by C.S. Fanning
leading his order into combat.
“Well met Riordan” Aeden greeted him, grinning with youthful exuberance that he had not felt in some time.
“Aeden, you are still lurking about with that oversized pig skinner I see” Riordan replied as they clasped hands.
The reunion was short lived however; as the druid that had come forward with Riordan was introduced and she began to weepily to ask about some children.
“There were some few people, including some children, not of Bretharc among those rescued, but we have not had the time to talk to them” Fianna informed her.
“Please, can someone take me to them?” she begged, tears openly streaming down her face. Aeden looked at Riordan, who nodded, and told the aging druidess to follow him. Together they skirted the felled oak, and in minutes were galloping down the road in pursuit of the fleeing refugees.
Riordan and Fianna led their respective groups at a more sedate pace, catching up and exchanging information about their adventures since they had parted ways. When Riordan was done explaining about the conclave she looked at him in surprise.
“And you appointed her to the high council after what she did?” she asked incredulous.
Riordan smiled ruefully. “You aren’t the first to doubt my decision on the matter. Sianna was forced to hide the truth because of some of the more archaic rules of our order. Rules I intend to see amended. Like many of our order she had lost faith; not just in our leaders, but also in the gods, justice, and all the other things that she had long held sacred. I am certain that what has transpired has restored her in a way that she shall not lose heart so easily again. After you and Aeden, and Finnis of course, she is my most trusted ally.”
Fianna wasn’t sure that she could have been so forgiving, but the order was now Riordan’s responsibility, just as Iollan and his men were hers. She was saved from confronting the meaning of that thought when they suddenly came upon the refugees. They had stopped to await the coming of the soldiers and druids. In the center of a knot of bystanders they could see Sianna kneeling, her arms wrapped around two young boys, professing her gratitude loudly to the people of Bretharc for watching over her grandchildren. Fianna knew that her praise and thanks were embarrassing to her people, not because they didn’t appreciate it, but because they had simply done what was right.
Fianna ordered their camp set up on the spot, and Riordan dispatched his druids to aid the people in any way that they could. He asked the leaders of each group to meet with him after everyone was settled and had a warm meal. Once everyone was busy bustling with their duties he pulled Aeden and Fianna to a fire away from the others.
“Before we plan for the future we have some bad news to deliver” he told them. None of them had looked forward to telling this tale, but it had to be done. Quinn’s family took the news quiet well, as well as anyone could. His father had held his mother as she cried and the older siblings comforted the younger.
As it turned out, Teagan’s father was far more animated and difficult to explain things too, and she was as safe as anyone could be in these trying times. He refused to believe that she was with Lord Donegal’s army and for a time was hysterically convinced that they were in some way deceiving him. Only when Curt came over and made him calm down did he finally stop behaving hysterically and hear out the rest of their story.
Aeden was relieved when finally they managed to extricate themselves from the gathering of people from his home who had all come to hear the story of their young heroes from the new High Druid and Fianna. Her account of how his father had played such an instrumental role in the rescue had Gareth blushing and stammering as he tried to sit up in a dignified manner despite his recent and humbling injury. Aeden himself had sat quietly through the telling. The villagers had eyed him suspiciously as he sat holding the sword that had played a crucial role in so much of the tale. The Morrighan was a soldier’s goddess, and farmers distrusted her at best.
The three found themselves in a war council of sorts straight away. Iollan was there along with Finnis, Sianna, and a man none of them knew who was the mayor of Longford, and to Aeden’s surprise his father attended as well. Gareth had to be propped up on some blankets but he acted as though his ordeal was nothing more than an exciting romp to share at a picnic.
“Dad, you should be resting” Aeden said moving over to sit near him.
“I’ll rest soon but as the duly elected representative of Bretharc Village, I am required to attend emergency planning meetings, and who better to keep an eye on me and my health than three druid adepts?” His father asked.
Aeden had little time to ponder his father’s elevation in the community however; for no sooner had he gotten settled than the meeting was begun. Riordan began by explaining that what was happening locally was just part of what was happening on the world stage. A few of the happenings that Riordan had discovered in distant lands were news even to him, and he was quickly caught up in the narrative.
When Riordan finished, the mayor of Longford stood looking angrily at Aeden, and demanded to know if he and his people were going to be compensated for the loss of their homes and livelihoods. He was incensed that their town was now at the bottom of a lake. He was growing more and more agitated, and Aeden was waiting on either the commander or one of the older druids to intervene, but no one moved. He was about rise and confront the man himself when Riordan took charge.
“You expect damages?” How about your responsibility to the village of Bretharc and your complicity in a foreign invasion? If we are defeated, the king will no doubt try you as traitors and if we are victorious your damages are an act of war or technically an act of the gods” Riordan said angrily.
“He was the one that dammed the river!” he said, pointing at Aeden as he shouted the accusation so violently that spittle flew from his lips.
“Exactly” Riordan said, clearly trying to turn the conversation to more important matters.
“Blasphemy! This upstart is no god or even the bastard progeny of one” he screamed.
Aeden moved to rise, but before he could Riordan was on his feet, his staff glowing brightly with a sheen of unmistakable power. “Who are you to question accuse the High Druid of blasphemy? You, who know nothing, accept how to talk your own people out of a fat and cushy life. Hold your tongue and your crime may yet be forgiven, speak again and I will pronounce judgment!” Riordan returned in a voice made harsh with barely repressed rage. Aeden was impressed; his soft-spoken friend’s voice had taken on the hard edge of one whose resolution was absolute.
The mayor of Longford sat down in a huff. Aeden could tell that he was a man used to getting his way and unaccustomed to being ordered to silence. Riordan’s outburst of righteous anger had put an end to his ill-advised complaining, but Aeden felt certain that he was someone on which they needed to keep watch. His tirade had diverted the meeting from its real purpose, which was to plan for the care of the refugees and explain to inform everyone present of the steps underway to secure the kingdom.
There was much discussion of how to proceed; how to divide their forces, and which paths to take, and almost everyone had a different idea. Fianna felt that their first duty was the to the refugees, but Finnis iterated that unless the war was ended soon and in their favor the entire north would soon be refugees, just as those in the south were enslaved to a tyrant and his foreign bullies.
The discussion went back and forth, seeming to go nowhere until Aeden felt a pull at his shoulder. Gareth was pulling himself to his feet. So far he had said nothing, but now it was clear that he intended to speak. “Listen to me, all of you. You seem to think that we of Bretharc are helpless victims, but you have no idea of what we are capable of. I need no more than four days ration and two able bodied men to aid those of us who will be defending the village should it come to that. There is food and shelter in Bretharc and if the battle draws close we have the advantage of knowing our homes and land
s if we must avoid the king’s men. Take the rest of your forces and go put an end to this!”
It was a bold speech and none there gathered could bring themselves to argue. Fianna clearly didn’t want to leave them behind once more, but the demands of the entire kingdom outweighed the needs of one village. There was some muttering, but in all it was accepted that if the village leader suggested the plan, concerns for their safety could not be used to justify refusing it.
That was the moment that Aeden noticed the absence. The old fat mayor of Longford was no longer among them. There horses at the far end of the encampment were making excitable noises as Aeden bolted from the meeting and ran that way. He wasn’t sure how or why but he felt almost as if the horse were answering his silent question about the Longford man’s whereabouts.
Even in the deepening gloom of the night Aeden could just see the man clambering onto Aeden’s own horse, and he was incensed. He couldn’t let the man get away! He was surely planning to sell out their people with his knowledge of their plans, and it was imperative that he not make contact with the enemy. Before he could shout a warning to the guards posted around the encampment, the horse suddenly started bucking wildly as though it had gone mad, and