Highland Raven (15 page)

In the days before the Samhain,
I stayed busy preparing for the celebration and tried not to focus solely on Banquo’s return. Uald and I arranged rocks around the center cauldron in the shape of a star. We then banked up five fires at each of the star’s points. Aridmis and I collected gourds, acorns, and late fall herbs to adorn the tables. The others were busy as well. In preparation for the event, Druanne and Sid had gone to prepare a special elixir that would loosen the spirit and allow us to interact with our ancestors.

“The elixir of the ancestors is a heavy potion. Druanne must fast and pray in order to prepare it properly. She and Sid have journeyed to a sacred place to prepare the draft,” Epona told me when I’d gone looking for Sid.

“The mound?” I asked.

Epona shook her head. “There are many sacred places nearby. You will learn them all, in time.”

I frowned. I didn’t like the idea of Druanne and Sid together. I knew Sid would watch over Druanne, would keep her safe, but who would watch over Sid? The thought of the two of them together made me feel nauseated. As I waited, I also worked alongside Bride, who had been repairing and making new ceremonial masks.

One evening before Samhain, I sat working in Bride’s small house. Her home had two small bedrooms, one reserved for the mysterious Tully who I had not yet met, set off from a main sitting room where we worked in front of a stone fireplace. Her room was adorned with dried flowers and framed embroidery. It was warm and clean and smelled like milled soap. Bride had unbraided her long, gray hair and let it fall freely all around her. She looked lovely, but ancient, in the firelight. Her lined face wrinkled like ripples on the water.

“When the moon rises, we will all wear our masks so the gods may come more freely amongst us, and the Samhain potion will loosen our spirits. The dead will wander freely amongst the living. You never know who you will see, my dear,” she said as she handed me one of the completed masks, “but I know the last person I want to see is my late husband!” she added with a laugh which I joined.

“You suppose old MacAlpin will visit me?” I asked jokingly.

Bride smiled and shook her head. “We both best be careful whose names we whisper on the wind. After all, you keep what you conjure,” Bride said, then looked thoughtful. “Maybe I’ll see that young buck who lifted my skirts on Beltane eve when I was fifteen, if he’s on the other side,” she said, then laughed again. “He had such lovely eyes, lovely skin. In fact, he looked a bit like your druid.” Bride winked at me.

My druid. I grinned at her then studied the stag mask I held in my hands. Half of the mask had been made from the skull of a stag, its antlers still intact. It had been sewn onto a pelt so it might be worn over the head. Small bells and feathers had been strung to the antlers. I set the mask into the basket with the others. Within, I saw that Bride had made a mask with black raven feathers. I lifted the mask. She had shaped the leather so the face looked like a beak.

Bride smiled. “I made that one for you.”

“Thank you,” I said, lifting the mask to my face. It touched me that she had made something for me in particular, a gift for the new me. I looked out the eye-slits. I was struck with a strange, dizzying sensation.

“Not yet,” Bride said, gently taking the mask from my hands. “It may look simple enough, but every stitch is a spell. It is the craft of the Crone,” she said with a grin, her blue eyes twinkling. “One day you will learn,” she added then set the mask into the basket with the others, “when you are gray like this old hare,” she added with a chuckle.

* * *

On Samhain eve morning, the jingling of rigging woke me. With no regard to the tangle my hair had become nor the fact that I was still wearing my bed clothes, I jumped from bed and ran to the coven square: Banquo had come. My heart pounded in my chest. Finally, he had returned.

“Merry met!” I called to Banquo and Balor.

Balor smiled as he removed the red hood he was wearing, uncovering his bald head. “Blessed Samhain to you, Lady Cerridwen.”

“And to you, Wise Father,” I replied, but my eyes had already turned to Banquo. I fought back tears of joy.

Banquo dismounted and rushed to me, catching me up in his arms. “My dear,” he whispered in my ear, kissing me on the cheek.

Behind me, the door to Epona’s house opened. I didn’t see her, but I could feel her behind me. She cleared her throat.

Banquo set me down. Blushing, he turned and bowed respectfully to her. “My Lady,” he said, “may the Old Ones smile on you.”

She laughed good-naturedly then clapped him on the shoulder. “Dear Banquo. May your ancestors bless you on this holy day.” She then gave Banquo an odd look, the expression looking like something between curiosity and sympathy, and I wondered why. Was she unhappy with the relationship that had grown between us or did she know something?

I didn’t care. It was Samhain eve, the night when the dead walked, and Banquo and I were together again. It was the holiday that marked the new year for those who celebrated the old ways. The harvest done, the Goddess would begin her winter slumber.

Aridmis emerged from her cabin to welcome Balor and Banquo, and Uald stuck her head out of the smithy.

“Cerridwen,” Uald called. “You and Banquo can come help me.”

Banquo and I crossed the square while casting nervous glances at one another. My stomach was full of butterflies. I felt so happy but also uneasy. Had Banquo talked to his father? Did he have any news? Would he be angry to learn I had nothing to tell him? Would he wait longer? My mind was filled with a thousand questions and worries.

“Are you all right?” Banquo asked. “When you sent the casting, I worried.”

I smiled at him. “I just missed you desperately.”

“I’m glad I was able to make it in time. I nearly had to enchant Lord Thorfinn in order to get him to release me. But he is a romantic. When I told him I traveled to see my love, he let me go.”

I squeezed Banquo’s hand, but remembering Madelaine’s words about Thorfinn, my mind spun with a flurry of questions. “A romantic, eh? Is Thorfinn wed? In love?”

“He’s mad for a girl from Norway, doing anything he can to win her hand. He’s almost as mad as I am for you.”

We stopped at the gate of the smithy. Uald was in the barn.

Banquo leaned in and kissed me quickly. I reached up and touched his face. His beard was filling out. It looked handsome on him and was long enough that it felt soft to the touch. I gazed into his chestnut-colored eyes.

“Later…let’s talk?” Banquo asked.

I nodded just as Uald came around the corner of the smithy. She stood with her hands on her hips, a bemused expression on her face. I noticed then that she was dressed for hunting. Her hair was pulled up into a braided bun at the back of head, her bow strung on her back.

“Well, did I give you enough time?” she asked.

I winked at her. “No.”

“Sorry,” she said with a laugh. “Hurry it up a bit next time. Let’s go.”

“Go?” Banquo asked.

“I’m headed out to check my traps. We need game for tonight’s celebration. The ancestors will be hungry. But if you’d rather stay…” she said, looking behind us.

Banquo and I turned. Balor, Epona, Aridmis, and Bride had already gathering in a circle to begin what Sid had forewarned me would be a long day of prayer.

“Lead the way,” Banquo said, and soon we were following Uald into the forest.

Kelpie and the other horses nickered at us as we passed the pen into the woods. Soon, we were deep in the woods. Most of the trees had lost their leaves. The bright autumn hues of orange and red had faded to dull brown. It was cold at night, and in the morning, the first frosts froze the grasses, making them brittle. The loamy scent of the decay of fall had started to fade, replaced by the nose-chilling wind and the threat of snow.

Uald led us to an area in the woods where I’d never traveled before. Here, the trees were massive. The last leaves clung to the branches, twisting like bats hanging from the limbs.

“A moment,” Banquo called as we passed under an ancient oak tree. He pulled a small golden sickle from his belt, stuck it between his teeth, then grabbed a limb and pulled himself up into the tree. “Mistletoe,” he explained through clenched teeth.

As he pulled himself up, his tunic lifted, and I saw the line of dark hair trailing down his muscular stomach and below his waistline. My body tingled as I thought about that day at the spring and the feel of his hands. Banquo easily pulled himself up into the tree.

“Cut a bundle for me as well,” Uald called up to him.

We stood under the tree and watched as Banquo moved adeptly amongst the limbs harvesting the herb. For the Druids, mistletoe was one of the most sacred of all herbs.

“He is nice to look at,” Uald said. She cocked her hip and grinned as she looked at Banquo, her lips pulling to one side.

“I thought you didn’t care for romantic nonsense,” I teased.

“I’m not being romantic. He’s just nice to look at. But I do like him. I hope it ends well for you.”

Madelaine. Madelaine, where are you?
I thought. How could I explain to Banquo? I still wasn’t sure what I was going to say. I knew, without a doubt, that Banquo and I belonged together. But I still could not tell him who I was for risk of losing it all.

Banquo jumped from the branches and landed with a grunt, righting himself at once. He handed a clutch of mistletoe to Uald who nodded to him in thanks, stuck the herb into her game sack and headed back into the forest.

“I was surprised to see you,” Banquo told me when Uald was a good distance ahead of us.

“The casting?”

He nodded.

“Sid is teaching me to control my power.”

“You once mentioned that you too have walked in the forgotten spaces.”

I nodded.

“Where did you go?”

For a moment, I thought of the Wyrd Sisters. I had not seen them in so long. Perhaps they were done with me. “I’m not exactly sure,” I said with a shake of the head.

“Once I—” Banquo began.

“Here,” Uald called.

We hurried up to Uald who was standing over a trap where a small hare struggled to get free. Uald motioned for me to open up the bag. Grabbing the hare with her gloves hands, she snapped the creature’s neck then tossed him in the bag.

My mind drifted, dreaming of the taste of roasted rabbit. I hadn’t eaten since the evening before. I was starving. The fast had me feeling dizzy. But of course, this flesh was not for me. Tonight we would serve our ancestors. We would welcome them back to the realm of the living, offer them a feast, and pray for their guidance. It was Samhain eve. Tonight, the dead would walk.

After we emptied Uald’s traps, we started back toward the coven. Then suddenly Uald stopped.

“Nine Ash,” Uald said as she pointed west. “Follow nine ash trees. They will lead you home. I have something I need to take care of. You’ll reach the coven in about half an hour…or so,” she said with a wink then left us alone. She disappeared into the trees, whistling as she wandered away from us.

“Where is she going?” Banquo wondered aloud.

I suspected she was headed to check on Druanne and Sid, but I didn’t say so. It was not my place to divulge my sister’s secrets. And I also suspected Uald had formulated this plan just to give us this time alone. I was grateful to her.

Despite the chill in the air, the long walk had made me hot. I was parched and my head hurt, but Epona had forbidden us to drink. “Can we rest a bit?” I asked Banquo, motioning to a boulder near the first ash tree.

He nodded then joined me on the rock. I rubbed my eyes and stretched out my long legs.

“So you missed me?” Banquo asked with a teasing smile as he took my hand, “my lady with the violet eyes.” He touched my chin gently.

“Enough to jump out of my skin for you!”

He laughed. “Then it must be love. I certainly haven’t had a woman do that for me before. But then again, I’ve never met anyone quite like you.”

I smiled softly at him.

He leaned in and gently kissed my lips. “Sweet priestess of the cauldron,” he whispered. “I did stop in Lochaber when I traveled north. My father…he wants me to serve alongside Jarl Thorfinn for a year before he will hear of any marriage. But he did say, perhaps, if he knew more about the lady he could be convinced otherwise. He wasn’t keen on the mystery of your identity, though Balor vouched for your lineage without divulging details. It seems my master knows who you are. And your aunt, did she…?”

“I spoke to her and pled our case. We have a male relative—my uncle—who must decide. Ultimately, it is for him to say. I haven’t heard from my aunt. I don’t know my uncle’s decision on the matter yet.”

“Cerridwen,” he said looking closely at me, “Lochaber is a vast holding. Surely, I am a good match for you.”

I sucked in my bottom lip, chewing on it as anxiety wracked my stomach and made my already pounding head feel worse. What could I say? He was right. For just about any girl in the land, he was a great match, and he loved me. And I loved him. “You, my love, are the only match for me,” I said, leaning in to kiss his sweet lips. I caught the scents of rosemary and mint in his hair. I inhaled deeply, trying to draw in his very essence.