by C.S. Fanning
some of you are surely aware. Trust no one that you don’t know. Riordan, it is time for you to step up and lead now, Fianna has her own work ahead.”
Everyone was surprised at the notion of Riordan leading them, turned to look at him, standing alone with his back straight and his cloak billowing around him in the gusts. Though still young he looked the part of a druid now. More shocking than the words of Ogma or the realization, slow to come, that the entry had vanished leaving them alone on a hilltop in the weather was Riordan’s tone when he spoke.
“If I’m not mistaken, and I can ill afford to be, just over this hill is Luinneach, and there we can find a warm inn to discover what has occurred in our absence and decide on an appropriate course of action” he told them. Mounting his horse more gracefully than any of them had before witnessed, he turned and began to ride without even looking to see if he was being followed.
Aeden and Fianna looked at one another in open mouthed shock. The petty rivalry between them was made mute if Riordan was to be their leader. Already they had doubts, Luinneach was near the mouth of the Shannon, weeks of travel from Ogma’s cavernous home, but there was little they could do at the moment but follow. It occurred to both that to be his advisor’s rather than leader or protector was to shed a burden never intended to remain upon their young shoulders for long.
In less than an hour they were lined up on a ridge looking down onto the largest town any of them had ever seen. Beyond the town they could see the loch which joined the sea somewhere beyond the horizon. Smoke rose from hundreds of chimneys and people bustled about in the town below in such a mundane pattern that it was possible for moment to forget that their lives had been turned upside down for weeks at the least.
Luinneach
The early nightfall of a midwinter day seemed to follow them down the mountain as they rode into the town. Luinneach was a lot like Bretharc, only a lot bigger. Over a thousand men, women, and children called it home and from the looks of things there were many a traveler passing though at any one time. Along the water front they found an inn that was well pleased to have customers, for in winter the ships that kept the port laden with people and goods were few and far between.
Aeden and Faolan were looking forward to exploring the town but Riordan spoiled their plans announcing that he wanted them all to meet and discuss where they were headed from here. In the end they struck a compromise. The girls would got to their room and clean up while the boys went and enjoyed a meal at the tavern across the roadway. When the meal was concluded they could switch, and everyone could be clean and well fed before they began trying to decide what to do next.
“My friends, I know some of you are skeptical, bit I know things of which you are not aware, and can guess a few more” Riordan began. “I’m sure you are aware that time for us has passed at a different rate while we were in Ogma’s dwelling, but what you don’t realize is that we stepped into the shelter of that dwelling two and a half years ago!”
The five companions he addressed reacted with a wild assortment of reactions ranging from silent surprise to outright denial.
“Friends, I know it’s hard to accept, and what I am about to tell you may be harder still but I believe the goal of our journey is utterly changed. It is my belief that the druids have already lost the war they were trying to protect us from.”
This prediction caught everyone’s attention as Riordan moved on towards the cusp of his brief speech. “Ogma’s comments about things changing were suggestive, but the strange looks we got in the tavern tell me that the people are no longer used to seeing traveling druids and suspect that already we are in growing danger.”
As if he had planned it, there came a wrapping upon the door. The three young warriors were at the door with their weapons at the ready in the blink of an eye. Cautiously, Quinn opened the door and stepped back looking relieved. Finnis was at the door but he looked more than old now, he looked like a broken shell. His robes were tattered and his sunken eyes looked hollow. Were it not for the rasping breath that whispered from his lips in the cold night air they might well have thought that they faced the ghost of the man they once knew.
Finnis paused only a moment before slipping into the room and closing the door behind him. He slid the bar into place and turned to stare at each of them in turn. None of the group could imagine what could have made this powerful druid look so frighteningly out of sorts. His eyes looked into each of their own in turn searchingly, as though measuring them to see if indeed they were who they appeared to be. As his eyes searched Riordan’s they suddenly grew wide with wonder.
“How?” he asked. A cryptic question for the others but Riordan seemed to understand what he was asking.
“Ogma” Riordan replied.
Finnis shook his head in wonder. “I can’t explain now, but we must go” he announced, the urgency in his voice compelling. “I have much to tell and I know you do as well, but if we don’t beat the soldiers to the harbor it is likely that we won’t live to tell it.”
Aeden didn’t hesitate, gathering his gear and preparing to follow the old druid immediately. The others took a moment longer, but still they were prepared to move in under a minute, arms, armor, and gear all ready to go. Finnis watched them all in amused surprise. “It seems you haven’t entirely wasted the years you’ve been gone” he said cracking a wry grin.
“Are you expecting more assassins?” Fianna asked, moving to the door and looking briefly through into the cold winter night.
“Young lady, those assassins you remember are now the kings own guard. Technically, I am required by law to hand you lot over to them, but then again, there is a price on my head too” Finnis replied.
“Let’s assume, until we get somewhere safe that anyone we meet is the enemy” Aeden whispered to her, and she readily agreed with a quick nod of her head. Aeden glanced at Riordan, who made a gesture of readiness, and then slipped through the door with Fianna close behind.
The rest paused only briefly as Aeden and Fianna checked the street. As the group slipped into the night, there was a moment when Aeden wondered if Finnis had overstated the danger. That feeling was soon shattered as a gruff voice behind them barked out “halt where you are!”
Aeden’s surprise at being discovered so quickly caused him to freeze for a split second, and that probably saved his life. Undoubtedly, their assailants were well prepared and at least somewhat forewarned about their abilities. The ball of fire that arched out of the darkness from the direction they had been moving was coming straight for his head when Aeden reflexively swung his sword in an arc to intercept it. Even as he did so he thought that it was a futile effort, but as the blade swept through the enchantment, it flickered and died in a puff of ash.
Aeden could hear the ring of steel behind him as Faolan clashed with at least one of their attackers, but he could not turn his attention or rush to his friend’s aid, as three robed figures stepped from the darkness before him. Though they did not wear the antlered crown of the sorcerer that had assailed them at the river, Aeden felt certain that they were allies and powerful in their own right. Before Aeden could move to close the distance, a voice so familiar and yet strange rang out beside him.
“Bow to your rightful leader, cast off this evil from foreign lands, and throw yourselves upon my mercy and you shall be spared” Riordan shouted in a resonating voice that caused Aeden to chance a quick sidelong look at his lifelong friend standing tall to his right, his staff aglow with power that Aeden did not realize Riordan possessed. Aeden was struck by the inspiring sight of his friend, and his fears and doubts vanished.
Apparently, his commanding presence had less effect upon their adversaries. The leader of the trio moved his hands in an intricate pattern, and Aeden could feel the concentration of power from his dark magic building as the sorcerer prepared to assail his friend and he instinctively moved to protect the young druid, but Finnis was quicker.
&nb
sp; The old man stood before Riordan, wreathed in Fairie Fire and defiant. He caught the fury of the dark spell and staggered under its onslaught. Aeden could feel the power at play between the two men through the connection with his sword. It was obvious that the old man was outmatched, but at the moment he was distracted by the nearest of the three robed figures as he began to surreptitiously gather energy for his own attack.
Leaping forward before the sorcerer could complete his spell, Aeden leapt forward, slicing the man’s head from his shoulders as easily as he might slice the air itself. Even as he did he felt the thrill of excitement that had possessed him on the plains when he had slain one assassin and chased another to his doom. He turned to face the next assailant but in the time that it took to turn, the attack from this quarter ended in a gale of magical force that broke the enemies’ bodies and minds.
Riordan knew that to lead he must have more than the High Druids staff; he had to demonstrate that he had the power to hold his divinely appointed office. It was one thing to have the God of Wisdom hand you a stick and tell you that you are destined to lead, it would be quite another to convince the mortal followers that it was true. Stepping around Finnis, he absorbed the
