by Wade McMahan
“We made a bargain and you now own a piece of my heart. It will take time for us to understand one another, eh?” I chuckled. “I pray we both have the patience for it.”
A nearby groan brought me to my feet. Goban.
I stood away at a cautious distance lest vestiges of Sonneillon’s hatred still dwelt within him.
My friend sat up and shook his head. His eyes swept the clearing, coming to rest on me.
“You’re alive,” he muttered. Goban rose to his knees and bowed. “No man who betrayed ye as I did deserves the honor to remain your friend. Still, I beg ye forgive me weakness in the face of the monster.”
“Goban, my friend, I—”
“Never has anythin’ defeated me so easily as that demon did. He possessed me mind, and I couldn’t… Tell me, lad. Am I forgiven?”
“Aye.” I grinned. “You’re forgiven.”
“Thank ye, Ossian, you see I…” He glanced around. “Where is that fiend, anyway?”
“Sonneillon’s gone. The gods—”
“They killed him, eh? Hah. A good job that, I say.”
He hung his head, then looked up, his eyes haunted. “Were they truly here? I mean, was it I lost me mind and only dreamed the gods joined us?”
I nodded. “They were here, but I wouldn’t advise speaking of it when we return to the village.”
“Yes, those villagers would think me crazy, wouldn’t they?” He sighed. “Well, I can’t say I’d blame ’em for it. In truth, it may be you and I are both crazy. Anyway, I’ll keep me mouth shut right enough.”
Whistling broke the silence; a lilting tune coming towards us.
“What do ye know?” Goban cackled. “That be Torcán, the dirty scoundrel.”
The warrior rounded a boulder, stopped short upon seeing us and glanced around. “What happened to the glowing hole?”
“What hole?” Goban snorted.
“And the mountain’s on fire.”
“We know. Now tell us—what of the cat? It’s dead?”
Admiration filled me as Torcán shrugged. “Would I be standing here talking to you if it wasn’t? I owed it to the spirits of the poor village lads it killed to make an end to it. Ahem. You see, I—”
“Ach.” Goban shook his finger at the warrior’s nose. “You’re a madman to go about ridin’ a beastly cat. That’s what ye are, a madman. Your story will wait ’til we reach the village. Ye can tell Ossian and me all about it over a mug.”
“Ah,” Torcán winked, “you’ve a keen wit about you, my friend, a keen wit indeed. You’ve a keg?”
“Of course, I’ve a keg.”
I jerked a thumb over my shoulder. “And I’ve a full wine flask on my saddle.”
“So,” Torcán stepped forward and slapped my back, “is it any wonder they call you Druids ‘Wise Ones?’ Lead on, for I suffer a powerful thirst.”
Their banter continued as we rode down the mountain; needful words to release lingering tension. Little I added to it, for I was thinking of my gods—and I had a new one to consider.
Chapter 36
Destiny’s Winds
Morrigan waited upon the ridge, her white gown ablaze within the setting sun. Her concerned frown greeted me as I limped into the small clearing.
“You’re injured?”
“Just sore and bruised, is all.” I grinned, leaning upon the Staff. “Then again, I wouldn’t be here at all had you not saved my life last night.”
“Nay, it was you who saved us all,” she gasped, and rushed forward into my arms, our hearts pounding, lips joined. There we remained until her slender hands pushed me away.
Delight filled her face and she cocked her head as she stepped back and looked me up and down. “I hoped to find you wearing your splendid new robe.”
“No. I discovered it upon wakening this morning. It was a surprising gift. I thank you, but it is a Master Druid’s robe. I am unworthy and may not wear it.”
“Your gods will decide your worth, Master Ossian.”
“Master? But—”
“Quiet. Lugh himself bestowed the title upon you. Besides, the robe wasn’t my gift. It was Brigid who wove it of the finest scarlet linen. With her own hands, she embroidered the golden serpent across the front. She brought it to you during the night.” Her eyes twinkled. “The most beautiful of all the goddesses seems to admire you very much. Perhaps I must keep closer watch over you.”
Laughter filled me as I thought back to the night Laoidheach spent with Brigid atop the fairy mound. “Very well.” I chuckled. “I shall wear the robe with pride to honor my gods. Yes, at the proper time, I shall wear it.”
She cocked her head and smiled. “Do you know who you are, my love? Do you realize what you’ve become?”
“Does it matter? I doubt any man can say he fully knows himself this side of Tír na nÓg. If I can say that I am the man who gained the Morrigan’s love, it is enough. Regardless, it seems an odd question when I sail with Brendan in just a few more days.”
“It is because of your sailing that we must talk, for there is much to tell you. The Lordly Ones are pleased with you, my love. Lugh also insisted I release you from your vow to sail with Brendan. You need not go. The decision rests with you.”
“Then it is a simple decision. I pledged to you that I would go with Brendan to ensure he does not reach Tir na nÓg. Nothing has changed about that. And haven’t you told me more than once I have no future here—that my destiny, whatever it may be, lies to the west? In truth, I am honored that Lugh chose to notice me, but I sail with Brendan.”
“You are your father’s son, and reflect the best of Master Tóla’s teachings. Yes, destiny guides you, though little I thought the poor creature I discovered in the cave so long ago could come so far. Never would I have thought that, by your leaving, I would grieve so much.”
Eagerness filled me. “Then sail with me. You can remain aboard in many forms, unnoticed—”
“No, my beloved. That I cannot do, though my heart yearns to follow you. Within the cave of the Tuatha I told you, my duty lies here. Souls must be reaped, and upon these shores I shall remain so long as a single Irishman remains loyal to the Sidhe.”
It would be a hard thing to leave her, though I knew I must. “Promise me, then, to someday meet me at Tír na nÓg.”
“Of course, my love. It is there beneath the magical Rowans we shall meet, though I feel it will be many years from today. There is something more, an important thing between us. We must…oh.”
Arms widespread, she raised her face skyward, as if listening to an unheard voice. “There is fighting in the lands of the Airgialla. Warriors have fallen. I must go. Promise to meet me here on the eve of your sailing.”
I nodded, and she disappeared within a glittering rainbow.
* * *
A pipe played somewhere, animating the dancers within the village center. Erc and his beastly cats were dead and word had quickly spread, sparking the celebration. Joy reigned within the small, festive gathering, but then again, it was a tiny village.
Beneath a cloudless sky, Brendan idled across the table from me, his flushed face little revealing the poisoning that should have killed him. Nevertheless, Tobias, ever the steadfast monk hovered over him, his worried eyes rarely leaving his beloved Father.
A smile lit the priest’s face as the dancers swirled about. “There is joy and richness among our people, and I shall miss them during our voyage.” He chuckled. “In my youth I was quite a dancer myself.”
“Then by all means, join them.” I chortled, sipping ale from my mug.
“Father Brendan will do no such shameful thing.” Folding his arms over his chest, Tobias scowled. “A man of his status—”
“Please, Brother,” Brendan interrupted. “Pride is sinful in the eyes of God. We are all equal in His eyes.
My apologies, father.” Tobias nodded. “You are right, of course.”
“Look,” I pointed and grinned. “Torcán and Goban have an audience. They’ve spoken
of their adventures several times already, and each time their stories grow with the telling.”
Brendan chuckled and turned his attention to me. “We all stood out in the darkness and wondered about the fires on the mountain,” he muttered, his elbow resting on the table. “You’ve said little during the past two days, but it must have been a terrible thing that, confronting Erc as you did.”
His words washed past me as my foolish stomach rumbled in anticipation at the enticing aroma of broiling meat, fresh-baked breads and pastries. The ale must suffice while delicious aromas hovered in the air.
“It’s been in my thoughts to say more to you about it, and I will,” I admitted. “However, today is for relaxing and enjoying being alive. I’ll say this, though. Your Christian mysteries contain malevolent spirits more fearsome than any that ever before threatened these shores. Had it not been for the intervention of Jehovah himself, I would not be sitting here with you this day.”
“You called upon Him?” Tobias asked, his hands clasped beneath his chin.
“Aye. That I did.”
“Glory be.” His hand swept from his forehead to his chest as he made the sign of the cross. “God be praised.”
“Yes, may His Name be praised, but one moment.” Brendan frowned, waving a hand. “God and his son, Jesus Christ, bring love, kindness and understanding to the world. He offers everlasting life to those who follow Him. You imply there is evil in that?”
“Of course not. No doubt you are right in your high regard for Jehovah and his son.”
A sip of ale cooled my throat, the sun beamed agreement with my temperament. I stretched forth my legs, lazing in the pleasantries of the afternoon.
“It is a beautiful day, Brendan, and here we sit chattering away like old women.” The mug in my hand swept ’round the crowd. “Look about. The villagers enjoy themselves. No doubt they are smarter than the both of us.”
Brendan cocked an eyebrow. “You avoided my question. Why?”
“And why not? Breathe deep the fresh air, my friend. Feel the sun’s warmth on your face. It’s a fine day to be alive, isn’t it? What is past is past and we mustn’t cast a cloud upon this perfect day. Ah, now look.” I pointed. “Women are laying out the food.”
A grin spread across my lips as I rose, offering the priest a hand. “Come. Up with you, lazy priest. My stomach offers its apologies, but insists I see to its needs right away.”
* * *
Six days later, final preparations for the voyage were complete. On the eve of our sailing, my mind wandered as I took the trail above the village, anxious to fulfill my promise to the Morrigan.
During the past few days I shared with Brendan all that happened on the mountain. The importance of the arrival of the demon Sonneillon was not lost upon the priest. His comments about the Lordly Ones held my thoughts while I trekked up the narrow trail.
“I am overjoyed that you found God on the mountain,” he told me. “A true miracle though it was, you were mistaken in thinking your pagan gods joined you there to confront the demon. It is understandable why you believe as you do. You learned only pagan beliefs during your youth and Druid’s training. They are all you know.
“Listen to me and make no mistake, Ossian, for what I tell you is His Truth. There is One God, and He stood with you on the mountain long before you called upon Him. Consider this, for it explains what and who you encountered. The beings you saw were His emissaries—His angels, Saints, or perhaps both. I ask you: Is it only possible that the spirits your people have worshipped for generations are, in fact, God’s representatives?”
What manner of foolishness was that? Though I listened politely, I knew my gods well. Hadn’t I spoken with them many times? Did I not know and love the Morrigan? It seemed Jehovah held truths well beyond Brendan’s simple beliefs. Then again, how could I know Jehovah’s thoughts?
I chuckled as I remembered my father’s words. “Do not place over much reliance in the Lordly Ones; they can be a capricious lot.” It seemed the Christian god moved in ways to suit his own purposes as well.
Regardless, little I knew of Jehovah, though no doubt his will would prove as enigmatic as those of the Lordly Ones. Such busied my mind as I wound along the narrow path among the gorse.
If gods can hold all men in their hearts, why can’t men hold all gods in theirs? Perhaps that is a singular failing of men. Perhaps our hearts simply aren’t large enough to contain more than one faith. What a pity. I fear it will prove a bane for humanity throughout all time.
* * *
“Tomorrow you sail and your time upon our lovely island will come to an end. Are you saddened by it?”
She lay beside me upon our bed of leaves, the place of our lovemaking. Her question broke the spell of my daydream, one where I spent eternity lying there in her arms.
“In a way, of course.” I rolled over, facing her, my head propped in my hand as I stroked her hair. “Do you recall Socrates’ words? ‘Man’s life is like a drop of dew on a leaf.’ Think of it, Morrigan. Even though ephemeral, was not the dewdrop important to the leaf? Did it not for a brief, glittering moment combine with others of its kind to bring luster to the garden? Looking back, I made many mistakes and lost all here. Yet, it is as a dewdrop that I shall remember my life here.”
“It is a lovely sentiment, but what of tomorrow’s dew?”
“What of it? The future for this land is bright, I think, but my time will have passed. Other than you, no one will remain behind to long remember me.”
“Oh, but that is not true.” She sat upright and smiled down at me. “There will be one more. We must discuss our son.”
“Our sun? Belenos?” I glanced up, feeling the warmth on my face. “What possible—?”
“No, you foolish man. Not Belenos.” A breeze touched her hair as she chuckled. “I speak of our child, your son.”
Baile of the Honeyed Speech fled my mouth, leaving me speechless.
“Have you swallowed your tongue? Have you nothing to say about becoming a father?”
A father? I was to become a father? The voice emanating from my throat was unfamiliar, like that of a croaking frog. “I…that is… How old will he be?”
“How old? When he is born?” She snorted. “Have you lost your wits?”
“Yes!” Leaping upright with a whoop, arms crossed over my chest, my feet dancing a jig, I twirled ’round and ’round.
Laughter crinkled her nose, the sound of it like that of tinkling bells. “Yes, but he must have a name. We must speak of that before you leave, you know.”
A name? My head reeled, so I hurried to regain my seat beside her. I strove to calm myself, for naming a son was no small thing. The naming ritual would be required to ensure approval by the gods and good fortune for the child. It was a silly thought. A goddess sat beside me.
While my eager mind still searched for a name, she offered, “I think to call him Cáerthann, for it is beneath the Rowans we pledged to someday meet at Tír na nÓg.” Then, Morrigan spoke the words of Ogma in little more than a whisper.
Within the Grove stand the Peasant Trees, seven their numbers be,
The Birch, a well-known song of love,
The Alder, blesse’d healer’s glove,
The stately Rowan stands alone, evermore the diviner’s tree.
The noble Elm courageous, festooned with spearpoints of blood,
Unbelove’d Hawthorn, alas,
The Wild Cherry, a Fairy lass,
The bending Willow stands firm within mighty windstorms and flood.
Cáerthann. The name rolled around in my mind, a word some substituted for Rowan, and I nodded. “It is a fitting name. There is magic in the Rowan just as there is magic in a changeling child. Yes. I agree. Our son shall be called Cáerthann, son of Ossian, son of Ciann Mehigan, son of Gicrode.”
A smile touched her lips as she laid her hand upon my arm. “Wherever you may be, know that your son shall take large steps across this land.”
In that momen
t, my plans changed. “I will not go with Brendan. You have foreseen that if I sail with him, I shall never return. Now I have a choice. Lugh released me from my vow, so my first responsibility lies with our son now.”
“No, my love. You must go. We have spoken of this before. Eire undergoes a time of sweeping change and nothing remains here for you. Your future lies to the west with Brendan.”
“I am sick unto death of the sweeping change of which you speak, for it has stolen much from me. My entire family, friends, the future I hoped to enjoy are all gone now. Only you remain, and soon our son who I value above all things. I will not permit the damnable change upon this land to steal the two of you from me as well.”
“You will not permit it?” Her eyes grew large. “Perhaps you have forgotten the Corcu Duibne? Oh my Ossian, why would you think to throw your life away when it would do our son no good? The Corcu have sworn vengeance against you and demand blood for blood. Their warriors number in the thousands and they won’t stop coming until you are dead.”
“Nonetheless, here I will remain.”
“Do you think to benefit our son or your own stubborn self?”
Blood rushed to my face. Ah, sometimes she could be so annoying. “I think of holding my son in my arms. How can you ask me to turn my back upon him and sail away, never to return? What kind of father, what manner of man would not want to see his son grow tall beside him? Should I leave, Cáerthann would think his father a coward, and rightly so. No. I will stand before my enemies. My principles—”
She squeezed my arm, shaking it, her nails biting deep. “Who cares about your precious principles? Don’t you understand they don’t matter anymore? What matter principles while you lay dying with an arrow in your back? What’s more, if the Corcu find Cáerthann with you, they will kill him as well. Stand up to the enemy like a man you say, but I say this: Our son deserves a chance for life. You will not kill him while you defend your principles.”