by C.S. Fanning
counting, and had paid little attention to his lessons. It was a local superstition that the lower numbers were auspicious, so when Aeden drew an eight his spirits plummeted. Worse still, the smug look on Fianna’s face made it clear that she had drawn number one. As the first few was called and Fianna mounted the steps to the altar in the very center of the circle of stones, Aeden felt lost and confused, everything about this day seemed unusual and he was sure that it was more than the nervousness that could be expected to accompany his Nameday.
Fianna stood before the altar as the High Druid placed his fingers upon her brow and whispered her true name in her ear. Even as he spoke, Aeden saw Fianna’s startled reaction. Aeden wondered what name she had been given but recognized that he would probably never know as one’s true name was only ever shared with one’s closest friends. Next old Liam escorted Fianna to the small druid adept who was divining the quests. Normally this was all done by Liam himself, but then again, Bretharc had never had a Nameday ceremony with more than one druid present. The withered old Druid Finnis cast something that Aeden could not see upon the table and he studied it for several moments. Mellan walked over and joined him, and finally Finnis looked up at the head of his order. He waited until Mellan had worked out the meaning that he had already divined.
The moment that Mellan recognized what Finnis had already determined he looked up questioningly at his fellow druid, who nodded ever so slightly. Mellan spoke ever so quietly to Fianna for a long time, and when he finally finished speaking she looked at him as though unsure for what seemed like an eternity. Finally she nodded affirmatively and turned to walk from the stone circle, through the gathered crowd and off Stonehill, headed back toward the village without a word to anyone.
A stir of confused murmuring passed through those gathered. The quests were usually as public as the true names were not, and clearly the druids intended for no one to know what Fianna’s task had been. No one in Bretharc would dare question a druid’s judgment, especially not the High druid, but change made these simple folk as nervous as the swine they raised.
Mellan continued to act as though nothing unusual had occurred as he called the next of the Nameday candidates, a young girl who Aeden barely recognized. She was the baker’s daughter, and after her naming Finnis cast the oracle which Aeden saw this time as simple fews not unlike the one that he held in his hand, and from this her quest was determined. This time Mellan loudly pronounced her quest to the assembled villagers. She was to acquire a recipe for way bread from Liam and learn to bake the long lasting meal in such quantities as to feed entire villages through the cold winters. If indeed she could manage this task perhaps the lean years would be a little less lean. This seemed a harder quest than usual, but the open pronouncement and the handling of the matter was more traditional and helped to ease the collective tension of the villagers that Fianna’s secretive task had caused.
Faolan was third and his friends all clapped him upon the back as he walked slowly to the altar. Aeden saw his friend’s quick smile as his name was given to him. His quest was as secretive as Fianna’s and when he walked away without question, going in the opposite direction of Fianna, Aeden’s was consumed with curiosity.
Next came Quinn, and as expected he was given his name and when the oracle was read it was pronounced that he would learn the ways of the druids. The only surprise was the rather than be apprenticed to old Liam, he would learn from Mellan himself. Though this was yet another surprise the stir it aroused in the crowd this time was one of pride. Never had such an honor been bestowed upon one of the folk of Bretharc, and in the wake of this news the people forgot all about the unusual nature of the proceedings thus far.
The two other girls came next and Aeden barely paid any attention to their quests as he was too caught up in listening to the whispers of the crowd around him. Teagan, Riordan and he were all that remained. As Teagan mounted the last steps to the altar, Aeden heard a sound right behind him. Turning he noticed a figure dressed all in leathers like a soldier darting away through the crowd. The noise had been at his feet and when he looked he was surprised to find his own pack along with his new sword lying on the ground right in front of him. Before he could give thought the strange delivery Riordan was tapping his arm. His turn had come.
Aeden was in a state of confusion as he mounted the steps. He met Teagan on her way down and could see the tears welling in her eyes. Aeden wished he had not been distracted by the sudden appearance of his gear and found himself desperately desiring to comfort Teagan though he couldn’t imagine what had upset her so. There was nothing he could do but continue however, so with a growing sense of dread he crossed the last few feet to stand before the altar.
Swineherd
As Mellan touched his forehead, he whispered “Muccodha” in Aeden’s ear. Aeden felt as though he had been kicked in the groin as the names meaning sank in. He could not meet the druid’s gaze as he contemplated being known to his closest friends as Aeden the Swineherd. He wanted to scream out in defiance at this proclamation. How could this be his name? He would not be a swineherd for the remainder of his years! According to tradition, the druids were never wrong in their naming, and the name given had both meaning and power. Mellan tapped his brow rather roughly with his fingertips before drawing his hand away. Aeden was forced from his reverie and made to look up. The look on Mellan’s face was one of stern disapproval, laced with concern.
Finnis cast the fews and with only a cursory inspection of them pronounced his doom. “Aeden’s quest shall be to escort us to the river when we leave the village!”
Aeden wondered if he could be more humiliated. His big quest was to escort a couple of aging druid’s a few hours walk on a sunny afternoon, even rounding up a few feral pigs to protect the potato fields seemed exciting by comparison. Aeden turned to walk down the steps when Finnis caught his arm.
“Shoulder your pack and keep that blade in easy reach; before this nightfall you may wish you’d been given a less arduous task. We leave this place as soon as this last young man is given his name and quest.”
This turn of events was unexpected. Quickly he moved to gather his gear and prepare for his journey. By the time he was laden with pack and provisions Riordan had been given his name and quest which as expected was to be apprenticed to Liam.
Liam stepped up at this point and smoothly took over the ceremony, beginning the closing ritual even as Mellan, Finnis, and Quinn proceeded down the hill at a somber pace. The gathered villagers drew apart to open a way for the company. It was in that moment that Aeden first noticed the strangers. There were three people among those assembled that Aeden had never before seen in Bretharc.
The most prominent was a grizzled old man with one eye who in the crowd calmly watching the events. His visage was such that Aeden was intrigued by the fact than none of the villagers seemed to take notice of him. The other two were another matter. Though they were dressed like everyone else and their appearance less hideous than that of the old man, the crowd began to part around them in rising terror. The reason became obvious in moments as Aeden saw that they brandished knives and were rushing at Mellan who was occupied talking to Quinn as they walked down the steps of Stonehill.
For only an instant, Aeden stood paralyzed, as the assailants charged his friend. As the would be assassins passed between him and the old man he noticed the old man motioning for him to cut them off. A rush of fear and anger swept over him and he leapt forward to bar the path to his friend and the druid, but he was too late. Rather than move in front of the two men, he ran right into the closest of the attackers and his momentum knocked the man from his feet causing him to crash into the legs of the other man.
They fell together, arms and legs flailing for purchase as a mob of angry villagers struck at them with staves and stones. In seconds the two men were bloodied and either dead or dying. Aeden looked around but couldn’t see the old man anywhere. A han
d touched his elbow causing him to start. He realized that his sword was out, in his hand, and he had nearly skewered Liam who was at his elbow with Riordan.
“Come lad, let’s get out of here before they make you into a hero” Liam whispered, guiding both Aeden and his new apprentice away from the crowd and over Stonehill toward the north pastures. The open country around Bretharc proper provided little cover, and Aeden could tell Liam sought to hide them from the village by taking this route.
“Liam, I have to go back. I’m to escort the High Druids to the river!” Aeden said in hushed but forceful whisper that he could not have imagined using with the old Druid before.
“Aeden, we will meet them on the road by the outer pastures. Trust me when I tell you those men can take care of themselves. Riordan is our greatest priority; he must be protected at all costs” Liam replied, his words laced with dire imports and warnings that Aeden could not even begin to unravel. Something was amiss in what he said, something simple yet meaningful that Aeden could not unravel no matter how he tried.
As confused as he was by this statement, Aeden had little choice but to follow
