Born of Oak and Silver (The Caradoc Chronicles) (8 page)

I obediently walked to where he had just stood before the water basin, and was startled to s
ee my reflection in the mirror before me. My brown, wavy hair was limp, knit through with sticks and other debris. It lay plastered to my head with sweat. My hazel eyes were large, and appeared impossibly hollow in my face. Blood, now dry, had cascaded from my eyes and down my cheeks. Droplets dotted my shirtfront below. I turned my head and noticed that my ears had bled as well.
Must have been from her scream,
I thought. On top of all of it all, I was dirt smeared and undoubtedly smelled awful. I began to wash in the basin with ardor.

Bram had disappeared downstairs
to assemble a few things for us to eat. I was ravenous, and he knew that I was all too well. I joined him in the fire-warmed kitchen, and with him began to devour everything he had thoughtfully placed on the table.

“Daine, I ha
ve never been a subtle man. I may choose to not say things, but when I do, I am always honest and direct . . .” He leaned back in his chair, his right ankle resting on his left knee, with his hands folded neatly in his lap. His worn face was absolutely sincere. “Which is why I see no reason to be indirect with you now. What have you decided? Surely you must now see that what I say is true. Do you choose to continue your studies with me and complete your training in Druidry? Or, have you chosen to continue your education elsewhere?” His green eyes were earnest as he sat quietly waiting for my response.

I had left his home earlier that morning with no intention of ever returning
again as his pupil. Maurelle had convinced me otherwise, though. I shuddered once again as I remembered our recent encounter. I sat up a little straighter, perhaps even puffed out my chest a bit in an effort to appear older and more mature before I spoke with a forced deepened voice, “Yes Bram, I have come to a decision. One that I would have thought recent events would have made clear to you.” I looked at him squarely as I continued in sobriety, “I would like to do whatever is necessary to become a Druid.”

“Good decisi
on, lad,” Bram’s eyes anciently gleamed. The slightest hint of a smile could be found on his lips beneath his beard as he leaned forward to take a drink from his wine glass on the table. He then returned to the same relaxed position, the merest hint of satisfaction still evident in his demeanor. “It will be a difficult, and ofttimes tedious. Mastery requires a minimum of twenty years of apprenticeship. However, considering that I have thought of you as my apprentice for the last seven years, we are left with a mere thirteen years. During which time I must teach you everything that I know.”

I nodded my head solemnly—my
life had just been mapped out clearly before me.

“The first thing you must know
is that Druids and, Sidhe, or Fae, or even Fairies if you will, have always been at war. The Sidhe would like to take our world for their own, and
we
will do anything and everything to prevent that from happening. We fight to protect what is ours. This is why the Earth permits us our power—so that we may keep Faerie and our world
permanently
separate.”

I swallowed as I realized that I was about to join the ranks of a long-standing war. I nodded my head slightly and he continued. “Secondly, you m
ay not tell anyone what you are. The exception existing only if revealing your position has direct importance to an immediate or future cause. Two examples of this might be for finding an apprentice of your own, or uniting with other Druids for your work. For the most part, it is rare that you will ever discuss your true calling with anyone outside of your known Druidic clan.” He took a deep breath before adding, “This means that your parents may never know what you are studying to truly become.”

I opened my mouth to protest but was cut off.

“I know, believe me, boy, I know it all too well. It is a heavy burden that you must bear.” His hands affirmed in the air, emphasizing his point, “But, it is for their own safety. The Sidhe have a way of finding those we love the most—and killing them in a most horrific fashion.”

My eyes went wide
, and I looked away. A secret like this would create an invisible wedge between my parents and me. One that I felt was already growing larger with every measure of new knowledge I acquired. I closed my eyes and grimly nodded my head. I knew that Maurelle was not lying when she had threatened me and all that could be considered mine. “Bram, will I learn how to kill them?”

He looked at me, unwavering
in his gaze, for what nearly spanned an eternity. I fought the urge to stir in my chair as his eyes bored into me uncomfortably. I determinedly held his stare, and watched as the ghost of a smile could again be found in his eyes. Soon it was on his lips, though they were hidden behind his beard. “Yes, Daine, I will teach you how it is possible to kill them. I will also teach you how to bind and withstand them.”

I was just about to ask him how
when a knock came at the door. My father entered the house. “Robert,” Bram called out to him, “we are in the kitchen.”

I could hear his heavy boots as they walked on the marble and then wooden floor
s. He smiled largely when he saw me. “Just where have you two been all day? Your mother and I had to go ahead and eat without you, and even then dinner was on the cool side.” He ruffled my hair which had the same wave as his own. He was as warm and familiar as he had ever been.

I had been afraid to see my parents; scared that somehow my encounter with the Fae and my decision
to become a Druid would have made some visible mark on my soul. I was relieved to see that there was no perceptible change, and the solidity and comfort of my father’s presence made tears begin to trickle from my eyes and run down my cheeks.

My father squatted down t
o look concernedly into my eyes. Seeing him so caused the flood of emotions I had been holding back all that day to rush out of me in a violent torrent.

I leaned into my father’s
strong arms and sobbed.

He held me, unsure what might have caused me to react this way. His eyes turned to Bram questioningly, and Bram responded quietly, “
The boy has been feeling out of sorts today. Take him home, Robert, and let him rest. I suppose I pushed him too hard with school today,” he said in feigned guilt. “Let’s take the rest of the week off, and resume our studies again on Monday.”

My father nodded against my head, and I heard the wood creaking as Bram stood
up from his chair. My father pulled back slightly, looking at my eyes, which had started to puff, and my tear-stained face. “I just don’t feel very well at all, Papa,” I said to him in a cracking voice. “Can we go home, please?”

He lingered over my face a little longer before
being satisfied that there was nothing else wrong. He stood and took my hand and led me through the house and toward the front door. “Thank you, Bram,” my father said as he reached Bram who was waiting for us in the foyer. “Hopefully this is nothing serious.”

“Ah, Robert, I highly doubt it is.” Bram assured him. “Nothing that sleep and a break from studies will not cure. Do you need any help with your workload?”

My father looked uncomfortable, as he ran a hand through his hair. “Actually, I could use your help, Bram. I have more orders than I can finish by myself.”

“Why didn’t you simply say so
, Robert?!” Bram reached out and clapped him on the shoulder. “I will be there first thing in the morning. I ask only that Carine have some strong coffee available.”

My father rocked b
ack on his heels as he laughed. “Bram, you know that is the only kind of coffee that Carine knows how to make. But I’ll make sure she knows that you requested it. Who knows, she might try to purposefully make something ‘strong’, and neither you nor I will be able to even drink it from our cups it will run so thick.” My father and Bram both laughed, and then my father looked down at me and shook my hand, which was held in his, “Ready to go home, my good man?” he asked me.

I nodded my head pitifully,
my attention fully focused on the room’s wood floor.

“Well, we’d better be going
then. Thanks again, Bram, and I’ll see you in the morning.”

We
left and quickly walked home as the first of the spring crickets chirped joyfully in the grass around us. The sight of my mother waiting patiently for us in the doorway brought on a new surge of sobs. Unquestioningly, she hurried to embrace me, and quickly whisked me away from the cold world and into the protective shelter of my room.

She lay beside me sweetly singing lullabies
, smoothing my hair from my forehead until I had fallen asleep. It was the last time that she would lie beside me in order to comfort me. After this moment, I became a man in my own mind, and no longer wanted my mother to comfort me—although there were moments where I desperately needed it.

“Daine, do you know what the C
urse of the Four Fathers is?” Bram asked, standing contentedly dry on the banks of the pond on his property.

He was impeccably dressed
in a three-piece suit despite the sultry summer sun. The only thing about him that may have seemed amiss to the casual observer was the fact that he was using a closed umbrella as an unnecessary walking aid along the pond’s slippery and mossy banks. The oddity in this being that there was not a cloud that could be found in the bright-blue sky.

I was
to be found waist-deep in pond water. I was attempting to master water well enough that I might be able to call it down from the skies. In order to do so, as an apprentice, it was necessary that I be touching water. Druid masters, such as Bram, simply had to ask and the water would have happily appeared no matter where they were. As of yet, none of my efforts had been successful. But today . . . I was determined that today would be different.

Bram
was ever patient as I tried to learn the art of Druidry. More often then not I found it to be nearly impossible. He pressed that it could not be forced; pointing out that frequently it was the most powerful of Druids that experienced the most difficulty in bending the elements to their wills.

“No,
Bram,” I said in consternation. My hands, with the ancient sapphire ring fitting now nearly perfect on the middle finger of my right hand, hovered inches above the water’s surface. “I can’t say that I have heard of anything referred to as ‘The Curse of the Four Fathers’.” 

Bram could be horribly distracting at times. I’d been focusing for hours on this,
giving myself a pounding headache in the process. But just before he’d started talking, I was beginning to feel a recognition, or acceptance, between myself and the water.

I was s
eventeen and I had by that time grown to my full height of six feet. I kept my wavy, dark hair long enough to be plaited, but short enough that it wasn’t either a nuisance or what I considered to be feminine. My face had become a mix of both my father and mother’s features. I had my father’s pointed nose, dark, wavy hair, and cleft chin. Of my mother, I had her full lips, hazel eyes, easily quirked eyebrows, and high, appled cheekbones. I was very lean, and had not yet developed the muscled bulk of my adult form, though I had lost all of my boyhood’s softness. Frankly, I was gangly, and for the most part awkward and clumsy as my brain fought to gain control of its elongated self.

“Daine, you’re trying too hard. Just take hold of the wate
r. It’s willing. I can feel it patiently waiting for you,” Bram instructed me from his perch.

I raked my wet hands through my damp hair in frustration. Regardless of what he said, I could n
ot feel anything waiting for me.
Aside from, perhaps, some lunch and dry pants
, I thought to myself sarcastically.

I
closed my eyes and took a slow and deep breath, held it for a moment, and then released it just as gently. I repeated this again. I felt my heart beating strongly in my chest, measuring a few of its long measures before I opened my eyes. When I did, it was to turn my full attention to Bram and away from the chilly water that had wrapped itself around me. Although it was a hot summer day, spending hours in the cold water, hardly moving, had chilled me to the core. I shivered as I continued to stare at Bram with what I hoped was a look of complete misery.

Bram regarded
me, clearly amused, from the shore. He removed a sweet from his vest pocket and popped it into his mouth. He then stepped forward, finding good footing on the muddied rocks before extending his hand out to me.

I quickly left the water’s cold embrace
, and came to stand beside him, shivering. I was now five inches taller than he was, and I looked down at him. He handed me a candy and wrapped an old blanket around my goose-bumped shoulders. Together we stood, side by side, looking out over the pond.

“It is as
I keep telling you,” he said around the candy in his mouth, “you already know how to call the water to you. You only need to allow the long-dormant center of yourself to fully awake and take hold. Cease trying to resist it. It will not harm you. You are as much a part of it as it is of you.”

I wore my confusion plainly on my face, but without
even turning to acknowledge it Bram continued, “I know you fight because it is in your nature, it is who you are. You battle everything, good and bad, and you always will until you willingly allow
all
of yourself to become present. When you do, it is then that you will be able to harness anything.”