Highland Raven (6 page)

Druanne looked away.

Epona smiled. “Is your blood stirring?”

“Me?” Aridmis said with a laugh that sounded like a chiming bell. “If I recall correctly, last year it was you who disappeared with that bald-headed Druid into the night.”

Everyone, save Druanne, giggled.

“True,” Epona said. “True enough,” she said with a wink. “You’re right. We should begin our plans. Balor and his men, including a new student, will be coming for the festivities. I have also asked the bards of the North to return. They seemed pleased at the invitation.”

“Of course they were pleased,” Uald grunted.

“Who is Balor’s new student?” Bride asked.

“A very promising acolyte; his name is Banquo.”

“Will you be here, Sid?” Aridmis asked.

“I should, but you know the barrows.”

“So when you say you’ll be back at Beltane, it means we’ll see you at the festival of Lughnassadh?” Uald said with a laugh.

Sid grinned at Uald.

“Will we have a maypole?” Ludmilla asked.

Druanne nodded. “As is customary. Pardon me, Epona, but I have already put together a list of tasks that need to be completed for the celebration. I will, however, need to make some adjustments since I didn’t know you invited additional guests.”

Epona only smiled then turned to me: “Druanne is in charge of the holiday celebrations. As one of the last female acolytes of the Druidic ways, she can best teach you the mysteries of the high holy days,” Epona told me.

“When will I begin her training?” Druanne asked Epona.

“She is going with Sid tomorrow, so I don’t know when she will be back. When she returns, however, I’d like to place her in Uald’s care until Beltane. By then, Ludmilla and Corbie will both be ready for their name-taking.”

“She will begin with Uald? Are you sure that is the wisest—”

“That is what we shall do,” Epona replied, cutting Druanne off.

Sid, arguing with the phantom of her shoulder, distracted us all. After some heated discussion she said, “I am told Corbie’s goddess has already revealed herself, that she already has a name.”

Epona set her spoon down. “And?”

Sid frowned.

“They won’t tell you?”

Sid shook her head.

“Come, Nadia, tell us,” Epona said, addressing Sid’s shoulder.

“They are forbidden to speak,” Sid answered.

“Who dares forbid our Good Neighbors?” Epona asked, looking very upset.

The other women looked from Epona, to me, to Sid.

I listened.

“You know who. Who has the courage and power to dare?” Sid replied then turned back to her food.

Epona looked at me then frowned. “Well, we will learn soon enough.”

One by one, each of the sisters departed after their meal. Druanne, I noticed, left in a huff without speaking to the others. Bride was still finishing her meal and chatting with Uald and Epona when I rose to leave. I filled a cup with a little cream, as Sid had suggested, then wished everyone goodnight.

Outside, I spotted Aridmis sitting at the side of the well. She held a large piece of parchment in her hands and was drawing on it as she looked toward the heavens.

“What do you see in those stars for me, seer?” I jested.

“Under what moon where you born?”

“I was born of the water bearer in the year 1010.”

“Let me look,” Aridmis said and peered into the night’s sky. She scribbled on her paper. “What do you want to know, fair or foul?”

I shrugged. “Often, what’s fair is foul and foul is fair.”

“You will wear a crown.”

“A crown?” Quite involuntarily my hand drifted toward my head.

“It’s not so bad a fate,” she said, looking again to her papers.

“But wed to whom? To Duncan?”

Aridmis smiled. “That I can’t quite see. But I do know one thing about Duncan.”

“What’s that?”

“He should beware of valkyries.”

Speechless, I stood quietly at her side for several minutes.

“Goodnight, sister,” Aridmis said, looking up. Her voice prompted me from my stillness.

“Yes, goodnight.”

I would wear a crown. What crown? At the side of what king? My mind boggled at the idea.

That night I dreamed I lay in Sid’s bed and cried. I saw Epona’s white hair and could hear her comforting voice, but I could not see what was the matter. All I knew was that I was hurt. Some part of my body ached terribly, and the room seemed very hot. It seemed to me that Madelaine was there, but I could not be certain. I heard Druanne chanting, her dry droning voice calling the Goddess. My body was soaked with sweat.

Then the pain cleared, and I was in a soft bed with rich coverings. I rolled over to find a pure white back in my face, masculine muscles curving smoothly. My hands roved upon his skin. The man turned to look at me. He had raven-black hair and clear blue eyes, and those eyes were filled with love.

“Wake up,” someone said, jiggling my shoulder
.

I opened my eyes to see Sid’s face peering into mine. She was leaning through the window. I hadn’t noticed the day before how delicate her features were. Her nose was small and pinched. Her green eyes sparkled from under long lashes. Her small mouth was rosy pink.

“Hurry and dress. We must race the sun,” she whispered.

I looked out the window behind her. It was still mostly dark, but the sun was on its way. I rose quickly and pulled on my boots, not stopping to dress in a fresh gown. Leaving my pup to the warm bed, I crept outside. Ludmilla stirred but did not wake.

Sid rounded the house and began to walk quickly toward the woods. “They liked the cream. You are forgiven.”

“What’s wrong with snowdrops?” I asked as I tried to wipe the sleep from my eyes. Suddenly, I felt as if my hair had been pulled. “Ouch!”

“Oh, you,” Sid said disdainfully, “don’t blame people for ignorance,” Sid scolded someone directly in front of her. “She’s sorry.”

“Who?”

“Nadia.”

“And Nadia is…” I asked, rubbing my head.

“A fairy. Don’t you see her? No, no one does. But, she’s right there,” Sid said waving her hand in front of her as she marched quickly through the forest.

“Sorry, Nadia. Please be patient with me,” I said as I hurried to keep up with Sid. Whoever the phantom Nadia was, I was very certain I wanted to be on good terms with her.

Sid laughed. “You’re making friends.” She moved quickly over beds of fern and through thickets. Then, as if remembering that she had not answered my question, she said, “Snowdrops are poison to fairies. They can’t go near them. If you ever fear an evil fey has fallen upon you, take up snowdrops.”

Sid kept one eye on the sky and another on the woods ahead of her. The sun was moving quickly upward. We moved through the forest with great haste.

“Sid, how will I be able to follow you?”

“You can ride the silver thread. Do it the same as you did before.”

“How do you know about that?”

Sid didn’t answer me.

I continued, “And, besides, I did it by accident.”

She looked over her shoulder at me. “There is no such thing as accidents. Do it on purpose this time.”

“And if I cannot?”

“Then you cannot.”

I turned and looked behind me. The village was out of sight, and no clear path returned to it. I was at Sid’s mercy.

We entered a valley where the ground was covered by a vast bed of moss, a barrow in the center. Domed like a turtle shell, it rose some eight feet high. It, too, was covered in lichen. Save its shape, it blended into the land, was part of the earth. The mounds were magical places. Many of the barrows were burial mounds. Ancient kings and queens and powerful bards and Druids had been buried within. The mounds were places where the worlds were thin. They were places where the faerie folk and beings from the other world crossed the border between our world and theirs, just as they did with the standing stones.

“Come on, Raven Beak,” Sid called as she charged right toward the barrow. Pushing some fern boughs away, she revealed a hole the size of a man in the barrow’s side. Grinning madly at me, she slid into the hole. Her feet hung outside for only a moment, and then she disappeared.

“Are you coming?” she called from within the barrow.

I balked.

“Quickly!” she added.

Frowning, I wiggled into the hole.

Sid’s hands found mine, and she pulled me through. It was terribly dark and I felt, not scared, but ill at ease. We both paused and let our eyes become accustomed to the darkness. After a few moments, the pre-dawn light coming from the small hole dimly illuminated the space, and I could see more clearly. I gasped as I saw a skeleton lying on an altar in the center of the barrow. It appeared to be female. There were heaps of silver trinkets at her feet.

“Don’t mind Boudicca. She won’t hassle you, of all people.”

I stared at the skeleton lying on the stone altar. “Is it really her?” I asked and took a step toward her. “The ancient Queen? Is it really her?” My skin cooled to goose bumps.

Sid laughed. “Don’t you remember this place? Well, maybe you wouldn’t. You were riddled with fever from that axe wound when we brought you here, accursed Romans, but I stayed beside you until you passed. Seems I can’t get far from this place.”

“Romans? What are you talking about? I’ve never been here before,” I said, but my mind bubbled up with terrible images, memories of it. A small party walked with me, carrying torches, as we headed toward the mound. I was limping, holding my side. It ached terribly. Blood had squished through my fingers. I remembered knowing I was dying. I remembered sweating, and feeling sick, and pain. And I remember my terrible fear, not for myself, but for my daughters who I would leave behind.

“Yes, you have. Long ago,” Sid said, motioning to the bones on the alter. “What other proof do you need? Here you are. I begged them to wall me in with you, to slit my throat. I wanted to stay with you…you, when you were Boudicca. The last time we were together. You don’t remember?”

I saw Sid in a flash of double vision. She had the same face, but her hair was long and very pale-blonde. She was dressed like a warrior. I saw her leaning over me, tears streaming down her cheeks. In my memory, I reached up to touch her face. Blood marred her pretty looks. She removed her helmet and laid her head on my chest. After that, there was nothing. Everything went black. I closed my eyes.

“Sid?” I whispered, feeling myself swoon.

Sid laughed.

“There is a chain between us. Never to be broken. We have been and will always be together. You’ve just forgotten. Now, keep those eyes closed. Concentrate on the fey,” she whispered. “Believe that they exist. Know that the portal to their world lies here. Try to hear them.” Her voice began to trail off. “When you are ready, open your eyes, and you will see the portal. Enter. I’ll wait on the other side.”

I stilled for several moments, concentrating, and then opened my eyes. I watched Sid walk into a shimmering halo of green light. She entered the light and disappeared. Trembling, I moved toward the portal, but it evaporated before my eyes. Everything went dark. Now there was nothing. I stood in the spot where Sid had passed through the portal. Nothing. I swore I could hear Sid’s voice in a whisper. I closed my eyes and tried to concentrate.

“See me,” I heard Sid beckon. “See me.”

I felt power surge up in me. It was a strange, tingly feeling. I opened my eyes. Green light glimmered before me, illuminating the cavern, shining its light on the bones of the dead queen. When I turned to look on the skeleton, the green light faded, and I couldn’t hear Sid anymore.

“Sid?” I called. A deep, empty silence fell all around me. My skin crept. “Sid? Sid, can you hear me?”

No answer came. I closed my eyes and tried to concentrate again, but anxiety racked me. I was too late. A glimmer of sunlight slanted though the hole in the side of the barrow. The sun had risen.

I puzzled at what to do. I was certain I couldn’t get back to the grove on my own. Distraught, I sat by the hole and stared at the bones. My hands were shaking. My comrade, who swore we knew each other in lives past, had just disappeared into the world of the fey, and I was alone with bones—my own? I felt the otherworld pungently around me, more strongly than I had ever felt it before. My skin chilled to goose bumps. My head began to feel very dizzy. The darkness around me felt heavy. I closed my eyes and heard the wings of a bird. Wings. My wings. Raven wings. I felt myself fly though the darkness.

“You’re halfway there,” a voice said.

Startled, I opened my eyes. I was sitting with my back against a wide gray column. Before me stood the Wyrd Sisters.

“Welcome back,” the older woman said.

The world around me was very dark.

“Sid?” I called. I rose to my feet and tried to look around. “Sid?”

“Sidhe is not here, though she is close,” the old woman said.

“Come, come to the cauldron,” the younger woman said.

“Come, Cerridwen,” the ancient matriarch called, motioning me forward.

The younger, red-haired woman frowned. “Not too much or Epona will hide her away.”

“Bah, Epona will do as the Goddess commands.”

“Cerridwen…why call me by the name of the Welsh Cauldron Goddess?” I demanded.

“Welsh!” the elder woman declared in disgust. “The Goddess of the Cauldron is eternal. She is known by many names…Cerridwen, Hecate, Astarte…all ladies of war and magic, all the same divine creature…all just like you.”

I frowned at her. Her answer felt like a riddle. “Why have you brought me here?”

The younger woman with the deep red hair grinned at me. “You tell us. Why have you come here?”

“I was in the barrow.”

“But your path ends here,” the red-haired woman said.

“Yet still, you are right, Epona will keep her too long,” the older woman complained.

“Epona can smell the magic on her, but that is not why Epona keeps her.”

“You’re right. It is Crearwy she desires.”

“And the other.”

“Look in your cauldron. The boy belongs to the world. Don’t you see the crown on his head?”

The women became silent, their eyes flicking back toward me.

“Come, Cerridwen. I will show him to you. I know you wish to see him,” said the elder.

“Who?”

“The man in your dream. Your raven-haired man with skin like snow and eyes the color of the sky,” said the younger.

“Your King,” added the elder.

Curiosity got the better of me. I stepped forward and looked in the cauldron. He was there, the man from my dream just the night before. He was in battle. I gasped. Many men were upon him, but a blond-haired giant, swinging a massive battle axe, cleared them away. My heart stilled. The women were watching me, but I didn’t care. I watched as the raven-haired man moved through the battlefield. He was beautiful. His clear blue eyes sought out his enemy. His cheeks were flushed red from battle vigor.

I reached out and touched his image in the cauldron. The liquid did not ripple like water; it felt soft like silk. I was surprised when the man stopped and looked around him.

“Can you feel me?” I asked.

“Yes,” he answered.

“Where are you?” I whispered.

“Caithness.”

“Can you see me?”

He shook his head. Then a fierce warrior came upon him. Hearing my voice had caused him to be off his guard. The huge man beat him down, forcing him to hide under his shield, and his blond-haired protector was nowhere in sight.

“No,” I yelled. “No!”

I suddenly found myself floating above the battlefield. Below me my raven-haired man and his foe struggled. I flew downward and knocked the foe away. My black-haired man rose and stabbed his enemy. He turned to face me, and it was clear he could see me.

From behind me, someone shouted my name: “Gruoch!”

I turned to see Sid. I was then pulled with a dizzying force back to the cauldron.

“What do you have in the cauldron today? Eye of newt? Toe of frog?” Sid seethed at the Wyrd Sisters.

“Peace, Sidhe,” said the ancient one.

Sid took my hand. “Come.”

“Come again, Cerridwen,” the younger woman called to me. “You are welcome here amongst your sisters.”

“Hecate watches. Don’t tangle the webs of fate too soon,” Sid chided them.

Sid led me forward into the darkness. Moments later, we emerged in the barrow near the altar of Boudicca.

“Our roads take us to different places in the other realm,” Sid whispered.

The barrow was dark. “Is it night?”

“Two days later.”

“How?”

“That is the way of the otherworld.”

“What do those women want from me?”

“The Dark Goddess is an angry Goddess. Her anger at losing her people to the White Christ makes her seethe. She is full of fury, battle, vengeance, and secret magic. She is the queen of darkness and night. Those women, and you, wear her face…Cerridwen,” she whispered.

“It is my father’s curse.”

“It is not a curse. Call her what you will, Scotia, Morrigu, Hecate, you belong to her. It is a rare coven. They are the most powerful beings in this land. And they want you. You will be an avenger, as the fey have said.”

“Must I go to them? They say Epona is keeping me.”

“Epona knows the will of the Goddess as sure as they know it. And she will do what she must. But first, you must learn to be in the seat of power, not riding alongside. We will train you.”

“Sidhe,” I whispered, repeating the name the elder of the Wyrd Sisters had called Sid.

She grinned. “It’s just a name. I won’t be impressed until you remember what you called me when you were Boudicca. Come on. I’m starving! I hope Epona has something sweet in her cupboards.”

I shook my head and grinned at her. My mind spinning, I followed Sid down a path between nine oak trees back to the coven.