Waves in the Wind (38 page)

Three days passed, yet Brendan remained silent about a new sailing date. It was understood by all that he was in prayer, and not to be disturbed. With little to occupy my hands and somber thoughts, I climbed to a high point above the village, perched upon a stone and gazed out to sea. When we sailed I would leave Eire, knowing it to be forever; from that point and throughout all eternity, it would be as though I had never existed.

It is a sober moment when a man realizes his entire life, all his hopes and dreams, had come to nothing. My many failures haunted me. What tracks had I made upon my homeland? What memorable thing had I accomplished to leave my mark?

Regrets solve nothing, prove nothing, create nothing, yet knowing that provided little solace—

I started at rustling in the heather behind me and spun about. My breath caught. She was there, she of the lovely face, flowing red hair and immaculate blue gown tracing her slender woman’s form as it draped to her feet.

“So, Ossian, we meet again.” Her husky voice sent a shiver down my back. “Why do you idle here in this lonely place? You look to the sea. Do you see your future there?”

I knew her then, as I should have immediately known her. Leaping to my feet, I bowed. “You honor me, My Queen. As for my poor musings, they remain here with our people on our green island.”

Mincing steps brought her to my side where she gracefully settled upon my stone. Motioning for me to retake my seat, she asked, “Here? Your future lies with Brendan’s voyage. You must think on that.”

Her nearness brought a flush to my face as I sat like a statue beside her. Never could I have even dreamt of a more desirable woman. A wind gust stirred a stray curl, and I resisted the urge to reach out and touch it, all the while cursing my foolishness. We were as far apart as life and death, she and I. Was she not Goddess of Death?

“Ossian, did you hear me?”

Flushing again, I regained my wits. “Yes, you are right, of course. Today my thoughts remain here along with my desire to stay and stand beside my people.”

“You would stand beside your people?” A sad smile crossed her perfect face. “I honor your courage and well know you would willingly do so, though it would mean the end of you. I have watched you more closely than you know, and never found your boldness lacking. No man but you ever had the courage to stand up to me and it is one thing I have come to…to admire about you.”

It was a remarkable compliment, and my heart warmed, though I remained respectfully silent.

Slender hands clasped in her lap, she shook her head. “I’m very sorry, but you must realize you would stand alone. The people have abandoned you and your ways as they have their gods. All but a few think only of the new god and the words of Christian priests. It’s too late. Your time has passed here, as has mine. You have lost, Ossian. Nothing remains here for you, so now your future lies to the west.”

I leaned forward, burying my face in my hands, realizing she was right, knowing how thoughtless I had been to cling to my beliefs in a time and place where I no longer belonged. Voice rasping, I replied, “Things are changing so quickly now, and I wish…I merely wish to return to the old ways, to a time when my life made sense.”

“I wish that too.” She rested a soft hand on my shoulder and I trembled under her touch. “I wish it very much, more than you know. I wish too that you needn’t…but how silly, wishing will not make it so.”

Her hand returned to her lap, and I fought against the urge to reach out and take it in mine, to wrap my arms around her and hold her close.

She tilted her head back, eyes closed. “The Dagda says that immutable laws exist within our universe, laws such as change that are far more important than gods. He was the first to see the change coming to us, just as change will always be coming.” Opening her eyes, she smiled. “So then, change makes sense, does it not? How else are the people to grow? Without change, how can Eire grow?”

“The Dagda’s wisdom exceeds all others, so it must be true.” It was my turn to smile. “Please excuse my melancholy. Today I am flooded in memories. I think of my father and mother, Ceara, Aine, Master Tóla and all the others who leave their bones in this land. The people of Rath Raithleann built homes, raised families, cleared and tilled fields that will remain in use for all time. Though their names and faces be forgotten and their voices forever stilled, my family and friends’ presence will be still felt throughout all the generations to come…like waves in the wind.”

She nodded. “I see. You fear by leaving you will be forgotten.”

I was surprised. It was as though she read my thoughts. “Something like that.”

“You are wrong. I…your gods will not forget you. Of that you may be certain. You will be remembered as the Druid who stood beside us during these dark times, who dared risk all that Tír na nÓg shall remain our haven forever.”

“It is a humbling thing to be held within the thoughts of my gods. I know of no greater honor and I thank you for it.”

She cocked an eyebrow. “But, that is not enough, is it?”

“Of course—”

“You are a poor liar.” Wagging her finger and shaking her head, she smiled. “No. You wished to leave your mark that the people might remember you. That is understandable. Those of merit desire to accomplish great things, memorable things.”

“You are right. I hoped to be remembered for doing some great thing, though it sounds a bit silly when I look back on it now.” I grinned at my own foolishness. “It is the purest form of vanity, is it not? You were also right about what you said earlier: The Christians have won Eire and I lost, we all lost. Now I will sail away forever leaving nothing behind to show for my trouble.”

“No. Striving to make one’s mark is not silly. For an honorable man to reach towards immortality might be a vain thing, but it is not a bad thing. Throughout all you have endured there is one thing you never lost—yourself. You have overcome much, and no man could have done more, cared more. It is another trait I have come to…to admire about you.” She flushed and hurriedly added, “All your gods admire you for it.”

Rising and stepping away, her hands pressed against her glowing cheeks. “I must go. Soon you sail and we will speak no more.” For an instant it appeared as if tears crowded her dark, violet eyes. “Goodbye my Ossian.” She vanished in a glittering burst of golden light.

Emptiness captured my heart at her sudden disappearance. My head was spinning; for an incredible moment it almost seemed that she…no, I was mistaken. She would never shed tears over me. She was the Morrigan.

* * *

The morning sun crept through the doorway of my hut when a monk appeared saying Brendan wished to speak with me. It was but a short walk to the priest’s cottage and he bade me enter when I called out to him. I found him seated at a table, his eyes red-rimmed, and his face lined and weary.

Feet apart, hands on my hips, I snorted. “You look terrible. What is it? Are you still troubled by confronting Erc?”

His hands scrubbed his face as he shook his head. “Not merely Erc,” he muttered, “though he be a big part of it. No, I have been confronting my many failures. I prayed God would enlighten me, though he remains silent. Tell me, could what Erc said be true? Could I be wrong, did I misinterpret God’s Will? Is this voyage folly?”

I nodded. “I see. So, that is why you haven’t set a new sailing date.”

An empty chair rested by the table beside him, and his eyes followed me as I strolled over and sat down. “Your god’s will is your own affair. However, if you still ask if the Blessed Isles exist, I tell you most assuredly, yes they do. If you ask if it is possible to reach them, I honestly tell you, I don’t know. But you will never know if you don’t try.”

He cocked an eyebrow. “That is true. You well know my reason to sail to the Isles, but tell me, why do you wish to voyage with me?”

“That is a matter between me and my gods.” I hoped my smile would soften my words. “Your god is your affair, my gods are mine.”

His face brightened a bit. “That was a sly answer, though one befitting you. You are right, of course. It was foolish of me to question the importance of the voyage.” Leaning forward, hands clasped atop the table, he continued, “I want you to inspect the ship. Yes, I trusted Erc’s abilities, though now I question everything about him. Make your measurements, and oh yes, complete your
calculations
, I believe you called them. Make certain our boat is seaworthy. Can you do that within the next few days?”

“Certainly. If I find anything amiss, I will bring it to your attention and we can discuss suitable remedies.”

“Good.” He nodded and then added with a grin, “We make an odd team, you and I, do we not?”

His jest was not lost upon me, though a larger truth filled my mind. “Would that Druids and priests had understood the importance of working together for the greater good long ago.”

* * *

The days passed swiftly as I inspected every part of our curragh. Men of the village moved casks and bundles already stored aboard that I might view and measure each installed piece of it. Brendan was often at my side, asking questions as he paced about.

“The main beams at the bow make a poor fit,” I observed as I pointed to their joining. Crooking a finger at a villager, I told him when he came near, “Go find Goban and bring him here.”

Brendan leaned over my shoulder and peered at the joint. “Is it the gap between the two beams that concerns you? They appear pegged tight in place, so it seems a small thing.”

“Not so small when we face into a raging sea, I’m thinking.” I scratched my head as I considered the problem. “Replacing the beams will require another month’s work, but perhaps bracing will serve to secure it. I’m hoping Goban can create a solution.”

The villager soon returned with Goban in tow and I pointed to the joint. “Can you make an iron sheathe to strengthen this?”

“Can I make it, ye ask?” Goban grumbled. “Of course I can make such a simple thing.” His eyes glinted. “The question is, can ye determine the proper angles, that it will fit as it should? If not, move out of me way and I will measure it for meself.”

* * *

Eyes squinting in the firelight, I passed the needle and linen thread through the cloth to join the torn edges of my kirtle. It would be a rough repair, but serviceable.

“You should let the women do that,” Laoidheach observed. “A woman would make a better job of it.”

He sat behind me near the doorway, and I grunted a response over my shoulder as I continued my work.

“I see no reason why you wear the tattered thing,” he continued. “You’ve been carrying about a splendid green Druid’s robe, though never wear it. You should, you know. You earned the right and I would like to see you wearing it.”

Yes, I had earned the right, but remained convinced I lost it after failing in my responsibilities to my King and the people of Rath Raithleann. It was a thing I would not discuss, even with my closest friend. I shrugged, keeping my eyes on my work. “There simply hasn’t been a proper occasion to wear it. Perhaps I shall someday.”

“No, my friend, it is a thing you should wear every day as befits your standing as a Druid. I wish to remind you—what? Augh!”

Glancing over my shoulder at my friend’s latest antics, I was stunned to find him grappling with a black-robed figure. Even as I leaped to my feet, a hand flashed downwards, burying a knife in Laoidheach’s chest.

Horrified, I shrieked, “No!”

Then I saw the face of the black-robed assailant—Erc! His features were gaunt, pinched, and he sneered, “The knife was meant for you. Next time, Druid, the next time you won’t be so fortunate.”

I rushed towards him, but he turned and sped through the door, his maniacal laughter ringing out into the night. Thoughts of the monk fled my mind as I dropped to my knees beside Laoidheach, who lay on the floor.

Wrapping an arm around his shoulder, I cradled him to me. His eyes opened and found mine. “So, my friend, how very strange. We saw this coming, did we not?” Eyes closing again he winced, and took a deep, ragged breath. “That day on the hill beside Aine’s grave.” He gasped again. “Remember?”

“Of course—”

“What was all that yellin’?” Goban stuck his head inside the door, and his eyes widened when he saw us. “What…?”

Tears streamed down my face. “Erc,” I mumbled. “It was Erc.”

Eyes fixed upon the knife hilt in Laoidheach’s chest, he emitted a loud, unintelligible yowl. Hurrying to our side, the smith collapsed to the ground. “I’m goin’ after the bastard, tonight, now—”

“No. You will not find him in the darkness. Stay with us.” I wiped my eyes with the back of my hand. “Remain here, we…he...” A sob stifled my voice.

A small smile lit Laoidheach’s wan face. “Soon I will stand beside my beloved wife.” He looked to me. “So, you see, do not carry on so. Paradise awaits.”

I clutched him to my breast, and nodded, unable to speak. My mind was swirling with grief mixed with the knowledge that my friend had taken the knife meant for my back.

Brendan stooped as he entered my hut, followed by a monk. “I thought I heard…” He stopped upon seeing the knife hilt and growing bloodstain on my friend’s chest. “Ossian, who…” His hands scrubbed his face. “It was Erc, wasn’t it?”

Bitterness against all Christians gripped me in that moment, though I held my tongue, and merely nodded.

Laoidheach whispered, “Promise me, my old friend; bury me alongside my beloved. It is much I ask, that I know, for you prepare to sail with the priest. If I ask too much—”

“No. No, of course it is not too much, and you have my vow I will do as you ask.” At that moment, nothing else mattered; Brendan, the voyage, my promise to the Morrigan, nothing—only the request from my dying friend.

“I messed up again, didn’t I?” He tried to chuckle but began choking on the blood filling his throat. At last he gasped, “I’m so very sorry that I can’t go on the voyage with you.” Again a smile touched his face. “Who will take care of you now, eh?”

Eyes dimming, though he was still smiling, he turned to Goban. “We’ve shared much together; good times and bad, my stalwart friend.”