Oracle Dreams Trilogy

by Teri Barnett

  “Go on, child,” he said. “Tell me what troubles you.”

  “Should there be something troubling me?” Maere asked, her voice an octave higher than normal. Her eyes widened and she distractedly fumbled her hair into a braid.

  “Everyone has troubles. And everyone has sins, from a newborn babe to an old man,” he said, patiently. “Now, will you seek to confess your misdeeds before God?”

  Maere squeezed her hands against her stomach as it rolled and rumbled. How could she tell him what she’d done? How could she put it into words without dying of shame and embarrassment? “I don’t know where to start, Father.”

  “The beginning is always a good place.”

  “True,” she conceded with a slight smile. “If I only knew how all this began, I’d be happy to divulge it to you. As it is, all I know is that almost every night I’m visited by a man.”

  “A man?! A man comes to the anchorage?” the priest all but bellowed.

  “No. No, Father. It’s not like that at all. I see him in my dreams,” she explained quickly.

  “Hmmm. In your dreams, you say,” Father John repeated, his voice growing calm again. “What does he do there?”

  “He mostly watches from a distance, but the disturbing thing is—I know he’s coming for me. And I know he’ll be here soon.” Tears filled her eyes. “What should I do?”

  “How can you know this, that a man is on his way here?” Father John’s dry voice took on a demanding urgency. “Have you been casting the stones? Are you practicing magic?”

  For the second time in as many weeks, someone had asked her if she was performing magic. How had her life turned so completely upside down? She sighed. “It’s not magic telling me he’s coming. It’s my gut. I feel it right there, like a cold lump of iron.” In her mind’s eye, Maere saw a strong hand reach into her and pull out the iron. The fingers molded the metal, turning it over and over in its palm. When it finally glowed fiery red, the hand pushed it back inside her. Her stomach burned just thinking about it. She pushed the picture away.

  “You speak of strange things, girl. I am compelled to tell you I fear for your immortal soul.”

  Maere bowed her head, silent.

  “Do you have anything else to say before I give you your penance?”

  Maere dug her fists into her eyes, took a deep breath, then let her hands drop to her side. She’d come this far already, she might as well tell everything. “I dreamed he was here again last night,” she said, her voice catching as she spoke. “I dreamed he, he—” She couldn’t go on.

  “He what?”

  She raised her eyes heavenward and blinked back the tears. “He held me, intimately.”

  “I see,” Father John said. “And tell me this, did you enjoy the act?”

  “Enjoy it?” Maere repeated, embarrassment giving way to incredulity. “What does this have to do with anything?”

  “Answer the question,” he demanded.

  “I, I don’t know. When I was sleeping, I suppose I did. But when I woke up, I realized the evil which had possessed me.” She swallowed hard and her cheeks burned hot. “Why do you ask such a thing of me?”

  “The measurement of the sin for this dream is by how well you enjoyed indulging in the pleasures of the flesh. If you had said it was distasteful to you, then it wouldn’t be as great a sin. Since you found it enjoyable, you’ll have to accept a higher degree of punishment,” he said, his patience obviously exhausted. “I’m sure you know, for this sin the penance is a sound beating.”

  Maere hung her head and wrapped her arms around herself. To be flagellated in front of the entire community of sisters and brothers? “When?” She had fallen so low.

  “We’ll assemble in the usual place, behind the chapel. I will discuss this with the abbess. Someone will come for you at sunset.”

  Maere heard him take a step away from the anchorage, the cawing of a bird rang out in the distance. “Is there no other way?” she whispered after him.

  “Absolutely none.”

  Dylan lay on his back, watching the play of light amidst the pine branches in the forest near St. Columba’s Abbey. It was hard to be here, so close to Maere, but forced to wait until the right moment.

  She would be grateful, he decided, to be removed from the stricture of the convent. To be able to run free again would be her greatest joy, of this he was most certain. He smiled to himself.

  He reached up and pulled a small cone from a branch. Dylan closed his hand tightly around it for a moment. When he opened it again, the pinecone had been transformed into a miniature replica of its mother. With his free hand, he made a little hole in the soft needles and planted the tree there. As he worked, a raven flew overhead, loudly beating its wings before landing nearby.

  “Do you realize what they have planned for her tonight?”

  He leaned back, resting on one elbow. His eyes met Morrigu’s, as she transformed into her human form. “Tell me.”

  “They will beat her,” she said, her voice smooth and without emotion. There was even the hint of a smile on her face as she slowly moved toward Dylan, her hair swirling around her naked form. Laying down beside him she trailed her fingers up his chest.

  He stiffened. “How do you know? Why are they doing this?”

  “I know because I heard the girl’s confession.” Morrigu licked her lips, then leaned over and ran her tongue along his cheek, tracing the silvery scar of her mark. “And it’s because of you she’ll be hurt.”

  Dylan sat up, leaving the goddess where she lay. “What do you mean ‘because of me’? How could that be?”

  “Now, now. Don’t play games with me. I know you’ve been visiting her.” She pouted. “Do you think I didn’t see your spirit leave last night as you sent it to the anchorage?” She raised herself up on her knees and ran her hands through her long black hair. “You’ve stirred a great fear in the girl. Now, they want to beat the fear out of her.”

  “That doesn’t make sense. There was nothing fearful in the dream.” He shook his head. “I don’t understand.”

  “What you don’t understand are these Christians. They fear what happens between a man and a woman. It is one of their greatest fears. They run from the power of it.” She pouted. “I find it distasteful and I don’t mind telling you, I long for the old days when men and women shared freely the pleasures of the flesh and my brothers and sisters enjoyed what I gave them.” She caressed his cheek, then ran her hands lightly over her breasts. “Come, Dylan. Worship me.”

  Dylan stood so abruptly she toppled over. “I have to get to Maere.”

  Morrigu lay back on the moss, fanning her midnight hair about her, exposing her nubile form completely. “Leave her to the sisters and priests for now,” she purred. “Nothing will happen until dusk.” She opened her arms, the sunlight bathing her breasts in a warm glow.

  “You realize, Dylan, she’s almost of age? She doesn’t need to be your concern any longer.”

  His eyes locked with the goddess’s. “Her coming of age is exactly what I need to be concerned with. If Eugis should get to her first—”

  “I’m certain you have nothing to worry about.” Morrigu’s lips curved up in a sultry smile. “Besides, I need you more at this moment than she does.” Morrigu ran her hands over her breasts and down her belly.

  Dylan’s gaze traveled the length of her creamy curves. At one time, he would have leapt on Morrigu in an instant, eager to pleasure her for as long as she wanted. She had taught him everything about the intimacies between a man and a woman and for that he would be forever grateful.

  But now, looking down at her petulant beauty, he almost felt sorry for her. Kate was right. Morrigu was as fickle as the wind and her only thought was for herself. He had to make haste, but nor did he want to offend the goddess. He sighed and crouched beside her. He leaned over and kissed her softly on the lips. �
��Thank you, my goddess, for everything you have given me. But I must go. I cannot allow anything to happen to Maere.”

  Morrigu frowned and crossed her arms over her chest. “I prefer you concern yourself only with me at the moment, Dylan mac Connell.”

  She eyed him, but he didn’t falter. “If, as you say, Maere is in danger, I must save her.”

  “Remember this was your choice, to leave me for her.” Morrigu stood and began to shift into her raven form. “Off with you, then. Go and rescue your maiden.”

  In a fluid movement, Morrigu completed her transformation and, letting out a loud caw, flew high into the treetops and disappeared from sight.

  Chapter 10

  Maere sat cross-legged near the anchorage opening she’d crawled into only a few days earlier. Thin pink rays of dusky light filtered in through the narrow hole. She leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees, and watched as dust danced and twirled in the fading beam.

  Her fingers absently played with the citrine disk necklace she’d slipped on a moment before. The golden gem was smooth and warm beneath her touch and her thoughts drifted to her mother and father. Still disturbed by the words of her visitor and the drawing he’d left behind, she suddenly recalled that he had known her mother and father’s name! How had she missed that?

  Wearily, she rubbed her eyes. Given the chain of events following his visit, she supposed it wasn’t surprising she’d let that detail slip by her. Maere tried to conjure up the faces of Manfred and Rhea cu Llwyr. Had the stranger known them? No matter how hard she concentrated, though, no images would come from her memory. It was as if a stone wall existed in her mind, thick and impenetrable, keeping the secrets of her past hidden from view.

  The rustling of leaves outside told her someone was coming. The moment she’d been agonizing over all day had finally arrived. It was time for the public admittance of her sins and the beating that would follow. Why had she said anything? She had known what she was inviting but had spoken out just the same. What was wrong with her that she couldn’t keep her mouth closed? Surely, the abbess had told her many a time her tongue was much too loose.

  Had she really been so foolish as to believe Father John would treat her any differently than he treated the other novitiates? Had she really been silly enough to think he was a messenger from God, sent to her as she prayed for guidance? Why, after all, would she expect Him to send someone to look after her and her needs, lowly maiden that she was?

  “Maere?”

  Surprised, Maere turned her head in the direction of the voice. “Seelie?”

  “Aye.” Seelie reached a hand through the opening. “Grab hold. I’ll help you.”

  Maere flattened herself against the dirt floor, extended her hand, and allowed the other woman to pull her through. When she emerged, she pushed herself to her feet and immediately shaded her eyes from the sun. Though it was fast approaching dusk, the orb still glowed with rich spring brilliance against the azure sky. Maere looked away and patted and tugged her habit into place. A cloud of dust she’d gathered in leaving the anchorage flew up around her. She shook as much of it away as she could, hoping the rest would blend into her clothing.

  “I don’t think they’ll care much about how your dress looks,” Seelie said.

  “I suppose not.” Maere bent over a patch of grass and wiped her hands on the ground covering. “You know what’s happened, then?”

  Seelie nodded. “The abbess told me, when she asked me to come after you.” She grabbed Maere’s arm and leaned toward her friend as they began to walk. “I can’t believe you told the priest about your dreams.” She pinched the fleshy part of the young woman’s upper arm. “What could you have been thinking?”

  Maere jerked to a stop, yelping and grimacing. She rubbed the bruise Seelie had inflicted. “What did you do that for?”

  “To try and force some sense into you.” Seelie stopped walking as well. “Don’t you realize everyone has these same thoughts? But do you think they tell?” She stomped her foot, startling a squirrel. The animal turned tail and scurried up the scarred trunk of an old oak. “Of course, they don’t tell! And do you know why? Because they know they’ll get a beating for having them!”

  “What about the ones who did tell?” Maere countered. “Were they not absolved of the sin?” She pursed her lips together. “Or are you suggesting they wanted to be beaten?”

  “I have no idea either way.” Seelie snorted. The young women began walking again. “As far as I’m concerned, it’s plain to see they’re simple-minded.” She glanced at Maere. “And now I suppose I’ll be putting you in the same basket.”

  “I—I didn’t want this to happen, Seelie.” Tears tumbled down Maere’s cheeks. “I don’t know what I was thinking. I s’pose I just needed to say the words out loud.”

  “Oh, I know, girl.” Seelie put her arm around Maere’s shoulders. “And I’m sorry to be scolding you at a time like this.”

  “I don’t know what came over me. There I was, praying for guidance, when Father John appeared out of the air.” She shrugged. “I thought he was sent by God to help me sort the thoughts in my head. I realized my mistake too late.” She stopped walking and leaned against the stone wall which separated the abbey and its grounds from the monastery. A bower of green ivy spilled over the rocks and teased the back of Maere’s neck. She brushed it away and continued talking. “I didn’t even tell him about the other man.”

  “What other man?” Seelie asked, her eyes wide. “You haven’t told me about him, either.”

  “He only just appeared since I’ve been ensconced. I saw him, here.” She pointed to her head. “He was older, with gray hair. He said he was coming for me.” Maere pushed herself away from the wall and faced Seelie. “Have I gone mad?” She searched the other woman’s face. “We’ve known each other for a long time. Tell me honestly. Do I seem different to you? Have I changed?”

  Maere shifted from foot to foot as her friend looked her over. Seelie took Maere’s hands into her own. “Aye. You’ve changed. I can see the lines of worry etched around your mouth and across your forehead. There are dark circles under your eyes, telling me you haven’t slept. I don’t mind telling you, you’re a fright, girl.” She gripped Maere’s arms. “You must overcome this. The priests’ll like nothing better than if you become hysterical. They’ll say the Devil himself has possessed you and give you an even worse beating.”

  Maere looked away and hung her head. She blinked back the new tears forming in her eyes. “I fear they’ll be right,” she murmured.

  Seelie gave her a hard shake and Maere’s hair tumbled loose down her back. “Leave that nonsense behind. Keep your head high when they question you and try not to stumble before them.” She released her and Maere pushed the coppery strands out of her eyes.

  Maere stared hard at Seelie for a moment, considering her words. “When did you become so wise?” she finally asked, wiping the tears away with the back of her hand. “You give good advice, my friend.” She offered a weak smile. “I’ll try my best to follow it.”

  Seelie patted Maere on the shoulder. “What you call wisdom is very new to me. The knowledge has only come upon me since that night in your room. It’s only fitting that I should use it now to assist you.” She nodded in the direction of the timber and dried-sod chapel. “They’ll be waiting.”

  “Lead the way, then,” Maere said, her voice strained. “I’ll offer up the beating for the sinful souls of the deceased who are burning with the Devil. Surely, they need comfort more than me.” She shook her head as they began to walk again. “And next time, I swear I’ll be keeping my thoughts to myself.”

  “Maere! Seelie!” A girl with dark brown hair flying behind her came running toward them.

  “What is it, Robin?” Seelie asked. It was Abbess Magrethe’s young maid. “You look as if you’ve seen a spirit.”

  “Not a spirit,” she panted. “
A man!”

  Maere smiled and ruffled the girl’s hair. “It’s not like you haven’t seen one before. The priests and monks do live in the building on the other side of the wall, after all.”

  Robin sighed, exasperated. “There’s something different about ‘im. And, besides, he’s asked for you, Maere. The abbess says you’re to come right away.”

  Maere’s stomach dropped. She pushed her hands against the soft flesh as her face grew pale. “What did he look like?” she asked, her voice barely a whisper.

  Robin turned and started running toward the abbey. “I don’t have time to tell you,” she called over her shoulder. “Abbess’ll punish me if I don’t return right away.” She turned and ran backwards, her long skirt whipping between her gangly legs. “Please. You have to come along now!” she shouted, then turned around again and began running in earnest.

  Seelie started after the girl when Maere stepped in front of her, her eyes wild. She waved her hand in the air. “We can’t go! What if it’s him?”

  Seelie planted her fists on her hips. “So what if it is? You can’t be running forever.” She pointed at Maere. “Get some courage, girl, and let’s go face whatever the Lord has planned for you.”

  Maere glanced over Seelie’s shoulder. The sun was almost down. The abbey—with its tall bell tower and long corridors that reached out like pointed fingers—was looming dark in the distance. She took a deep breath and let it out slowly.

  Deep in thought, Maere began walking. Seelie was right. She couldn’t go on running from her fears for the rest of her life. It was time she faced them, head on. She squared her shoulders and tilted her chin a notch higher. Face them she would, beginning with this moment.

  Chapter 11

  Despite her firm resolve, when Maere entered the abbey, the voice of doubt began ringing in her head. With each stone step she climbed toward the abbess’s upstairs office, the words repeated themselves over and over. Step. Run. Step. Away. Step. Run. Step. Away. Each scrape of her thin leather shoes sounded out the verse like a child’s song. But before she could react to the command, she was at the top of the long open stairway.