“Of course, my lord” Caleigh said walking into step with the very slight hobble of the Earl. “What may I ask did your lordship wish to talk about?”
“Oh, nothing in particular, it is the talking rather than the subject that interests me. You intrigue me, Caleigh, as I was warned you might.” A smile bristled from under his blonde moustache as if he were remembering a joke someone had told him. “How do you find life in Connlad? Do you ever feel unsatisfied or yearning for more?”
Not knowing how else to respond to this comment Caleigh answered honestly. “My lord, if you had asked me this but a week ago I should have said no but now perhaps yes, if only a little. Please, I do not wish to say that I am unhappy or that I am not grateful for the kindness Sir Marc and Dame Edith have shown me. It is simply that the world seems to me bigger than I had imagined until recently.”
“Such is the nature of growing into adulthood. It is only natural that you should start to look beyond that which you have known until now.” The Earl said sagely while keeping the smile upon his face. It occurred to Caleigh in this moment that Cynric might be knowledgeable about much that was unknown to the people of Connlad.
“My lord, do you know much of the old shrine near to here?”
“Do you mean the Shrine of Lost Souls?”
“Yes, my lord. I have been thinking about it of late and I realised that I know very little about it. I know not even which god it is dedicated to?”
“It is one of three shrines of the White Lady. Were you ever told the tales of Albion as a child?”
“I was told of how once there was a great king but I do not recall the tale in full.”
“Ah, that is a loss. It is a good tale and deserved to be heard. I shall not recount it in whole to you now, though I may at a later time if it is your wish. I will tell you of your shrine, however. The Shrine of Lost Souls has been around for a long time, I believe it was there long before the Senatian Empire reached these lands though not as long as the great henges. It was where nearly one hundred-and-fifty years ago that Caerddyn went after first seeing the white lady and where twenty years later he first met Albion, after he had been sent thither by the White Lady himself.”
“Why was he sent thus?”
“Ah, that is hard to say without telling the story in full. May be I can begin it for you, if you would care to hear it.”
“Yes, my lord, I should like that very much.” Caleigh answered to Cynric’s ill-disguised delight.
“You know, of course, that Albion was born of these parts only a small distance to the south?”
“Yes, but beyond that I know little. My lord, I am sure that your telling of the tale is much more complete than that which I heard as a child.” Caleigh said with enough genuine enthusiasm not to sound falsely flattering.
“Perhaps…very well, Albion was the son of Longris, lord of the southern tip of what is now Sommerwald. Longris, like all nobles of the time was a client of the Senatian Empire and had to give service the Emperor and his governor, Lucentanius, in Lakehaven. So when Albion was barely entering manhood, maybe the age you are now, he was sent away to train in the Empire’s army. He was soon posted to the eastern frontier many distant miles from his homeland to fight against enemies who would never come close to setting foot on the soil he grew up on. For five years he battled in the east and in that time became famed for his prowess on the field. The easterners had used horsemen to great effect against the armies of the Empire for some time. Albion learned from them and learned to use their tactics against them and his force of men soon became the best and most feared cavalry of all the legions.
Upon his sixth year in the east the Senatian Empire was attacked at its heart and for a time its rule was disrupted. In the absence of orders from the capital, Albion listened to Lucentanius’ call to return home. With him went a number of men who were not native to these western lands but did not wish to part from their commander. When he reached Lakehaven Albion was quick to realise Lucentanius had recalled them to save him from the results of his treachery and hearing of his father’s death returned to his home to protect his people from the trouble that had engulfed all parts.”
“What was Lucentanius’ treachery?”
“With so much of the Empire’s army being concerned with protecting its long border to the east there was little left for the protection of what was considered a stable northern province. The Danarians of the west and all the woad-wearing tribes of the north who had always opposed the Empire realised this and attacked without mercy. Knowing he could not call on legions Lucentanius turned to my forefathers people from across the northern sea and promised them land and gold if they would fight away this threat. This they did but when they asked for their reward it was denied to them. In part justly, yet also in parts savagely and greedily my forefather’s people and their northmen cousins decided to take what they believed was theirs for themselves. Into this scene Albion returned, with both northmen and Danarians trying to seize a new Kingdom from the Senatian province.
At first Albion tried to live in peace defending only his father’s lands from raids and ruin. It was not long though before his neighbours noticed how effective a warrior and general he was and offered him tribute if he would extend his protection to their lands as well. He could scarcely refuse such an offer; his people were poor and his men were no longer paid by the Empire. Eventually though his protection of the southern lands brought him into conflict with the Warlord Hengar, who sought to make a kingdom from these very same lands.
Albion defeated him in battle but not before the two great warriors met on the field. Legend tells it was a fierce contest, Albion’s sword was broken and though he buried what was left of the haft in Hengar’s gut he still bore him to the ground. Pinned by the huge warlord, Albion drew his short sword and severed Hengar’s sword arm from him then slashed open his throat.” Caleigh winced at the description and Cynric nodded in agreement. “Yes, indeed. The scene was most bloody. It is said that Albion was splashed red from head to knee when he tore himself from the corpse. He did not linger after in victory celebration but stole away and walked for ten miles till he reached the shores of Lake Nimenorn. Tearing off his bloody garments he sank beneath the clear waters. It was then that the White Lady appeared to him. She could see in him a great warrior and leader of men yet more importantly she could see how he sickened of war for war’s sake and his longing for a cause more noble.” Despite herself Caleigh felt impelled to interrupt.
“Who is this White Lady?”
“Some know her name, perhaps, I do not. All I know is she is a spirit of true benevolence who has long watched over these lands. She appears sometimes to men and ever afterwards they are compelled to great deeds both in scale and virtue.”
“What did she say to Albion?”
“I do not know. All that is certain is that when Albion was tracked by his captains he was now possessed of a brilliant sword, unlike any other seen at the time, and an unshakeable purpose to unite the people of the western lands in a Kingdom, not where one tribe ruled another but where all peoples were equal and ruled by conscience. He showed this virtue the following year when the armies of Hengest, cousin of Hengar, came to take revenge for his defeat. Once more Albion took to the field and once again he held the upper hand. Unlike before his victory was not a complete one and the war would have continued after had he not challenged Hengest to single-combat to end it once and for all.
Hengest was not the giant his cousin was; he was a warrior of skill as well as strength. The duel between him and Albion was said to be glorious to behold, albeit brief. This time it was not Albion’s sword that shattered but his opponent’s and with Hengest’s defences open he surprised all watching by knocking him down with the butt of his sword rather than delivering him a killing blow. Triumphant, Albion put his sword to Hengest’s throat and offered to let him live if he accepted defeat. This Hengest did only to draw out a dagger when Albion turned away. Without even looking, Albion drove his
sword through Hengest’s heart then turned to his captains and made the same offer he made to their king. He spoke to them of his vision of a better world and some of them were prepared to listen. Among them was my forefather Cynwulf, and in a gesture of trust he was one of only twelve warriors to accompany Albion after the battle in his journey to the Shrine of Lost Souls. There he had been told he would meet a friend and passing through tricks and illusions on the way he came at last to the shrine where waiting for him was Caerddyn, the wizard.”
“It was the White Lady, who brought them together?”
“Many think so. Certainly once at the shrine both Albion and Caerddyn claimed they had perceived her again and thereafter went on to build the Kingdom of Conscience. This part is better known so I shall not speak of it today and I think that I have said enough to answer your curiosity about the shrine.”
“Yes, my lord. I have learned much of interest today.”
“I am glad to hear so I also feel I have gained. There is some quality about you Caleigh that makes me happy to share your presence. I can well see why Marc and Edith value you so much. Alas now, we seem to have run short of garden,” Cynric remarked noting their approach to the exit “and of time too it seems. If ever you find yourself in need of travelling north I ask that you stop at Crowbridge on the way. I should like to speak with you again some time.”
5. The Shrine of Lost Souls
That her head was that night filled with thoughts of Albion, Caerddyn and the Shrine of Lost Souls was of no surprise to Caleigh. The clarity and detail of these images, however, was less expected. Cynric had not described the progress of a brown haired young man down through long grasses and into waters filled with reeds and lilies. Nor how he had divested himself of garments and plunged his face beneath the surface, yet she saw it so clearly. She saw the great peels of blood breaking to the surface from his soaked flesh and caked hair, and she saw the reflected white light in his eyes as the white lady first shone before him.
Then over into a mountain scene there stood Albion beside Caerddyn, darkly robed, raven hair streaked with grey, staring in wonder where Caleigh had stood herself in dreams before hoping for the white lady to turn and greet her. Albion looked the more awed of the two while also the more at ease. It seemed to Caerddyn this apparition held both fascination and trepidation in equal measure.
At last Caleigh found herself in her usual position, standing alone where she had looked upon the figures of legend facing the perspective she had held before. The white lady stood there staring down at the drop and for once Caleigh felt no urgent need for answers. No longer questioning she spoke simply instead “I will come to you soon.”
Two laden ponies stomped around outside the northern wall of the hall of Connlad calmly shepherded by Dana and Caleigh towards the outer gate of the town. They did not get far before they were waylaid by Penric and Ellie standing before them on the wide dry dirt path. Penric was attired in a mail hauberk overlaid with a black jerkin bearing Sir Marc’s symbol of a white horse’s head. Over his back was strapped a circular shield and at his waist was a sword of typical Sommerwold design, long, straight and with only a semicircle holder at the hilt to protect the hand.
More strangely, Ellie was in similar war-gear, she too wore leather covering, albeit without the mail underneath and the sword she bore was nearer to the size of a Senatian gladius than Penric’s saexa. She also bore a shield that, like her shield, was correspondingly smaller to fit her frame. “Sir Marc has appointed me as your bodyguard for your sojourn to the Shrine of Lost Souls.” Penric explained.
“And I decided that I should come too.” Ellie added.
“Where did you get all that armament?” Caleigh asked her, momentarily more baffled by her appearance than the notion that she needed protection.
“It’s my cousin’s. We’re the same height and he has no need for these things since his accident.” The cousin in question had been trodden on by an ox the previous summer as Caleigh well remembered.
“Does Dame Edith not require you?”
“Sir Marc said that I may go when I said I wanted to join you. He seems to think this journey is quite important to you.”
“I told you he is fond of you, Caleigh.” Dana added. Caleigh for her part tried not to blush in front of Penric.
“Are you sure, you wish to come with us Penric? It will not be very dangerous I think.”
“Sir Marc charged me with your protection and I shall see to it, Caleigh.” He answered determinedly.
“If it is your wish then I welcome your company.”
In fear of further delays they quickly moved beyond the outer gate to the northwestern road that led to the shrine. There to Caleigh’s dismay waited Robin Stronghand, atop his horse and arrayed like Penric but with an axe instead of a sword holstered to his saddle. “Greeting Caleigh, I heard that you were making your way abroad and wished to offer you my services for your protection. The ways of the road are not without peril, particularly for fair maidens such as yourselves.”
“I thank you for your kind offer but Sir Marc has already provided for our protection.” Robin’s eyes flickered across to Penric’s much affronted face and then back to Caleigh.
“Sir Marc gave this duty to me and me alone.” Penric added defensively. Ignoring Penric, Robin addressed himself to Caleigh once more.
“Is such your wish, Caleigh?”
“Yes, it is, Sir Marc has spared enough people for this journey as it is. I would not wish to deprive him any further.”
“As you desire, fare well on your journey. I hope to see you upon your return.”
“And I you. Good day, Robin.” With a nod Robin moved his horse past the party and continued on to the hall. As the clip clop of his horses hooves disappeared inside the walls, those remaining moved on to the dirt track and left Connlad behind.
For a full day they walked over the rising ground until they came before the taller foothills that lay between them and the valley that led up to the shrine. Though they had packed in preparation for a night in the wild they pressed on hard in the hope of reaching the monastery ahead rather than sleep rough. The evening wore on and remained bright long enough for them to join the trail up to the lonely wood and stone buildings before the fall of dusk. The monastery itself was an impressive, semi-fortified cluster of three halls built on the crest of the hill, each with a circled cross upon the front of its roof. Upon the centremost building there also flew a faded red flag with the same design embossed in dirt-speckled white. Viewing them now, Caleigh realised she had never questioned to whom these monks were devoted and why they resided so close to the shrine.
The gate of the outer wall stood open and none of the monks walking back from the fields tried to accost them. It was only when they presented themselves at the front of the main hall did any one appear to notice them at all. A man of indeterminate age with untidy dark hair and robes of rich brown shuffled out to greet them with a weary smile. “Visitors to the shrine?” He asked genially.
“Yes.” Penric answered for the group. “We beg of your hospitality for the night.”
“No begging is needed; we are duty-bound to offer shelter to pilgrims. My name is Brother Adam and you are most welcome here. ”
“Well met, Brother Adam. I am Penric, squire of Sir Marc of Connlad, and these are Caleigh, Ellie, and Dana, women under Sir Marc’s care entrusted to my charge.” Brother Adam looked over the group, Caleigh felt his eyes dance over her followed by a surge in excitement that was quickly stifled as though doused with cool water. “I will have to ask,” He added in a tone of regret, “that the women restrict themselves to the living quarters we provide. Squire Penric, you are free to join us at the table should you wish or stay with your companions as you see fit.”
“I shall stay with my companions.”
“As you wish, one of our Order will bring you nourishment soon. If you would care to follow me I will show you to your quarters.”
It was Brother Adam himself
who brought them food later coming last to Caleigh’s room to let her know. He seemed reluctant to leave and she took advantage of the chance to find out more about the place she was in. “Would you wait a moment, Brother Adam?”
“Of course, do you wish me to show you to the guest table?”
“No, thank you, I can remember the way. I wished to know a little more about this monastery.”
“I will be glad to answer any questions you may have.”
“Forgive my ignorance but I am sad to say I know not even which god you worship here.”
“We are the Order of the Blessed White Maiden. We live to care for pilgrims to the sacred places she has appeared and to protect them from evil that may wish to despoil them.”
“You have other monasteries in other places?”
“Naturally, there are two others both larger than this; one on the road to the ancient Henge and another, the greatest of the three, upon the isle of Lake Nimenorn.”
“I had heard that the White Lady came to Albion at Lake Nimenorn, I did not know she visited the Henge as well.”
“The Henge is where she first appeared to Caerddyn and twice more to Albion over the years of his life to warn of dangers from the west.”
“How long have you been here?”
“Myself, I have been here for five years. Prior I served at the Henge and soon I shall move on to Nimenorn. Most of my Order though choose to spend their lives at one of the three sacred sites.”
“Has the white lady appeared to any pilgrims since you’ve been here?”
“Alas, the Blessed White Maiden has appeared to none since she last spoke to Albion at his death. Many have hoped to see her and some have falsely claimed to have done so. Yet our Order knows…it is only in times of change or great import that she appears and even then only to a blessed few. We only hope that if that time comes and we show enough dedication one of us may be granted that sacred right in our lifetimes. Why is it that you ask?”
Enchantress Awakening: Part One of the Book of Water (The Elemental Cycle 1) Page 4