by J. M. Hofer
Bran raised his hand for silence. “Sisters of the West, Brothers of the East, we’re grateful you’ve come to aid us in our time of need. In the past, a visit to our village has meant the beating of drums, dancing around bonfires and chariot races, but unfortunately we’ve joined together for a much graver purpose. Seren has taken my mother’s place as priestess of our clan, and our council has chosen me as chieftain. Sadly, we’ve come to be called by these names far too soon. We hope to earn your respect and trust, as the Lady Agarah and Lord Cadoc earned it before us.”
The crowd shouted their approval.
“I’ve been to see Talhaiarn at the Crossroads, and there found the other chieftains of the Great Circle. Their villages were attacked as well. Talhaiarn went to Lady Rowan to discuss the matter, and Lady Elayn has brought us news from the Isle.” He looked toward Elayn. “Lady Elayn, if you would?”
Elayn went to the front of the crowd. “Clan-brothers and sisters, as many of you know, Sister Cerridwen took the Cauldron from the Isle some years ago, and she and her son Morvran have not been seen since. There have been rumors for years about what might have happened to them. Some believed they sought out a life across the sea—others were convinced they had perished—but we believe that neither of these rumors is true. We are convinced Cerridwen has returned, and that she is using the Cauldron to create an army from the corpses that litter our war-torn countryside. We believe these resurrected men were what attacked Lady Agarah and your great chieftain, Cadoc, as well as the other clans, feeding upon their livestock, women and children.”
Mouths gaped, followed by ripples of murmuring spread through the crowd. Bran and Seren looked equally shocked. Everyone but Lucia and her party stared at Elayn as if she had branches growing out of her head, but she remained as cool as the air around them.
Lucia leaned toward Creirwy and whispered, “I certainly didn’t believe it when I first heard it.”
“Well, I’m sure you do now.”
Lucia felt a dreadful chill as she recalled the milky eyes of the half-man who had stalked them.
Bran broke the heavy silence. “Are you telling us she can bring back the dead?”
Elayn nodded emphatically. “I am. We saw one of them last night.” She looked toward them for validation, and they all voiced their agreement. “I swear to you, I speak the truth.”
Cries of outrage burst from the crowd as they considered what Elayn had said. “We must hunt her down!” someone cried. “No, this cannot be!” another argued, “You’re a bunch of fools! No one can raise the dead!”
The arguments shot back and forth until Bran raised his hand and bellowed, “Silence!” He stepped forward, towering over Elayn. “Thank you, Lady Elayn.” She gave him a respectful nod and returned to her daughter’s side. Bran yelled out, “We’ll speak more of this tomorrow, but for tonight, the time for talk is over!” The crowd quieted down. “This is the news the Sisters have brought us, as disturbing or unbelievable as it may be. Time will tell. We must assume Cerridwen’s army of—“ he stopped for a moment, obviously wondering what he should call them, “cauldron-born is coming this way. They’ll expect to find our clan weak after her cowardly worms murdered our chieftain and priestess, but she doesn’t know the courage of the people of the South, nor what fierce warriors have come to aid them in their hour of need!”
He hoisted Dyrnwyn high, inciting the crowd into furious battle cries. He then motioned to acknowledge a slender man on his left. “The great and noble Belenus has graciously sent us his son, Lord Neirin, and a company of scouts from the East to track the enemy,” he added, “and let us not forget, we are all blessed to have the healing skills of the Sisters of the Isle among us.”
He looked toward Lucia and the Sisters, and Lucia’s stomach dropped as his eyes fell on her. His expression changed and he squinted in her direction. She was overcome with embarrassment and looked at the ground until she heard him begin speaking again. “Sisters, we’re honored you’ve come. We know what it means for you to be here, and it won’t be forgotten.”
“Yes, bless you, Sisters!” the crowd called out in gratitude, even though some of them had been skeptical of the news they had brought.
“Now, organize the watch,” Bran announced.
Several men rushed up to Bran, eager for his counsel, but he allowed Elayn to approach him first. After speaking with her, the two of them came toward where Lucia and the Sisters were gathered.
Lucia felt like a fool. Her heart was beating like a rabbit as she tried to think of what she would say if Bran noticed her. How can I possibly explain why I’m here? She took a few steps back behind the others and hid her face in the darkness of her hood.
She peeked out just enough that she could still see him. “Sisters,” he began, “we’ll post you along the riverbanks tonight where you can call upon your Guardians should you need to.“ He glanced her way again and hesitated a moment, setting her heart racing.
Aelhaearn approached, distracting him. She could not hear what he was saying, but it was clearly important. Bran nodded and turned back to them. “Thank you again for coming to our aid. Lord Aelhaearn is here to tell you what to do.”
He glanced her way one last time, and then turned and left.
Aelhaearn called over some twenty men, a few of them clearly not from the Southern clan. The Southerners were muscular and strong, most of them dark-haired, with the exception of Bran and a few others, like his sister, who were blonde. The men from the East reminded Lucia of birch saplings, like the man who stood next to Bran—Lord Neirin, was it?—thin and tall, with fine features and lighter complexions. They wore simple clothing and very little ornaments, unlike the Southerners who loved bright colors and thick bronze neck torcs, rings and cuffs—and the more of them the better, it seemed.
“I’ve been charged to oversee you and your party, my lady,” Aelhaearn said to Elayn. “We’ll make for the river. You and your kinswomen will be posted along the banks. The men and I will be seeking out the enemy in the forest on the other side of the river.”
“A wise place for us to be,” Elayn answered for all of them. Her daughter, whom Lucia had not yet met, was still with them and walked alongside her mother. She looked to be about fifteen years of age. No doubt Elayn would not let her out of her sight after the scare she had experienced earlier. She’s most certainly her mother’s daughter. Lucia smiled. Both of them had such big, brown eyes.
“Let’s move, then,” Aelhaearn concluded. He peered suspiciously at Lucia, making her feel even more out of place. Ugh. I can’t stand that man! She fought the impulse to tell him so. She had never tolerated being disrespected by anyone.
The Sisters were soon rushing against the setting of the sun on horseback, following Aelhaearn and some of the thin men who had taken the lead. Lucia rode behind the twins, who were obviously having a private conversation within their heads, giving each other repeated looks of “Yes, I agree,” or, “I’m not certain.”
They eventually reached a place along the river with a grove of very high trees on its banks.
“I’ll leave you to decide among yourselves how to defend the riverbanks,” Aelhaearn said to Elayn, dismounting. “Archers will be watching from the trees. Should the enemy approach, they’ll shoot as many as they can from their perch and signal the rest of us. Hopefully none will reach the river—but, should any succeed, they’ll have to deal with me and my men. If, gods forbid, any make it past us, you’ll of course have the protection of the river and your weapons. The other Sisters have similar orders. There’s no land around the village that will go unwatched tonight.”
“Understood, my lord,” Elayn said.
Aelhaearn nodded in farewell, and he and his men went to assume their posts.
Elayn turned to Ina and Ivy. “Take opposite ends up and downstream.”
The telepathic advantages of having them on opposite flanks were obvious.
“The rest of you, choose a place in between, and have your bow ready at all ti
mes. Do not make the mistake of underestimating Cerridwen—you know as well as I do how well the magic of the Isle can beguile even the fiercest of warriors—if men are all who stand between us and her, we are still in danger.”
Creirwy smirked. “We can be wily bitches, can’t we?”
The girls giggled, grateful for some humor. Even Elayn could not resist the temptation to crack a smile and shook her head. “We can.”
They embraced each other and then went off to choose their posts. It seemed Lucia was the only one who did not know what to do. She began to follow Creirwy, but Elayn reached out and took her hand. “Lucia, do you know why the daughters have been given the task of defending the riverbanks? I want you to understand the deep relationship the Daughters of the Isle have with water—one that you have as well—one that you can call upon in times of need.”
Lucia was intrigued. “Go on.”
“Swimming comes easily to you, does it not? Drowning seems impossible?”
How does she know that? Lucia had never been fearful of water. She had been swimming for as long as she could remember. In fact, she could not remember ever learning to swim—she had always just known how. Her mother had called her “my little seal.”
“Yes,” she answered. “It’s like breathing for me.”
Elayn nodded. “This is because it is virtually impossible for a Daughter of the Isle to drown. Knowledge of water runs deep in your blood—it is your birthright.”
“What exactly do you mean when you say call upon the water? Are you referring to an invocation of some sort?”
“No, not an invocation.” Elayn shook her head. “Names and words are weak webs we weave, trying to capture things. In truth, we, like all things, are like the sky, or the sea—the true world is beyond words. Invocations have their place, because they help to focus the mind, but they can also be limiting—like trying to capture running water in a bucket. Do you understand?”
I do, actually. Lucia nodded. “Yes.”
“When you name something, or tie it up in words, you limit its glory and power. This is not what I want you to do. What I speak of is something you clearly already know how to do, but I’m not sure you know you can choose to do it. You can call upon the water any time you’re near it, not just when you are swimming. If you concentrate on becoming one with the water, and allow it to become one with you, you can fill it with your intent or desire and it can become a powerful ally. This may come instinctively to you, most especially in times of peril. Remember you have this ability, and use it when the time comes.”
“I will.”
Elayn gave her a reassuring look and then walked off following the river’s edge.
She’s wise—like Aveta. Lucia wondered how much of the Sisters’ wisdom her mother had, but could not—or chose not—to share with her. Living in a Roman Christian household, Lucia knew her mother could never teach her to call upon the water, or embrace her visions, or unlock the power of herbs and flowers for healing as the Sisters had taught her—these things were considered witchcraft, and her mother, though she did not condemn them, wisely kept them a secret. Then again, perhaps she had not lived on the Isle long enough to have learned its ways. How wonderful, though, to have known them at Llygoden or Creirwy’s age!
She thought of the swimming races she and the other children in the village used to have in the lake. She would win every time. Her mother took her aside one day and said, “You must pretend to tire when the other children do. And don’t stay underwater too long…” Then, there was the constant reminder never to share her visions with anyone—“Tell no one but me, Lucia. Do you understand? People fear things they don’t understand, and they’ll seek to destroy them so they can feel safe again.”
Instead of inciting fear in others, Lucia grew up a fearful and somewhat angry herself, burdened with her many secrets. She looked up into the sky. The first stars were coming into view. She took a deep breath and let out a heavy sigh. I know you just wanted to protect me, Mother. She bent down by the river’s edge, and watched it flow, wondering if she could do what Elayn had described.
The sun set, and she considered climbing one of the trees and watching the opposite riverbank from there, but decided the best place to “call upon the water” would be as near to it as possible. She scouted out a clump of thick brush which hung over the edge of the river, and she cut away enough branches for her to stand within it. From there, she had a clear view of the riverbank on the other side, and a good hiding place from which to shoot her bow. As the darkness encroached, her heart began to race. She could not help but think of those horrible eyes she had seen a few nights ago. Stop it, Lucia! Remember, you’re a good shot with a bow, there’s no doubt about that, and you saw those eyes from a good way off. If you see them again, just put a damn arrow between them!
For the first few hours, she watched her surroundings intently, not missing one movement of a bird, rodent, or splash in the river. The hours passed slowly, however, making it very difficult for her to stay alert in spite of the rushes of adrenalin she experienced every time a creature so much as twitched its tail within her line of sight. Fatigue slowly settled into every muscle and bone, her eyes grew sore, and lids heavy. The day had been long, and she had not slept at all the night before, due to their unexpected visitor. She kept the memory of it within her mind’s eye, in the hope that it would keep her awake.
Time dragged on, and every muscle in her body ached, crying out for sleep. She felt her head drop forward a few times, and then gratefully remembered something Aveta had given her to stave off sleep. She opened her pouch and was relieved to see they were still there—mugwort leaves. She put them in her mouth and chewed them, expecting the worst, but found they were only slightly unpleasant. There had been many other things Aveta had given her that were far worse. She smiled thinking back on some of the potions Aveta had made her gag down over the years. One thing was for certain, though—it was always worth it, because they always worked. She expected no less from the wad of bitter leaves in her mouth.
Another few hours passed without incident. Lucia could not control her shivering, no matter how tightly she pulled her cloak around her. She could no longer feel her fingers or toes. So cold. What if I can’t pull my bowstring when the time comes?
Eventually, her need to move overpowered her misgivings. She left her hiding place to stretch her limbs and splash river water on her face. She was there to fight, after all. Waiting had always been the worst thing in the world for her—patience was decidedly not one of her virtues.
Her hands were now completely numb, frozen by the river. In desperation, she relieved herself on them, and the heat far outweighed any squeamishness about uncleanliness. She dried them on the edge of her cloak and rubbed them together vigorously until she could feel them again. It was not long before the cold encroached again, however, digging its long, sharp fingers deep into the marrow of her bones. Her teeth chattered so loudly, she feared they would give her away to the enemy. She stared at the ground beneath her feet, rocking back and forth, trying to ignore her body’s cries for warmth and sleep, when to her horror, a hand burst out of the ground and reached for her. She let out a squeal and scrambled away, but then realized there was nothing there. She panted with fear and rubbed her eyes, returning to the spot the hand had appeared. The ground was undisturbed. What’s happening to me?
“Lucia,” a voice whispered.
What the hell? She grabbed her dagger and jumped to her feet, her eyes darting back and forth, but she saw no one. She heard nothing but the sound of the river flowing. A wave of nausea hit her.
Just when her heartbeat had begun to return to normal, she was scared nearly to death by a man who looked like her late husband—he was standing in the river up to his thighs, just a few feet away, reaching his hand out to her. She stifled a scream.
”Lucia, I’m coming for you,” he said, moving toward her.
Is this one of Cerridwen’s tricks? She remembered what Elayn had said ea
rlier. She focused every bit of energy she still possessed into the water, willing the river to rise up and carry him away.
To her relief, misty tendrils floated up out of the river at her command, swirling around him, pulling him down into the current. He fought against them, trying desperately trying to tell her something. ”Lucia, I am coming for you, but you must refuse me.”
She ignored his words, and poured all of her effort into sending him away, until at last he turned into mist and disappeared.
She fell to the ground, drained of her strength. The sky was beginning to turn from black to purple. Thank the gods…I can rest now. She curled up, sleep rushing to engulf her in its merciful arms.
Some time later she heard Elayn calling, but could not answer. She heard footsteps splashing across the river, and voices laced with concern, and then—nothing at all.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
A Warning
Aelhaearn wondered about the woman he was carrying. How did she come to be among the Sisters?
“She seemed quite well when we set out,” Elayn said, interrupting his thoughts.
“Well, she’s quite unwell now,” he replied irritably as they came upon his hut.
After the misfortune of burning his previous house down many years ago, Aelhaearn chose wisely to re-build his new one out of slate. He liked his privacy, so built it away from the village. Unfortunately for him, it also meant that now, his house was the closest place to take Lucia.
He carried her through his door and dumped her on a pile of animal skins, and then threw wood in the fire pit. He hovered his hands above the logs and within seconds they were ablaze. He then took three large stones and laid them in the flames while Elayn took the woman’s boots off and covered her with her cloak.
Elayn took his cooking pot from its hook over the fire and handed it to one of the girls. “Ina, Ivy – please go to Seren and ask for a cup of mead for Lucia and something to fill this pot that we may eat. If there is no meat, get us a bird or a rabbit.”