The Spellbinder: Highland Eyes
Page 26
"Last I looked, my eyes were silver,” she remarked.
Merlin went on to explain. “Very soon, you will come into your full power. You have already sampled a small taste of it. You will become the Legend, the most powerful sorceress ever known. Your magic will surpass even my own—and I have had no small reputation. The pendant you wear was, indeed, given to you by your mother. In there, is the combined magic of Nimue and myself."
Meryl gasped. “Why me? Why didn't you keep it for yourself?"
"Nimue believed she could be the one to stand where you are about to go. It was never for her to be there. In a small way, she did it for herself."
"If you're not really here, then how did you appear in London? I stayed in your home for a few days, while you played my tutor."
Merlin chuckled. “Illusion. You expected to see an old man of flesh and blood, so that is what you saw. This last year, you have been drawing on the power within you. Until I touched your pendant, it was useless to you as a talisman. Its power is still rather weak at the moment, but that will change shortly."
"But Tristan...” Meryl's confusion was evident. If this old man awakened power in her pendent, what had Tris done when he first touched it? He'd cast a warmth to the silver, that day on the beach.
"The pendant recognized him as your chosen, but the final decision of your mate is yours to make.” Merlin held up a hand to stop her questions. Her answers would be evident at the appropriate time. “Be careful, Meryl; there is one other who knows the secret of the pendant and will stop at nothing to gain it."
The old man's image wavered. “When the people are ready to accept you, you will become their leader. These people need something to believe in. You will practice the old ways and one day, your magic will know no opposition. It will take many years, if ever, to use it wisely and become what they need. Your mate will be granted certain powers, though they will be limited."
"Clan MacEmrys is prepared to serve her well,” Maisri added, bowing her head in respect.
Merlin's bushy white eyebrows shot up in question. “Clan MacEmrys, is it?” He chuckled. How had he missed that tidbit of information? “I find I must thank you for what you did during your last journey. If you had not sent Leander and Flavia away, you and I would never be.” The wizard's image appeared to study Meryl for a moment, then shimmered. As it slowly faded, one last bit of advice was offered. “You bear my name, child. Use caution and learn wisdom. Power used unwisely is always destructive.” He hesitated a moment. “Be happy, daughter.” Merlin was gone.
Meryl turned to the older woman again, angry at what she perceived to be Maisri's betrayal. “You knew who I was. You could have told me everything and saved us all a lot of grief."
"I had to be sure of your identity before saying anything,” Maisri explained in defense of her decision to remain silent. “There was no way to change your future, Lady Meryl. What happened to you was meant to be. As the Master told you, there are still enemies to contend with. It was better they didn't know of your existence until you gained your inheritance."
Meryl stared at the woman, frustrated. “It's apparent someone does know, or all the troubles of the past year would not have happened. All those hints in front of me and I never caught on to any of them. I know I'm slow on the uptake sometimes, but this is ridiculous. I should have recognized and pieced together everything that was going on."
"It's difficult to do when you don't know what you are looking at. There was no way you could have known. You had to learn about it slowly and not attract attention to yourself,” Maisri explained.
Meryl laughed at that observation. Everything, good and bad, pointed to her. She wished it hadn't. She'd be happier to remain anonymous; it wasn't to be.
The glittering colors shimmering in the center of the circle disappeared and the cloud moved on. “Now you know your destiny, Meryl. Your father told you enough to set you on your path. The rest you must learn for yourself.” Maisri's mood lightened and she took Meryl's arm. “Come. We should return to the keep. As you said, there are still things to be done before the feast."
* * * *
The afternoon passed slowly. Meryl restlessly paced her chamber, while Dinks sat in the middle of her bed, quietly watching her. “Seems we have changed places, my pet. You're always the one pacing about. My patience is lacking today. This is not a time to be impatient."
Meryl stood before the open window and stared out toward the mountain. Her hands remained clasped behind her back. She glanced down and her gaze settled on a familiar looking chest pushed up against the wall. She recognized it as being the same one that was in Tristan's hut in the old village. How had it arrived here without her knowledge? She knelt before it and lightly grazed her hand across the worn lid. Each dent and scratch surely had its own story. Something within the chest called to her. From the first time she'd seen it, she believed it belonged to Tristan, but if that were the case, what was it doing here in her bedchamber? Ever since Tristan had returned the pendant, he'd removed his few belongings from their room and avoided her company. She realized now, he had only been the keeper of the chest. Meryl was reluctant to peek inside, but intuition told her it was time to discover what secrets lay within.
She slowly raised the lid, afraid to see what new secrets might be hidden. She pushed back the lid until it leaned against the wall. Two silver armbands lay on top of sheets of carefully folded parchment. Each band had intricate Celtic designs etched into the metal, symbols representing the goddess. Meryl could contain her curiosity no longer. She withdrew the sheets and carefully unfolded them. A female voice she had frequently heard in her head spoke the words as if they had been memorized. Meryl followed the delicate handwriting.
"My darling Meryl,
If you are reading this, then the time has come for you to take your rightful place in the Highlands. So much time has passed, I don't know where to begin. I'm sure you have many questions and I shall try to answer them as best I can. Shortly after your birth, your father and I had no choice but to send you away. We sent you to the distant future to a family whom we hoped would be able to protect you with their innocence. They never knew who you were, or why they were chosen to care for you. Your were reared to know what power could do, despite the fact you had none. To keep you safe from our enemies, we had to be sure you could never cast a spell, thereby drawing attention to yourself. For, once you cast a spell, the power within you would continue to grow and our enemies would easily find and destroy you. We could not let that happen.
So many years my arms ached to hold my daughter, to love and comfort her, but I could not. How I longed to be there with you, to help you through the difficult years of growing up. But it was not to be. All I could do was watch from a distance and hope you would one day understand and forgive the decision your father and I were forced to make. You have become a beautiful young woman in form and spirit, a daughter to be proud of.
Shortly, you will step onto the road of your destiny. You must understand, what awaits you is not what humans have come to believe. In the passage of time, the tale of the Legend has become more than what it is meant to be. Sending you where we did, has given you the advantage of a few lessons. What is the future to the people you lead, is your past; you know it cannot be changed. Your purpose is to wield the power of the greatest magician ever known and keep the old ways alive. As your father has told you, you hold the combined power of both your parents. The source will always remain with me for safekeeping, though you will be able to draw from it whenever necessary. Through my own folly, I cannot use the power myself; I can only hold it safe for you.
You must always remain aware, for your enemies will be many. They will try to wrest away your inheritance by any means possible. In times of doubt, let Maisri's wisdom guide you.
Be well, my precious daughter, and know we always have and always will be with you. Love your chosen mate as I love your father. May you always be blessed.
Your loving mother,
&nb
sp; Nimue
Meryl's eyes closed as the voice faded from her mind. Teardrops glistened on her dark lashes before sliding down her cheeks and dropping onto the parchment. She clutched the folded sheets to her and began to laugh with joy. How good it felt to know she hadn't been abandoned, after all, and she would never be alone. Meryl dashed the tears from her face when she heard a noise. She didn't want to explain anything just now. What she was feeling, she wanted to savor alone, at least for a little while.
The bedchamber door opened and Maisri and Rose quietly entered. Maisri silently walked across the room, stepped beside her kneeling mistress and reached into the chest to remove the snow white garment.
"I see you found the letter from your mother. Does she explain all to your satisfaction?"
"She does, Maisri, and my heart is so much lighter with the understanding of why."
"You know the secret of your past. I have waited patiently for your arrival, to complete your training. Now it's time to claim your rightful place. Rose will serve you, as I have served your parents."
Rose stood silent, wide eyed at the pronouncement for her own future. Never in her wildest dreams had she thought she would be chosen to serve the Legend.
"Yes, it's time, isn't it. Time I faced my future.” Meryl rose and approached the older woman, then hugged her. “Thank you, Maisri, for all you have done to help get me here. I'll need your wisdom in the future, as well, to help guide me."
"As to Rose...” Meryl turned to the young girl, giving her a stern look.
"Oh, Lady Meryl,” Rose whispered as she dipped into a quick curtsey. “I am so sorry for all the terrible things I did to you. I'm ashamed to admit I was jealous of Tristan's affection for you."
"Had our places been reversed, I most likely would have felt the same,” Meryl admitted, gently. Rose's apology pleased her. Her ability to put aside her pride allowed the way for a new trust and friendship to be forged. “Perhaps we can begin again, Rose."
"Oh yes! I'll do my best to please you in all things.” Rose's dark eyes sparkled with happiness.
"I know you will. What say we prepare for the evening's events. The sun will be setting soon and everyone is waiting impatiently."
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
Tristan dried himself off and dropped the cloth beside the basin of water. A cooling swim in the loch would have been welcome, but there were too many people around. The daylight had almost gone while he dressed in breeches and lawn shirt. Famhair lay on the floor beside Tristan's palette, his head resting on his paws. Only his eyes followed his master's movements about the small chamber. Tristan sat on a stool and stared a moment, up at the single window. Earlier, Dinks had been up to his usual mischief, for Tristan had found a dead mouse in one of his boots. He didn't know if he was disgusted with the action or amused. He checked his boots again before pulling them on, then sheathed his dirk in his belt. His thoughts wandered back to morning, when he saw Meryl and Matthew together. As much as he hated to admit it to himself, his time at Dun Ceathach was nearing its end.
Female voices floated past his door, someone laughed, then they moved away and their voices faded. The time of choices and decisions had finally arrived. Tristan railed at himself for not speaking to Meryl earlier. As the Legend, she no long had need of him. She would fulfill her destiny and be powerful in her own right. When she was granted her inheritance, whatever it might be, he would step away. Tonight he intended to leave Dun Ceathach for good. He knew he couldn't be near Meryl and not want her. The time of denying his feelings was long past.
He moved to the window and watched the procession of white robed women climb the steep path up the hillside in the near darkness. Beyond the path lay a sacred place known only to them. Three torches lit the way while a fourth woman carried a basket containing items necessary for their rituals. Tristan watched them until they disappeared around a bend in the path. They would be gone a while. At the foot of the path, a familiar black shape stretched out to wait. Tristan chuckled. Dinks didn't look very happy about being left behind.
"I know how you feel, my friend.” The cat turned its head and looked toward the keep, as if he had heard Tristan's words. The warrior and the cat had finally reached a truce.
Clouds hung over the mountains, heavy with rain. Tristan watched lightning bolts light up the edge of the clouds, outlining them against the black sky. Heat lightning, he thought when no crackling followed. The full moon showed briefly while more clouds scurried past. A strong storm was brewing, promising to spoil the highlanders’ celebrations before the evening was over. If they were fortunate, it would blow itself out before reaching the valley.
Two rows of torches lined the field. Their flames danced on the light wind coming up from the mountains. Sparks soared upward like so many fireflies, then disappear against the night sky. Tristan watched two warriors take their places at one end of the field not far from the tables. The men prepared to play a tune while several children scampered about them. In no time, the skirl of bagpipes filled the air and adults gathered to enjoy some dancing.
They were happy tonight and had every reason to celebrate. Their first harvest proved to be a bountiful one, despite the loss of one of the fields. They believed the land to be a mystical place, filled with promises for the future. Meryl led them here and, except for Graeme's interference, everything had gone well for the villagers. Tristan often wondered, but still had no idea how she knew about this valley.
Tristan suddenly realized how hungry he was and pushed away from the wall. Just as quickly, he forgot about his appetite when he caught sight of flickering torches descending the mountain path. The procession of white clad women moved slowly and carefully along the steep way.
Tristan hurried down through the keep to wait their arrival. He had no idea what Meryl went through up there and could only guess at what her actions might be once she joined the villagers. How would her experience in that secret place change her? If she had been accepted as the legend then she had no further need of his protection. He hurried down to the meadow just outside the keep wall, where the villagers gathered and spoke in low voices. Word passed quickly from one person to the next and they continued to glance toward the mountain path. The women were returning and something had happened up on the mountain.
Maisri passed Tristan first and glanced briefly at the warrior, saying nothing. Meryl continued to look straight ahead and remained silent as well, as if he no longer existed. Tristan's heart dropped. It was true. She no longer needed him. He watched her take her place in the center of the field while the other women formed a semi circle behind her. She stood as regal as any queen.
Tristan thought she looked beautiful tonight. No, ethereal was a better word to describe what he saw. Two narrow braids were tied back to hold her long hair in place. Purple heather intertwined with white daisies to form the flower crown. Her pendant was once again whole. Meryl's robe clung to her slim figure. Something about her had changed. He watched her gaze travel from one person to another, and still she said nothing. Her eyes were lighter, or was it the torchlight making them seem that way?
The wind picked up and the air crackled with lightning. Rain began to fall steadily and one by one the torches quickly went out. Meryl stamped her foot like a child with a tantrum.
"I told you not to rain on my parade,” she called out petulantly.
Tristan grinned briefly. Leave it to Meryl to break the tension, even if the villagers didn't always understand her. This was the last time he would see her put the people at ease. He couldn't stay here and not share his life with her.
Meryl turned her face upward and raised her arms. The sleeves of the white robe fell back and a flash of lightning reflected off her silver armbands. Their Celtic design clearly belonged to the Lady. Her voice carried through the building storm.
Storm away, stars appear;
Night of magic, Moon shine clear.
Clouds begone! Let all be right
To celebrate this Lammas night.
Matthew stepped forward, and stood before the women in white. He nodded to Maisri, then bowed to Meryl. “No one can dispute that you are, indeed, the Legend. I only wish we could have worked together to bring a truce between our two countries."
Meryl's smile was unusually shy and her eyes shone with an eerie glow. “This will take a bit of getting used to,” she remarked. “As to the other matter, one day we may indeed see peace between us."
"It's time I take my leave of you and your clan. Thank you for your generous hospitality, Lady Meryl. If I may, I would like to return, when I can visit for a while and get to know you all better.” He glanced about at the white robed women surrounding Meryl until his eyes rested briefly on Rose. He chuckled when she returned his gaze with a disdainful look of her own.
"You are welcome here, Matthew, as long as you come alone. We prefer our whereabouts to be kept quiet."
Matthew made another courtly bow, accepting Meryl's conditions. The change in her eyes still surprised him, and for a brief moment, he wondered what sort of trickery was involved. He shook his head with wonder. “Until we meet again, my lady. May you and your people find peace and contentment here.” Matthew turned and walked away, to where Malcolm held his horse. He mounted up, then nodded to Meryl and rode out of the valley.