by Heidi Hanley
The deer jumped with a startled cry and took three great bounds before stopping, stumbling back a few steps, then gently laying down in the leaves, his life’s spirit gone.
Hallowed silence and penumbral light filled the woodland cathedral. Finally, Silas stood and headed toward the fallen animal. Sigel nudged Briana and they followed, careful as they neared the animal, in case he wasn’t truly dead. A wounded animal could be dangerous.
Silas knelt beside the animal and ran his hand gently down its reddish pelt. “Thank you, brother, for your sacrifice. You honor us with your willingness to die so that we might live. May your spirit now wander among ripe apple trees and clear running streams.”
When Silas looked up, tears streamed down Briana’s cheeks. “Did this upset you, lass?”
She shook her head. “It was terribly beautiful. And I love that you blessed him after.”
“Death and sacrifice are requirements of life, and we should never take them for granted,” was all he said before getting down to the business of preparing the body for transport.
When the ministrations were complete, Sigel offered to carry the deer. “You’re lugging enough with all your wee instruments and such.”
“And the wee bow that killed the deer,” Silas pointed out, as he hoisted the animal across Sigel’s shoulders.
They followed a brook through a forest abundant in fruit and nut trees. Briana collected handfuls of fallen walnuts and put them in her pocket. Low-hanging apples found their way into her pack, as well. The trail led stubbornly through a thick stand of pines. When they came out on the other side, she discovered that the brook they’d been following was actually the outlet of a very large waterfall that fell straight down into a clear pool and then out into the stream. It was stunning.
“Ah,” Silas sighed. “Haven’t been in that pool for a very long time. Can’t wait to have a good bath.”
“I’ll be right behind you,” Sigel agreed. “First order of business after getting Milady Mouse settled.”
She growled at the use of her nickname, before shrugging it off. “Are we almost at Cailleach’s?”
Sigel pointed to stone steps that led up a gentle slope. Light poured from above, through some pines and directly onto the stairway, illuminating them like a divine wand. “Walk into the light,” she murmured, prompting yet another look of confusion from her companions. She led the way up the stairs.
More than a forest hut, it was a gathering of structures. The main cabin, presumably Cailleach’s, was a moss-draped, wood and stone structure set against a massive granite slab that appeared to be part of the forest itself. Windows peeked out upon a porch that ran across the front of the cabin, where two simple wooden rocking chairs sat empty. A smaller window, higher up, hinted at a room above the main floor. Tendrils of smoke swirled lazily from a chimney on one side. Next to the main lodging stood a smaller cabin, primitive but complete, and what looked to be a crudely fashioned stall and paddock complete with an idling goat and wandering chickens. A large yew tree (or what had likely been three yews grown together, with the combined trunk size of three or four big men) stood in the center of the croft, creating a natural arbor. A low stone wall encircled the complex. Everything looked as though it had been there eons, covered in moss and old leaves, yet sturdy and alive.
The door opened and a woman stepped out onto the porch with a hawk perched on her shoulder. Her hair fell in a thick braid, with feathers and flowers woven into it. She had an air of mystery and earthy beauty that was captivating. Her long woolen dress was decorated with more natural trinkets, and soft leather boots covered her feet. Along with an amulet of amethyst and wren feathers, she wore a black medallion with a Tree of Life on its face. She was beautiful in a mysterious way. She was a woman of the forest. She was a witch.
By this time, they were at the steps to the porch. Awe kept Briana quiet; Sigel bowed to the woman. “Greetings Cailleach,” he said, respectfully, and with poorly hidden affection.
Cailleach’s soft, berry-colored lips parted in a smile that made her even more arresting. “Sigel. Silas.” She nodded to them both and then turned her full attention to Briana. “And you must be the Mouse.” Before Briana could protest, she added, “Or shall I call you Briana? You’ve grown up to be such a lovely woman, but then, you were a beautiful baby.” Her honeyed voice wrapped around Briana. “And who do we have here?” she asked, smiling at the huge gray hound, who stared at her with baleful eyes.
Briana found her voice. “We found him injured yesterday afternoon. I did what I could to set his paw and tend to his wounds, but he still needs rest and some food. A touch of willow bark wouldn’t be out of order. I hope it’s okay that we brought him. His name’s Dara. He doesn’t eat as much as you might think, and he never made a sound when Silas shot the deer.” Cailleach was studying her with interest and a tiny smile. Briana wanted to smack herself for her nervous blathering.
“Of course Dara is welcome here. Come in, all of you, and bring the gray lad, too. He needs warming by the fire. Sigel, you can hang the deer in the shed. I have tea on. I’ll want to hear all about your journey, Briana.”
The cabin’s single, surprisingly large room was filled with natural light. Having run her own herbal business, Briana first noticed the signs of Cailleach’s medicinal work: the racks of drying herbs, small containers of oils and ointments, and baskets full of twine and bark. Near that were other necessities, mounds of colored cloth and fibers, black pots and other cooking tools, and colored glass bottles and pitchers. A variety of plants made the place homey. In the center of the room stood a large wooden table with four chairs, and tucked away in one corner, a small feather bed covered with handmade quilts, and a perch for the hawk. A place for everything, and everything in its place. Stairs led to a loft. In the other corner sat a large barrel. The smell and heat of the peat fire was welcoming and cozy.
Cailleach set the hawk on his perch in a grumpy rustle of feathers, before turning her attention to her guests. After inspecting Dara’s wounds herself and getting him settled on blankets by the fire, she showed Briana the sleeping loft. They went back downstairs and Cailleach put bread, fruit preserves and some dried meat on the table. She was pouring mugs of ale when Briana remembered the nuts and apples. Climbing the stairs again, she retrieved the fruit and offered them to the witch, who seemed pleased with the gift and set them in a bowl on the table to be shared with the meal.
The men made quick work of the food and drink, while Briana and Cailleach spent more time talking than eating. When Briana told her about coming through the tree, Cailleach asked, “Do you remember being inside the tree?”
“Not really. I remember images on the walls, but nothing specific.” She paused, her eyes suddenly drawn to Silas. She shivered, feeling a strange sense of déjà vu, but it passed, so she continued. “I went down and then went up, I do remember that. It wasn’t frightening or anything, I’m sure of that. I know I felt safe and mostly curious.”
The witch nodded. “And the Wellses were good to you?”
“Oh my, yes. Somehow, they made sure I had everything I needed. Of course, Jack pushed me hard in the training, but now I know why.”
They talked of many things, including her parents. Silas asked, “Do you look like your mum or your da?”
Cailleach answered, “She looks just like her mother.”
Briana started to ask how she knew that, but the conversation turned quickly to concerns about the Gray Military and the destruction of the faerie trees, and she forgot about it. Differences of opinion developed over how to proceed with the next phase of the journey. In the end, Cailleach’s opinion was accepted. They’d stay for several days so Cailleach could finish Briana’s education about the kingdom and teach her some new skills. “While we’re working, you two might do something to replenish my larders,” Cailleach said. “The deer is helpful, but I need other supplies.”
Sigel and Silas agreed to hunt and to make the long journey to the mill in Moiria for
barley, rye and wheat flour. With these decisions made and their meal complete, the men prepared to go back out and see what other game they might find. They promised to bathe in the pool at the waterfall before coming home that evening.
“Good idea. Now that you mention it, before you leave, could you bring in the tub and some water so Briana can have a good hot bath?” The mere suggestion of Briana bathing had her blushing, but the men did as they were asked.
Sigel arranged the copper tub near the fireplace. “I’ll empty it when we return. We should be back just after dark.”
Once the men were gone and the tub filled with hot water, the shyness Briana felt about undressing in front of the witch disappeared as the woman moved about the cabin, talking gently, and finding an herbal wash for her hair. Briana wasted no time getting into the tub.
Dara’s presence nearby, and the occasional chirring of the raptor, whose name was Merlin, were soothing energies. She slid down into the hot water with a deep sigh.
“Can I wash your hair for you, lass?”
Briana nodded. Cailleach immediately went to work on her long hair, washing, rinsing and pulling out tangles, which reminded her of how much she missed her mother.
“Cailleach, can you help me let my mother know that I’m all right? She must be so scared. I just disappeared without a trace.”
The witch’s fingers stilled. “Your mother knows where you are, child.”
Briana turned and stared at her, thinking she’d heard wrong. “What?”
Cailleach looked at Briana, baffled. “Are you telling me that Katrina never talked to you about Uisneach?”
“How would she know about Uisneach?”
Cailleach explained her visit to Katrina on the day of Briana’s birth. Briana was stunned. “Mom knew all along and never told me? Why not?”
“I suspect she hoped the day wouldn’t come,” Cailleach said. “Or perhaps she just never found the right time.”
Briana remembered her mother’s comment just before her disappearance that they needed to talk. “She may have started to just before I went through the tree, but it was a bad time, so she said we’d talk soon.”
“She should’ve told you long before then. You could’ve been preparing for this. Och, well, nothing to be done about it. We’ll just have to start from the beginning. Tomorrow. You can have this afternoon to catch your breath. Ready to come out? I think your fingers are turning into old mushrooms.”
It was hard not to feel more than a little hurt and angry that her mother had kept this from her for twenty-five years. It would’ve been nice to have some preparation, if only for the separation that would come.
Except that had I known, we would’ve spent a lifetime worrying about when it would happen. Perhaps it was for the best that Katrina kept it from her.
“I guess she won’t worry I’ve been abducted.” With a last long sigh, she stepped out of the tub and into a wooly towel, to dry off.
“Cailleach, what are the medallions for?” she asked, toweling her hair.
“I’m still trying to figure that out. I believe they’re important, but we don’t know how to use them to unlock the curse. Just don’t lose it, lass. It will be critical to our success.”
“Silas has one too, and the crow.”
“As do I,” she said, pulling hers from inside her dress. “Sigel has one, too.”
“He does? I hadn’t noticed.”
“There are five medallions, five keys. Time is running out to discover their magic.”
“Shouldn’t we hold off on going to the castle until we do?”
She shook her head. “I have every faith that we’ll learn what to do at the proper time. In the meantime, we need to get you to Ard Darach.”
Briana was sitting by the fire, rubbing an ointment on Dara’s scratches, when the men returned with a brace of partridges. They’d bathed and shaved. Briana looked up with a smile, in spite of the slight headache that had begun to plague her this afternoon. They clean up nice, she thought. She could see in their expressions a similar sentiment toward her freshly scrubbed appearance in a linen shift topped by a long dress made from flax, dyed cornflower-blue and piped with rabbit fur. The medallion shone black against the pale blue of the dress. Around her waist, Cailleach had laced a wide brown leather belt. The dress was soft and pretty and Briana was glad for the opportunity to feel and look like a woman for a change.
“You look lovely, lass.”
“Thank you, Silas,” she responded, with a shy smile.
Cailleach interrupted the moment, directing the men to get the birds hung in the smokehouse and take the tub out, which Briana had emptied before their return.
Briana’s head throbbed all during supper, so she ate little. She had no idea if she would ever see her mother again; the thought brought a stab of pain in her heart. In the meantime, the affection she felt for these men and this amazing woman was deep and true. The men had proven their loyalty, and though she’d just met the witch, she already felt a strong connection. She couldn’t help but feel a reciprocating allegiance.
While the women cleaned up from supper, the men stoked the fire and pulled some chairs around the hearth. Cailleach poured ale from a crock. Silas brought out a small instrument similar to a guitar or mandolin. Settling in, they listened attentively as he began to sing. His clear and emotive voice brought to life the stories of victorious kings and battles hard fought and won. Briana was captivated by both his lyrical voice and his dreamy good looks.
“Silas, would you allow me to play your guitar?” she asked him, suddenly.
“You play?” Sigel asked, leaning forward with curiosity.
“My dad taught me to play. I also took piano lessons growing up. My folks were big believers in the importance of music education. Your instrument is a little different than what I’m used to, but I think I can figure it out.”
“Do you sing, too?” Silas asked, clearly pleased by this discovery.
“I can carry a tune.”
He handed her his guitar with an encouraging smile, then leaned back in the chair, stretching his long legs in front of him.
She strummed a few riffs, then took a deep breath. “This is a song I’ve been working on for some time. I couldn’t figure out where it came from, or why, but now I know.” She strummed a few lines and began, “Across the veil a sign appears. A hero’s call to arms. A crown to save and nation free, release from evil charms. A journey made from future times, to ancient royal mound…”
Silas’ face was ghostly white and his mouth hung open.
Her fingers stilled on the strings. “Silas, what’s wrong? It isn’t that bad.”
Cailleach and Sigel both looked concerned. “What is it, lad?” Cailleach asked, gently.
Silas reached for his instrument, which Briana quickly handed to him.
Staring directly at Briana, he continued, “Raisin’ sword with steady hand, to prophecy she’s bound. Duty calls across this fair land, for men and lass alike. Pick up your shield and make your stand, for Uisneach now we strike.”
Briana gasped, but when he continued she joined him in perfect synchrony.
“Crossroads coming, make a choice
Remain and die, or fight.
Your hearth to leave, the future calls
Hide no more – your battle cry.
Between the tree and standing stones
Your destiny awaits you.
To save the ways of older days
For Uisneach’s sake, we’ll try or die!”
The only difference in their words was that when he said “Uisneach,” she used the word, “kingdom.”
They finished the song together and Silas put the guitar down.
The crackling of the fire and the individual rhythms of their breathing were the only sounds in the room for several minutes.
“How is this possible?” Briana finally asked.
Cailleach appeared to be thinking, Sigel frowned and Silas was starting to regain a little color.
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br /> “I don’t know,” Silas said, “but it seems rather significant, don’t you think?”
There were no apparent answers or even theories, at least none anyone cared to share.
Sigel said, “What we do know is that the queen is a bard in her own right. Careful she doesn’t steal your job, Silas.”
Briana looked down at her hands, limp in her lap.
Better me job than me heart, she heard clearly in her head.
Puzzled, she looked up to meet Silas’ equally confused stare. When a strand of hair fell across the side of his face, butterflies rose up in a ferocious flutter in her belly. She wanted to reach over and push the stray lock back behind his ear.
“I once saw a swarm of butterflies rise up as one flutterin’ army,” Silas said. “It was beautiful.”
“What’s that got to do with anything?” Sigel asked.
“Nothin’,” he replied. “The thought just crossed me mind.”
Briana didn’t take her eyes off him. Why would you say that when I was just thinking of butterflies? Are you reading my mind?
I think so. Ask me a question.
Her eyes narrowed. What do you think I should name the song?
“Well, gettin’ back to Briana’s song. Have you named it yet? I’d call it ‘Crossroads.’”
Sweet mother of God, she thought. What’s your favorite color?
“Or perhaps the ‘Green Hills of Uisneach’?” Silas said.
“I like ‘Crossroads’ better,” Sigel said.
We can read each other’s minds! How? Why? What does this mean?
I don’t know, but I think we should keep it to ourselves until we work it out. And, Briana?
Yes?
You should probably stop starin’ at me. Cailleach is watchin’ us like a hawk.
Indeed, Cailleach was watching them with great intent and fascination. Keeping her eyes on the witch, Briana thought, Okay, but one more thing.
Yes?
I think I’d like to steal your heart.
