by Неизвестный
The door banged back and a uniformed man burst into the house. Enid’s heart jumped. One of the druids’ enforcers! She fought down her panic and struggled for serenity.
"Where is she?" The enforcer strode her way, his hand on his sword hilt. Beefy and muscular, he had a broken nose. He reeked of garlic.
Enid folded her hands and sought calmness. "I presume you mean Briana. That ungrateful wretch! After all I’ve done for her she left this house last night. Took all my silver--"
"You lie, woman!" He drew his hand back, then let it fall to his side. "Tell me where she is and I’ll go easy on you. But if you don’t cooperate, we know how to get the information from you. After we pull a few nails...."
"Why, sir, would you do such a thing?" With every bit of concentration she could summon, she applied the glamour, her wrinkles disappearing, her hair turning a glossy black. She rose from her chair and spoke in a husky voice. "Why would I lie to a big, handsome man like you?" She caressed his arm, smiling her most beguiling smile, hating herself--hating him--for this game of bewitchment she must play. "But tell me, please, why you are looking for Briana."
He leered at her, twisting a lock of her silky hair between his fingers. "You know every year on the afternoon of Samhain the druids choose the most beautiful maiden in the village to sacrifice to the gods, to keep the evil spirits away from our houses."
She tilted her head. "But Samhain is days away. And the druids always wait ‘til the day of Samhain to make their choice."
"To announce their choice. They make their choice a few days before the ceremony. They could hardly wait ‘til that afternoon to decide whom to choose. No, they already have."
"Ah. And Briana?"
"Well, she is the most beautiful maiden in the village." He licked his lips, a gleam in his eyes. "But now that I’ve seen you, I wonder if they chose the right one."
She sought to divert him. If she wasn’t careful, he would drag her off to the druids. "But why did you come today for Briana? What made the druids think she wouldn’t be here?"
"Well, knowin’ you’re a witch and all that, the druids suspected you might foretell their decision. You might send the girl away."
She stepped back in insulted pride. "As if I would do such a thing! Do you really think I would thwart the druids’ wishes? No, sir, I tell you she left this house last night, left this woman--" she tapped her chest--me!, who has done so much for her, treated her like my own daughter. Acted perfectly normal yesterday evening, and when I got up this morning, she was gone." She allowed a tear to trickle down her cheek, too well aware she wasn’t really acting. Ah, how she missed Briana. "That’s gratitude for you. No, sir, she’s gone. Just like that! I suspect she’s headed south to stay with relatives in Greeb Point."
He stepped back. "South, you say?"
She nodded. "Makes sense. She’d stay with relatives, no doubt lie, tell them I was mean to her." Another tear ran down her cheek. "By all the gods, sir, I hope you find and punish her. Would serve her right if you did."
* * * *
"South," the enforcer told the assembled druids upon his return to the large sarsen stone temple. Several druids brooded around an oval table in a room filled with statues of gods and goddesses, and shelves crammed with religious volumes lining every wall.
Druid Ahearn sat up straight, his eyes flashing alarm. "We must find her, catch her before Samhain. If we don’t...." He shook his head, as though afraid to express his fears. The other druids nodded and fingered the worry beads that dangled from their bony hands.
And well he should be afraid, the enforcer thought, trembling in fear himself. He recalled the Samhain holy eve in years past, when his mother bolted the door and the family cowered in terror, while screams and cries tore through the night air, whether from the villagers or the demons let loose from the Otherworld, he didn’t know.
He snatched his mind back to the dilemma. "Shall I go after her? We have no time to lose!"
Druid Ahearn scowled. "You don’t need to tell me." He stroked his long beard. "And I hope Enid Connor realizes the consequences if she is lying. But no, I need you here for another task. Weylyn Quinn is the best rider we have, the most cunning enforcer, too. Where is he now, do you know?"
"Druid Ahearn, he just returned to his room. Had to lock up a woman for cursing the gods in the marketplace." All the enforcers had rooms in the temple, where they slept and kept their records. The rooms led off to a communal dining room, and that’s where he wished he were now, for he’d had to relinquish his noontime meal to go after that bitch, Briana Cashel.
"We are wasting time. Nothing is more important that catching Briana Cashel before Samhain." The druid visibly shuddered. "The gods have spoken. It is their choice." He snapped his fingers. "Go get Weylyn Quinn."
"Yes, sir." His booted feet sounded on the flagstone floor as he spun around and left the room.
Within moments, Weylyn Quinn appeared before the learned men and spoke to the head druid. "Druid Ahearn, how can I serve you?"
The druid tapped his fingers on the table and exchanged worried looks with the others. "Briana Cashel has disappeared. You must go after her, bring her back before Samhain.
Ah, no. Why must he be the one to go after Briana? "Yes, Druid Ahearn. But disappeared--why?" Briana, why did you do it? Had she learned that the druids had chosen her for the sacrifice? But of course, ‘twas said that her foster mother possessed magical powers, and no doubt Enid Connor had foreseen the druids’ choice. If the gods had struck him dead, he would gladly go to the Otherworld, anything to prevent him from pursuing Briana. Yet, he could not refuse, could not obstruct the will of the gods. To do so was to suffer eternal damnation.
"That witch, Enid Connor, told the other enforcer that she left to visit relatives in Greeb Point. Unless we learn more, we must accept her story. She surely knows the punishment for lying to us. The witch thinks she headed south, in the direction of Greeb Point. Hurry now, saddle your horse and be gone. We’ve wasted enough time."
"Yes, Druid Ahearn." Sunk in misery, Weylyn left the druids’ chamber and headed back to his room to gather needed supplies for the journey, then stopped by the spacious kitchen to fetch food. Druids in training worked in the kitchen and were accustomed to such requests. Tempting aromas filled the air, of baking bread and beef and onions, a meal he must forego. Time was important in this mission, and he couldn’t waste time to hunt game. Weylyn hoped to complete this journey within three or four days, for riding on horseback it should take him but a short while to catch up with Briana. For many moonphases, he’d wished for a promotion, wanting to oversee all the other enforcers. A successful completion of this task might ensure such an advancement, but it was too high a price to pay. Gods, he dreaded this assignment.
He left the warm kitchen, opening the door onto a raw, blustery day, striding toward the stable set back from the temple, where a copse of maples hid the wooden structure from view. The fragrance of hay and animals blew in his direction as he rushed across the hard ground and saw the stable boy grooming one of the horses.
He snapped his fingers. "Saddle my horse."
"Yes, sir."
He waited outside the structure, tapping his fingers on his thigh. The sun shone in a clear blue sky, but a cold wind rustled tree branches and scattered fallen leaves on the ground. Winter would arrive soon.
He turned as the stable boy brought Epona out by the reins, the chestnut sleek, with a white spot on her forehead.
First adjusting his woolen cloak, Weylyn mounted the horse and trotted away from the temple grounds, passing other riders and shoppers who crowded the busy streets. The temple occupied a central place in the village square, with a small hospital and library on either side. Beyond those buildings, shops and businesses lined both sides of the cobblestone street, the only such street in Lochlann. All the other streets were dirt roads. The scents of spices and roasting meats wafted through the air as vendors sold refreshments, and men, women, and children gathered arou
nd the booths. Salesmen hawked their wares of jewelry and leather goods, silken scarves and small wooden figurines of gods and goddesses. Beyond Lochlann and bordering the forest, huddled tiny thatched cottages, although a few prosperous merchants boasted mansions farther away. In all directions except south rose wooded hills, with only evergreens and hemlocks showing color on this cool autumn day.
Weylyn headed south, his mind working, sifting facts. Greeb Point lay over one nineday from this village. Why would Briana go in that direction, an odyssey of over two-hundred miles? She had never spoken of relatives in that village, nor had she ever visited there in all the years he’d known her, since childhood. Unless she reached an inn in time, Samhain eve would find her alone and unprotected, when gods and demons walked the dark places, and spirits roamed the land. Besides, he knew that she knew the forest by heart. They had often trekked the wooded hills together in years past. If one traveled west, it would take but a few days to reach Magh Mell, a truly populous city, where a fugitive--and indeed, she was that--could lose herself. So it would make more sense--
"Weylyn!"
He pulled hard on the reins, silently cursing Regan Mulhoney. She stopped him on the path, her auburn hair streaming behind her. "Regan! I might have ridden over you. You mustn’t surprise me or the horse like that."
She stood outside a thatched cottage, where she lived alone. ‘Twas said she was a witch, but as long as she practiced good magic, none would arrest her. However, he feared she practiced black magic, although none had found proof of her evil sorcery. She was beautiful, but she held no appeal for him.
"Weylyn, why are you leaving the village?"
"A task for the druids." He would not say another word. None of her business.
"A task? Where? Why?" The wind molded her dress to her body, accentuating every curve. She touched his arm, raising her eyebrows in question.
"Can’t tell you, Regan. Must be on my way." The horse shuffled, both of them impatient to be gone.
She held him back. "A secret, then?" Regan smiled up at him and moved closer, pressing her body against his leg. Gods! How long since he’d slept with a woman? Longer than he cared to consider. He’d remedy that lack when he returned, but he must not waste time now.
Gently, he dislodged her hand and flicked the reins. "Must be gone now. I bid you good day."
She squeezed his hand and stepped back. "I’ll see you when you return."
"Aye." He rode on, the horse’s hooves clattering on the hard ground, reaching the southern end of the village, where rows of short oak saplings lined this road and all others leading into Lochlann, the trees recently planted to honor Dania, goddess of trees.
Thatched cottages with their small gardens edged the village, and beyond the few mansions stretched vast farms, where cattle grazed the meadows and sheep dotted the land. This was rich farmland that fed Lochlann and surrounding villages.
Weylyn continued south, breathing in the cool air, the horse’s muscles bunching beneath him as he increased his pace to a gallop. He came to the main dirt road, wider than those of the village that branched out in all directions. Pausing at the crossroads, he thought about Briana, and indeed, she had never left his mind. Ah, Briana, my dear one, why must I be the one to fetch you? He considered it unlikely that she headed south. With a flick of the reins and the pressure of his thighs, he turned the horse west.
* * * *
A few days into her trip, Briana trudged up the steep, rocky hill, following the path she knew so well, one she had often hiked with Weylyn Quinn. Weylyn, she lamented, what had made him decide to become an enforcer? Memories of a younger Weylyn grappled with images of him now. Once she had wondered if there might be a certain tenderness--dared she call it love?--between them. But not now. A cold lump settled in her stomach, an emptiness, the realization that she could never return to the past. Best that she put the past behind her and start a new life in Magh Mell. Surely her mother and father viewed her from their place in the Otherworld, even if she could not communicate with them. She wanted to make them proud of her, wanted to make something of herself, and who knew? Perhaps someday they could return to this earth, if only for a short visit, and she would tell them how much she missed them.
Carrying a basket and satchel made walking difficult. Whenever Enid made this journey, Briana mused, she must have ridden a horse. Enid had thoughtfully packed a couple of linen napkins in the basket, and Briana wrapped the bread and cheese in the napkins, then transferred all her food into the satchel. She hated to leave the basket behind, but this made her trek much easier.
Shortly after the start of her journey, she had passed a sacred circle of stones within the forest and had prayed to the gods to take care of her parents. ‘Twas said that the circle of stones granted protection from all evil beings, if one gained the center of it. ‘Twas also said that within the circle lay a portal that led to the fairy realm and she smiled now at the fanciful thought.
A lavender glow lit the eastern horizon, the last of the stars disappearing from the sky. Up before daybreak, she needed to rest and eat breakfast. Even though she was no stranger to hiking, still her body ached, every muscle from her back to her hips and thighs, on down to her knees and feet. The path followed a stream through the woods, and she found a clear space where she could rest her weary legs. The fragrance of pines scented the air, driven by a northerly wind. Drawing her cloak tighter around her, she knelt by the stream and scooped up handfuls of the fresh, clean water. Ah, that water tasted delicious, as she imagined the finest wine must taste. She sat down on the hard ground and reached into her basket for a slice of bread and an apple. She savored the sweet, juicy flavor of the fruit, aware she must make this food last her until she reached Magh Mell. And once she reached that city, then what? She must find employment, for the silver Enid gave her wouldn’t last forever. Enid. Briana sighed, missing her foster mother, an ache in her heart. Would she ever see her again?
Chewing the last of the apple, she returned to the problem of employment. Doubts buffeted her, but she struggled to throw off her misgivings, resolved to think positively and never lose confidence that she could obtain a position, perhaps as a scriber, like her father. He had given her a good education, and if she couldn’t work in that manner, possibly someone would hire her as a governess. She took the last bite of bread, and finished with her repast, rinsed her hands in the stream and drank more water. If she had to, she thought, as she returned to the problem of employment, she could surely find a job as a maid or a cook, although neither job held an appeal for her.
She stood and brushed pine needles from the back of her cloak. Retrieving her satchel and basket, she continued along the narrow path, the hard dirt studded with shale and limestone and thick with tree roots. For reasons she couldn’t define, she thought about Regan Mulhoney, surely the most beautiful woman in the village but one she found difficult to like. There was something different about her, something sneaky. Enid had often suggested that the woman practiced evil witchcraft--indeed, others had said the same--but no one had ever found any real proof against the woman. No matter what her feelings about Regan, Briana would never wish any harm to come to her and dreaded the possibility that Regan might suffer in her place. Had she made the right decision? she wondered as she clambered up the rocky path, stepping over tree roots and shoving aside bare branches. Should she return to the village and accept the fate the druids had decreed for her? But such a decision would break Enid’s heart, and if Regan was really as evil as others suspected, she deserved death by stabbing.
Deep in thought, not looking where she was going, she tripped over a thick tree root and sprawled to the hard ground. Her bare hands hit the cold, rocky ground, all the air knocked from her. More than that, her ankle throbbed with pain. She bit hard on her lower lip to keep from crying. Tears brimmed her eyes, and she lay in silent misery, afraid to get up, to put weight on her foot. Bracing herself on the ground, she tried to rise, but her ankle ached too much, already beginning to
swell. She fought back tears and felt her ankle for broken bones. Finding none, she struggled one more time to get up. Gods, no! Wracked with pain, she pressed her hand to her face, too discouraged to think. She saw her hands were bleeding, and she rubbed them absently on her dress.
How long would her sprained ankle detain her? She must continue on her journey, lest Samhain eve find her alone in the forest. She held her head in her hands, afraid to think about that holy day, when the warrior dead came back to life, and demons screamed and howled from their dark hiding places. Nothing to do but stay here to rest and pray that she would feel better tomorrow.
The hours passed, the sun arcing across the sky, the cold wind increasing, bending bare tree branches. Still, she couldn’t move, could only sit in depression as her hunger returned. She spied her satchel several feet away, its contents scattered, and leaned over to reach it. Rummaging through the satchel, she found a piece of cheese and dried meat, along with another slice of bread. These must last her until tomorrow. Darkness fell, and she lay back to spend another night in the forest, this time submerged in despondency, and doubting she could go on when a new day came.
After a restless night, when she continually changed position and shivered in the frosty air, she awoke to a new day, the sky cloudy with the threat of imminent rain. She sat up and stretched her arms, but when she tried to rise, she found her ankle no better. She had to reach Magh Mell before Samhain, had to discover refuge--
"I knew I’d find you. Only a matter of time."
PART II: Capture
Gasping, Briana pressed her hand to her heart. Weylyn Quinn, one of the enforcers! A friend from years past, but what did he think of her now? Surely not as a friend, but as a fugitive from the druids. But wait! Why would the druids suspect her of fleeing? If one of the enforcers had gone to Enid, certainly her foster mother had told him she’d headed for Greeb Point to visit relatives. But apparently the druids hadn’t believed her story.