Druid Knights 1.5: The Druid Knight Tales (6 page)

She put her fingers to his lips.

He searched her face. Yes, her eyes were brighter and the dark hollows surrounding them were almost gone. He brushed her cheek with his fingertips. She was warm and in the fading light he thought her ashen pallor was fading. Max glanced at the mistletoe.

“I know, Max.” She peered deeply into his eyes. “I know what is to come.”

He held her tight. “I almost lost you,” he whispered.

“I love you. You are my greatest gift,” she declared.

He broke away for a moment. “And you, mine. I love you, Ellyn.” He bent down to kiss her again but she held him off. She turned her face to the moon.

“The sun is gone and moonrise is almost complete. We’re too late,” she spoke in a weak, trembling whisper.

He grabbed the mistletoe and gave it to her. “Hold this.” He scooped her up and hurried back to the inner circle.

“Max, don’t do this. It is forbidden.”

“I’ve been a fool. I would give anything for you to be well. Anything for us to be together.” He came into the inner circle.

“You are fortunate, Grand Master,” the Ancestor said.

Max halted and gave the Ancestor a questioning stare. He stood with Ellyn next to him.

“You must return to the great oak before the full moonrise,” the Ancestor said, motioning to the moon.

Max turned and watched the great shadow cover the orb. “Thank you. I am humbled.” He bowed his head.

“You have the sacred mistletoe.” The Ancestor pointed to the sprig Ellyn held. “Guard it well. But know that the mistletoe did not heal you. Only the love of your soul mate could do that.”

“Yes, I know.” Ellyn stood at Max’s side. She planted her great staff solidly in the ground between them. Max’s hand covered hers—it glowed.

“Your mighty staff knows the truth. Its light will always lead you to each other, amongst other things, but—” the Ancestor said.

She and Max looked first at her staff then at the Ancestors.

“I have foreseen the future and I go willingly,” Ellyn said. “We will set the mistletoe at the door of our house and decorate the boughs—not only to keep us from harm as you have prescribed but, at this season in particular, to remind us of our love for each other.”

The Ancestors nodded. “Well done. You are a worthy partner for the Grand Master, especially
this
Grand Master.”

Max put his arm around her. “I will guard her well and love her more.”

“It’s time you returned.” The Ancestors stepped back to the stones and spoke in one voice,

“As above, so below,

As within, so without.

Guidance and love they did obtain,

And bring a good year to their clan again.”

***

Max and Ellyn firmly held on to the glowing staff. The wind swirled and blew around them. The storm ended as quickly as it began. When it cleared they stood at the great oak in Avebury. All the clans were close by staring as the great shadow moved and once again revealed the moon.

“Welcome.” Doward came up and greeted them.

“The Grand Master is back.” The people gathered around them. Max raised the staff for their attention.

“We have come back from the Ancestors. They bless us for another year. Their guidance is of love and understanding.” Doward handed Max the golden scythe to cut fresh mistletoe off the great oak. Ellyn and the other women caught the delicate sprigs in a cloth they held under the oak’s branches. The families took the mistletoe and went off to prepare for the evening’s celebration.

“They set off rather quickly,” Max said with Ellyn at his side.

“They have been planning the celebration for some time.” Doward followed Max’s darting gaze. “For whom are you looking?” Doward asked.

Max creased his brow. “Fendrel. I have some news for him he may find distressing. Ah, there he is.” He walked over to where Fendrel and his clan stood.

“Grand Master, it is good to have you back.” He drew his wife in front of him. “This is my wife, Dimia, and our new son,” he said, his chest puffed out with pride.

“Good eve to you, Dimia.” He stroked the back of the infant’s hand. The baby grabbed his finger. Max turned his attention to the new parents. “May you and your clan be blessed with good health and a full hearth.”

“Thank you, Grand Master.” Fendrel beamed.

“Fendrel, there is something we need to discuss,” Max said.

“Yes, what it is?” Fendrel gave Dimia a sly smile.

Max put his arm protectively around Ellyn. “We are to be married.”

Fendrel and Dimia looked at each other. Both exploded into wide smiles. “Yes, we know. We’ve been preparing ever since you left. You aren’t the only one gifted with foresight.”

“Do you also know your son’s destiny?” Ellyn asked. When she peeked at the babe she saw the man he would become, a strong leader and a great druid knight. He would make Dimia and Fendrel proud.

Speechless, a startled expression set on the new parents’ faces.

Ellyn looked at the wide-awake baby. “Our families will be forever tied to each other by our children. Our daughter and your son…”

“Arik. We’ve decided to name him Arik.” Dimia kissed the baby’s head. “My little lion.”

“Arik will continue our families,” Ellyn said.

Fendrel stared at Max in disbelief. “Is it true?”

“If Ellyn says our families will be tied together by our children it must be so. Come, it is time to celebrate our good fortune and our future.”

Max, with Fendrel and Dimia, set out for the great bonfire.

Ellyn and Doward followed behind.

“You knew, didn’t you?” She waited but a heartbeat. “You made certain where I stood and when the portal opened you wished me a safe journey.”

“I knew once you spent time together and learned to depend on each other you both would make the right decision. Ellyn, I know you and Max are to face challenges in the future. I will be there, always,” Doward voiced with quiet determination.

“Thank you, Doward.” She placed her hand on his arm. “We appreciate your devotion and friendship.”

“I cannot change what is fated but I will do what I can—”

“That is more than anyone could ask.” There was nothing she could do about the future. It would unfold as it was destined. Unless…she shaped it. Gave it direction. Knowing what the future held allowed them to prepare for it. Every moment was precious and she would make every one count.

She saw Max up ahead and her chest squeezed tighter with pride and love. He was her heart and together they could face anything. She glanced at Doward beside her. With a friend like him maybe the three of them could shape their destiny rather than be at its mercy. It might take a lifetime but something inside her said it was worth a try. They caught up to Max and the others.

The Grand Master stood before the bonfire and removed his tunic for everyone to see the sacred runes tattooed across his back. He picked up a lit branch. With his other arm he gathered Ellyn to his side. She ran her hand down his back, which made his muscles flinch and his tattoos softly glow.

He bent to her ear. “The runes warm to your touch.”

“Perhaps it is a sign we are truly soul mates.” She kept her eyes forward.

The sign. Of course. He smiled and raised the torch. “Is there anything else you want to tell me?”

“Her name will be Rebeka.” She stared straight ahead, not meeting his eyes.

“Who?” he asked, a startled expression spread across his face.

“Our daughter. Arik’s soul mate.” A satisfied smile played on Ellyn’s lips.

“She will be a mighty woman,” he teased.

She looked into his eyes. “She will be the best of both of us. Now, finish the ritual. We have important things to…celebrate.” She stepped aside and planted her staff deep into the ground between them.

He covered her hand with his. The staff glowed but only for them.

“Hail, Guardians, we thank you for the power of air, fire, water, and earth.”

“For all you have given to us, we thank you for the year,” the congregation replied.

“For the new year we make this oath. We pledge ourselves to the Guardians, the Ancestors,” he looked down at Ellyn, “and to each other. May our hearths and homes be safe and strong for another year.”

“For all you offer us, we give thanks for the year to come.”

He tossed the torch onto the pile and listened to the people shout with enthusiasm. He gathered Ellyn into his arms. “To hearth and home, my love.”

They sealed their pledge with a kiss.

***

Fifteen Years Later

“How can you be sleeping?” Arik tugged the cover off his foster brother. “The sun will be over the hill soon and we’ve still much to do before we leave.”

Bran uncurled, stretched his long lean body, grabbed the blanket and wrapped himself in it. He turned onto his back with his hands behind his head.

Arik rushed around the room they shared, gathering the last of his personal treasures. Satisfied his brother was awake, he dashed out the door, but not before he grabbed Bran’s blanket and pulled it to the floor.

“Where’re you going?” Arik smiled at the irritation in his brother’s voice.

“To the tower. I want to make certain I’ve left nothing behind,” he called over his shoulder and took the tower steps two at a time. When he reached the top landing he threw open the door and hesitated. His heart pounded like a racing colt, eager to push on but instead he reverently stepped inside. There was something special in this room. He had always known it, felt it deep within him. Amidst all the turmoil this morning he welcomed the tranquility.

What did this place hold that drew him like a moth to the flame? The room was scantily furnished. Large tapestries hung on the walls giving the stone room warmth and splashes of color. The simple bed pushed against the wall was strategically positioned to give him an unhampered view of the sky when he lay in it.

On clear nights he gazed at the heavens with its boundless stars in awe of the spectacle.

A table, crowded with a stack of books, was in the center of the room. A chest filled with things he preferred no one touch was placed against the wall. He turned his head and glanced at the full length looking glass that stood forgotten to his right reflecting the now cold fireplace.

He took a few more steps into the room. Calm after a morning of hurried tasks, he opened his mind and was bombarded with the smells, sights and sounds around him. He inhaled deeply, intent on never forgetting the scent of the fresh herbs scattered amongst the rushes on the floor. His eyes surveyed the walls for the inscribed runes that a young druid novice sprinkled on random stones that peeked out between the tapestries. His ears filled with silence, oblivious to the whirlwind of preparations going on downstairs.

This room had always been his sanctuary, where he came when he wanted to clear his head. Leaving it was…difficult.

Lately he came here to weigh his future. He ran his hand through his hair. Faith, but he didn’t know how to view this new adventure. Five years—one-third of his life so far—was a long time to be away from home. He moved to the window, his hand trailing along the smooth grain of the oak table. He looked across the manor landscape past the manicured garden and to the farms and houses beyond.

“To hearth and home,” he whispered. He faced the east and repeated the morning blessing that was said in each house throughout his father’s domain.

“Hail and welcome,

Thank you, Great Mother for giving us a day of peace.

He watched as the gold rim of the sun peeked over the far hill. It would be a long time before he saw it again.

“I thought you were gathering your things?” Bran came up beside him.

Arik let out a deep sigh and kept his eye on a bird soaring in the dawning sky. Bran was respectful but he wasn’t one for ritual. Bran contended that man was in charge of his own destiny and spent hours discussing the subject with father and the Grand Master. He worried about his brother and what would happen while they were away. Ritual was a big part of druid life.

“Did you ever wonder what we would become?”

Bran remained silent.

Arik couldn’t remember a time without Bran. They were cousins, although as far as he was concerned they were brothers in every way but blood. Seven years ago his father and Ellyn had brought Bran home from Orkney orphaned and with the fever.

Elfrida had nursed Arik through a fever once. He’d been sure Bran would get better. Until Ellyn attended him—then he’d begun to fret. Everyone kept him away from Bran but he’d stood vigil outside the sick room door.

When he wasn’t at his self-assigned post he had come here, to his tower, to beg the Great Mother to heal Bran. As the days had turned into weeks he’d promised The Great Mother if Bran recovered he would devote himself to her.

Arik was a man of his word. He’d petitioned the Grand Master for a seat in the class and was accepted. Now he prepared to start his new life in service to the Great Mother. “I suppose we were destined to be druid knights.”