Gypsy's Quest

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Gypsy's Quest Page 2

by Nikki Broadwell


  I looked up, startled to see a man approaching from down the trail. He was dressed in homespun trousers, high leather boots and a thick woolen sweater. His skin had the deep coppery look of someone who spent a considerable amount of time in the sun, his hair bleached to reddish-gold. Suddenly nervous I pulled my shawl protectively around my body. He gaped at me, his eyebrows raised in surprise.

  “Are you on your way to the temple?” I asked as he came close, trying not to stare into his startling turquoise eyes.

  He nodded and then smiled, revealing straight white teeth. “I didn’t expect to run into a woman on this trail, especially one as exotic as you. Occasionally the priestesses come this way. They’re the only women allowed in the Temple of the Sun.”

  Exotic was not a word I would use to describe my dusty sweat-stained clothes, my hair loosened from its braid and hanging around my face in damp wisps. “Are you a monk?”

  He laughed until his eyes teared up. “Hardly. I’m a trader. I come this way every year. It’s the easiest route to the many villages hidden in these mountains. Where did you come from?”

  A trader—I hoped he wasn’t one of the thieves Dia had described who robbed people and sometimes knifed them. “I lived in Tolam.”

  “Ah yes, Tolam. You’re a long way from home.” He looked at me quizzically for several moments. “This is not a place for a woman alone, especially in your condition.”

  When his gaze traveled across my body my cheeks grew hot; I smoothed my skirt over my protruding belly. “The villagers threw me out,” I admitted before I could stop myself, my hand going up to cover my mouth. This was a stranger, one who had a knife on his belt.

  “Well,” he said after a moment, “I lived in Tolam for a short while—they’re a superstitious bunch full of strange stories. You’re heading into the valley?”

  I waited for the inevitable look of disdain, the judgmental stare, but his expression was only one of concern. “The monks were kind enough to let me stay one night at the temple. I’ve been told there are towns in the valley.”

  He nodded, sitting on his haunches and pulling a small pipe from his pack. As he tamped the tobacco down and lit it with a match I looked around helplessly. Shelter for the night was imperative—the sun had already disappeared behind the peaks.

  “Would you like a smoke? It’s very calming and it won’t hurt the baby,” he said, holding out the curious pipe.

  I took it from him examining the swirls and patterns carved into the stem. The designs were very much like the necklace I wore.

  “It’s very old,” he said, watching me. “Belonged to my great, great, great, grandfather.” He laughed again and the bright sound echoed into the valley.

  I hesitated before bringing it to my lips. As a former smoker I had read the warnings on the cigarette packages. But with his smiling encouragement I overcame my reticence, pulling the fragrant smoke into my lungs. Coughing, I stared up at him.

  “Try again,” he grinned.

  The second time was better--smooth and cool. When I breathed out, the smoke swirled in familiar patterns and I watched them until they faded into nothingness. My body tingled. Everything looked bright and I could smell the sea. But how far away was that? It must be a hundred miles from here. “Can you tell me where we are? Is this some remote island off Scotland?”

  “Scotland? No. This place is known as Far Isle.” He held the pipe out.

  “Far Isle. I’ve never heard of that.” I took the proffered pipe again and inhaled. I felt strong and full of energy, ready to take on the world. He watched me, his eyes bright and filled with humor.

  When I handed it back he puffed a few times and then dumped the ash on the ground. “That’s better,” he said, standing up and stretching with his hands high above his head. He twisted from side to side, loosening his shoulders. “Maybe you should accompany me. These hills hold many unseen dangers.”

  I studied him carefully. Although there was something about him that seemed familiar, I didn’t know him; I didn’t want to put myself into someone’s care. It was the main reason I was out here alone in the middle of nowhere. “I’m heading the other way. Besides, I have my talismans—I’ll be fine.” Why had I said that? Now he would think I was as superstitious as the people in Tolam.

  He raised one eyebrow. “What do you carry to keep you safe?”

  “I have a few herbs and some beads and crystals and my spiral necklace.” I pulled aside my shawl to show him my one piece of jewelry.

  “A proper witch then,” he said, leaning in to take a look at the triple spiral. His fingers grazed my breast as he picked it up to get a better look.

  “I wouldn’t call myself a witch, although I. . . .”

  “I swear I know this necklace.” He looked up at me, his forehead creasing into a frown.

  “It’s an ancient emblem, the triple goddess. The villagers told me it was a potent symbol.”

  “And so it is, but what I meant is this particular one seems familiar to me. The way the silver is worked, the artistry in the embellishments. Where did you get it?”

  “I don’t know. I was wearing it when I washed up…“

  “Washed up?”

  I nodded. “I was in Tolam because the villagers took me there after they found me on the sand. It was the place where the river meets the sea. I don’t know how I got there.”

  He gazed at me thoughtfully. “Yes, I know this place where the boats bring in their cargo. What’s your name?”

  “I’m Gertrude.”

  He frowned, studying my features. “Kafir,” he finally said, holding out his hand.

  I felt calluses on the roughened skin of his palm. Hands of a sailor. “Do you know me, Kafir? My recent memories have been lost.”

  “You remind me of a woman I knew many years ago.”

  A shiver went down my spine. “Where was that?”

  He shook his head letting go of my hand. “I was a different man then. I’m fairly certain she’s long dead.” He seemed to come back to the present, straightening and adjusting his pack.

  “I must be on my way. Keep to this trail and you will come to a place to shelter by nightfall. It is a perilous journey you have undertaken.” He raised his hand in farewell. “May Frigga keep you and your child safe. I hope our paths will cross again,” he called over his shoulder as he moved past me.

  “Wait! Is there transportation in the valley? Trains, planes?”

  He stopped and turned. “You will not find those methods of transport here.” He waved, turning back to the trail and heading away from me, leaving me feeling hopeless and very alone.

  The Otherworld--2010

  “Everyone’s been accounted for, even those who died.” Maeve reached up to wipe her eyes. “And she didn’t show at the bonfire for Imbolc. It’s been months now.”

  Duncan turned from his place by the fire. “Didn’t Arainrhod mention a search party? Maybe it’s time.”

  Maeve stared into the distance. “It seems if she were dead we would have found her body. What do you think, Harold?”

  “Let MacCuill handle it.”

  “I guess your lack of concern is because you didn’t know her. She helped me many times when I went to her in Milltown.”

  Harold placed his hand on Maeve’s shoulder. “My first concern is for you and our baby. I’d like to get settled before he’s born.”

  “He? I’m sure it’s a girl.”

  Harold laughed. “I was using the generic ‘he’.”

  “As soon as MacCuill returns we’ll make a plan,” Duncan said. “Maybe one of the Tuatha De Danann has a boat. We can sail out to the islands Arianrhod mentioned.”

  Maeve squinted, shading her eyes from the ball of orange heading toward the horizon. “How far away? I thought this place was protected from the rest of the world.”

  Harold shrugged. “The Kenneth personality would know, but since the battle ended he’s been strangely absent. Duncan, what do you think?”

  “All I know is I�
��ve lived here my entire life. What lies outside the Otherworld has never concerned me.”

  “Well, at least we saw Brandubh die. He won’t be around to torture Gertrude or anyone else ever again,” Maeve muttered.

  Chapter Two

  Far Isle--2450

  I hurried down the trail, very glad when I came upon the tiny wooden structure Kafir had told me about. As I opened the door a musty smell wafted out; no one had stayed here for some time. Inside I found a board to place across the iron fastenings—a useless gesture. The door was rickety and I didn’t want to think about what might happen if someone or something tried to get in.

  I pulled a candle out of my pack and lit it with one of only a dozen matches I had left and then rubbed my lower back. Before eating I placed my crystals in the four directions: east for new beginnings, south for fire and passion, west for water and emotion, north for home and security, remembering the invocation to spirit I’d used in Milltown. I knelt in the center of the circle holding my amulet in my fingers asking the spirits here to keep me safe from the dark, the wind, and the fog.

  The familiar ritual took my thoughts into the past, to my arrival in the States when I was barely seventeen. Not unlike now, I had gotten myself into a dangerous situation from being stubborn. I would have died if the sailor with the turquoise eyes hadn’t found me, taking me with him on his boat. I could no longer recall his name but he was my first love. But why he left me on a foreign shore and never came back had always plagued me. I pulled my Tarot deck out, thinking to ask the cards about my future, but when I handled them I felt disconnected, as though they hadn’t been with me since my teens and my main source of income for many years. I felt bereft, as though my best friend had deserted me as I wrapped them back up in the square of purple silk, stowing them on the bottom of the pack.

  After Kafir’s pronouncement my hope of getting home had faded, but I still looked forward to finding a better place to sleep with a decent roof, a fireplace and a real bed. Maybe the people in the valley would be open to Tarot readings and I could somehow reconnect with my psychic abilities. Barring that I was at a loss as to how to support myself.

  A gust of cold wind came through the wide gaps in the walls making me shiver. Pulling my shawl close, I blew out the candle, hoping that sleep would take me somewhere pleasant instead of into the frightening dreams I’d been having of late.

  I woke with an intake of breath. It was black as pitch. I couldn’t decide if it was my full bladder or the terrifying dream that made me open my eyes. Maybe both. Shaking with nerves and cold I made my way outside. A dark malevolent sky greeted me outside the door and as I lifted my skirts I heard the whine of the wind. According to the villagers, the wind god was Njord, but to me it was Vasilia, a Celtic goddess who could scour my mind and leave me unable to think for many days. A tremor passed through me as I imagined being lost in these hills until I died of hunger and thirst. Maybe I should add the proper gods to my repertoire of devotion. I wouldn’t want to anger them.

  When I rose and re-adjusted my skirts, the dream came back—a man dressed in black who chased me to the brink of a deep chasm. If I hadn’t awakened at that moment I would have tumbled over trying to get away. I shuddered, clutching my shawl close as I headed back to the shelter.

  In the morning I felt the light on my eyes before I was fully awake. It lay across the floor in evenly spaced lines where it slid through the gaps in the boards. I grabbed a hunk of cheese and gathered my things together. With any luck I could make it to the valley by nightfall.

  Within an hour the sky became sullen and lonely, the sun barely visible. If it rained the trail could become even more treacherous—and besides that I had no raincoat. Some time later the sound of bells lured me onto a side path toward a small herd of ponies. They were grazing, their movements bringing sweet music from the bells hanging round their necks. A brown-haired woman stood with them, her eyes focused on me.

  “Hello,” I said tentatively, moving toward her.

  She smiled, heading toward me, the ring on her third finger catching the light for a moment. When she held out her hand I was struck by the Celtic knot design broken in the middle. I had seen this ring before. Her fingers grasped mine strongly, a strange smile lighting up her pale eyes. “I am…um…Frigga, named for Odin’s wife.”

  “I’m Gertrude,” I told her, feeling a tremor go up my forearm. I pulled away, rubbing the places where the sensation lingered.

  “Your little one is very close to term,” she told me, her eyes traveling over my body. “I suggest you come with me. I have a small house here and I can help you.” Her smile turned greedy before she shook herself, letting her brocade dress settle around her shapely body. “I’m a skilled midwife.”

  I searched the area, wondering where this house might be, a strange languor coming over me. “The baby isn’t due for two moons.”

  “Oh, I doubt that! No, this baby is ready.” When she reached toward me I stepped back, my senses on high alert. But a second later a well of pain surged through my lower belly making me double over.

  “I told you. I am very intuitive about these things,” Frigga said, taking the opportunity to come close. “My house is right here.”

  I looked up, my eyes watering from the pains still coursing through my belly. Behind us was a house that I was certain hadn’t been there a moment before, complete with smoke rising from the chimney. “The baby isn’t due yet…it’s too early.”

  “At least come in for a cup of tea. I don’t get many visitors out here.”

  A feeling of déjà vu coursed through me—something about her eyes seemed familiar, but in the next second she was dragging me toward the house, chattering about tea, the cold and her loneliness. When she opened the door I noticed that her chin was sagging, her hair now streaked with gray. This woman was no ordinary woman and every part of my being told me to get the hell out of here.

  “I’m sorry but I have a long to go. Thanks anyway,” I said, pulling out of her grasp.

  “Are you headed toward Fell?” she asked me, her eyes wide.

  I nodded. “I plan to give birth there.”

  “Well. The next time I’m there I’ll look for you and your baby boy. I wish you all the best.” She stared at me with narrowed eyes, a frown of concentration on her face before moving through the doorway.

  I hurried back to the trail, moving as quickly as I could away from her, the house and the ponies. I was spooked, visions crowding my head like frightened birds. I was sure I knew her—if only I could remember. On the main trail I ran into Kafir who reached out to steady me. “Whoa! I can’t imagine this pace is good for you or your child.”

  “I ran into a woman back there…she…she appeared out of nowhere.”

  Kafir frowned. “A woman out here?”

  “She had ponies and a house and…there was something odd about her. She told me she was a midwife and…oh!” I doubled over as a contraction moved through my belly.

  He took hold of my forearms, his focus on my eyes.”Whose child do you carry?”

  “I…I don’t know.”

  “You don’t know who fathered your baby?”

  I shook my head, looking down. “It happened right before I arrived here. I haven’t recovered those memories. Is it important?”

  “I think you’ve had a run-in with the sorceress. It’s the only explanation since no one lives out here and ponies could never survive in these mountains.”

  “I’m in labor, Kafir. And I know I’m not due yet.”

  Kafir shook his head. “She caused the contractions—she wants your child. That’s why I asked about the father. I’ll accompany you as far as Fell. But then I must get back to my boat. I know people in the valley who can help and keep you safe.”

  After walking for several more hours the contractions slowed and then stopped. I was so exhausted I could barely keep my eyes open, so when Kafir suggested we stop for the night I agreed whole-heartedly, following him off the trail to a cave he had
used before. I hoped I could trust this man but so far my intuition had not sent up any red flags, other than a sense of familiarity.

  “Adair is very dangerous,” he told me, his attention on the fire he prepared.

  “Adair?” I recognized that name.

  “Did the monks mention their sister temple, the Temple of the Moon?”

  “No. Where is it?”

  Kafir studied me for a moment as he thought. “It lies on a peninsula in the southern sea. The temple is protected—she can’t get in.”

  “You seem worried.”

  “You must search your memories for why she wants your child. There is no other explanation for her behavior.”

  An image of a cold, desolate landscape surfaced in my mind—death and the destruction of everything good. I shivered, close to tears. “I wish I could remember.”

  “You can’t force it, Gertrude. Until the past resurfaces you must do whatever is necessary to keep yourself and your child safe.”

  I was barely awake when Kafir told me he was heading out to get more wood. I nodded, closing my eyes again. My night had been restless and full of dreams and it was barely light. Surely I could sleep another hour or so. “Don’t be too long,” I mumbled, settling again under the heavy cloak he had placed over me. When I woke later the sun was high and Kafir had not returned. I ate some cheese and oatcakes, scanning outside for some sign of the man. I would have to go soon if I wanted to reach Fell by nightfall. He had left most of his things behind, including his pack. I went through it carefully and when a letter fell out I picked up the brown dried-out paper.

  Kafir,

  I hope this letter will reach you and that you read it in the light in which it is intended. Your wife and sons are here with me. They have decided to remain here as I am a better provider and my work is in the town, and does not take me away for days and weeks at a time. Ella loves me now, as do your boys. She wishes your blessings and release from your vows so that we can be married. Please honor her needs and send a signed letter.

 

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