Blazing Earth (12 page)

“Make sure he will be safe, Tolan. I would not want him harmed or hurt because he could not wake,” she urged him.

Tolan walked out to move the guard off the path and Thea banked the fire in her hearth, preparing to leave. Gathering up the rest of the food and a skin of water and one of ale, she pulled her cloak on and tugged the hood up to cover most of her. When Tolan returned, she was ready.

“Come,” he said, holding out his hand.

She accepted it without hesitation. In spite of her arguments and reasons against marrying this man, Thea doubted not that her future was interwoven with his even as their hearts were. Until they sorted out the changes happening to them, they must work together. What part the others played in this, she knew not. Her place was at his side.

They made their way to the horses he'd arranged and walked them until they were outside the village and away from the cottages and crofts. Mounting, they rode swiftly north, along the road that followed the path of the river. By the time the sun rose in the morning, they approached Tolan's lands in Durrington.

And within a short time, it was clear to her that something was here that was at the center of all the strange happenings. Something . . . or someone lived on Tolan's lands and it was not human or animal.

Tolan dismounted and helped Thea down from her horse. His cousin stood outside the cottage and greeted them.

“Good day, Farold,” Tolan called out to him. “You know Elethea from the village?”

“Good day, Elethea,” Farold said, nodding to her as he took hold of the reins of the horses. “What brings you here, Tolan?”

“I wanted to show her around the farm,” Tolan said. “Before the spring planting.” If Farold thought it strange that they arrived in early morn or that they arrived at all, he said nothing. A raised brow was his only reaction. But Farold was both practical and unassuming—his only concern was that he be allowed to serve as caretaker when Tolan could not be here.

“I am going to the village to bring back some supplies, Tolan. I should be back by nightfall. There is porridge in the pot if you have not broken your fast.”
Farold nodded and went off, leading the horses to the trough and then leaving them alone.

“Does he work your farm alone?” Thea asked as they watched his cousin ride off toward the village.

“Most of the time,” he said. “During planting and harvest, others help him. Come inside now.”

The winter's chill still held on tightly here and the cold, moist air covered the ground around them. Their breaths came out as clouds, hot dissipating into the cold. A few minutes by a fire with something hot to eat and drink would be welcome, Tolan was certain.

They had spoken little along the way, both intent on the road ahead of them while traveling under the dim light of a half-moon. Though, truth be told, Tolan could have found his way here blindfolded or in the pitch-darkness of a new moon.

Thea entered and went directly to the fire to stir the pot. She did not first put her hands out to warm them as he wanted to and he realized that she glowed brighter, her heat spreading through the cottage. Tolan walked behind her and wrapped his arms around her.

“This could have some benefits on cold winter days,” he whispered as her heat seeped into his cold body.

Tolan dipped his head and tucked his chin between her shoulder and her neck, kissing her there. She was at ease with him touching her as long as they were alone. One day, she would more easily accept his caresses no matter who was there. No matter that she allowed it, Tolan could feel the agitation in her.

“Corann said I am a sunblood,” she whispered
without looking at him. “I am
the
sunblood.” Now she turned and met his gaze. “What would he call you?”

She was angry. He could feel it rippling through her and saw it as the golden aura flickered around her body. She resented that he'd withheld knowledge from her about their true natures and abilities . . . and his family's ties to the Old Ones. He chose to answer her question for now. Explanations would come as they were needed.

“Earthblood.”

The word echoed in the space between them now. He had never spoken the word aloud, nor heard his father or grandfather speak it. But the one who had called to him from the dark woods had.

“Ah, it makes sense, does it not? Your gift with nature, the soil, and growing things. Of the earth,” she said. “Why Farold can tend this whole farm by himself . . . or rather the farm can tend itself?” Her gaze narrowed. “You have known your whole life of this?”

“Nay. Only when I reached fifteen years and my blood came alive with it.”

“Fifteen? Kirwyn is nearly that.”

“I wait to see if he has inherited this . . . affinity with the earth. There is only one in each generation, or so my father and his father before him believed.”

“And if it is not him, Tolan? What then?” she asked. A strange expression lit her eyes now. He could not decipher it.

“If it is not him, it will be another of my sons or daughters,” Tolan said. There were stories of a daughter being favored with this gift in the past. He knew
also that he would have children with Thea. He had no doubt of it now knowing their connection to the Old Ones. It was as though fate had put them together here in Amesbury.

“So you must have children?”

“I want more children, Thea. Like any man does. To help me work these lands and pass onto them for their lives. Do you not wish to be a mother?” As he watched, she steeled her expression first before nodding.

“More than anything in the world, Tolan. More than anything.” Her words carried such depth of want and need it nearly knocked him over.

Then Thea turned and walked to the fire once more and the shimmer around her changed. Bending down, she swung the iron hook out and looked inside the pot. Scooping some water in the nearby bucket into a cup, she added it to the porridge and stirred it to ease out the clumps. Then she pushed the mixture back over the flames so it would heat. Tolan walked to the shelf next to the hearth and took down two bowls and handed them to her.

Here, in this house, in this way, he could imagine them together. Loving and living out the rest of their lives here. Tending to each other and to the lands. As though mocking him and his hopes, the earth shuddered then. Thea faced him in shock as the ground beneath them shook.

“Can you feel that?” he asked. She nodded. So it was not just him this time. “It happened when we passed by here last week. And then I heard . . . a voice.” He grabbed her hand and led her outside. The rumbling
came from the woods once more, as it had done before. “From there,” he said, pointing to the large, thick wooded area across the fields near the edge of the river.

“I will bank the fire,” she said, turning back. He nodded and went to get the horses. Although not rested, they would be able to take them across the fields to the henge there.

Tolan helped her up and then mounted his horse, touching his heels to its side to urge it forward. The animals grew more skittish with every league closer that they came to the earthen henge encircling the woods. By the time they'd reached the first rise of the henge, they'd slipped off the horses and pulled them along.

“Who built this?” Thea asked as they began walking up the embankment. Higher than Tolan's height, it surrounded the woods like a fence.

“No one knows. Stories of it have been passed down in my family,” he said.

“It is like those henges to the west, then?” she asked, walking up the hill of packed earth. “But no standing stones?” They reached the top and could see across the huge area within it. “And much, much larger.”

“I think there are stones buried in the center of those trees.” Another admission to her. The next in what he thought might be a never-ending chain of words he'd never thought to say. Tolan trusted her. “And more lying buried under this.” He pointed at the hill on which they stood.

Her eyes grew wide as she followed the path of it around and around the huge enclosed area before
them. It was larger than even the abbey and its surrounding land. She shook her head in disbelief and reached out for him, clasping his hand in hers.

“What is it?” Thea asked him. “What could have been in this place?” She turned and stared at him then. “What is your family's involvement here?”

“We have been caretakers of these lands, Thea.” He waved his hand over the lands under their eyes. “We have guarded it and worshipped the Old Ones, bringing fertility and prosperity to all the generations of my family.”

She trembled as he spoke and he realized it was that voice again. Not the one from the woods, but the one that felt as though another spoke from within his body. He'd spoken in it before to her, but he could feel it flow like the power he carried in his blood now.

“For eons,” he said, “the faithful worshipped in this place and others like it. Festivals to celebrate the plentiful harvests. Ceremonies to honor the gods. Rituals to ensure fertility of man, beast, and fields. All here. Surrounded by the stones. Blessed by the gods.”

“Where is it now?” she whispered, yet fearful of him. He could hear it in her voice and see the way her body quivered.

“All buried beneath us and hidden safely out of view,” he said. “Until it is needed.”

Tolan stopped and listened and felt.

Someone was coming. Not one but many.

On horseback. Charging toward them. Armed.

Led by that man. His power preceded him.

“I feel it, Tolan,” Thea said, turning in the
direction of those who were coming. “Is that what you felt from him?”

“Aye,” Tolan said.

The glow around her became like the sunlight on a cloudless day, so bright that he could not see her body within it. The power of the other one seemed to call forth theirs.

“Thea, it is not safe here. Come,” he said, walking down the hill to the edge of the thick, entangled trees there.

Whatever existed beneath or within these lands was powerful, too. So powerful it might block the man's ability to find them. They reached the trees and Thea gasped. The trees were alive, swarming and snarling like snakes at their approach. Tolan shook his head.

“Be not afraid, love,” he whispered. “They will not harm you.”

At his words, the trees gentled and parted for her. Tolan walked at her side, following the ever-widening path deeper and deeper into the copse. The trees adjusted around them, covering over their heads while moving out of their way. Finally, they arrived at a place close to the center of it and Tolan nodded, pleased that they understood his will.

“They will protect you, Thea. Stay within until I call you.”

“But, Tolan, he is dangerous. You cannot face him alone.” She touched his hand and then his face. “I cannot lose you.”

“You will not,” he said, leaning to kiss her. “I will
remain out of sight to see what he does. And I will be back.”

“How will you hide? As one of those trees?” she asked as he began to walk away.

“Nay, not this time. The earth is pulling me to it, so I will . . .”

Tolan dropped to his knees as he did during the ritual, but this time he became one with the soil, his body fading and losing itself into the ground. He heard Thea's gasp of shock but continued to move away from her, under the deep roots of the trees that formed the barrier there.

Earthblood, I am here! Come back!

Though it was a woman's voice, it was not Thea's. And instead of coming from above the ground, it came from deep in the earth. As he turned and concentrated on it, he felt the edge of something he could not penetrate. Like a stone wall that extended without boundaries toward the center of the earth. And all he could feel was black desolation emanating from it.

He would come back to learn more about this chasm, but first he must discover the purpose of the man who carried the bloodline of . . . fire. Heat but not like Thea's. This heat destroyed. This heat incinerated with pain and chaos.

Not like Thea's healing light.

Tolan reached the embankment and stayed within it as the troop reached his lands and crossed onto the protected land. He needed to learn more about this man, this invader, so that he could protect Thea and
the lands to which his own life had been sworn to serve.

So he waited for his arrival.

*   *   *

Thea watched in wonderment as Tolan disappeared into the earth. His body did not burrow into the ground; it became the ground. She could feel his presence there and as he moved away from her. As she took a step to follow him, the trees closed her path. The branches spread and tangled until they appeared more wall than tree.

When she turned back toward the center of it all, nothing barred her way. She walked along, watching, as the trees opened and allowed her to pass until she reached a huge clearing. There Thea's body began to shake as some force moved over her.

She looked around the site and saw nothing but the open space. Were there stones buried here? A circle of them that held great meaning or power? Thea walked around the perimeter of the field, studying the ground for any signs that others had been here before.

Tolan's family must have visited this place before. He spoke of it as though he had. Wandering to one end, she finally found something—a small stone that seemed to mark the place where it lay. She crouched down to see it more closely and reached out to touch it.

Smooth, worn, and with no signs of carving or decoration, the stone would have fit in the palm of her hand. It wobbled slightly as she ran her fingers over it, loose and not embedded in the ground as she
thought it was. So Thea picked it up and held it up to looked at it more closely. It began to make a noise, like the humming of insects and then like the chiming of church bells.

When Thea glanced around her, everything was different.

Where the ground had been empty before her, now there was a smaller circle of eight tall stones to the north and a larger one of more than twenty stones to the south. But they both fit within the huge place surrounded by shorter ones. She tried to count them and lost count. There were so many. Another raised bank of earth lay within the first one and then a ditch, both nearer to her than the stones were. And where the single stone had lain, where she stood now, was the doorway to a small building.

Shaped like a triangle, the sides of it were buried in the ground and its roof was of sod. With a frame made of thick tree trunks and an open doorway into it, it was not a dwelling but seemed more a gathering place. More tree trunks spread out from its corners and opened onto the space before her, guiding her attention to the other circles.

And the people who stood waiting.

Hundreds stood in silence along the walkway between this building and the smaller circle of eight. How had they gotten there? How was she seeing this? They seemed to be looking at her, but when she heard voices behind her, she knew they weren't. Turning and stepping out of the doorway, she saw the small group within. Men and women, all dressed in the same type
of white ankle-length woolen tunics, moved in circles around a young woman and a young man.