“You are your father’s son, and reflect the best of Master Tóla’s teachings. Yes, destiny guides you, though little I thought the poor creature I discovered in the cave so long ago could come so far. Never would I have thought that, by your leaving, I would grieve so much.”
Eagerness filled me. “Then sail with me. You can remain aboard in many forms, unnoticed—”
“No, my beloved. That I cannot do, though my heart yearns to follow you. Within the cave of the Tuatha I told you, my duty lies here. Souls must be reaped, and upon these shores I shall remain so long as a single Irishman remains loyal to the Sidhe.”
It would be a hard thing to leave her, though I knew I must. “Promise me, then, to someday meet me at Tír na nÓg.”
“Of course, my love. It is there beneath the magical Rowans we shall meet, though I feel it will be many years from today. There is something more, an important thing between us. We must…oh.”
Arms widespread, she raised her face skyward, as if listening to an unheard voice. “There is fighting in the lands of the Airgialla. Warriors have fallen. I must go. Promise to meet me here on the eve of your sailing.”
I nodded, and she disappeared within a glittering rainbow.
* * *
A pipe played somewhere, animating the dancers within the village center. Erc and his beastly cats were dead and word had quickly spread, sparking the celebration. Joy reigned within the small, festive gathering, but then again, it was a tiny village.
Beneath a cloudless sky, Brendan idled across the table from me, his flushed face little revealing the poisoning that should have killed him. Nevertheless, Tobias, ever the steadfast monk hovered over him, his worried eyes rarely leaving his beloved Father.
A smile lit the priest’s face as the dancers swirled about. “There is joy and richness among our people, and I shall miss them during our voyage.” He chuckled. “In my youth I was quite a dancer myself.”
“Then by all means, join them.” I chortled, sipping ale from my mug.
“Father Brendan will do no such shameful thing.” Folding his arms over his chest, Tobias scowled. “A man of his status—”
“Please, Brother,” Brendan interrupted. “Pride is sinful in the eyes of God. We are all equal in His eyes.
My apologies, father.” Tobias nodded. “You are right, of course.”
“Look,” I pointed and grinned. “Torcán and Goban have an audience. They’ve spoken of their adventures several times already, and each time their stories grow with the telling.”
Brendan chuckled and turned his attention to me. “We all stood out in the darkness and wondered about the fires on the mountain,” he muttered, his elbow resting on the table. “You’ve said little during the past two days, but it must have been a terrible thing that, confronting Erc as you did.”
His words washed past me as my foolish stomach rumbled in anticipation at the enticing aroma of broiling meat, fresh-baked breads and pastries. The ale must suffice while delicious aromas hovered in the air.
“It’s been in my thoughts to say more to you about it, and I will,” I admitted. “However, today is for relaxing and enjoying being alive. I’ll say this, though. Your Christian mysteries contain malevolent spirits more fearsome than any that ever before threatened these shores. Had it not been for the intervention of Jehovah himself, I would not be sitting here with you this day.”
“You called upon Him?” Tobias asked, his hands clasped beneath his chin.
“Aye. That I did.”
“Glory be.” His hand swept from his forehead to his chest as he made the sign of the cross. “God be praised.”
“Yes, may His Name be praised, but one moment.” Brendan frowned, waving a hand. “God and his son, Jesus Christ, bring love, kindness and understanding to the world. He offers everlasting life to those who follow Him. You imply there is evil in that?”
“Of course not. No doubt you are right in your high regard for Jehovah and his son.”
A sip of ale cooled my throat, the sun beamed agreement with my temperament. I stretched forth my legs, lazing in the pleasantries of the afternoon.
“It is a beautiful day, Brendan, and here we sit chattering away like old women.” The mug in my hand swept ’round the crowd. “Look about. The villagers enjoy themselves. No doubt they are smarter than the both of us.”
Brendan cocked an eyebrow. “You avoided my question. Why?”
“And why not? Breathe deep the fresh air, my friend. Feel the sun’s warmth on your face. It’s a fine day to be alive, isn’t it? What is past is past and we mustn’t cast a cloud upon this perfect day. Ah, now look.” I pointed. “Women are laying out the food.”
A grin spread across my lips as I rose, offering the priest a hand. “Come. Up with you, lazy priest. My stomach offers its apologies, but insists I see to its needs right away.”
* * *
Six days later, final preparations for the voyage were complete. On the eve of our sailing, my mind wandered as I took the trail above the village, anxious to fulfill my promise to the Morrigan.
During the past few days I shared with Brendan all that happened on the mountain. The importance of the arrival of the demon Sonneillon was not lost upon the priest. His comments about the Lordly Ones held my thoughts while I trekked up the narrow trail.
“I am overjoyed that you found God on the mountain,” he told me. “A true miracle though it was, you were mistaken in thinking your pagan gods joined you there to confront the demon. It is understandable why you believe as you do. You learned only pagan beliefs during your youth and Druid’s training. They are all you know.
“Listen to me and make no mistake, Ossian, for what I tell you is His Truth. There is One God, and He stood with you on the mountain long before you called upon Him. Consider this, for it explains what and who you encountered. The beings you saw were His emissaries—His angels, Saints, or perhaps both. I ask you: Is it only possible that the spirits your people have worshipped for generations are, in fact, God’s representatives?”
What manner of foolishness was that? Though I listened politely, I knew my gods well. Hadn’t I spoken with them many times? Did I not know and love the Morrigan? It seemed Jehovah held truths well beyond Brendan’s simple beliefs. Then again, how could I know Jehovah’s thoughts?
I chuckled as I remembered my father’s words. “Do not place over much reliance in the Lordly Ones; they can be a capricious lot.” It seemed the Christian god moved in ways to suit his own purposes as well.
Regardless, little I knew of Jehovah, though no doubt his will would prove as enigmatic as those of the Lordly Ones. Such busied my mind as I wound along the narrow path among the gorse.
If gods can hold all men in their hearts, why can’t men hold all gods in theirs? Perhaps that is a singular failing of men. Perhaps our hearts simply aren’t large enough to contain more than one faith. What a pity. I fear it will prove a bane for humanity throughout all time.
* * *
“Tomorrow you sail and your time upon our lovely island will come to an end. Are you saddened by it?”
She lay beside me upon our bed of leaves, the place of our lovemaking. Her question broke the spell of my daydream, one where I spent eternity lying there in her arms.
“In a way, of course.” I rolled over, facing her, my head propped in my hand as I stroked her hair. “Do you recall Socrates’ words? ‘Man’s life is like a drop of dew on a leaf.’ Think of it, Morrigan. Even though ephemeral, was not the dewdrop important to the leaf? Did it not for a brief, glittering moment combine with others of its kind to bring luster to the garden? Looking back, I made many mistakes and lost all here. Yet, it is as a dewdrop that I shall remember my life here.”
“It is a lovely sentiment, but what of tomorrow’s dew?”
“What of it? The future for this land is bright, I think, but my time will have passed. Other than you, no one will remain behind to long remember me.”
“Oh, but that is not true.” She sat upright and smiled down at me. “There will be one more. We must discuss our son.”
“Our sun? Belenos?” I glanced up, feeling the warmth on my face. “What possible—?”
“No, you foolish man. Not Belenos.” A breeze touched her hair as she chuckled. “I speak of our child, your son.”
Baile of the Honeyed Speech fled my mouth, leaving me speechless.
“Have you swallowed your tongue? Have you nothing to say about becoming a father?”
A father? I was to become a father? The voice emanating from my throat was unfamiliar, like that of a croaking frog. “I…that is… How old will he be?”
“How old? When he is born?” She snorted. “Have you lost your wits?”
“Yes!” Leaping upright with a whoop, arms crossed over my chest, my feet dancing a jig, I twirled ’round and ’round.
Laughter crinkled her nose, the sound of it like that of tinkling bells. “Yes, but he must have a name. We must speak of that before you leave, you know.”
A name? My head reeled, so I hurried to regain my seat beside her. I strove to calm myself, for naming a son was no small thing. The naming ritual would be required to ensure approval by the gods and good fortune for the child. It was a silly thought. A goddess sat beside me.
While my eager mind still searched for a name, she offered, “I think to call him Cáerthann, for it is beneath the Rowans we pledged to someday meet at Tír na nÓg.” Then, Morrigan spoke the words of Ogma in little more than a whisper.
Within the Grove stand the Peasant Trees, seven their numbers be,
The Birch, a well-known song of love,
The Alder, blesse’d healer’s glove,
The stately Rowan stands alone, evermore the diviner’s tree.
The noble Elm courageous, festooned with spearpoints of blood,
Unbelove’d Hawthorn, alas,
The Wild Cherry, a Fairy lass,
The bending Willow stands firm within mighty windstorms and flood.
Cáerthann. The name rolled around in my mind, a word some substituted for Rowan, and I nodded. “It is a fitting name. There is magic in the Rowan just as there is magic in a changeling child. Yes. I agree. Our son shall be called Cáerthann, son of Ossian, son of Ciann Mehigan, son of Gicrode.”
A smile touched her lips as she laid her hand upon my arm. “Wherever you may be, know that your son shall take large steps across this land.”
In that moment, my plans changed. “I will not go with Brendan. You have foreseen that if I sail with him, I shall never return. Now I have a choice. Lugh released me from my vow, so my first responsibility lies with our son now.”
“No, my love. You must go. We have spoken of this before. Eire undergoes a time of sweeping change and nothing remains here for you. Your future lies to the west with Brendan.”
“I am sick unto death of the sweeping change of which you speak, for it has stolen much from me. My entire family, friends, the future I hoped to enjoy are all gone now. Only you remain, and soon our son who I value above all things. I will not permit the damnable change upon this land to steal the two of you from me as well.”
“You will not permit it?” Her eyes grew large. “Perhaps you have forgotten the
Corcu Duibne?
Oh my Ossian, why would you think to throw your life away when it would do our son no good? The
Corcu
have sworn vengeance against you and demand blood for blood. Their warriors number in the thousands and they won’t stop coming until you are dead.”
“Nonetheless, here I will remain.”
“Do you think to benefit our son or your own stubborn self?”
Blood rushed to my face. Ah, sometimes she could be so annoying. “I think of holding my son in my arms. How can you ask me to turn my back upon him and sail away, never to return? What kind of father, what manner of man would not want to see his son grow tall beside him? Should I leave, Cáerthann would think his father a coward, and rightly so. No. I will stand before my enemies. My principles—”
She squeezed my arm, shaking it, her nails biting deep. “Who cares about your precious principles? Don’t you understand they don’t matter anymore? What matter principles while you lay dying with an arrow in your back? What’s more, if the Corcu find Cáerthann with you, they will kill him as well. Stand up to the enemy like a man you say, but I say this: Our son deserves a chance for life. You will not kill him while you defend your principles.”
“Morrigan, I understand your bitterness, but I would never endanger our son.”
“Go then. You may find my words bitter, but you know I speak the truth. Have you forgotten your friends Goban and Torcán? It is because of you they pledged to sail with Brendan. Would you abandon them? Or would they choose to remain here and die at your side?”
Once more destiny’s forces gathered ’round to form an inescapable trap. Yes, I was obligated to my friends as well. I could remain in Eire and die for no good purpose, or fulfill my vow to sail with Brendan, never to see my own son.
Knowing she was right, frustration welled within me upon realizing I had already lost my son. “In truth, I really never had a choice, did I?”
“No. I’m afraid not.”
“Very well, I shall go.” I stood, looking down at her. “However, in so doing I shall feel that my son is dead to me, and I dead to him before he is even born.”
“No, my love. It is merely your sadness at this moment that makes you say such things. Wherever you go, I know you will think of our son often, wonder about him, hold hope in your heart for him. And Cáerthann shall grow to know and love you through me for I will tell him of his father, the wise and courageous Druid who earned the everlasting respect of his gods.”
“You honor me, My Queen. Here, take this.” I removed the serpent ring from my finger and handed it to her. “Tell our son it belonged to me, and my father before me and his father before him. It’s a small inheritance, but give it to him when you see he has earned the right to wear it.”
Tears misted her eyes as she took the ring, and nodded.
“I leave it to you to tell Cáerthann of his heritage. Let him learn the knowledge of the old ones and the mysteries of the Druids. At last, permit him to be his own man as he strides forward into Eire’s future.”