probably wouldn’t have recognised me. I had to be as you know me or you wouldn’t have known who I was.” I was gibbering a bit and I knew it. I was trying desperately to come up with something to raise her spirits.
“No, Ciaran, it was you. As you are now. But dead. Or mad. There is no hope for us. No hope.” A piece of masonry detached itself and fell to the floor with a sigh. “We daren’t use the higher levels in our houses. We have to leave.” Again I reached out to console her. Again she signalled that I should stay away. I didn’t know what to say. All I could do was watch her grief. Eventually I spoke again.
“Where will you go?”
“I’m not sure. We can’t go to Cornwall; that kingdom is Christian. Dumnonia thinks of us as witches. We could never be safe.” She was still shaking with sobs.
“What about Brittany? Across the sea?”
“The Irish church is tolerant - and it takes many recruits from us, of course. But the Frankish kingdoms are under the influence of the Romans and there is little peace between Bro Erech and the Franks.”
“What about Gwent?”
“Christian, Ciaran. You should know that.”
“The king is, his court nominally is but there are plenty of places away from Caerwent and Portskewett where the Christian writ doesn’t run.”
“If you are low profile. A community of sisters dedicated to the Mother is hardly low profile.”
“What about Mercia, then? Penda is not a Christian. He is tolerant of them and allows them to preach and convert pretty much wherever they please but he protects the old religions, both British and English.” She shook her head.
“A great change is coming to Mercia. All of us here with the Sight have seen it. Within a very short time, we believe.”
“Well, Penda is getting old,” I said. Things might change when he dies. “Strathclyde, then. Or Alba, in the north. The Picts are still loyal to the old ways.” There was nothing else in the British realms I could think of.
“Stratchclyde… Maybe. It’s a long way and it’s often cold - but maybe. I had been thinking of heading east.”
“What, to Norfolk or Suffolk? I wouldn’t advise that! They are hotheads of Christian zealotry. You can hardly pass a town that doesn’t have an abbey, or a monastery. Or both.”
“No. Further east. Across the Eastern Sea, beyond the Angle and the Saxons’ homelands. There is another sea there, and other countries, who have not heard of Britain, or Christianity.”
“The Baltic lands? If you think Strathclyde gets a bit cold, you have no idea. I spent a season there. I have never been so cold.” She heaved a heavy sigh.
“Strathclyde it must be, then. Or Alba. But we cannot stay here even till the Winter Solstice.” Another piece of the building’s fabric fell off the wall and tumbled to the floor. “The buildings will all be gone by then.”
“I shall stay and help,” I said. Morwenna shook her head.
“No, Ciaran, you cannot. I took advice from various of my sisters in this place, who have the Sight and know something of you. You are needed, far to the north. King Penda and his army need you.”
“Penda? I thought it was Elmet and the British.”
“It is in Elmet, I believe. Penda and his Mercian army are heading north to challenge Northumbria and bring them to heel. He has made alliances with the remaining British lords and tribes up there. We believe that is where you are needed. And the need is urgent. You must leave in the morning.”
“A very short visit,” I sighed. She nodded and apologised. I stood and looked at the remains of my meal. The soup was cold; the bread had reduced to blackened decay. The cheese was still fine, as was the cider. I drank the one and pocketed the other.
“I’m sorry,” Morwenna said, her hand to her brow. “We will get you something fresh tomorrow.”
“No need. I will find something on the way. I expect there will be an inn fairly close by. But I will have to have my baggage - oh, and both the horses and Wolf will have to be fed, though. Wolf likes meat. Actually, he likes most things. I suppose he hasn’t been able to catch a rabbit?”
“None to catch.” I nodded, understanding. There was a knock at the door.
“My signal to leave, I think. I will take an early night.” I opened the door and stood aside to allow Gwenhwfar to enter. She barely acknowledged me until her mother said something.
“I beg your pardon, Prince Ciaran. Oh, and you will find your most important possessions in your room. Your clothes have been washed and are being aired. Your bedroll also. But your treasure has been returned.”
“The treasure is the least of my possessions, Gwenhwfar. If you knew how often I have tried to be rid of it…” The young woman looked up sharply and then to her mother.
“No,” Morwenna replied. “It is for King Penda. You will soon be rid of it, Ciaran.”
“I would happily give it to you.”
“I’m sure you would,” she nodded. “But we have Seen and it is for Penda. His need is even greater.”
“If you are sure?”
“I am sure.”
“Mother -”
“I am sure, Gwen,” she said, quite sharply. “We are all sure.”
I closed the door behind me as I left, and walked back to my room with a mounting sense of anticipated guilt. My money bags were there, as Gwenhwfar had promised, along with the bag that contained my post-Vision medicine, as well as various herbs, healing plants and compounds. The bed had been prepared, with four posts, one at each corner, and a tented canopy above, to keep the crumbling masonry, stone and plaster from disturbing me. I needed to know what Morwenna and her daughter were talking about. I closed the door, settled myself down on the chair and watched the flames in the fire the sisters had prepared. I wasn’t going to use the Sight, as such, so I hoped to manage without delving further into my medicine bottl
e.
Watching the flames helped me to relax and to think of nothing else but the task at hand. I breathed deeply, shut my eyes and projected my mind out of my body. I was looking down on myself, sitting comfortably in my room. I looked around. What Morwenna said was even more true than she had claimed. I could See into the very fabric of the community’s buildings on Ynys Witrin; they were crumbling and collapsing. The earth itself was not going into decay; it was falling asleep. When it awoke it would sustain and nurture a community again. But that was for the future.
I found my way to Morwenna’s room and drifted in. She was talking to Gwenhwfar, who was very agitated. She was pacing around the room like a caged beast.
I don’t understand, Mother. Why will you not see the truth about him? Why do you refuse to accept reality? He is of the Darkness. He will destroy us.
He is not. He has been touched by the Darkness and it has invaded him to an extent but he is not possessed by it. It does not own him.
He is carrying an Apple of Discord.
Where?
I don’t know. I have searched his bags thoroughly. I cannot find it.
So how do you maintain that he is carrying it, if you cannot find it? You conducted that search without my permission, by the way. Do not do such a thing again.
I had to act. Who are you to tell me anything? This community is crumbling about your ears. You are mistress of a fantasy.
Gwenhwfar! That is enough of that! You complain about his arrogance and pride; yours is giving you ideas above your station.
I wonder why I don’t just leave.
Why should you leave? Just because you can’t get your own way?
He is dangerous. Bad things flow from him.
What - like you? Are you now saying you are bad or of the Darkness?
What do you mean?
You know perfectly well what I mean. He is your father.
I am the daughter of Beltane.
Yes you are, and he was the instrument by which you were born. Don’t pretend you don’t know.
Where has he been all my life? Avoiding me. Avoiding his responsibilities.
He did not know about you. At least, he did not know you are his daughter. I never told him and nor should I - you know that.
He has left a tale of blood across half the world.
He is a warrior. That’s what they do.
He kills callously. He is cold. He would have killed Aethelburth without a thought if I hadn’t stopped him.
Who is Aethelburth?
(Something inaudible)
Gwen, who is Aethelburth?
An old man from the village.
[Not that old, I thought. He was about my age.]
How do you know him?
[Inaudible mutter]
Gwen, how do you know him? Is he Aegburth’s father?
[Sullen agreement]
Why was Ciaran going to kill him?
So that he wouldn’t tell anyone about him.
Why would he?
Morgana’s Visions. He thinks they are the castles of the fairy king or something. He’s just an ignorant peasant but he didn’t deserve to die.
No, he didn’t, and you did well to stop Ciaran. But remember - he has a price on his head. He is a mercenary and there are people who have been defeated by him who mean him ill.
Why do you always make excuses for him?
He performed a huge service for us - for all of us. He risked his life to defeat a force so dark it would have destroyed us all.
So you keep telling anyone who will listen.
Gwen, believe me. If you don’t believe me, ask anyone else who was around at the time. We could all feel the darkness growing - he defeated it. He risked his life to do so. He is risking his life again.
And he has been your lover, more than once.
Who I take to my bed is my own affair, as whoever you take to your bed is yours, even if it is the son of an ignorant Saxon peasant - your words, not mine.
You defend him because he is your lover.
I defend him because your attacks on him are unreasonable. He is not perfect but he is not seeking to destroy us - rather, the opposite.
The girl sat down, heavily. Miserable in her turn.
I know there is something wrong - I know it. My Gift is not as well grown as yours but I know I can sometimes see more than you do. As soon as he arrived, I knew there was something wrong. I tell you, he is carrying an Apple of Discord. He has hidden it somewhere.
Did you not take his clothes as well, while he was having a bath?
Yes. Yes. And no, I couldn’t find it there, either. But mother, something awful will happen if he delivers it. I know it will mean the end of our way of life.
Our way of life is ending anyway. Look around you.
Are they not connected?
No. [She shook her head, emphatically]. This started happening years ago. I simply didn’t want to see it.
[She walked round the desk and stroked her daughter’s hair.]
Gwen, he is not evil, although he has done wicked things. He is not the darkness, although the Darkness has touched him. He has survived and overcome it. Try and think better of him; he has earned our thanks - all of us, even the ignorant Saxon peasants. And if you cannot bring yourself to do that, at least pray and offer to the goddess for his well-being. And improvement, if you wish.
I will try. I will try, Mother. I hope for our survival, even now.
You have my permission to hope for the best. I, however, must plan for the worst. Go on, now. Go and make an offering that Prince Ciaran be not as bad as you think he is!
The girl got up. She embraced her mother and left. When the door was closed, Morwenna looked up to where my spirit was observing.
There is an old saying that eavesdroppers never hear good of themselves. You should not have done that without permission, Ciaran, but I understand why you did.
Will Gwenhwfar have noticed?
No. Her Gift will be very strong - that comes from you, I have no doubt - but she has not yet completed her training. You cloak yourself without even thinking of it. I was aware of the cloak and knew it for what it was. She did not notice.
I would like her to think better of me.
Give her reason to do so. But don’t overdo it! That would make things worse.
Morwenna -
What?
I am not carrying an Apple of Discord.
Gwen thinks you are but she hasn’t been able to find it. Maybe you, yourself, are the Apple? You have certainly caused discord between me and my daughter.
I’m sorry. I did not intend to.
Huh. Well, go and have that early night you promised yourself. You should be on your way as soon as you can in the morning.
I withdrew. I was spared the full severity of the normal Vision headache but the exertion of any Power always exacts a price. I felt very tired and I had a thudding pain in my head. A draft of the medicine dealt with the latter; sleep would do the same for the former.
Chapter Sixteen
Elmet
Early next morning - just as the Sun was rising - I was packing up my belongings, my bags and baggage, sword and all the sorcery I was supposed to possess. It was a quiet dawn but I could hear a lot of hustle and bustle in the buildings of the community. The noise almost drowned out the sound of pieces of masonry, brickwork, mortar and plaster falling off the walls, gates and arches. If it was delayed much longer, the community itself would have nothing left to leave.
Morwenna arrived just as I was about to mount Sage. Wolf beat his tail, with a mournful hope. He looked at me, guiltily. I shook my head. He looked downcast.
“I could not let you go without saying goodbye.”
“Do not leave it too long before you follow, Morwenna. I’m afraid this place will not last out the month.” She nodded and a tear welled up in her eye.
“Good fortune accompany you every step of your journey, Ciaran. May the gods watch over you and bring you safely to the end of
your Quest.” I bent my head to receive her blessing but she would not touch me. I straightened up.
Lockeran (Prince Ciaran the Damned Book 2) Page 16
