Blazing Earth (14 page)

Earthblood. Sunblood. Heed my call!

“What is that?” Thea asked. “Where did it come from?”

Free me! Save me!

“From under the circle, buried deep there in the earth,” he said.

“Who can it be?” Thea turned and then walked toward the place she'd seen in her vision. The eight stones had disappeared beneath the ground there. She pointed. “Can you uncover the stones there?”

“I could,” Tolan replied, hesitation clear in his tone.

Free me!
the voice cried out again.

For a moment, all Thea could see was the body of the woman sacrificed to the gods, naked, covered in her own blood and the seed of many men, being taken into the ground by the god Cernunnos. Was she somehow alive there? Her soul remaining long after her body turned to dust?

“Is it the one who was sacrificed here so many years ago, Tolan? Could it be her crying out?” She knew even as she said it, it could not be the same one.

“Nay. I think I know who calls to us,” Tolan said. Shaking his head, he held out his hand once more to her. “And I think we should leave here now.”

“Who is it?” Thea asked as they walked swiftly to the edge of the trees.

Stop! Come to me now!
The voice was so loud, her ears pained her as it continued to scream.

They began running then and Thea struggled to
keep up with Tolan's long strides. Soon, they reached the end of the trees and, as they ran, Tolan leveled their path so she would not have to climb the tall rise to escape.

Their horses stood grazing in the distance and Tolan let go of her to retrieve them. Soon, they made their way back to his cottage, surprised that no one stood guard or had disturbed anything there. Tolan wordlessly took down two cups and filled them from a jug—of wine—before holding one out to her. Only after they'd emptied their cups did he speak.

And when he'd finished, she almost wished she could go back to the ignorance in which she'd lived only a short time ago.

William stood back in the shadows watching, as Corann brought the woman toward him and Brienne. 'Twas decided that the three of them would speak to her first before bringing her to their encampment.

“She is frightened,” Brienne said, leaning against his side and sliding her hand into his. He nodded.

“Were you not?” he asked, kissing his mate's hand. “I know I was when I discovered the truth of my nature.”

“Frightened? I think not, Will,” Brienne said. “I cannot imagine a warrior of your experience being frightened. Nervous mayhap. Uneasy, certainly. But frightened?”

“I thank you for your confidence in me, but to learn that nothing about you or your world is what you believed nearly had me soiling my breeches.”

She laughed softly and the sound surrounded him.
She was his life. Part of him that he'd found and claimed without ever realizing she was missing. He would risk anything and everything for her.

“A warrior, every warrior, knows fear, my love,” he continued. “Experienced warriors accept it and do their duties in spite of it. The best warriors use their fear to spur themselves on in battle—”

“Here now,” she interrupted. “She comes.”

William watched as the color surrounding this woman, Elethea of Amesbury, changed. Rather than being an even aura, it sputtered and ebbed and flowed. Fear, he suspected, made it change so. Brienne released his hand and moved to stand in front of him. They'd decided, especially with his new appearance, to have Brienne greet her first.

“My lady . . . ,” Corann began.

William smiled as the man fumbled over how to introduce them. Only he held the title of sir and he carried royal and noble blood in his veins. Brienne carried the noble blood of her father but was raised as the daughter of the village blacksmith. The priests, however, were too discomforted by addressing them by their names and always searched for some honorific because of who or what they were now.

Descendants of the gods and goddesses they worshipped.

“I am Brienne of Yester,” William's mate said, stepping forward and offering her hand to the . . . sunblood. “I am a fireblood.” The expression on the woman's face, which had been nervous but welcoming, was now shadowed with fear.

“Another fireblood?” she asked, glancing from Brienne to Corann.

“You know of the other?” Will asked, stepping closer. At the sight of him and, more likely his eyes, she took a step back away . . . and into Corann. Brienne stepped between them and gave him a dark glance.

“The other one is my father, Lord Hugh de Gifford.” Brienne offered a soft smile to the woman, seeking to ease her fears. “He is not one of us.”

“And I am . . . ,” Will said as he offered his own hand in greeting, “I am William de Brus, the warblood.” He felt the warblood trying to surge forward but held him back. This woman did not need to see that part of him yet.

“My husband,” Brienne said.

The sunblood stared at him, meeting his gaze and searching it. The color around her calmed and became like the sun on a midsummer's day.

“My name is Elethea,” she said softly. “Though you most likely know that from Corann.”

“Aye, my lady,” he said, bobbing his head in acknowledgment. “I did tell them your name.”

“I am not of noble blood, Corann. I am not your ‘lady.'”

“They, the priests, are not at ease with us, Elethea,” Will explained. “For generations they have been raised to worship their gods and give reverence to their descendants, to those of us who carry the bloodlines. To address us by name is difficult. But they are working on that.” He looked over at Corann, who looked no more at ease now than Elethea did.

“You are surrounded by blue, but your eyes,” she began, staring at him once more, “are red?”

“A recent change,” he said simply. “The warblood is here with me all the time. He sees in the red haze of war and blood.”

“And the blue?” she asked. She shook her head. “My apologies for asking such things. This is all so new to me and I do not understand so much of it.” Will smiled at her.

“We all understand, Elethea,” he said. “We are all so recently called to rise and still have so many questions. We each seem to know parts of it or have only small bits of knowledge. Together, though, we are stronger.” She nodded and a tentative smile lit her features then. “When the warblood truly rises, he is like a berserker of old. And like those ancient warriors who painted their skin blue, he is blue. So I carry his true color in my bloodline.”

“Will you come back to our encampment so we can speak of this more openly?” Brienne asked. William's wife understood that standing on the edges of an abbey with its fine church and its many worshippers was not the best place to discuss such heretical things as other gods and the powers they passed down to their descendants. “It is just over across the river there. We will bring you back here whenever you wish.”

Will doubted in that moment that she would come with them, though even showing up here to meet with Corann showed her interest in learning more. That did not guarantee she and the other one would
join their cause and act against Hugh and the others who followed Chaela's plans, but it was a good start.

“I have many questions,” Elethea said. “And would like to know more.” She looked from Brienne to him and then to Corann before nodding her assent.

“Come, then, and we shall try to answer yours and learn more about you,” Brienne said.

Will took up a position behind the others as they walked back to the river and the place where they'd be able to cross the river. Though Ran had offered to open a path for them across the rushing waters, Will and Corann urged caution at exposing their abilities here and now. Through the warblood's eyes he peered around the area as they moved away from the abbey, seeking any signs of danger or deception.

Elethea appeared to be much as he and Brienne and Ran and Soren had been at first encounter with each other—curious, nervous, and excited at finding others of their kind. Will lifted his face and sniffed the air for signs of threat, another ability the warblood gave him. Sensing none, he followed them to the boat and across the river.

Brienne spoke quietly to Elethea the whole way there, asking about her family and the village in which she lived. All things that were familiar to both women. Will's wife was trying to put this stranger at ease and was preparing her to meet the rest of their group.

Will looked past the three to those who now gathered waiting by their tents. Soren and Ran, outlined by the color of their powers, waited and watched.
Father Ander and a few of the other priests were close by. And his friends Roger and Gautier were nearest to him. Glancing for the one William thought would be the most curious, he found Aislinn and her guard standing behind the other priests.

The young woman had walked in a sort of confused grief since they arrived here. Without Marcus to guide her and to counsel her, Aislinn seemed to have lost her heart. She had asked them to wait before making their connection once more and he feared she did not wish the others to feel or sense her overwhelming loss. She raised her head then and he caught her gaze, offering a smile to acknowledge her pain.

In that moment, he noticed something he'd not seen before when looking at her—she seemed to shine. Not every moment, but at times, as she moved or as she looked off in the distance, he could see a distinct silvery brightness to her. He glanced at Brienne and saw her fiery outline. Elethea carried the golden yellow glow of the sunlight around her. Turning back to Aislinn, he saw it once more.

Did he only notice it now because he looked through the warblood's eyes? At the times when the warblood had risen before, they were in the middle of a battle or in danger and he'd not had time to pay attention to much else. Had it been there all along?

Or was Aislinn destined to play a much bigger role in their endeavor than they all suspected? Raised as a priestess and gifted with powerful gifts of prophecy and the sight, Aislinn had helped him and Brienne close and seal the first gateway they'd found. The
young woman had helped them locate the second one and had foretold of the third.

When the drawings of Soren's grandfather had been read, the last two connected were the marks of the beast and the moon. A priest did not stand in the eighth position, so the four of the bloodlines had discussed its possible meaning. Now, seeing this change happening to Aislinn, Will was certain she was more than a seer. More than simply the priest to pray the words.

More than any of them understood.

Will turned his attention back to Elethea and walked forward to Brienne's side so that they might all talk with her. And discover more about her powers and that of the other one they had not yet met.

*   *   *

Thea stared in amazement as the people from the encampment came out to greet her. They stood in smaller groups around the area, some clearly warriors and others whose skills were not so apparent. But two took away her ability to breathe.

The man was tall and blond, the body of one who worked with the land clear in his stature and muscles. He gazed at her and she could almost imagine a storm swirling around him. The woman at his side was also blond and tall, taller than most women she'd seen, and she glowed with a turquoise aura. Remembering the vision she'd had, she thought that she knew which of the gods were their ancestors.

Though Brienne of Yester had put her mind of ease, Thea worried still over being here and saying too much
to them. Tolan had wanted her to wait for him, but she convinced him to see to the safety of his son and cousin and she would see to this. Though he looked ready to argue with her, he acquiesced and went on his own way . . . and she met Corann at the abbey.

“This is Ran Sveinsdottir and Soren Thorson, Elethea,” Brienne said, introducing her to the two. “They come from the island north of Scotland—Orkney, the lands of the Norse.” Elethea accepted their greetings and nodded at each of them.

Brienne's warrior husband joined them then and stared at her again. Glancing to the others, she realized that both of the men's eyes had the eerie appearance of glowing as Tolan's did now. But did everyone see it as she did? Corann approached then, standing up straight and walking with ease, and bowed to her.

“I would introduce you to Father Ander,” Corann said, tugging the shorter man closer. “He is also from Orkney, though he is one of your priests.” Startled by the description and to find a Catholic priest in the midst of all this, she nodded at him.

“God works and brings others to His endeavors in mysterious ways, does he not, Elethea?”

“Clearly, Father,” she said.

“Come this way and we can speak,” Corann said, walking at her side as they moved through the camp. “These are our other priests. They have all come from the island I mentioned to you and will serve however we may.”

When the group of about fifteen all looked at her with awe in their gazes and bowed, Thea did not
know what to do. They believed her part of their gods. They believed she had powers. From their expressions and words of greeting, she thought their faith in her might be more than her own. All she knew she could do was somehow heal people. But they seemed to think she could do more.

“You are feeling well, Corann?” she asked. Observing and visiting those she helped was part of her duties, and this was the first time she'd seen someone so completely healed. As they walked, she opened to her new skill and observed him. All of the injuries and damage she'd seen there before was gone. Healed. Every part of him whole now.

“I am,” he said with a smile and a nod. He appeared younger now, as though his pain had aged him as well.

Corann stopped now before a young woman, and before Thea could greet her or speak a word, the woman dropped to her knees and touched her forehead on the edge of Thea's gown.

“Sunblood,” she whispered.

The pain that this young woman carried within her cried out to Thea. It took but a glance to tell that it was physical pain borne out of profound grief and loss. Before she knew what to do or say, she reached down and lifted the woman to stand. Suddenly, she knew her name was Aislinn and that she had lost the only man she considered her father. And his name was . . .

“Marcus gave his life in service to us and is blessed forever for his sacrifice, Aislinn,” she said in another's
voice. Her body heated and changed then, light bursting forth as she held on to this woman. “Remember him well. Honor his memory by remembering all he taught you.” The rest was for her ears only, so Thea leaned in and whispered, “Aislinn of Cork, Marcus believed in you when he took you in and raised you. You are also blessed and will stand against evil. Be strong in this. He is always in your heart and in your soul.”

When Thea released her, she realized that everyone was staring at her and Aislinn. Some, those without power, shielded their eyes as though a light too bright to watch had been shining there. Aislinn . . . how had she known this woman's name? Aislinn's eyes, now the color of moon glow, stared at her now and nodded at whatever words Thea had spoken to her. Stranger still, Thea did not recall everything she'd said.

The pain was gone from the young woman now. Oh, grief remained, for her loss had been great and terrible, but that would take time.

“Praise be!” Aislinn whispered before stepping away and moving aside.

Silence, a complete silence in which only the sounds of nature around them were heard, descended on the whole encampment then. She looked around and found shock, astonishment, and reverence in every gaze that met hers.

Sunblood. Praise be. The healing power of the sun. Belenus.

The words repeated and followed her every step until they reached a small clearing at the other side of the
camp. Only the four others said nothing and watched her with compassion and understanding in their eyes. They trod the same path on which she and Tolan were embarking—from a simple person to something else. She could never imagine herself as a god or even one descended from that. When their small group that now also included several of the warriors stopped and a stool was offered to her, she asked her first question.