The Warrior and the Druidess (7 page)

He rose up on his elbow and gazed at her eyes, which were closed in sleep, exposing the long fringe of her lashes. His gaze settled on her lips. He lowered his mouth to hers, and, with a gentle kiss, soft and warm, his soul melted.

Women always came at his beckoning. They liked virile, handsome warriors, and he knew it. They had hungered for him since he was little more than five and ten turns of the year. But after he bedded them for a moon cycle or more, he needed another— prettier or sweeter or more adventurous—a new delight. Tanwen’s radiance, her unsurpassed strength—well, she was different. She was both sweet and bold, and he had to have her. She wore on his mind and burned in his heart.

Her eyes flew open. “What time is it? I have to go.”

“Go where?” His lips covered hers as he drank in her sweetness.

She pulled away and rose. “The ritual of foresight is today.” She picked up her clothes. “The gods await.”

He raked his eyes down her oval face and the soft color of her lips. As she slipped her tunic dress on over her head, his gaze slid down to her smooth breasts, to her ample thighs and shapely legs, until they were covered.

“I’ll stay on the hill alone fasting for the next three days.” She pulled on the flowing purple, gold-speckled robe. She wrapped her white, gold-speckled cloak around her.

“I had forgotten.”
Three days. I cannot wait three days to lie with you again.
“I shall come with you.”

“No, you cannot.” She slipped on her shoes. “For the prophesy, for your tribe… our tribe.” She pinned on the silver broach. “The gods will not grant it to me if I’m not alone.” She slid the gold clasps onto her ears. “Only my body will be on the holy hill. My mind must be with the gods.”

The wry smile she flashed enticed him even more. “Would coupling not heighten your perception?” His shoulders shifted in a slight shrug. “I’ve never had a vision, but I’m sure the nearest I’ve come to it is the eruption—the ecstasy in bedding a woman.”

A trill of laugher spilled from her as she turned and ducked out of the wheelhouse. He pulled his tunic and braes on as fast as he could and chased her. She called for Gethin, who came with the druid drum in hand. Taking the sacred instrument, she continued on as Brude followed her all the way to the base of the hill.

Brude took the drum from her and set it on the ground. Then, he gathered her into his arms. Her soft curves molded to the corded muscles of his body. His lips descended to meet hers. With his hands locked against the smooth plane of her back, his mouth swooped down on hers. As his lips twisted over hers, fire spread through him.

She pulled away. “You must see to the other chiefs, our allies, now.” Her face flushed, and her eyes gleamed with yearning. “Use this time to test them and their men, so when Calach blows the battle horn, you will know the strength and weakness of all you lead to war.” She bent down and grabbed the drum.

“Ever the druidess.” His lips burned, aching to cover hers.

“You, better than anyone, know I am a woman as much as a druidess.” She headed up the trodden path, and then turned her head back to him. “But this is not the time or place.”

He grinned at the sway of her hips as she climbed the trodden path cut in the grassy hill. His arousal swelled again, but he left her to her duty.
I will forever have to share my wife with the gods. It will not be the marriage I had in mind.

* * * * *

A thick mist engulfed Tanwen as she reached the top of the hill. She stood in front of the great standing stone. “Pillar of stone, giant of rock, the ancients labored in pain and sacrifice to move you to the top of this green hill where your magic stands for all the people who came after them. I seek your wisdom. You have been here longer than all the trees of the forest, and within you is more wisdom than any oak could contain. Speak to me. Lead me. You have been on this earth since time out of mind; you know all its secrets. I seek the way to halt the Romans. Tell me what we need to do, spirit stone.”

She sat on the ground with her back and head leaning against and supported by the stone. Her energy fused with it. She stretched out her feet into the most comfortable of all positions. She soothingly bid her muscles to relax as she concentrated on the rush of her breath—in and out, a sound like the purr of a waterfall.

She thought about land for that was what the stone represented, that was where it drew it’s magic from. The land allowed them to be here. The chiefs married the land. If the land liked the chief, the crops were good. If it didn’t accept the chief, the crops were bad, and a new chief was chosen. They gave to the land, and the land gave to them. They honored the gods of the land, gods of the fields, gods of the springs, the rivers, the sea, and gods of the air, gods of the sun, the moon, and gods of the hunt, the cattle, and the mountains. The land wanted them here. It allowed them to live on it.

But the land didn’t accept the Romans. It was not their land. They imposed themselves on it. They brought foreign gods that did not honor this land. They brought animals and crops that were not native to this land. The Celts wanted them gone, and the land wanted them gone. She concentrated on the one question— How do we get rid of the Romans? She saw herself in a chariot, brandishing a long sword and leading the troops on a battlefield to fight the legionaries. But Tanwen knew that path failed her grandmother, Boudica, as it would her. She began again, whispering aloud, “Ancient stone, from your wisdom, I ask prophecy. Spirit stone, lead me to she who fights for the land. Summon Andraste to me.”

Slowly, she hit her palms upon the leather hide of the drum. She concentrated on the pounding beat, like that of a galloping horse. “Come Andraste. Ride to me.” The Goddess galloped forth on her magic stallion, Maten. Tanwen leapt upon the mighty horse and rode it on the spirit journey. She wrapped her arms taut about Andraste’s waist. The horse’s hooves hammered fiercely and swiftly. They rode to the battlefield again. This time, Brude fought beside her. Suddenly, her eyes fell only on him, with no notice of the Romans. He fought nude, with naught but the power of his sword and the woad symbols upon him. His skin glistened with sweat. His muscles bulged.

“No. This is not the answer I seek. I have not come to think of Brude. Goddess of battle fury, shifter of the hare, I wipe Brude from my mind. I open my mind to you. Give to me as I give to you. Answer me this, how might we defeat of the Romans?”

Andraste turned the great beast, Maten, around and galloped with the wind through the air to a Roman fort in Caledonia.

* * * * *

It’s been a day, a full day she’s been up on the hill alone. This is what it will be like to be married to a druidess.
Brude picked up a piece of wood. He lit the firebrand from the central hearth, and then he banked the fire. He walked out of the wheelhouse, holding the torch. Even in the depth of night, the fat, waxing moon beamed as he headed toward the hill. He took his time with every step, every movement. Halfway up the hill, he laid the firebrand down. He kicked dirt over it to extinguish the flame, hoping the dark of night concealed him. He crept the rest of the way up the hill. The light of the moon allowed him to barely make her out. She lay at the foot of the stone on her cloak, asleep.

Brude had snuck up here to watch over her unnoticed. He headed to the edge of the hill where the forest began, to hide there. He had to. Something could happen to her, up here alone for three days with naught but water. He had to be here. He had to protect her. After all, he was betrothed to her. Even though he still hoped to find a way out of the marriage, it didn’t mean he wanted her to be mauled by the Romans. He spread his cloak out on the ground and lay down. Now that he knew she was safe, sleepiness overcame him. At last, he could rest. His mind drifted into a deep dream.

He woke to find the sun had already risen. He had gone to bed so late that he had awakened late. He stood slowly, trying not to make any noise, and he lifted his cloak off the ground. He shook the dirt from it and wrapped it over his shoulders. He stood behind the tree so it concealed him, and he moved his head slightly so he could see her. She had wakened, and she now sat with her back against the stone. She appeared to be in a trance.

Is this what she would do for the next three days? Is this what she did all day yesterday? She had but one skin of water and no food. His belly rumbled. He'd eaten a full meal yesterday, but he needed to break his fast. With small steps, he moved as silently as he could. He came upon a bush of bilberries and stuffed the juicy morsels in his mouth. He swiped the juice off his face with the back of his hand. When he made his way back to the edge of the woods, he noticed she still sat there, her position unchanged, in deep concentration. Her mind had traveled somewhere only druids went. Whether the past or the future or the otherworld, he didn’t know. But he would make sure she came back from there and back down the hill unharmed in two days.

He had an urge to know what she was doing, to understand it better. He was a warrior, not a druid. Why did he care? He knew the answer, she brought out the concern in him. She made him a better man.

The words “dangerous” and “trouble” popped into his head. He had known that the first time he saw her. He’d been chasing a wild boar and diverted his eyes way from the hunt. He couldn’t help it. She stood there like some goddess who had come from the otherworld to hunt him the way he hunted that boar. That was the look in her eyes, the fiery gaze of a predator who wanted to capture him. He was caught, her prey forever, the moment his eyes met hers…those emerald shards. When he launched his spear and slew the beast, she told him, ‘Good throw’. He’d craved her praise ever since.

Yet, Tanwen made it clear that she did not want to wed because of any attraction for him, no, she was just following her ancestor’s order.  Seducing him, marrying him, all of it came to nothing more than her druid duty.  He wasn’t going t to get caught up in that. That wasn’t the type of marriage he would have.

Brude grew mad with boredom. He moved about the forest, returning now and then to a spot where she was within his sight. As still as a rock, she had sat in the same place without moving. The sun was high in the sky when she shifted her back against the stone, and, reaching for her water skin, she took a long drink. She set it back and returned to her intense mental quest.

He didn’t get much sleep last night. He drifted off and, when he awoke, all was engulfed in darkness. The moon was waning, so there was a bit less light than the night before. He headed toward Tanwen. She was lying asleep on her plaid cloak in front of the long stone.

He could not go to this place she visited. She walked the path of a druid to help him and the other warriors. She had to go there alone. He understood now. In the dark of night, he made his way down the hill and back to the wheelhouse.

He woke up in his wheelhouse without her on the third day that she fasted on the hill. Throughout the day, his mind turned with thoughts of her. He yearned for her more and more. Still he could not forget that she did not feel the same about him.

Near the end of the day, he gasped as he heard her voice. He ran toward the hill to see her speeding down it. She called to him, “Brude, get your sire, Chief Calach. The gods have tidings for him.”

* * * * *

The glowing sun beamed down from the clear, azure sky, but the vision was a thick mist clinging to Tanwen’s mind. Whipped out of the present and thrown into the raid to come, she rubbed her head. She struggled to pull away from the fire, the blood and the screams, and to root her spirit back in the here and now.

Her heart hammered as she ran down the hill toward the chief. The gods bestowed their foresight and handed the Caledonians a victory, but only if Calach heeded her vision. Otherwise, the advantage would be lost. Now or never, together, the tribes had to move as one.

As she called for Calach, the villagers ran toward the chief’s wheelhouse. She combed her fingers through her hair. She must look a fright— no food, no sleep, no mirror and no bath for three days. But it well worth the insight the gods gave her.

Before she made it halfway to the chief’s wheelhouse, Calach rushed up to her with Brude at his side. Brude looked at her with a seductive gleam in his eyes. He didn’t seem to even notice her disarray. They stood in the middle of the village with the entire tribe and the visiting chieftains, as well.

“Hail druidess. What message have the gods brought forth?” Calach pierced her with an intense gaze as he waited for an answer.

“Hasten! You must raid the camp of the 9
th
Legion at once. Now separated from Agricola, they are vulnerable, but only at night. The gods granted me foresight of the attack, and we were the victors.”

Brude pulled her into his arms and spun around. “You will bring us a victory.” He pressed his open lips to hers in a warm kiss of celebration.

She’d hungered for his wet, delicious kiss. It was like fire on her mouth. What happened to the crowd that had clamored around them? No Romans, no chiefs—just Brude holding her in his warm embrace against his broad, throbbing chest. She and Brude— what else could there be?

It was no longer a kiss of celebration, but a kiss of passion, of longing. It was a declaration that he had missed her as much as she’d missed him. Completely, she gave in to his passion. The caress of his mouth stroking hers set her heart racing. He crushed her to him. She savored every moment of pure pleasure as he plundered her mouth and her senses.

He eased his lips off hers and gazed into her eyes. Her mouth burned with fire.

The chief yelled out in joy, “Let it be so.” He turned to the crowd. “Come nobles, chieftains and warriors, to the hall.” He gazed back at her. “Druidess, impart the message the gods blessed you with.”

“Yes, Chief Calach.” She felt a loss as Brude released her from his embrace. A moment ago, nothing had been as important as the vision. But that was before she’d realized how much she had ached for Brude, though they had only been apart for three days.