by Heidi Hanley
It seems you’ve come to terms with your future and you have my full support, he said. When you marry Brath, you will be his wife and my queen. I accept and honor that and will do nothin’ to compromise you. But there is somethin’ between us that no one else can share, and I won’t deny it. I will do whatever you need me to do. I’d appreciate you keepin’ me informed of anythin’ important. Otherwise, maybe we should try not to keep each other awake at night.
His words were exactly what he should say, and what she needed him to say, so why did she suddenly feel boxed into a corner she might want to get out of? Why did things have to feel both so right and so wrong? Silas, why do you think we were brought together and given this magic?
As I said before, the night I kissed you on the cliffs, I believe that sharin’ the same soul means that we share the same destiny. That destiny is rescuin’ Brath and savin’ Uisneach. We play different roles in the prophecy, but we’re on the same side.
I’m not sure we can control the telepathy. It may be somethin’ our soul just naturally does. But we have minds that can make choices, and as much as I wish it otherwise, I think you’re makin’ the right choices for both of us. Now go on and do more queenly things, a mhuirnin.
And he was gone. She scrunched her eyes to fight the tears and took a deep breath. Sitting taller on Banrion, she waved to Epona. “I’m ready. Let’s go home.”
Chapter Twenty-four
Druids
With Claire’s help, Briana spent the next morning packing for their journey. While she would’ve happily left that afternoon, Sigel insisted on following Cailleach’s recommendation about her recovery. They’d leave in two days.
From her room, Briana watched Jonathan working on his sword skills in the courtyard with Sigel. He might have done some damage with the battle axe if he’d decided to use it, she thought. No wonder Sigel warned them not to be too complacent about him.
A knock on her door interrupted her thoughts. “Pardon me, milady, but Cailleach would like you to meet her in the library,” said the butler.
“Thank you, Ballynickle.” She followed him downstairs. Entering the library, she found the Winges in a deep discussion about some household matter, which gave her an opportunity to wander around the room. Shelves of beautifully bound books lined two walls. She fingered one volume, The Ancient History of Uisneach and Tales from a Magical Past. The book’s velvety green binding with ornate gold lettering was compelling, but she put it back on the shelf. I’ll read it one of these days, she promised herself. Gilt-framed portraits of the Winge ancestors lined another wall. Wide doors in the fourth wall opened to a patio and a stunning English garden. She studied the portraits. Midnight-black hair was the familiar feature, but some kept it long, while others were stylishly cut. Ebony eyes were common, though several had emerald-green or icy-blue eyes, and one particularly mysterious-looking man had topaz eyes, slanted like a cat’s.
She wandered across heavily embroidered and exotic-looking rugs to the fireplace, in which a hearty, crackling fire behind crow-shaped andirons warmed the room. Above the mantle, a detailed map of Uisneach (sans the magical activity of her smaller version) caught her eye. On this map, a castle stood in Winge Mansion’s current location. I hope I remember to ask Sir Thomas about this. From floor to ceiling, the room held treasures and trinkets befitting the grace of the manor. Pure unadulterated elegance, she thought, tracing a design with her finger on the black marble table positioned at one end of the room.
Cailleach swept in with Sigel beside her and took a seat at the round marble table. Everyone else followed suit. Four of the five keepers of the medallions sat together. Why did they all wear the necklaces? What were they supposed to do with them? Cailleach posed those very questions to the team.
“There has to be a clue written in The Book of Leaves,” Briana insisted.
Cailleach agreed. “So we must figure out what we hold in common. We are all part of saving King Brath and Uisneach. That’s a given, but why the five of us? Silas…”
“Who’s not here,” Briana couldn’t help muttering under her breath, earning a frown from Sigel, who sat next to her.
“Sir Thomas, Sigel and I are descendants of the Divine Practitioners, but you are not,” said Cailleach. “Four of the kingdoms are represented at this table, excluding Evalon. Two women and three men? No idea what that indicates. Warrior, healer, witch, bard and shapeshifter… magic?”
“Except the warrior doesn’t have anything to do with magic,” Sigel pointed out. “It’s a different kind of druidry.”
Sir Thomas spoke up. “Warrior you are, Sigel, but the marshalls are not only military.”
“The druids from Dromdara acted more like counselors or judges,” Briana recalled from The Book of Leaves, “or, in other words, civilian law. Sigel, you must be from the Olama bloodline! Like Shamwa!”
“Maker forbid!” he said, horrified. “I’m nothing like Shamwa!”
“Of course you’re not. The history doesn’t say everyone in his line was evil. Perhaps you’re the good druid who went missing after the battle.”
“No, not the missing druid,” Cailleach chimed in. “That one came from Evalon and might have gone through the tree to protect the bloodline. Catriona was the head of the Evalonians. Wait a minute! Catriona is similar to Katrina.”
“Different spelling of the same,” Briana confirmed.
“By Maker, I think you’ve discovered the link,” Sir Thomas said, with a huge grin on his face.
Briana stared blankly at them. “What is it?”
Sigel patted her head. “Sometimes you can be a little slow, Briana. What Cailleach is suggesting is that you and I are both druids. I’m from the Dromdara line, and you’re from the Evalon line.”
“It makes perfect sense,” Cailleach said. “The Evalonians were famous healers and gardeners. Catriona came from that line and married the faerie king, Kailen. Faeries are the only ones who can communicate with animals. I’ve seen you do that a few times, Briana. You must have some faerie blood in your heritage.”
She was stunned. “No way! I’m not even from around here!”
Cailleach looked at her with new eyes. “Your mother was likely named in honor of Catriona. By your reckoning, you must be Catriona’s great-granddaughter…” Cailleach frowned in concentration. “It’s hard to be sure. Time in Uisneach and your world isn’t perfectly aligned.
“I’d wager this is explained on the lost page of The Book of Leaves. For some reason, Catriona stayed in your world, and raised their children there. Perhaps the faeries wanted to protect their bloodline.”
Sir Thomas said, “So that’s the common denominator: we’re all druids. Now, the question is, what do we do with the medallions?”
Quiet settled over the group for a time. Then Sigel said, “It explains something else, Briana.”
“What’s that?”
“Why it’s so important for you to marry Brath and give him a child. It will reconnect the druidic line with that of the monarchy, like Olama did with Princess Amuira. You are the only druidess of childbearing age, the only one who can do that.”
Briana, stunned, stared at Sigel for a long minute and then stood. “Excuse me, I need some air.”
She hardly noticed the smell of new blooms or the bright colors on the petals along the walkway. She stood looking out over the ocean, trying to wrap her head around what they had discovered. She wished she could discuss it with her mother. A descendant of the druidess Catriona and the faerie king, Kailen? If this was true, Uisneach was truly her land. No wonder she felt such a powerful need to protect it.
Familiar energy settled next to her.
I thought we weren’t going to talk to each other.
I know, but I can feel that somethin’s happened. I can’t just ignore you, milady. I promise not to touch you.
Fair enough. She brought him up to speed on the meeting.
So, you’re a druidess. I’m not surprised.
Hmm… I have mixe
d feelings.
What are you thinkin’?
That I could take this medallion off and throw it in the sea.
Aye, you could, but you won’t.
He was right, of course. She loved Uisneach, the people, her new family and most of all, she loved Silas. The end of Uisneach would be his ultimate end. She was torn.
At least now I understand why it has to be me. Before, I kept thinking if I saved King Brath, someone else could marry him and carry on the line.
He waited.
But I don’t want it. I want my happily-ever-after with you.
You might change your mind when you meet him.
Never. Only you, Silas. Only you.
You have a rich heritage and an important role to play in the history of Uisneach. Be proud, Briana. As proud as I am of you.
Gulls screamed overhead.
I need to go back in. I’ll let you know if anything else happens.
I’ll be here.
She waited a moment, but felt nothing. Damn, she wished he had touched her. From the other side of the veil she heard a chuckle.
Don’t think I didn’t consider it.
The druids spent another hour ruminating over how the medallions might be used to remove the curse, but drew no conclusions. They agreed that all must be present and the answer would likely become obvious when the time came.
“I’m going to rest before dinner,” Cailleach said, yawning.
Briana, needing solitude of her own, followed the witch upstairs.
She closed the door behind her. Claire spoke, startling her. “Milady, your dress is ready for this evening,” she said, pointing to the garment laying over a chair.
“Fine, Claire, thank you. I’m going to rest for a little while, but would you come back in an hour and help me with my hair?”
“Of course, milady,” she said, fluffing Briana’s pillows. She set a woven blanket across the bed for her.
When she left, Briana did lay down, but was unable to fall asleep for the whirling of her mind. Mother and I are druids. And part faerie. Go figure. Shocking news, but it made sense, given their love of nature, her mother’s gift of healing, her ability to travel through the tree, and their appreciation of anything remotely magical. How she longed to share this newly discovered heritage with her mother.
It seemed no time had passed when Claire returned to prepare her for the evening. The last wrinkle was smoothed from the emerald-green gown and last pin pushed into her hair, when there came a knock at her door. She opened the door to find Jonathan Stark, dressed nicely in a new suit, his hair combed neat. Again, she saw the man he would become. Sigel stood stalwart and silent behind him.
“Mr. Stark, what are you doing here?”
“I came to escort you to dinner,” he replied, with a confidence verging on cockiness.
“I see. Well, thank you.” She took his arm, trying to match the seriousness of his duty.
Smiles met them as they entered the salon and Jonathan was treated with the same respect due any member of the queen’s entourage.
Conversation that night did not focus on the druidic connection, but upon horses, preparations for the continuing journey to Ard Darach and other more mundane topics.
Servants moved in and out effortlessly. She hoped the staff at Ard Darach would be so efficient. Over sherry, Briana found an opportunity to ask her host about the castle where Winge Mansion now stood.
“That was Corvid Castle, which stood on these grounds until my great-great grandfather had it torn down to build the current home. He had a terrible case of phasmophobia and the old castle was utterly haunted.”
“Phasmophobia?”
“Fear of ghosts.”
“Ahh.” She nodded and took a sip of her sherry.
Epona sailed in, late as usual, looking gorgeous in a black pantsuit and long tunic. She gave her daily report about the stables. The mare had foaled in the middle of the night; mother and babe were doing fine. No further evidence of intrusion noted around the grounds, confirming that Jonathan had no confederates.
The two young woman found time to chat near the end of the evening.
“Riding tomorrow?” Epona asked.
“Yes, I’d like to get one more ride in before we leave.”
“I’ll ride with you,” Sigel said. “Jonathan will accompany us so we can see if he’s half the horseman his old man is. Do you have a mount for him, Epona?”
“I have one in mind.”
“Paying for the horses Winge Mansion has provided is going to break the royal coffers,” Sigel said, wryly.
“Consider it our tithe to the kingdom,” Sir Thomas said, lifting his glass to the lord marshall.
Chapter Twenty-five
Heritage
The next day, after conferring with Lady Isabella about a few last-minute concerns, Briana hurried to the riding ring, where Sigel and Epona were watching Jonathan put a small black gelding through his paces. There were two wooden fences in the middle of the ring, one low, one with three rails, for jumping.
“Do you have any concerns about him coming with us?” she asked Sigel. “He’s so young. I worry he won’t be able to keep up. He might be distracting. I also wonder if we’re putting too much trust in him, too soon.”
Sigel grinned. “You thought of all of that over breakfast?”
Actually, she’d tossed and turned all night worrying about it, but she wasn’t about to admit that.
“He’s Jameson Stark’s boy. I’ll bet my last coin he has the same level of integrity. I believe he just found the only way he could to reach his father. He can manage a weapon somewhat, and he’s courageous. If he can sit a horse, he’ll do well enough. I’ll have to look out for him, but what’s one more inexperienced warrior to deal with?”
She bristled until she saw the smile lurking in his eyes. Standing as tall as her stature would allow, she replied, “I’ll have you know, I can hold my own with the best warrior and I have the scar to prove it!”
“That you do, and I deeply regret it.”
They watched the boy for a few moments.
“Guess he can ride,” she conceded.
“Got his father’s genes, that’s for sure,” Sigel said.
“Milady, look at the horse Mistress Epona gave me! His name’s Andromeda.”
Her throat thickened at the excitement in Jonathan’s voice. His eagerness was admirable, but she worried about his safety.
When Sigel was done with the lad, his attention switched to Briana. “Ready?”
“Yup!” She was already settled into her saddle with Nua sheathed in the leather baldric slung across her shoulder.
Sigel mounted Orion and pranced into the ring across from Briana. “Pay attention, lass.”
“Yes, sir,” she said, sitting taller in the saddle, eyes trained on her teacher.
He made several solo passes to demonstrate technique, waving, jabbing and slashing with his massive broadsword. Mrs. Tollemy would probably faint to see Sigel in full warrior mode. With the top of his dark hair pulled back in a topknot and the lower lengths hanging free, it made his scar more obvious, and also made him more formidable. I’d hate to meet him in a back alley somewhere. He, the horse and his weapon were a single, fearsome entity.
She let Banrion lead the charge, while she practiced swinging Nua to either side. The heavy blade took all her strength to manage, and she had to stay on the horse, as well. It was tricky. Without warning, Banrion jumped over the three-rail fence. It seemed to Briana that time unrolled in slow motion. Nua flew straight up in the air, sunlight glinting off her carved steel. Briana flew off Banrion, landing on her back under the rails, pinned. She looked up in time to see Nua falling, point down, toward her head. With eyes wide open, she willed the blade to change trajectory. A split second before impact, the sword swerved violently to the side and stabbed harmlessly into the ground beside her head. Silence. Briana breathed out at last, eased herself out from under the fence and stood shakily. Looking at the terroriz
ed expressions on the faces of her teacher, friend and protégé, she smiled brightly and said, “Thank Maker for magic!”
Epona’s usually joyful face was white as snow and her eyes dark saucers, filled with fear. She wrapped her arms around Briana. “For a second I… I saw my father, jumping over that wall. It took me right back to that day.”
Briana hugged her tightly. “I am so sorry.”
She declined Sigel’s offer to end the lesson for the day, and mounted Banrion again. This time, it went smoothly. Two hours later, she held up a hand. “I’m sure I’m not going to be able to move my arms by tonight, so I guess we better call this done for today.” She dismounted and handed the reins to Epona.
“Briana, I want to braid her mane and tail for when you leave. It’ll make it easier for both of you, if she doesn’t have hair flying in her face all the time and you have less to groom. I’ll do it this afternoon.”
“Thank you, Epona. You all right?”
“Yeah, I’m fine,” she answered, in her usual vibrant voice.
Briana turned to find Sigel watching her thoughtfully.
“You’re ready. We leave tomorrow morning at dawn,” he announced.
Her last night at Winge Mansion was spent quietly. After a lovely dinner, some discussion about the details of their trip and a reading from The The Ancient History of Uisneach, everyone retired early.
Night faded quickly into day. Horses were saddled, loaded and ready to go. Dara paced, wagged his tail incessantly and occasionally tried to jump on Briana, Epona or Sigel.
The plan was to head for Ratskillen, spend the night and then head east past Art Aron. This would be the trickiest and most time-consuming section of the journey. The mountains provided a certain amount of cover, but were not without spots of treacherous climbing, especially on horseback. If they got around Art Aron, they could make it to Shannon Abbey the next night. The abbess would feed and shelter them. The third day would be a hard push to Ard Darach.
“Cailleach and I will rendezvous with you in a few days,” Sir Thomas said, as he embraced her. “Be careful, Briana, don’t take any chances, will you? You are the…”
