Morrigan

by Laura DeLuca

  When at last they stopped to rest for the evening, she spent a little time sketching while Tiarn built a fire. She was trying to draw the faery, but for the first time, she had trouble capturing the beauty of her subject. Afterward, they nibbled on the last of the chips and beef jerky Morrigan had stored in her backpack. They made their bed under the blanket of the stars for the final time. The animal skins felt warmer and safer with Tiarn beside her. Even though her body was achy and stiff from a long day of horseback riding, she never felt happier or more at home. They lay on their backs for a while, and he pointed out constellations in the clear night sky. The stars were so bright; she didn’t even have to strain her eyes to make out the shapes he described.

  “You see, there is the Horned King, and there off to the left is the cross of the Goddess Brigid. And right there, just above us, is my favorite. It is the Wolf and Maiden constellation. See how she rides astride him?”

  “Oh, I see it,” Morrigan exclaimed. “It’s so beautiful! I can even see his fangs!”

  “There is, of course, a legend behind those stars.”

  “And of course, you’re going to share that story with me.”

  He gave her a toothy grin. “Only if you wish it, Your Majesty.”

  She nudged him with her elbow. “You know I wish it. Come on, let’s hear it!”

  “Very well.” He cleared his throat before lapsing into his best narrative voice. “In the beginning of time, there were two beautiful sister witches, one good and one evil. The good witch had hair the color of honey and the dark witch had the mahogany tresses of the raven. As the story goes, a young man came upon the fair-haired sister and instantly fell in love with her. The evil witch grew jealous when she saw her sister’s happiness. She tried to sway the man’s affections, but he stayed true to his love. So she cast a spell upon the man which changed him into a wolf. Yet, even that did not sway his loyalty. He sought out his maiden and remained her loyal companion. He watched her weep for her lost lover, thinking he had deserted her, but because he could not speak, she had no idea the animal that consoled her was the very man for whom she wept.

  “The evil sister was furious her spell did not keep the lovers apart, so she sent a giant to kill her sister. The wolf intervened. He saved his witch, but was mortally wounded. As he lay dying, at last the spell was broken and he took on his mortal form. The good witch realized it was her love who had watched over her all those years, but it was too late for them to find happiness. The Goddess saw what had transpired and took pity on them. Before the man took his final breath, she lifted them both into the heavens, where at last they would have eternal happiness.”

  “How beautiful . . . and depressing.” Morrigan laughed a little as she stared up at the constellation. “Let’s hope our luck is a little better. I want to live our lives out here before we’re immortalized in the stars.”

  “Dearest Morrigan,” he said and squeezed her hand. “There are punishments far worse than death. I have told you my darkest deed, and you have forgiven me. Yet, I wonder if you will always show me such mercy for my sins.”

  “Tiarn,” she whispered. “There is nothing you can do that will make me stop loving you. I don’t think I could even if I wanted to.”

  He sighed and wrapped his arms around her. “I pray that will still be true tomorrow.”

  It had been a long and exhausting day, and it didn’t take them long for them to fall asleep. Even Morrigan, despite her jitters over the thought of finally meeting her mother, found herself quickly immersed in pleasant dreams of love. In the morning, Tiarn produced a few eggs he had stolen away from some very unhappy bird, and they enjoyed them with their bottled water, though they used it sparingly. Morrigan rubbed the crust from her eyes and wished she had a pot of coffee to help her get started.

  It didn’t take them long to pack up the campsite for the day. It was starting to become something of a routine. Before long, they were back on the horse enjoying another arborous trek on bareback. They rode straight through until well past midday, but at a much more leisurely pace since no one pursued them. Still, it was a long, hard road, and Morrigan was sure her legs were going to fall off when they finally slowed to a halt. Tiarn helped her down for the last time and then smacked the horse’s rump. The filly immediately took off at a gallop and disappeared into the brush in a matter of seconds.

  “What did you do that for?” Morrigan asked, confused.

  “We no longer require her services, so I have sent her home. I am certain she will remember the way we came, and if not, may she enjoy her new found freedom.”

  “But I thought you wanted to ride the rest of the way to the castle to save time.”

  He smiled. “So I did and so we have.”

  He took her hand and led her through a few high bushes, and she saw that the forest came to an abrupt halt. On the other side of the woods was a road, which led to a small village. Just beyond the town stood the awesome castle that housed the rival queens of Tír na NÓg.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  The castle was every bit as majestic as she had imagined it would be, and in some ways, it was even grander. It was strategically placed on a large hill, and inside the castle walls she could see the landscape was dotted with trees and well-groomed gardens. There were large dwellings all around its perimeter, but even those grand structures seemed dwarfed in comparison to the massive fortress.

  It was fashioned from the mortar and pestle that was typical of castles from medieval Europe, but in spots there was a sprinkling of green vines and ivy that gave it a more welcoming feeling. The immense structure was surrounded by a moat filled with water of the deepest blue. A drawbridge, which was not open for crossing at the moment, seemed the only way to gain entry. Most of the castle was only two or three stories, but there were several higher towers which had banners waving softly in the breeze. Each bore the insignia of the owl, the coat of arms of Queen Arianrhod.

  “Enchanting, is it not? It is called Caistel Bandraoi, which is Gaelic for the Castle of the Witch. It is the most beautiful structure in all of Tír na NÓg and has housed the royal family for the better part of five centuries.”

  Morrigan nodded, but hardly heard him speak. The impressive stronghold was awe inspiring in its beauty, but terrifying in its significance. This was it. This was the climax of her story. Morrigan was going to meet her mother, and together they would bring about a new era of peace to the land. Either that or they would die at the hands of her Aunt Arianrhod. She had no choice but to think about it and it left her frozen with terror. At her feet, Danu and Dagda curled around her ankles, as if they sensed her anxiety, but even their affectionate purrs could not quell the icy hand of fear that gripped her heart.

  “Are you ready, Princess?” Tiarn asked with a teasing glint in his eye. “Now is the time when things are going to get exciting.”

  Morrigan swallowed hard. “How exciting?”

  “I am sure the bards will sing of your deeds for generations to come.”

  “Well, I’m all for good deeds and songwriting, just so long as we come out alive on the other end.”

  Tiarn laughed. “Is the mighty Morrigan, namesake of the raven goddess of war, finally beset with a case of the jitters? I had thought you invincible!”

  “Please don’t tease me, Tiarn. This is terrifying.” A part of her wanted to cry, but she wouldn’t let herself. “This whole thing is just so . . . I mean it’s . . . how am I supposed to do this? I’m just some silly little teenager from Maryland. How am I supposed to make all the right decisions and do all the right things when I feel so completely overwhelmed?”

  Tiarn softened his voice. “My poor Morrigan. I should not make jests. The battle you face is deadly serious, and you are wise to be fearful. Only a fool runs into battle without fear. I cannot give you all the answers, but I have faith in you. The power of your heart far outweighs any magical abilities you possess. Just follow your heart. It shall lead you in the right direction.”

  Morriga
n nodded and gave him a hug. He was definitely getting better at the pep talks. “You’re right.” She took a deep breath. “I can do this. I’ll be okay. Just tell me where to start.”

  “To start, we must make it through the village undetected. Once that goal is accomplished, we will head toward the dungeon where your mother and grandmother are being kept.”

  Tiarn proceeded to lay out a carefully constructed scheme to get them into the castle alive and undetected. It was a simple plan that sounded like it would be fairly easy to execute. When Morrigan tried to compliment him he reluctantly admitted he couldn’t take credit for the idea. It was Hecate who had mapped out their entrance plan, giving him bits and pieces of information whenever she was able to reach him through her elemental portal. She had lived in the castle for longer than most people remembered and definitely longer than most of the current occupants had been alive. No one knew the layout of the fortress or the surrounding area better than Hecate.

  “However, once we reach the prison chambers, there is no way to predict what we will encounter,” Tiarn went on to explain. “There will be guards and possibly protection spells that may render your magic useless. But I promise you this, Princess; I will remain at your side every second until I know you are safe. No sword, no spell, no witch’s brew shall touch you unless I have already taken my last breath.”

  With that heroic vow, Morrigan could hold back her tears no longer. Nor could she restrain her passion. She pulled her gallant werewolf into her arms and pressed her lips against his with a fury that bordered on desperation. She was filled with so many conflicting emotions, she felt like she was drowning, and only Tiarn could be her life preserver. Her tongue explored his mouth, while her hands pressed him close against her breast. She longed to feel his hands slide beneath the safety of her gown. She was certain she would take him on the spot if only he would allow it. He panted with barely contained desire as he gently pushed her away.

  “Our time will come,” he promised. “But now is not that time.”

  She nodded. She knew he was right. She hated the fact she had to deny herself almost as much as she hated the fact everyone in the kingdom seemed to know she was a virgin. She took a deep breath and tried to calm her hormonal urges so she could concentrate on their plan.

  “What now?” she asked him. “Do we leave?”

  “We shall start with this.” Tiarn grinned. “Become my wife once more, ripe with my child, and allow me to dream for a moment the deception is true.”

  She blushed. “Maybe someday it will be true.”

  She couldn’t believe she had actually said that out loud. For the first time since they met, Tiarn’s cheeks actually colored a little too. “That is my one and only desire. But first, I must see you safely to your family. Once the danger has past, I will officially ask for your hand, as custom decrees. Though I doubt your mother and grandmother will happily welcome both lycan and commoner into the royal line.”

  Morrigan huffed. “It’s a little too late for them to start making decisions for me. Besides, they should have considered that before they sent a dashing young werewolf to be my guide on this journey,” she teased.

  Tiarn smiled and squeezed her hand as she fumbled to adjust the bulge in her belly, trying to make it look natural. The cloak was a little bigger than the leggings she had lost back in the last village, so it was harder to get it just right. Once the task was accomplished, she took one last look through her backpack and decided it was time to leave it behind. The only things she had left that she wanted to take with her were Alden’s raven, her sketchbook, and her father’s letter. She placed the little carving securely in her bustier and hid the book under her cloak with the note tucked inside its pages.

  When she was ready, she pulled her hood up to hide her jet black hair. It was so much like her mother’s that it would be a dead giveaway this close to the castle where the people had probably seen Ceridwyn often. She tried her best to keep her face in shadows and follow Tiarn’s lead as they made their way down the gently sloping hill that led to the bustling town below. The cats followed them, but stayed at a careful distance. They even chased a few mice in an attempt to blend in with the other strays that stalked the square. Morrigan knew they could take care of themselves, yet she still felt the urge to look over her shoulder every few minutes, just to make sure her beloved pets were still with them.

  The village was very much like the one Brigid’s Inn had called home, just on a much larger scale. There were merchants selling wares in the marketplace, but instead of simple garden vegetables, there were exotic fruits from faraway lands. Instead of dyed wool, there were the softest silks in all colors of the rainbow. The weapons were not plain iron carved by the force of the blacksmith’s hammer, but fine metals decorated and encrusted with gold and jewels.

  The homes along the edge of the market and further into the town seemed to get larger and fancier. Some boasted as many as three stories, and most were made from stone. They didn’t have straw roofs, but they did have flowered gardens and guardian statues of lions and other beasts that took their posts a little too seriously, based on their horrific faces. Most of the people who walked down the street were dressed in fine robes made from velvet and silk, and they seemed to hold their noses up in the air as they passed the more lowly merchants. They were obviously the noble men and women, and there was no doubt Tiarn and Morrigan stood out like a pair of beggars amidst the aristocrats.

  In addition to the magnificent homes, the streets were dotted with at least a dozen different temples, each dedicated to a different deity. Morrigan knew one of those temples was their current destination. Getting there shouldn’t have presented a problem when so many people came and went from the places of worship, but mixed in among merchants and nobles were more than a handful of armed guards. She instantly recognized Caedmon, the soldier who had insisted no one harm her back in the woods. She couldn’t tell if he was on duty, but at least he didn’t have the magic hounds at his feet. He seemed to be bartering for a new cape. The one he wore was still cinged from his last encounter with Morrigan, and his face was marred by a few dark bruises.

  The solider must have felt the intensity of her stare. He turned, and his eyes narrowed as he scanned the crowd warily. Morrigan wrapped the black cloak more tightly around her shoulders and was glad she had still been wearing her modern day clothes when they last met. Thanks to Alden, she was able to blend in much easier.

  Tiarn noticed a few familiar faces in the crowd as well, and that prompted him to move a little quicker down the cobblestone path. He probably would have broken into a sprint if he thought it would go undetected. He took her arm and guided her swiftly through the maze of people who dominated the square. There had to be at least a few hundred villagers milling around, which was working to their advantage because it helped them to blend in more easily. But even a powerful witch, a werewolf, and two Guardians wouldn’t be able to overcome so many humans, and there were most likely a few magical beings mingling among the humans as well.

  The castle still seemed impossibly far off in the distance, but Morrigan knew their plan included a shortcut. Tiarn led her to one of the temples that dotted the long winding road. They entered quickly and even the cats were able to slip in without being seen. They hid in one of the corners behind an altar filled with offerings of fruits and wine so no one would notice them. The building was one of the more extravagant in the cluster of temples in the village. It had gigantic pillars made from marble and carved with ornate engravings of flowers and vines. The cathedral ceilings were almost impossibly high and glittered as though the stars themselves had a hand in their making. She had no idea what type of architecture it involved, but she knew no technology from her so called modern world was its equal.

  As lovely as the temple was, Morrigan had to wonder why they were there. When Tiarn had told her the explicit directions given by Hecate, he had said there was a shortcut through the temple. A quick glance around the large singular room revea
led no doors other than the one they had passed through.

  “Where are we going now?” she whispered. There were several worshippers in the temple paying homage and she certainly didn’t want to attract their attention.

  “Kneel!” Tiarn ordered and didn’t even attempt to keep his voice at a lower volume. “We must kneel before the Goddess Ceridwyn, Mother of All, and ask that She bring forth our child from Her Cauldron of Life pure and healthy. We must ask for Her blessing though we are most unworthy!”

  Morrigan hadn’t entirely caught onto his plan, but she had to assume he knew what he was doing. With a shrug, she knelt down in front of the carved effigy of a beautiful woman. The face, though chiseled from stone, had eyes that were so lifelike they seemed to study Morrigan as she bowed at her feet.

  Directly in front of the Goddess stood a large cauldron, which was also carved from stone in stunning and elaborate detail. All the creatures from creation poured forth from the bubbling cauldron. From the smallest insect to modern humans, it seemed every living thing was represented in the remarkable artwork. Ceridwyn held a long scepter in her hand which she used to stir the magic brew. The statue was beyond beautiful. It was rapturous. It instantly invoked within Morrigan a sense of rebirth, which was only fitting since she was about to start a new life with her mother in a completely new and alien world.

  Morrigan didn’t speak as she studied the sculpture. She sat with her eyes downcast and her head bowed as she waited for Tiarn to give her some direction. The hard marble floor was cold even through the heavy material of her gown. Her knees were starting to ache from the constant pressure on them. It seemed like they were waiting for hours, though in reality it was probably closer to twenty minutes. Her back was beginning to ache when the last patron vacated the temple, leaving Tiarn and Morrigan alone with the foreboding image of the Goddess Ceridwyn and her cauldron.