Blazing Earth

by TERRI BRISBIN

  “I trust you will keep my counsel and not speak of this to anyone else, Tolan. I look for certain symbols carved into the highest places on the stones. Flame, lightning, water, the sun, and more. I must find them. My very li . . .” Lord Geoffrey stopped and looked around as though he’d heard someone approach. “I must find them.”

  “I know of no such stones, my lord,” Tolan offered. He said so even while knowing he lied as he spoke those words. Tolan knew that his duty, his ultimate loyalty, belonged not to this worldly lord but to the ancient ones who had sculpted this landscape and whose power yet lived in the earth beneath his feet. The ones whose blood pulsed through his body even now.

  “Then we must continue searching,” Geoffrey replied. Standing, he walked away with a brisk stride, not even waiting for Tolan to speak again.

  Who would put Geoffrey of Amesbury to such a task? Who knew of stones carved with symbols of the old gods? The circles Tolan knew of or had seen always included more than eight stones. But the stories handed down to him spoke of other circles, hidden ones that always contained one pillar for each of the seven Old Ones and one for the priest who was needed for rituals. And an altar or recumbent stone for sacrifices. Eight stones standing around one. Tolan wondered who would be seeking out that circle now.

  As the reddened area on his arm burned anew, Tolan suspected he might know.

  They spent the next day searching or searching again the huge stones there. Tolan feigned it at the beginning, but by the end of the day, he did not doubt that there was some power here. The ground around some of the stones, the ones that carried small symbols of axes, felt the same to him as the edges of his own lands. But the vibrations never grew stronger or louder to him.

  And that night, Tolan’s dreams were filled with images of ancient priests leading their people in procession into the circle. Carrying gifts and sacrifices, they worshipped their gods as they had for generations. When he woke, his hand was buried in the loose soil and he knew that the dreams had truly been visions of the past events on this land. Another gift from his own gods.

  For the next sennight, they made their way across the area, wending along small roads and bigger ones, through the farmland and hills, turning north and then east until they reached a huge mound that could be seen for miles. These lands belonged to various local noblemen and some to the nearby abbeys and churches. But this mound had existed for longer than Tolan could even guess. The ruins on top spoke of long disuse, so Lord Geoffrey traveled past it without stopping.

  When they reached the monoliths scattered in larger circles across the countryside at Avebury, Lord Geoffrey turned them south along the road that would lead past Tolan’s own lands that bordered on Lord Geoffrey’s. Tolan hoped they would simply ride on by it, but the nobleman called a halt and summoned Tolan to his side.

  “This is your farm, is it not, Tolan?” Geoffrey pointed to the thick copse and the fields surrounding it.

  “Aye, ’tis mine,” he said, not able to keep the pride from his voice. Not many could claim that they owned land, but his family had acquired this and passed it down from father to son over uncounted generations.

  “What lies in the woods there?”

  A deep, piercing fear cut through him and simmered in his gut at the question. He turned away to try to control his reaction before answering, “Only thick growths of old trees, my lord.”

  “So you have walked the land there? You know it well?”

  “I have, from the time I was a boy.”

  As Lord Geoffrey thought on his words, staring at the woods, Tolan could feel the rumbling coming from under the earth, traveling out in waves from the woods. He glanced at the rest of the group, wondering how no one else was aware of the life and the power flowing here. It called to him here more strongly than any other place he’d been.

  “Why do you not cut those down and cultivate the lands?” the lord asked.

  “I have enough work to fill my time, my lord,” he replied. “I am hoping that my son will take over this.”

  “Who lives there now?” Lord Geoffrey turned his horse and nodded toward the small house built just outside the circle of trees. The small curls of smoke escaping the chimney gave proof of its use.

  “A cousin. He lives here and oversees the fields that surround the woods.”

  The arrangement worked well for both of them—his cousin, Farold, got a place to live and meaningful work and Tolan got someone who oversaw his lands when he could not. Lord Geoffrey moved closer and leaned toward Tolan.

  “Are you certain there are no stones like the ones I seek there?”

  “I have seen no such stones, my lord.”

  Tolan held his breath as Geoffrey considered his words and made his choice. As he waited, his cousin, having seen their approach and having recognized him, walked toward them, waving in greeting to them.

  “Go. See your cousin and catch up with us anon. I wish to sleep in my own bed this night.”

  With a barking command, the nobleman ordered the rest to ride south, leaving Tolan in their dust. Tolan took only a few minutes to greet his cousin and speak on matters between them before mounting and riding away at a fast pace. When he first heard the voice carried on the wind, he thought it was his cousin calling to him. Pulling up hard on the reins and bringing the horse to a halt, Tolan turned and searched for its source.

  Tolan Earthblood, come to me.

  His cousin even now returned to his tasks inside and there was no one else there in the fields or on the road. Loosening his grips on the leather strips, he had readied to touch the horse’s sides to ride once more when he heard it again.

  Tolan Earthblood, heed my call. I am here.

  A woman’s voice. A woman spoke to him, and yet he could not believe where the voice seemed to come from—the center of the woods. He found himself drawn to the edge of the earthwork that surrounded the woods. A huge ancient henge, like the others they’d visited these last weeks and yet not like any other in the world.

  Blood of the Old Ones is in your veins and I call you to my side.

  He cried out in pain as the area on his arm seemed to melt and sear at the sound of the voice. Tugging his sleeve up, he saw that the area now carried a shape—that of a tree—and changed before his eyes. The rough form of a trunk, roots, and branches formed and melted, over and over, there on his forearm. And as it did, the voice whispered low in his head, the power in it growing stronger with each word.

  Now. Come to me now. Serve me and I will make you lord of all you can see. Earthblood.

  By the gods! Were the stories of Old Ones and their existence and ties to this land true? If they were, if the ring of stones existed beneath these woods, then the voice was . . .

  Tolan stopped thinking on it and kicked his heels, making his horse rear and then charge into a gallop along the road. He only knew he must distance himself from this now. Only when he caught up with the others some miles along the road did the whispers cease completely.

  “Tolan, are you well?” Bordan asked him as Tolan took a place behind the soldiers. “You look like you have seen something unholy.”

  “I am not used to such journeys,” he said, not meeting the man’s gaze. “All will be well when I get back to my cottage in the village.”

  And as they crossed the miles to Amesbury, Tolan tried to convince himself of that. But something deep in his soul told him he had never been so wrong.

  CHAPTER 4

  The sun rose and she did as well. No matter how she felt on any morning, Thea found it impossible to sleep past sunrise. Stretching out along the length of the pallet, she watched her breath float like a cloud across the chamber. Even knowing that the cold air of the morning would chill her, she tossed back the thick blankets and began her daily routine. There were tasks to carry out and people who needed her attention.

  Those parts of her day ahead were not
what caused the anticipation she felt growing within her, though. Bordan had told Langston, who’d been overheard by Kirwyn, who’d then told Githa, who told her that Tolan would return this day. She laughed at the convoluted way that she’d learned of it as she cleaned out her hearth and arranged a new pile of wood and kindling for the fire.

  Tolan would return this day.

  As much as she was content with her life as it was, Thea could not lie to herself as easily as she could to others—she liked having Tolan in her life too much. She liked his attentions and his concern about her. She could imagine . . . nay, not that, but she could almost imagine being at ease with him at the end of each day.

  Shocked by even that admission, she shook her head and laughed. How far she’d fallen from the vows she’d made to herself when Jasper died. Never would she allow another man to be close to her, close enough to hurt her as her husband had. Never again would she allow a man to determine the breadth of her life. Never again would a man limit her work. And here she was, just three years later, contemplating breaking every one of those hard-won promises.

  Thea moved the pot on the hook over the flames and poured water into it from the bucket beside the hearth. Once it was heated, she washed with it, then ate and dressed. Gathering her satchel and basket, she prepared for the day ahead. Banking the fire, she wrapped her cloak around her and walked out onto the porch in front of her cottage. Without a thought, she faced the rising sun and closed her eyes, allowing its growing strength to seep into the coldness of her body.

  She remembered not when she’d begun the custom, but it served well as a beginning to her path of healing and helping each day. Though it was still low in the sky, she could feel the increase of heat and light each day. Mayhap her family descended from those ancient priests who charted the sun’s progress through the sky? She knew not, but the practice seemed to give her some comfort as she began her day.

  Each year, during the darker days of winter, she found herself stopping anytime the sun’s light broke through the clouds to take and savor that moment. Then, some months later, as summer approached, the sun stayed up longer and higher, its light and heat and strength would surround her for many hours each day.

  The day passed slowly, for she found herself thinking more and more about Tolan than she usually did. Mayhap his absence had brought this need for him to a sharpness she’d not felt before? Oh, she did need him. Not just for the passion they shared, but also for the companionship and commonality of their duties to the people here.

  For a widow, sharing a bed was not a scandalous thing and Thea liked the pattern that they’d fallen into over the last year. They each had their daily lives and their own responsibilities, but they spent their nights, many nights, together.

  There were no demands, no duty owed, and no ownership of her life and soul. She shivered then, not from a lack of warmth but from the memories of the time when Jasper had owned her body and soul.

  Never again. Never. Again.

  Not that Tolan would ever . . .

  She shook off this path of thinking and walked briskly along the lane to her next stop. The new babe was thriving and, even after a rough beginning, showed no signs of slowing. Linne was healing well and was taking care of her child with only a little help from Rolfe’s mother.

  A broken leg that needed tending. Cuts and burns. Scrapes. A fever. Arranging for the planting of the new herbs in the shared garden. All these took her attention for several hours and it was only as the sun began its slide to setting in the west that she finally realized she’d not thought on Tolan since earlier in the day.

  After eating a simple meal by herself, Thea found some garments that needed repairs and realized the repetitions eased her nervousness. Well, not nervousness but eagerness for him to arrive. It was long after dark when the sound of soft footsteps outside gained her attention.

  Elethea looked up from the mending at the soft knock on her door. A more insistent one would mean one of the villagers needed her attentions. This kind signaled only one thing to her—the arrival of Tolan. She placed the torn tunic back in the basket sitting by the small hearth and went to see.

  Lifting the latch, she eased the wooden door open a scant inch and glanced outside. In the dark of the night, he stood there, outlined by the full moon’s light. He was taller than most men in the village; she recognized his form at once. Then he nodded and, in that deep tone of voice that never failed to send whispers of heat through her, greeted her.

  “Elethea, how do you fare?”

  She wanted to laugh. His words were so commonplace as though his arrival at her cottage in the hours when most of the village slept was how things were in Amesbury. Elethea did not doubt for a moment that many knew of their assignations. Still . . .

  “I am well, Tolan.” She stepped back and opened the door wider. “And how was your journey?” He’d been away, seeing to their lord’s concerns, for almost a fortnight.

  He accepted the invitation as he always did—in a calm, even manner. She doubted that anyone who’d met him, save for possibly his dead wife, had ever seen the passion that lived within this composed exterior. But Elethea glimpsed it—once in the fields observing him as he tended to his lands and every time he joined with her body.

  Before closing the door, she took the small lantern from the rock that sat beside it and brought it inside. It was her signal to others that she was still awake and could help them. With Tolan’s arrival, though, she wished for no interruptions.

  He stood in the middle of the room and his head nearly touched the roof above. And he watched her with a dark intensity that her body understood. “I am well.” He loosened his cloak and tossed it over a bench against the wall.

  “But I have missed you, Thea.” He crossed the distance between them in two strides and pulled her into his arms. “I have missed you greatly.”

  His mouth captured hers and she gave herself over to him, waiting for the passion within him to overwhelm the calm control he exuded. Two weeks without him left her restless and needing his touch. Needing the taste of him. Needing the strength and passion he would show her.

  He took her breath away even as he kissed her that first time. By the second and third and fourth kisses, she lost the ability to stand. Tolan slid his arms around her, holding her up and drawing her close.

  “I think you have missed me, too,” he whispered.

  She laughed as he kissed down her throat and used his teeth on that sensitive spot just near her shoulder. Then she could only gasp as she arched against him, aroused by everything he did. His answer was to slide his hand down, caressing the fullness of her breast and then over her stomach until he reached . . .

  The moan escaped as he grazed his hand over the junction of her thighs. Another as he rubbed harder there, the friction and pressure of his touch even through her garments causing her body to heat and weep its own moisture. She ached now, worse than the moment before, and she pressed against his hand, begging for more.

  “End this, Tolan,” she moaned out as his fingers slid between her legs, all the while continuing to caress and press the place where she wanted . . . him.

  “Ah,” he whispered after he claimed her mouth another time, “now I know you have missed me greatly, Thea.” He moved his hand. “And this, mayhap?”

  Elethea held her breath and his gaze as that hand slid down her gown and gathered up its length. His fingers on her skin made her shiver, her body arching in anticipation. Then he moved slowly up her thigh and she gasped with each inch closer, letting her legs fall open for him. When his fingers slipped into the sensitive, heated folds there, her head fell back and she moaned at the pleasure of it.

  His mouth on her neck made her shiver again and she reached up to untie her own laces, wanting his tongue on her breasts. He chuckled; she knew he understood the madness he was causing, and when she’d managed somehow to loosen the edge of her gown
and tug it down, his mouth was there, tasting and nipping along her skin.

  He ceased neither his mouth nor his hand, pushing her body toward the edge of control. Somehow they’d moved a few paces and now she felt the wall behind her, giving her support, as he relentlessly pleasured her. He lifted his mouth from her and caught her gaze. She knew what he would do now. He liked to watch her face as she reached completion.

  Her body wound tighter and tighter until she could not breathe or speak. He forced moan after moan from her until the tightness exploded within her and she arched against his hand over and over. Tolan’s fingers teased that small bud within the folds until she could do nothing but feel wave after wave and pleasure coursing through her body as her release happened.

  Tolan watched the way her eyes glazed over in passion as he stroked her deep and fast. Her body reacted in ways she probably did not even know, but he could see them and feel them. His hand between her legs grew wet with her arousal and the bud beneath his finger stiffened much like his own cock did.

  Her mouth grew rounder and she licked her lips as her body kept pace with his hand, rocking against him, demanding more and more. Then he brought her to release and those breathy gasps turned into a low, long moan as she surrendered to her release, screaming out in the quietness of her cottage.

  His body throbbed and ached for its own release, but this time was for her. It had been too long. Too many nights without being inside her body and finding that moment of joining and complete pleasure. He held her there, pressed against the wall, his hand sliding in gentle caresses as her body eased down from the height of passion. When she sighed, he smiled and kissed her one more time.

  “I have a perfectly comfortable bed right over there,” she said, nodding behind him.

  “Aye, you do.” He nodded as he spoke. “But I could not wait. It has been too many nights since I watched your face as I pleasured you.” A blush filled her cheeks that had just cooled down from her passion.