by T L Harty
“Yes, I would,” I countered. “Just let me have it, and then give me time to process the information or ask questions.”
To this statement, Ann sat back, seeming to ponder my suggestion. She was visibly assessing the pros and cons, as she tilted her head, looked upward and contorted her mouth. After she came to a decision, she checked around the room to make sure we were alone.
“We will try it your way,” she announced. “There are only two things I was supposed to help you with this week. To accept that you and Bruce were fated to be together and that Deidra was expected to marry one of Bruce’s sons. It will ensure a strong line of Toec continues. There, that wasn’t so bad,” she finished, quite proud of herself.
“I’m married,” I stated the obvious, “and my daughter will marry who she pleases!”
Ann was startled by my raised voice. “You will not be married for much longer,” she informed. “Bridget has seen Rick’s son.”
“Rick doesn’t have a son,” I argued.
“He will,” she quietly informed me. “Lorrah doesn’t know it yet, but she is with child.”
The opposing emotions were too difficult to sort out. On the one hand, I was happy for Rick. He was going to get the child he had been longing for all these years, the child I refused to give him. On the other hand, a rage filled me that he would dare be so irresponsible while we were still married.
“Um, that last piece of information was not mine to share,” Ann squinted. “Macy was supposed to tell you about that. When Lorrah realizes they are going to have a child, Macy will take you to meet with them.”
It wasn’t even noon yet but the information Ann had shared, sent me right back up to my room. I lay on the bed weeping, not even sure which situation brought about the tears. The emotional release left me exhausted, and visions came to me.
Deidra was being hit by a man, while four other men watched in distress. They took turns reaching out to try and help her. I strained to identify the abusive man, but it was not for me to see. Bruce and I walked hand in hand across the meadow outside of the castle. In between steps, there were flashes of passionate moments shared between us. Moments that quite possibly made me blush in my sleep.
A light tap at my door announced a visitor. Deidra entered and flopped on the bed with me. She brushed the hair off of my face.
“You fell asleep for a while, Mom,” Deidra smiled. “It’s almost dinner time.”
“Do we have a set dinnertime around here?” I wondered.
“Yep!” she exclaimed. “Six o’clock.”
“Do you still like the fact that our lives are going to change so drastically?” I asked.
“Well, I didn’t know everything,” Deidra admitted. “I learned today that it is important to continue our line.” She looked down. “That means that I will need to marry one of Bruce’s sons. I’m not sure how I feel about that,” she said.
“You are not going to marry someone you don’t love,” I concluded. “You are almost thirteen, so it is much too soon to be thinking about that anyway. Let me wash up and we can go get dinner together.”
Deidra and I were first at the table. Ann arrived shortly after, then Bruce and Tracy. Dinner was a healthy serving of pasta and vegetables. It was nice to have a reprieve from a meal heavy with meat. Before dessert, Tracy excused herself, hoping to get some reading done. Four of us were left.
“What is this nonsense that Deidra should marry one of Bruce’s sons?” I asked out loud, not to anyone in particular.
Ann was mid-sip with her tea when I posed the question. She coughed, wiped her mouth with a napkin and looked at Bruce.
“Deidra will have her choice of Bruce’s sons,” Ann informed. “These young men are all different, meaning that one of them will be perfect for Deidra.”
“Deidra has the right to find her own husband,” I pointed out. The vision that I had seen in my room came back for mere seconds. Deidra’s choice was not treating her appropriately. The other men in the vision would treat her right, regardless of which one she selected. My mind had been instantly changed.
“My sons will be good to your daughter,” Bruce spoke up. “They have been raised to honor and cherish Deidra.”
“Why are your sons not here with you?” I inquired.
“They are being raised by their mothers in loving homes, with good fathers,” he explained. “I was merely a sperm donor to strengthen the Toec line.”
I looked at Deidra, saying, “You will have your choice of four. How about we give them a chance? If none of them make you happy, then we can talk.”
“That’s totally fair,” Deidra agreed.
“We must continue the castle tour, Muriel,” Bruce said. It was the first time my name had crossed his lips. We both got up from our chairs at the same time.
“Will you two be alright without us?” I asked Deidra and Ann, hoping one of them would speak up. They both nodded affirmatively, not helping me out at all.
“Good try,” Bruce joked, when we came together at the end of the table.
We began walking down the corridor, past the small gym and the area with the floor to ceiling windows. There was another corridor on the other side of the area where Ann gave her lesson that morning. It must have been difficult to see in the earlier sunlight. Bruce disappeared about halfway down the corridor, through a door on the left.
I followed him into a room filled with greenery. There was one path down the middle, and smaller rows to the left and right. Bruce was standing in a doorway ahead of me. He made sure we were standing side by side.
“This is my favorite room in the whole castle,” he said. There was nothing to see because it was dark until he turned on a light switch to his right, illuminating the room. A huge greenhouse lay before us, fully alive with trees and plants of all kinds. We were at the top of a flight of stairs. The room was wider than the one we just walked through and much longer. The top of a fruit tree was just off to my left.
“This greenhouse has been privy to some of my best thinking,” Bruce said, before sliding down the banister, his childlike display only making him more attractive.
He waited at the bottom of the stairs with his hand outstretched. At the end of the greenhouse, was a cleared area with lounge chairs and small tables.
“This is an odd little area,” I commented.
“The other women on the council come here to soak in the sun when it’s winter time,” Bruce explained. “It’s always so warm and fragrant. It reminds me of you.”
If he wasn’t so sincere, it would have been the worst pick up line ever. “We’ve only just met,” I reminded him.
He shut off the lights, and we were under the glass. Some stars were shining overhead, but clouds obscured the moon and most of the stars tonight. “But this is where thoughts of you have haunted me for years,” he said. “I’d watch the seasons change and wonder where you were or how much longer I’d have to wait.”
His words made me sad. He led me to a lounge chair that we both shared. I rested my head on his shoulder, as he spoke. How odd that I was comfortable with such closeness, listening to his heartbeat. It was enchanting.
“Now that you are here, it’s very hard to believe,” he shared. “I find myself still waiting for you…still preparing to love you.”
“I’m married,” I whispered.
“He divorced you the minute he chose another,” Bruce said. He stroked my hair, touching his cheek to the top of my head.
Rain started to slowly sound off the glass, but it wasn’t long before snow began to mix with the rain. The glass was warm from the inside temperature, so the snow didn’t last long on the glass. My resolve was melting right along with the snow. With every stroke of my hair or melodic heartbeat, my desire for Bruce grew.
He quickly shifted in the chair, now holding the back of my head in his hand. His face was hovering over mine, his body pressed against my side. If I dare let him kiss me, there may be no going back.
Turning my head to the si
de, I told him, “This can’t be. You are right that Rick and I no longer have a relationship, but just because he made a bad choice doesn’t give me license to do the same. I have a daughter to be an example to. This isn’t as simple for me.”
Bruce sighed with disappointment. “I understand,” he whispered. He nuzzled my neck, and touched his lips to my ear. “But know this,” he said, while kissing my neck. “When we can finally be together, the worries of this world will seem trivial.” He raised me up out of the chair. His confidence was just one more thing about him that I found intoxicating.
In the weeks ahead, I would need to discover Bruce’s flaws. There had to be traits that were undesirable. Otherwise, there would be no way to resist his charms. A woman can only take so much.
He walked me to my room and kissed my hand. Even that had me covered in goosebumps. Lying on my bed, I mentally graded the evening. There were high marks in all things except my ability to reject Bruce. The only course of action, with any chance of working, was to try and avoid him. So, that would be my plan. At least tonight I had managed to change into my pajamas and get under the covers before falling asleep. Things were looking up.
When morning light came, it felt like sleep had eluded me. Between the visions of Bruce and I in very compromising positions and Deidra’s quest for a mate, the night hours were restless. I wrote a note and placed it on my door, asking not to be disturbed. Crawling right back in to bed was my only recourse.
The extra rest had me waking with a much better attitude. I stretched my hand out, and was alarmed to find Bruce right beside me. He was on his side, with his hand supporting his head.
“Good morning!” he said. “Well, just barely. It’s 10:30. Everyone went out a couple of hours ago to go skiing, so I thought I would come upstairs and make passionate love to you.”
“No,” I laughed. “Just last night, I planned to start avoiding you more.”
“Hmm,” he mused, “how is that going?”
Getting out of bed, I threw a pillow over his face. “Not well,” I admitted. “But, through no fault of my own.”
“Where do you accomplish most of your best thinking?” Bruce asked me.
“Without a doubt, in the shower,” I responded.
“Well, since I showed you my spot last night, maybe you can show me yours,” he suggested.
“Get out,” I said, while pointing to the door.
He did as he was told. It would be hard for him to break through my early-morning defenses. These were not my prime hours of weakness.
After my shower, I went down for a taste of old-fashioned castle food: Bread, cheese and grapes. Before I left the table, everyone came back from skiing. It was nearly lunch time, so I stayed with them, listening to their tales of the slopes.
“So,” Deidra spoke, looking at Ann, “tell me more about my duty to marry one of Bruce’s sons.”
“Your love will be one for the ages,” she sighed. “You will be so happy with your husband. This summer, you will get to meet all four of them. After you turn thirteen, you are introduced to your suitors. When you are sixteen, you will decide on one.”
I nearly spat out my tea, but didn’t interrupt their conversation.
“That’s mental!” Deidra exclaimed. “I’m not getting married at sixteen!”
Tracy and Ann laughed, which made me angry. The long, wooden table lifted a foot up off the ground, and slammed back down. My dish almost bounced off the table. We all looked around at each other, wide-eyed.
Tracy looked under the table. When she raised her head back up, she was looking in my direction. “I believe that was you, Muriel,” she said.
Oddly, we didn’t dwell on the table as though such things were a common occurrence.
Ann explained to Deidra, “You don’t have to get married at sixteen; you just pick which boy you like best, so the others can go on with their lives.” Deidra tilted her head, flashing an expression of acceptance.
“It’s almost lunch time,” Tracy informed me. “Are you going to eat with us, Muriel?”
“I’ll stay and chat with you, but I had a meal right before you returned,” I said. “Besides, it beats trying to avoid Bruce.”
“Oh, you won’t have to worry about him for a while,” Ann said, nonchalantly. “He was just leaving when we came back, suitcase in tow.”
“Why?” I asked. There was unexpected disappointment in my voice, which Ann must have heard too.
“He will be back when you train with Macy,” Tracy told me.
“It seems you are difficult to resist,” Ann teased.
Chapter 10- Pagan Faith
Grammy was not very pleased with my behavior while we were in Kildare. When we returned to our room at the bed and breakfast, she wasn’t speaking much. I regretted saying the word Oris out loud, but there would be no regrets for napping all afternoon. Sleep was a wonderful escape mechanism.
“Can we talk?” I wondered. “I mean, really talk.”
“Yes,” she responded. “It’s actually a good idea that when we talk about sensitive topics, we do so in private.” Her words were lined with sarcasm.
“I apologize,” I sighed. “It was wrong to behave the way I did today. This is all so confusing. Visions of history are assaulting my senses, but they don’t coincide with what tour guides are telling us.” Without even noticing, I had begun pacing while speaking to Grammy.
“Your visions are likely correct,” Grammy assured. “Tell me what you saw at the cathedral so we can talk this through.”
I plopped down in the chair, shaking my head. If the visions were true, the injustices were too much.
“For starters, Brigid was a druidess or an Oris, and Kildare was the last attempt at keeping the Celtic traditions alive,” I informed. Grammy looked surprised, but not enough to comment. “Brigid was in charge of the abbey, and ruled over both the men and women.”
“You probably know that druid society was very peaceful,” I continued. “They spent time in nature, and believed everything in the natural world had spiritual significance.”
“I’m not sure where you are going with this, Muriel,” Grammy interjected.
“The church came into these lands and had an opportunity to include the druid beliefs, which did not completely oppose Christianity.” I explained. “The Celts accepted the gospel to be true in Kildare, but some of the ideas of the church were confusing to them. Do you remember when the priest at the cathedral told us the building had been destroyed a lot?” I asked.
“Sure,” Grammy answered. “I didn’t even know you were paying attention.”
“For the most part, I wasn’t,” I admitted. “But in my vision, it was the Celts who were destroying the cathedral over and over again. They were not willing to accept some of the church’s doctrine. It made no sense to them.”
“The druids had stayed firm in their beliefs,” I noted. “Over the years, there had been an influx of different cultures and ideas to their lands: The Romans, Vikings, Normans, Anglo-Saxons. Religion became flexible.”
“Now hold on,” Grammy interrupted. “Religion is not flexible.”
“I’m sorry, Grammy, but religion is a joke,” I said, flatly.
That comment was more than she could take. She rose up out of her chair, which made me wince, because there was surely some violence coming my way. “Muriel…” she started, not able to verbalize her frustration.
“Hear me out,” I told her, raising my hand to avoid any outburst of violence Grammy might employ. She sat back down, red-faced and lacking the patience to go on.
“There is a huge difference between Christianity and religion,” I started, slowly. “Authentic Christianity is not a mentality that pits people against each other. It doesn’t make promises of prosperity or try to control governments. Religion says come to this church, so that we may dole out God to you…how we see fit. Christianity is helping people understand that He is always available because He is within us.”
My rant was nearly finis
hed, but looking at Grammy made me briefly quiet myself. There were tears in her eyes. She didn’t like to get emotional in front of others, so I expertly pretended to be oblivious. (Her crying had increased in frequency as she aged, which afforded me more practice). The next thing I chose to say needed to rile her up, helping dry her eyes.
“From what I could see, the church had an unhealthy view of women,” I mentioned, hoping to raise her hackles.
“Why would you say that?” she wondered, with a tone of irritation. Mission accomplished, I thought to myself.
“The early church was confused about celibacy and marriage for those who served,” I stated. “Can you imagine having to fight a natural urge…a God-given urge your whole life? Some priests almost hated women for the effect they had on them. The original reason that church figureheads weren’t supposed to marry was for money, not anything biblical. It’s no wonder the Celts didn’t understand.”
“That’s ridiculous,” Grammy decided.
“Is it? If these men had children, their lands, money and possessions would be bequeathed to their children,” I explained. “The church wanted to keep all the money they could get. If there were no formal marriages, there were no legitimate children, and therefore, no legal right to any monetary gains. Everything stayed within the church, as did all the prestige and power.”
Grammy didn’t know what to say to that. She was formulating a question, but every time she went to ask it, something stopped her.
“I know this is a lot,” I sympathized. “But I saw it. I can tell you about particular instances, but you’re not going to like it.”
Grammy shook her head no.
“Moving on then,” I continued, thankful to spare Grammy from some awful truths. “The Celts and druid people had always held women in very high regard, but it was difficult to fight the opposing views that were beginning to infiltrate their lives. Women became pawns to use for treaties or whoring. The area we visited today was one of the last strongholds of druid power, and their way of life,” I said. “Our people infiltrated the church to exist in safety, but many moved west to escape the Norman invasions.”