Waves in the Wind (22 page)

* * *

I awoke from a deep slumber to the spirit voice of the Morrigan. My low-burning fire cast dancing shadow figures upon my cave walls, and her voice, no longer the harsh croak of a crow, came softly from the night, a refrain in the sigh of the wind.

“Wake up, Ossian,” she was saying, “you sleep soundly while your gods are displeased with you.”

Wary of her, I sat up and replied, “What, My Queen? The Lordly Ones are displeased, you say? Why?”

“You traveled to the village and spoke to the new priest, Brendan, at length.”

“Yes, we spoke at length. What of it?”

“We fear you were swayed by this man. He is becoming prominent. Someday he will assume the place of the eminent priest, Patrick, who banished all followers of the sacred serpent from Eire’s shores.”

It was troubling to hear that even gods know fear. “Brendan did not sway me from the beliefs instilled in me by my father. The Lordly Ones need not be troubled so long as there remain those of us who still believe in them.”

“Gods cannot exist in an empty void. What purpose do gods serve in the absence of conscious thought if there are no mortals who know and worship them? The god of the Christians gains greater supremacy each day as more and more mortals convert to the new religion. The new god acquires strength while your gods continue to fade.”

“You, all of you Lordly Ones must come together to resist the new god of the Christians and reverse the tide of the new religion.”

“We did resist in the beginning, Ossian, but now it’s too late…too late. Much has happened while you lay idle in this cave. The new god has won Eire. Because of this, many of us have already departed this land for Tír na nÓg, the Isles of the Ever Young. Hear me,”

The Age of the World, was 3303,

Edarlamh and his Tuatha De Danann

Overcame the Firbolgs at Magh Tuireadh,

And secured this place, this Eire, for themselves, Forever.

Forever, I say…but what is that? Forever…

It was wife, we thought, not mistress, honey not bittersweet.

We held it close in hand, ever dreaming foolish dreams,

While we gathered about the fire to sing the songs of Forever

This land was ours Forever, we said, your Lordly Ones,

For two thousand plus four hundred years.

Tomorrows beyond imagining, lives beyond lives, time without end,

Minding not that in a universe with a beginning, there can be no Forever.

The sun sets now; I see it setting, on our Forever.

The Father, Son, and Blessed Mother are here.

New Holy Ones have won this Land and its people.

Their sun rises as ours sets, and so begins their time of Forever.

Tír na nÓg, the Blessed Isles are our final Forever,

Enchanted, enshrouded in the mists of the western sea.

They must not fall to the new Father and his followers,

Lest all be lost to us, your Lordly Ones, lost upon this earth, Forever.

It was an astonishing thing. “The Lordly Ones are leaving Eire?”

“Some will remain and live in the Underworld, but yes, already many have gone. As for the remainder of us…we shall see.”

“Why tell me this? I am no more important than the small fish I ate for my dinner.”

“Perhaps that’s true, perhaps not. Once you showed great promise. As of now, you still are of some consequence to the old and the new. Brendan sees this and understands the significance of seizing your mind and will, that others might follow your lead.”

Bitterness welled within me. “Of consequence am I? Once I hoped to become of consequence. Look about you, My Queen, and see that I have nothing—nothing! Of what consequence is that? Of what consequence am I to anyone?”

The voice of the Morrigan sneered. “I see…you lost your vanity most of all. You thought yourself important and looked to the time when you would gain even more favor. Now look at you, thin, starving and hunched over like a cowering puppy. Stand up straight before me!”

“My Queen, I’ve been ill and—”

“You were ill but the injury to your head is past. Stand up, stand up straight. At least try to look like a man!”

I stood as she ordered and rose upward to my full height though my long unused neck and shoulder muscles cried out as I did so and my head swam with the effort.

“Now,” she continued, “that is much better and a small beginning, though you hide in this loathsome place, frightened to return to the world of men.”

A forgotten, fearsome memory flashed through my mind; firelight from the burning village illuminating my father’s head on the end of a pike alongside that of King Domhnall. “My Queen, perhaps you forget…my father—”

“Your father… Your father…,” she scoffed. “The stupid man was so smitten by a woman he failed his king! You heard our warning, Ossian, and you knew the attack was coming, didn’t you?”

“Yes. Yes, of course I knew.” My head drooped and I held my face in my hands. “Do you not think I feel the weight of it? It preys upon my mind like maggots on rotten flesh.”

“Of course.” Her scornful tone held no touch of sympathy. “Your father ignored his gods’ warnings as well, didn’t he?”

Long since I made peace with my father’s ghost and would not speak ill of him.

At my silence, she raged, “I asked you a question! Did your father ignore his gods?”

My face flushed as I nodded.

“Yes! Your father foresaw the attack on your village and neglected to sound an alarm,” the Morrigan hissed. “And now he is dead. His king is dead. Your entire village of Rath Raithleann is dead! Think of it, an entire village of believers gone, dead at the hands of Christian followers.”

My face remained flushed but she would never break my faith in my father. “My father was a good man, a wise man and ever faithful to his King. The Corcu Duibne attacked our village; the destruction and death is on their heads, theirs alone!”

“Your loyalty to your father remains strong though misplaced.”

She was silent for so long I thought her spirit departed, but finally she sighed. “What is done is done, is it not? Now, will you take part in the future? You, Druid, were raised in the special knowledge that is as old as the world itself. You have understanding and abilities far beyond common men. You led men in victorious battle. And yet you lie here in your squalor and self-pity. True, you have lost much, but have you lost yourself as well?”

“I have lost all! Yes, the special knowledge of which you speak was meant that I might advise kings. I fear—”

“You fear everything and cower here in this lowly cave.” Her derisive voice echoed in the darkness. “You even ran from an old priest who drove you from his village. Is that now the path of the mighty Druids who speak for their gods? To run and hide from the new religion or perhaps even succumb to it out of fear?”

My spirits sagged. “Do not ridicule me, My Queen—”

“You forget yourself! I can ridicule you, torture you and even kill you if it serves my purposes! You know that, do you not?”

“Of…of course, My Queen.” I had been careless with my words. “Please, I meant no disrespect, but why do you come to me now? I am of little value to the Lordly Ones.”

“Hmm, so finally you think to ask, eh? I am here to weigh your value, and as you freely admit, there’s little I have found of it. As for your future, we shall see. I also came to find if you remain true to your gods.”

“Why would you doubt me? I will remain true to my gods unto death. I said as much to Brendan himself and he was tolerant in his views toward me.”

“You are wrong. Have you already forgotten the fate of Master Druid Tóla? He too thought he found tolerance among Christians. Brendan possesses great patience in converting you to his faith through his teachings, yes, but no tolerance of your gods and beliefs.”

“Little it matters now. Soon Brendan will sail to the Northern Isles, so I shall speak to him no more.”

“Your gods will decide those things that matter. Be not so sure that you and Brendan will not meet again, be not so sure.”

* * *

Another week passed and I drifted upon the sea, fishing in my curragh. Soon I must return to the village to trade for bread and ale. Truth be told, I sometimes grew weary of my own company and wished to talk with men.

I was concentrating on my fishing when a porpoise surfaced beside my boat, saying, “I have been to the village. You told Brendan of the Blessed Isles, of Tír na nÓg?”

I knew the Morrigan could change her shape at will and came in many guises—a crow, a crone, a wolf, a beautiful red-haired woman, but it was a startling thing to see her appear beside me in the sea. My mind spun as I sought a proper response. “What? Uh…that is…yes. It was a meaningless conversation between two men, My Queen, no more. I spoke of the Blessed Isles to Brendan as simple amusement. I scarce think he believed me.”

The porpoise extended its head above the water. “You spoke too well, for the priest did believe you. Now he thinks of little else.”

“And so? To what end?”

“To go there, Ossian! To go there! Even now he prepares to sail to the Blessed Isles to convert the Golden Ones living there to his religion.”

To go there, she said? It was an astonishing thing! How could Brendan ever think to find them? Even with all my knowledge of the movements of the sun, the moon and the stars, I would at best hold only a slim hope of reaching the Isles…though I had no reason to try.

“You are surprised, are you not?” the Morrigan asked. “Yes, he is going and if he is successful in finding Tír na nÓg, the fault will be yours.”

“The fault would be mine, My Queen? What fault?”

“I told you, many in the Sidhe have gone to Tír na nÓg and others will soon follow. This new religion has already swept Gaul, Pictland, Dalriada,
Calchfynedd, Dumnonia…the list is endless, and now it has captured our sacred Eire. The Blessed Isles are the last sanctuary of your gods. Brendan must not be allowed to find the Isles and convert the Golden Ones.”

“Yes, of course. I…I see it plainly now, but who would have thought Brendan would be so foolhardy as to…” My voice trailed away as I considered the enormity of it.

“Make the attempt? Oh yes, he will certainly make the attempt. We look for you to travel with him so that he does not succeed.”

“No man can find
Tír na nÓg on his own.” I pointed out to sea. “Only the gods can lead him there.”

“And you think Brendan’s god could not show him the way?” The porpoise head nodded. “He can, you know. Oh yes, Brendan can most certainly find the Isles, so now you must stop him.”

An immense wave rose from the surface of the sea, rocking my boat violently. My grip on the gunwales tightened while the Morrigan hovered unaffected on the water’s surface.

“You demand that I go with him?”
My shaken mind reeled; my eyes swept the sea, the shore and the sky in confusion. “My Queen, surely you can’t be serious? I say again, Brendan’s quest is foolhardy and I would be equally foolish to accompany him.”

“No, Ossian. It is foolish for you to remain here trembling in your cave. It is foolish to think that a Druid can survive here in the old ways in the face of the Corcu Duibne and the growing number of intolerant Christian tribes like them who would in the end destroy you. You, like your gods, must leave Eire and go to the west. Your future is there, not here.”

I wasn’t convinced, her words made little sense. “Yes, I see, but if I were to agree to go—”

“No, you shall go!” The fixed smile on the porpoise-face belied her temperament. “Your gods face a crisis, and forget not it is a crisis caused by you. We offer you no option but to go with Brendan and foil his plans.”

My gods were leaving; running away in the face of the Christian god? And hadn’t the Morrigan herself just now chided me again for running before the Christian tribes? I held my tongue at the pretense of it. Yet how could I hope to prevail where the gods themselves could not? She offered me no choice. Though the gods’ powers might be waning, well I knew the penalty for defying their wishes…especially hers.

I looked into her gray, porpoise eyes. “My Queen, it was not my intention to question the desires of the Lordly Ones, but rather Brendan’s. He will fill his boat with fanatical monks to spread his religion. Why would he allow me, a known Druid, to accompany him?”

“Brendan’s
why
is not our concern. You must find a way to persuade him.”

She made demands though offered no guidance? “Of course I understand—” But the porpoise had disappeared beneath the waves.

* * *

During the following week my thoughts often returned to the Morrigan. Had I truly seen her and heard her voice, or was it only the mad imaginings of a solitary man? Would Brendan truly journey to the Blessed Isles? It was unlikely, and yet…augh! The gods had their own plans and twisted words to their own ends. They were a wily group and could not always be trusted.

Of one thing I had grown certain. Whether real or imagined, the Morrigan was right. Inexorable change was sweeping the land and, if my gods were leaving, Eire no longer held anything for me other than certain death by the Corcu Duibne or another Christian tribe like them.

If it was also true that Brendan planned a voyage to find the Golden Ones, I must find a way to sail with him. Such an unheard-of adventure could bring unimagined rewards, though it was far more likely to end in disaster and my own death. It mattered not. Why remain here and die at the hands of Christian zealots when I might yet serve the will of my gods?

* * *

I spent three days gathering all I might to trade within the village. It was night as I sat by my fire thinking to travel there the next morning.

A large wolf prowled outside my cave mouth and sat down to stare at me. I knew it for the Morrigan even before she spoke. “So, you would obey our wishes and go to the village to speak with Brendan?”

I was no longer surprised by her magical appearances. “Yes, My Queen. I leave in the morning.”

“What will you offer that you might convince the priest to allow you to travel with him to the Blessed Isles?”