Sanctuary for a MordSith

by dafydd

I hope this finds some favor in the community. A possible tale of what happened to Denna after Richard refused to kill her. It does bring in elements from another world. Dedicated to Jessica Marais, inspired by "How to Fall in Love with a Mord-Sith".

"Fear not the waking world, my mortal"

words from a poem that will not be written for nearly one thousand six hundred years

His children's cries will bring a man back from the thickest fog of sleep.

"Da, da, come help the lady! Da!"

It was 'brina, my daughter. I had never heard her sound like this, so frantic and unnerved. My son Blodyn's little voice echoed her in a high, shrill cry. I ran into the light of the red rising sun and pulled up, for a moment stiff and cold. I'd known she was coming last night. I'd stayed up nearly the night through. There was something dangerous and injured coming through the dark, slowly moving nearer to us, so damaged that I could not feel if it was human or not. Now she lay on the ground before me with my children hovering, fearlessly innocent, over her. A girl of twelve, a boy of eight.

" 'brina, Blodyn, into the hut, quickly, run! Now!"

In perfect harmony, and with no more concern for themselves than if they were asking for an extra serving at meal, they sang to me a plaintive, "Daaaaa?" By the Mother, I've shown these children too much of the world. They have more faith in me than I do or than they should. They stand in expectation of my care.

"Father!" demands 'brina, "She'll die, help her!"

I move over her. Why what I'd known in the night had been so confusing now makes sense to me. She lay on her stomach, her head twisted to one side, her face in the dewy grass. The dew has turned the dirt on the back of her leather clothing to a slime of mud. Her hair runs down her the length of her back in the dreaded braid, blonde hair speckled with blood, no doubt the blood is her own. Her face is swollen and beaten. Some might find her a beauty, but never now. There is no way to take her pulse at her wrist, covered in leather. The pull of the braid leaves her temple clear and I touch a finger there. Life. There is the pulse and heat of her life. For a hateful moment, I wonder if it wouldn't be better for us all, even her, if it was otherwise. I have a sword in the hut and using it is a temptation. She'd never feel it and her misery would be silently over, but that's not why I was placed here. Going to both knees next to her, the fingers of my right hand on her temple, I swallow deeply, brace myself, and press my fisted left hand against the ground. What floods up my arm from the Mother is nearly unbearable. For all I have come to know since I came to their land, I am not prepared for this. Who are these people that they would shape such a creature to their purpose? In no other land, not in our western home, not in the unknowable east, have I seen such cruelty. Her story burns its way through my fist, my arm, my heart. I start Knowing her. I know the child she was before they took her and broke her. A Sister of the Mord-Sith now, I Know what she has been and done. It's impossible to believe it now, seeing her lying there unconscious, for the time helpless, for the time harmless. Her entire being is a ruthless weapon. I Know who it is that is after her. Everywhere in the world there are these lords, petty rulers. Darken Rahl, this woman's master, this woman's creator, doesn't impress or scare me. I know what he would do to her, though, if he finds her and I clench in horror. For a hateful moment, I don't know why the thought even bothers me. Doesn't she deserve it? She's done as much to others. Then I Know the sound of a twelve year old girl, a girl my 'brina's age, laughing at play. It's this woman before they took her as a girl, before they raped and tortured and beat her. They killed her mother before her eyes, the first act of destroying her. I Know what was left of her when, with neither feeling nor hesitation, she murdered her own father at Darken Rahl's whim, the act of her final denigration. Like my little Sabrina, I know she was like her. Could they turn my own loving girl to murder me? I want to pull my fist from the Mother's earth but she holds it there and makes me Know these things. Then her voice sooths my arm and she tells me what she needs from me.

"You know what I expect of you, Dafydd ap Cymru. Know that neither this one, nor he who pursues her, can harm you or your children. You are safe because of what you know from me. They have no power you need fear. But you must know that if you heed me, the pain they might have caused you will be nothing compared to the heart ache you will need to go through for her. Give her sanctuary and she can regain enough of herself that, when the time comes, she will have strength to do what she must to come to a peaceful end. Only that, you must never believe this can be otherwise. You have been prepared for it. You have seen the bright beam of your wife's life come to death, now you will see a dark star fade to an end. Do this and you will be spared knowing the loss of a child. You will move your own life a step toward fulfillment. Everything to know beyond this is nothing. Take this one lying before you, and do what I ask."

I have but one word and I hiss "Why?"

"That you can never hope to know, you could never hope to take that "why" to your knowing, not you, nor any who walk above me. Perhaps when all lie in my bosom, some few may be able, perhaps you will be one. You will, after all, be the one who performed the act."

No one ever wants to hear this answer.

Resolved, I break off from the ground and take my finger from her temple. I turn her onto her back and get my arms under her. She is as lifeless as a human being can be as I slowly take her off the ground. Why did they beat her like this and then let her go? I couldn't know that yesterday when I felt she was being beaten. These two, this Richard and the woman Kahlan, are supposed to be the good ones in this world. To me they seem little better than the dark one. I move her as easily as possible, still, as beaten and bruised as she is, it's hard to believe she doesn't wake up. She is silent, barely breathing, as I move her through the hut and lay her on my bed. What will she be like when she does wake up? Not that I need worry. I can take care of her and keep 'brina and Blodyn safe. My own safety is not so clear and I'm not so brave. I know much, too much, of what she's done and been, this Mord-Sith devotee of Darken Rahl.

Still, I wonder what she will be like when she wakes up. Is it possible to reconcile the ways we usually know those around us with what I know of her? What will her voice sound like, this woman who has tortured so many? Is she polite, this woman who has killed so often? What does she talk about, this woman who has stolen daughters from their mothers to suffer her fate? We need desperately to believe people such as her will be utterly other than us, to be instantly recognizable as what they are, reassuring us that we could never be like them, and it is our worst realization to know they are not at all unlike us. When does what we do so overwhelm what we are that what we are loses meaning? Unconscious, at my mercy and in my arms, looking at her, it is easy to believe, and strongly need to believe, that there is something of her that is not explained by the terror she's spun. That need is especially deep in a fool.

"What are you doing, da?" Sabrina challenges me. I've pulled off her gloves and boots, and started to unlace the woman's collar and belt.

"I can tend her much better out of these leather clothes, 'brina. They're too tight and too stiff. I'm undressing her."

She assumes a very knowing attitude, clasping her hands behind her back. A thoughtful look crosses her face and she hums and nods her approval. With great gravity she approves .

"Yes, of course, just so."

I realize Blodyn is hiding behind my right leg, only peeking around to see what he must. He tugs at my leggings. "What is she, da? Why is she dressed like that?"

"She's a warrior, Blodyn. Her leather clothes are her armor and her uniform. Here, there is a very fierce company of women trained into a group to serve the ruler of this land. They are the Sisterhood of the Mord-Sith."

'brina's not impressed.

"Mord-Sith is a stupid name."

"They may think our language is stupid when they hear it."

"Well, that's because they're stupid. Why is her hair in that braid? It's not so pretty."

"It's so they will always know who their sisters are. Why don't you two help by undoing the braid? Let her hair loose."

'brina jumps to that. She starts freeing the woman's hair.

"But in our land, da, the women always stand and fight with the men."

"Yes, 'brina, but we're not in our land. If only we were. How I do wish we were."

I'm pleased at how gently they undo her braid, holding her head still, not wanting to hurt her.

"Me, too." agrees Blodyn. "I don't like it here."

Sabrina gasps. "Oh, father, what did they do to her? Who would beat somebody like this, da? Why?"

I've worked her out of her leather clothes enough to see how badly bruised her ribs are. Her right breast is barely discernable; blood still trickles from her nose. She's naked now and I suppose she's still breathing. I pull a blanket over her.

"Come to the table, you two."

I take my seat and pat my left thigh.

"Blodyn, up here, my little champion. And you here, Sabrina."

Blodyn jumps up to sit on my thigh and Sabrina snuggles in against me. I decide to be blunt and plain.

"They beat her because she deserved it. She's done the same and worse to others. She serves a man who is crueler even than the blonde sea raiders who attack us from their dragon boats. She serves him without thought and without mercy. The people who beat her are trying to bring something good to this land, I think they are, and she was sent to stop them. They beat her but wouldn't kill her, I don't know why. She failed her master and now he is after her to destroy her. I, we, were placed here to be here when she came and to take her in. I know we all want to be home. You couldn't understand why I took days to build this hut instead of just pitching tent. Why I had to select this circle of oaks and hollies and yew trees for our safety. I couldn't answer because I didn't know why myself. I can tell you that after this, we go home. It's the last thing I was sent to do."

Sabrina cuts to her own answer to the problem, "Why help her if she's so bad? Why don't we just chop her head off and put it up on a stake outside the door, like we would back home? She's not staying with us is she? "

"No heads are coming off here. 'brina, I'm trying to tell you that I don't know why. I asked the Mother the same question. She said I could never hope to understand why. She wouldn't tell me what's to happen to the woman. She said I couldn't bear knowing it. She just asked that I do it. If I, no, if we, give her strength back to her then she would come to…as good an end as possible. I'm asking you two to be good and help me."

I wish I really had some idea what I was talking about.

"Yeah, 'brina.", pipes in Blodyn. "Maybe the Mother's tired of being soaked in blood all the time."

'brina leans in and kisses my cheek.

Sudden smiles appear on their faces. "Eeewwwww!", they shriek in notes high, flat, shrill and dissonant. Sabrina's hand darts over and tags Blodyn. "You're it, weasel face!" She streaks to, and out of, the door with Blodyn in hot pursuit. "I'll get you! You're slower than a herd of turtles, badger brain." They're gone. I turn and bury my face in my hands. I'm so tired. We've been away from home almost a year and now this. I nearly fall asleep and then a convulsion comes from the bed, from her, one violent seizure. Please, be dead, I think. Do one decent thing in your life and die, leave us alone. I walk over and turn down the blanket. Her breath is coming in short gasps, strong but desperate, the breath of dying people. With luck I could just drag her out in the morning and bury her. If it wasn't for the children, I'd just leave her to the carrion eaters. I take no joy in wishing her dead and I take no solace in knowing that her death would remove the burden of her from me. I just want this to be over quickly.

I walk out into the sunlight. I feel I have to keep track of what is happening always, no matter how sure I am of our safety in the tree circle. Even knowing that there is another measure in place should the circle fail us doesn't put me at ease. I sit next to the door and lean back on the wall of the hut. From here I can keep track of outside and inside, Blodyn and Sabrina playing, the woman and her pursuers. Unless I fall asleep.

The sound that brings me back to bare awareness is my eight year old son recounting his life story to someone.

"Hi, my names Blodyn, what's yours? In our language Blodyn means "flower". That's my sister, 'brina. It's really Sabrina, but I hate her so I call her "brine". That's nasty water. In our land Sabrina is the water goddess, so it's funny."

The significance of what I'm hearing doesn't strike me.

"She thinks my name is stupid for a boy but I like it. It sounds like "blood". Our mother died or she'd be here and help take care of you. Her name was Seren. That means "star". Where are your mom and dad?"

And then Sabrina's voice.

"Are you mean like da says? Because if you are, I'm going to cut your head off and put it on a stake."

I hear a woman taking down deep gulps of air. Now, in a rush I realize what is happening and what I'm hearing. She's awake and my children are calmly making her acquaintance! I can't leave them alone with that. I scramble onto my feet and stumble through the door, crashing to my knees in my half-consciousness. The woman jumps to her feet. The blanket falls to the ground and suddenly she stands before us naked. She cracks her voice on a scream. Her eyes are full of tears and her face is taught with the pain of her injuries. As I rise onto my feet, I hook the blanket in one finger, bring it up with me and cover her. She pulls it around herself and collapses back onto the bed.

"Where are my clothes? What did you do with my clothes? Who are you that you would dare take me?"

Her voice is deeper than I would have thought. It's cold and demanding, expectant of obeisance.

"We were trying to help you and make you feel better." says Blodyn. "Don't be mad."

"Blodyn! Step back, boy. I took your clothes off of you. I needed to tend your bruises and cuts."

Her face becomes pure contempt for me.

"And what else did you do to me while you had me naked?" she spits at me.

If hatred alone could kill, her life would have ended that moment, but a raging calm comes over me.

"Blodyn, Sabrina, go outside for a minute."

"What are you going to do, take me again? Don't want the children to see?"

"Outside, both of you, now."

Sabrina struts across the room crossing in front of her, examining her like a great queen would. She stops in front of her, facing her, feet spread, fists on hips, then, wagging her finger in her face, "Just as my mother was, I will be a great witch. You had better not be mean to my da or I'll turn Athrogoc loose on you, and she'll stick her talons through your heart and chew your head off for dinner, then she'll feed the rest of you to her hatchlings."

Calmly, no, regally, she continues out of the door. Her entourage, her little courtier brother follows her. The woman is silenced into open mouthed disbelief.

"My daughter." I say. "As she says, she takes after her mother."

"I hate her, stupid little girl."

"Shut up."

"Who are you to tell me…"

"Shut up! Listen to me very carefully."

"To some raggy, little man with his pathetic, raggy children? Never. Do you realize who I am and what I am?"

I walk at her slowly and slowly her head rises in defiance, but her eyes turn to fear. In the old stories, the first ones to live in our land were the cewri, giants. From my family's myths, I know their blood flows in our veins. I know that is what she sees in me now.

"Listen to me. Never talk like that in front of my children, never again. Talk to them only with the greatest courtesy you possess in what's left of your soul. Never say such a thing about me again. Never accuse me of rape. Your shit-pot of a lord may do such things, but I would never. None of the Cymry would ever. I was asked to be here when you came so that I could give you sanctuary, to help you, and I will, if I have to kill you in doing it."

"Sent here? Sent here by whom? You? Kill me? I'm not afraid of your killing me. Stupid, little man, I welcome death. I begged a man to kill me yesterday. Hurt me? Please do try. Pain means nothing to me. You have no threat I fear, no way to control me, and when my master hunts me down, you and your children will be sorry you were born. Your wife will be the lucky one. Get me my clothes. I'm leaving here."

"You give bad answers, girl. You ask to die, pain is nothing, and you talk about your pathetic lord as if he were your savior rather than your executioner."

"Don't call me girl! When my master comes, you'll see who is pathetic. You and your children will be the ones to beg for death. Then you can be with your dead wife again. Give me my clothes, I'm leaving."

"No. You're not leaving. You have no power here. Neither you nor your lord and master have any power here. Look twice and closely before you measure me and test me. Your master sucks his power from a sulfurous gash in the dirt. My power comes from the entire earth. It's strengthened in knowledge and from knowing what the earth tells me, not from wizard's tricks and laughable magic. He can do nothing here and neither can you. You cannot hurt me. He cannot hurt me, harm my children, or take you, and you cannot leave."

It's not at all so that she can't hurt me.

She laughs, haughty and dismissive.

"Your power? What are you talking about? What power can you have? Look at you, you shabby nothing."

I laugh with growing strength and confidence. My leggings are patched and torn, my tunic worn and dirty, but I know my power.

"Well, then leave."

I go and grab the leather clothes she wore when we found her and throw them at her feet.

"Here are your clothes. Put them on and leave then, girl."

"Don't call me girl. I will leave."

"Leave then. The door's open. There are just my raggy children out there. Surely a Mord-Sith can get by a raggy, little man and his children. "

She takes in her situation. Her eyes glare with intelligence, wasted intelligence. She doesn't like it that I know what she is. Her injuries are taking their toll. She starts to shrink into a little scared thing.

"I am leaving."

"You're not."

"I…I…I…what are you doing to me?"

"You shouldn't fear what I'm doing. You should be afraid that you might be rash enough to say anything hateful about my children or my wife again because I will kill you to protect them or kill you just because you are so very inconvenient and annoying. I don't care if you're afraid of it or not. I'm not going to use threats to control you. I can, and will, just remove you. You are not leaving because I have the power to make things not happen, and, so, you can't leave, and your master can't hurt you, my daughter, my son, or me. He can't even find us here."

"What?"

"You're not leaving because I have the power to make things not happen. I'm going to make you not leave, that's all. We all have our gifts, no? Mine is to make things not happen. Look."

I go across the room and reach up into the roof braces. I pull down a scabbard from its hiding place and draw my sword. I offer her the hilt. "Here, take it. Use it. You're the only one armed."

She grabs it out of my hands. It's obvious she knows well how to use it, but she just stares at me, at the blade, unable to strike.

"See. You can't do it. I'm making you not do it."

"What are you talking about? This isn't…you can't…What do you mean, make things not happen?"

I'm exhausted to point of delirium. I slump into a chair at the table and begin babbling just to stay awake. I never sleep any more, not for a long time, certainly not since we reached this land of D'Hara.

"Most people think it a modest skill but really it's quite useful. Saves all manner of trouble, used wisely. With more training and practice, I'll be able to make almost anything that's reasonable not happen. I was such a lazy, daydreamy boy that it was clear that I could wield the power to make nothing happen particularly well. Not like the sunrise not happening or anything, of course. I wonder why I didn't make you not come here? Oh, I was asleep when you came. Of course! And the Mother did tell me to take care of you. That's always a complication. If you let one thing happen, other things have to follow. It's such a messy web to work through sometimes. That's where I really need to hone the skill. And all the arrangement makes it too hard to use urgently, in trouble. I'm often glad I'm not one of those that can actually make things happen. There are only a few of those left. Awesome responsibility that. Most of those who can make things happen, don't really want to. I…I…philosophers argue, tell us, there's no line between things not happening and making things…I…don't…"

I realize she's shivering as if in a terrible, fevered chill. She looks like she's disappearing, slowly turning to nothing. She turns the sword and extends the hilt to me. She whispers, barely audible, hoarse and horrible "Kill me."

It's sickening. I take the sword, admiring it as a way of not looking at her. My words are slow coming and without feeling.

"Very fine sword, this. Modest in appearance, but deadly, takes a great edge. I've used it, too. Three men. Sea raiders. It was quick but terribly ugly. Of course, you'd know about that. Blood everywhere. We don't even know where they come from, somewhere out of the north. They attacked us and I killed them and we threw them into the sea. I wonder if they had women and children back wherever they lived."

I rise and insert my sword into the scabbard.

"No. I won't be the one that kills you. I can swear that. Trust that now. I know I won't now. Although it would be a relief were you to just drop dead. But I'm not here to kill you or hurt you. I hate this so. I just want to be home in our mountain valley."

I feel tears. I don't cry. Only once have I ever cried. I want her to see it, to see the tears. I go to our baggage and pull out a spare tunic of mine.

"Here. This won't fit so well, but it may keep you warmer, a bit. All my clothes are pretty well done in. I really am a raggy little man about now, aren't I? Lie down, rest. I'm going to fetch in the little ones."

She sits, staring blankly, and pulls the blanket up. I start out the door but stop and turn back to her. I intend to ask her name but don't. Isn't it strange what things we decide are better left unknown? I don't want to know her name. Rather, strangely, I approach her with all the dignity I can hold myself in, place my right hand on my heart, and bow to her, graciously.

"I am sorry if it was terribly painful when my children asked about you mother and father. They don't know."

She looks up at me and suddenly seems no more an object of hate and fear than 'brina or Blodyn.

"You know?" she asks.

"I know. I know a great deal. Knowing is where my power comes from though, so I haven't much choice. I just don't know why. I am so sorry for you."

She's asleep.

Dying for the evening's freshness, I walk out into the open air. I find Sabrina and Blodyn curled up together, leaning against an oak tree, soundly sleeping. I carry them in turn into their beds. They don't make a peep. I laugh to think how right the woman is, we are a sorry lot of raggy, little creatures. Blodyn is wearing a tunic that had been Sabrina's dress when we started a year ago. I'm sure it's some color like blue but mostly it's pale and faded. All our clothing is reduced to a brown, dirt brown even though we washed it often. Sabrina used scraps and rags to make a tunic and leggings to replace the dress months ago. It was the best looking garment among us. New shoes and boots we'd found, but they are pretty well gone, too. Blodyn looks fine with his light, long hair, mine is a mop and I hadn't been able to shave for a week. Scissors hadn't touched 'brina's hair since Seren had died. It was wild and red, like she was when angered. We are all too thin, and at that time in a journey when the wear is too deep to be washed out.

Outside again, I'm amazed that even in this death scarred land, the low slanting rays of the sun are beautiful and a sight to behold with wonder. The sun setting in the west reminds me that soon we will go home in that direction. This circle of oaks, yews and hollies was chosen to remind us of home, I know. They are alight with the power of the Mother in early evening. They burn with the warm reminder of comfort, safety and love. Although the yew and the oak are sacred to us, the holly is my favorite because the other two are sacred to all and worshipped by all, and they don't need me. The sky is darkening to the deep blue of twilight. I walk out into the circle, kneel down in front of one of the hollies, sit back on my heels, close my eyes, and press my left fist to the earth. This is a good time to speak to the Mother. The motions of the day are done, of the night not yet begun, so there's a chance of clarity. She sends me my Knowing.

I see the woman in a stone fort. She has Richard, the one they call Seeker, strung up by the wrists. She's torturing him. White waves of his pain wash out what I might have seen, until a woman in a white dress, Kahlan, enters. Suddenly it's all different. The images come at me too fast. They make no sense, and then they freeze. Richard's face is inches from the woman in leather's face. The look in her eyes is of betrayal, of hatred, of love, of draining life. He buries the sword in her chest. He and Kahlan leave her for dead. In a fury I try to pull my fist from the earth to end this Knowing. It will not move. Finally the earth releases my hand and I see her no more. Why do I have to see this? I don't need to see this. I slam my fist back to the ground.

"If you are to be a druid, Dafydd ap Cymru, you will have to Know the brightest and the darkest. You cannot choose what to Know, what to see, or in whom you see will see it. Your Knowing must be open to the deepest and final truth of things, of people and life. You will catch and feel glimpses and snatches of it. You will struggle with it, you will never reach it, but it can be enough. This is your test and your proving. It will temper your mettle. You seem to have this ability, that's uncertain. Ability, not power, will bring what you Know into service. Knowledge, not magic, will make you strong. Should you survive. Should you not go mad.

"Will my little ones be safe?'

"Yes, that I gave to you."

I'm terrified. If I survive, if I stay sane, what is ahead of me?

"Will..."

"Don't ask!"

"Will..."

"I told you not to hope for anything else."

"Will I be able to save her?"

"Why would you want to? What is she to you? You wish her dead."

"Will I be able to save her?"

"Because you could not save your wife?"

"My Seren and that thing on the bed are nothing alike. Don't tell me that. Damn you!"

"You curse the earth? Why do you want to save her?"

"Why do you let these things happen? Yes, I curse you. I do curse the earth, the sun and the moon and the stars. I curse the gods and the goddesses. Why does anyone have to be turned into this thing she is? Why do people have to be ground under in service to these demigods, this Darken Rahl, this Richard Cypher? I curse you for showing me these things and then I can do nothing."

"Curse me then. I don't make or let things happen. I can absorb any and all that you curse me with."

"Damn you! Will I be able to save her?"

"I told you that you would give her strength to do what she must to go on to a peaceful end. I told you to hope for nothing other. Why do you think you should save her?"

"You told me I could not hope to know the why of what would happen here and I don't. Now you ask me why? Damn you! Will I be able to save her?"

"No."

I collapse.

"Father!"

My two little ones find me in the morning where I fell to earth. Now I'm the one covered in dew, my face that's in the grass.

"Da, wake up, da!"

"I'm alright, 'brina."

I can't move.

"It's her fault! I hate her. Why did we bring her into our house? It's something she did."

"Bones of the earth, 'brina, this is no time for that."

"I heard you both screaming and shouting. I know it's her fault. I'm calling on Athrogoc. She'll bury her teeth in that bitch's guts."

"Sabrina, stop it! Stop it! I can't stand it now. Go in and get her."

"What? No! I hate her. I'll find our sword…"

"Blodyn, go in and bring her out here."

"Yes, da."

" 'brina, you'll need her strength to get me inside."

"That beat up, scrawny thing? The only thing she knows is herself. She doesn't care about anything else. She won't help us. How do you know she won't hurt you or kill you?' 'brina's in a panic now. "Da, you have to be alright! You have to be alright. I don't want her near you"

Blodyn brings the woman near. She seems useless. 'brina tears into her.

"You better help my father or you will rue the day, girl."

She is stunned at being called a girl again. It's Blodyn who takes over.

"Sabrina ferch Seren, enough. I mean it. You are Seren's daughter, act like it. Can you walk, da?"

"Help me to my feet and I'll walk"

"You'll have to help him, lady. You're tall enough to support him. When you're on your feet, da, put your arm on her shoulder. We'll help but you're only one tall enough." And suddenly he blurts out "What's your name?'

She's taken by surprise and answers uncertainly.

"Denna. My name is Denna."

"Denna is pretty. My da loves words, he'll love your name."

I hate her name. I didn't want to know her name. I don't want her to help me. I don't want to touch her. I'm on my feet.

"Put your arm around Denna's shoulders, da."

I loop my arms over her shoulders. She is no happier about this than I am. I look at her with anger. She looks away with disgust.

Blodyn has seen this. He takes her side.

"She's trying to help you, da."

"Just get me into the hut quickly. Get me on the bed. I just need to get some sleep."

But it's not quickly, we move slowly into the hut. Finally she lets me down. I fall out flat on my back. She backs into the shadows, looking down at the ground. She seems lost. Her hair is wild around her shoulders out of the braid. She looks so small inside my tunic. I clear my throat, swallow deeply.

"Thank you."

Her head comes up and she looks at me with unfulfilled expectation.

"Denna." she says quietly.

"What?"

"My name is Denna." She says with some insistence.

"Thank you, Denna."

"You're welcome,..." Her eye brows rise to ask the question.,

"Dafydd. I'm Dafydd."

"Dafydd. You're welcome, Dafydd."

The uncomfortable silence settles on the four of us. It's 'brina who breaks it.

"My father's name comes from a land far away to the east. The people all have black hair and the men wear beards. It means "beloved", his name. It was the name of the greatest king in all of the world in all times. Oh, da, I was so afraid out there."

"I'm sorry, star dancer. You were a little scary out there, too. Just let me get a little more sleep now."

You have kicked from a dark den, leaped up the whinnying light,
And dug your grave in my breast.

from the poet who began the story, learned the story,

and told the story over again

I roll over and am gone in a moment. Gone back home. Gone back to my wife. Gone back to easy, free days with friends and family. Days of singing and poetry and telling tales. Seren was from the Green Island even farther west than our home land. Her hair was red and her eyes green and her spirit full of wild love and laughter. She told us the tales of her island so none could ever forget and none could help but being enchanted by her telling. And do not cross her. She would spit and claw and wear a stone down to her will. I go back to the two of us racing our ponies across pastures of sheep and long-haired cattle, down mountain valleys to see the ocean that stands between my land and her island. I see the birth of Sabrina and Blodyn. On a beautiful spring evening, she fell from her pony. She was such a strong rider. The ponies, bred to our land, so surefooted. The animal rolled on her leg. It crushed and shattered her ankle. An infection came on that could not be stopped. It took ten days, the last three burning with fever and pain and fear. The rides stopped, the laughter stopped, the tales stopped. I came to accept the role of novitiate to the druids, to learn the ways of knowledge. To learn to make things not happen. It would have saved Seren. Responsibility fell against my freedom, but it is rich and filling, the children, the learning. Dreams, just dreams, sweet restoration in dreams.

I awake to the sound of singing. Of all the impossible things, I hear Blodyn teaching the woman a song that we use to teach our children their numbers.

"Gochanwn, gochenyn trigaith" ("I would sing, three slaves sang")

"No, Denna, you have to roll the r, trrrrigaith. Trrrrri"

"But we don't roll the r's in our language, Blodyn. I may not be able to."

I open my eyes in slits to see without being seen to be awake. She sits at the table with Blodyn in front of her. Behind her Sabrina is braiding her hair. Now, I'm not sure if I'm awake or not.

"This is how the women in Frankish lands braid their hair. It's so much prettier than the braid you had. Their language is like everyone is singing all the time. The Frankish women are so beautiful, much more than you."

"Tell me, in your language does Sabrina mean "terribly honest?"

"I don't think so. No, it's the name of our greatest goddess, the goddess of the water. Without Sabrina there is no life. Why?"

"Oh, nothing, really, and you are certainly are full of life. Girl!"

She has the curve of a smile on her face.

"And you are certainly strange, but you're not really so horrible." returns 'brina.

Now Denna can't help but laugh.

"I am so glad to know my place in your world has risen."

I watch this quietly. They don't know that I'm awake. A lot seems to have changed while I slept. Blodyn is trying to get Denna up to four, "pedwar", in his song. 'brina is telling tales of our journey. Tales of lands where the people all have dark hair, the women always wear a veil to cover the lower half of their face. The stories these people told of people still further east with strange eyes and a language so different no one can decipher it. The places we had been where people are black. Animals are as big as our hut. The voice of her story telling brings her mother back to me. I wonder when her other inheritance will show up, when the power to bewitch will be in her eyes.

And the woman really is beautiful. Her eyes should be steel and cold, deadly blue, but they seem soft and alert while they take in everything around her. They light up as she laughs and smiles through Blodyn's song and 'brina's unbridled opinions. The braid 'brina has put in her hair is lovely. She looks funny in the faded green tunic, twice her size or more. She's found a shred of some poor piece of clothing to belt the tunic.

There's something else.

No! Not this, I can't, I won't have this. She's too beautiful. She's too everything and I'm not having this. I can't have this. I rise up on one arm to breakup this lovely scene.

"Well, everyone seems to have been enjoying themselves while I slept!"

"Da!" shouts Blodyn who dashes across the room and dives onto me.

"Da!" joins in Sabrina who is on the two of us in a bound.

I look across the room at Denna. She turns hard and cold. She looks at me as if she were looking at a mad dog who'd come back to finish the meal. Good. I don't need her becoming something else to me than what she is. I close my eyes and take a deep breath of resignation. I know she has become more. All I want is to see the woman who was singing with my son and trading words with my daughter. I want dearly to walk in the very danger that terrifies me. I know it and I can't help myself. I wish she had used the sword on me now. I don't need this but I want it. I have to fight this but surrender seems much sweeter. Damn. This is what I have been warned of, should I not go mad.

"You slept so long, da. It was scary."

"'brina, it couldn't have been so long. The sun's still in the door, in the east. How long could I have been asleep? A nap is all."

'brina's hands go behind her back and she gets that terribly thoughtful look on her face again.

"Da, the suns in the east again, not still."

Blodyn's pulling on my ears and laughing away.

"Da," he tells me, "you slept all yesterday and all last night and into today!"

I hear Denna giggle. When I look at her, she suddenly gathers herself into stiff arrogance. Good, please, don't let her show me anything else.

In cold condescension she says "I understand what you mean now about being able to make things not happen. I would say your skills are considerable. You did absolutely nothing for a whole day. What powers you do have."

She has all my attention but I will show her no reaction. 'brina is all reaction and clearly her contempt for the woman returns to her eyes.

"We all went down to the stream to wash, da." says Blodyn.

"Yeah, even that one almost doesn't smell anymore." says 'brina, nodding at Denna.

Coldly unimpressed, Denna rises.

"I suppose it would be allowed that I go out into your magic tree circle, knowing that I can't leave?"

It's too dangerous to stay here with her now, dangerous in a new way. I recall the warning, "the pain they might have caused you will be nothing compared to the heart ache you will need to go through for her", come from memory.

"No. You stay here. I want something to eat. Then we should do something, we should go for a walk. It's beautiful out, let's walk up the hill."

I have to think of something to distract myself.

"Is she coming?" insists 'brina.

"I'm afraid she is."

Blodyn asks, wide eyed, "Oh, da, can we summon Athrogoc? Let's do, at the top of the hill."

"We will! We can tell her we'll be going home soon. I'm sure she'll be as happy as we are, in her own way. I doubt the diet around hear has agreed with her much."

I turn to Denna.

"You may notice a shortage of gars around here, short and long tailed ones. Athrogoc has had to eat, after all. A couple of centuries ought to restore the population, though. She has an appetite, usually for finer things, but she couldn't go hungry."

I stand and the blanket drops to the ground. Now I'm the one that's naked.

The two little ones cry out in their infamous harmony "Daaaaaa!"

I look at Denna who sits stone faced but tilts her head for effect. "I was hoping to return the favor you'd done me. I undressed you. I thought you'd sleep better."

Blodyn laughs hysterically. I can't afford to and I won't. Not this. I can't have this. Why couldn't she have just dropped dead the first night? I can't have us just sitting here looking at each other. I can't take the chance of sitting here with her. We'll take the walk. I gather my sword down from its hiding place. I can't take that chance, either.

"Child of the short spark in a shapeless country"

the words of a poet who knew Sabrina long after this story ended

We start up the trail that will bring us to the top of the hill that stands to the west of our circle.

"Call her, da, call Athrogoc." whispers Blodyn.

"She knows we're here. She knows we're out of the circle. She'll come"

Blodyn and 'brina move ahead of the woman and I. Their curiosity carries them into the forest on either side. The restlessness that's built up in them carries them up the trail. This leaves me where I least desire to be, alone with Denna. This idea, taking this walk, is not working out as I hoped. I wanted distraction. Instead, trying to ignore her is all I have on my mind. I wonder if this would all be different if she were a man. I hate when I ask myself ridiculous questions. She seems to have no problem paying me no attention. Watching her walk just ahead of me on the other side of the path, I can't think that what I know of her is true. She seems so ordinary. She seems so extraordinarily lovely. I'm losing myself in an illusion I have of her, something that is not at all extraordinary. I speak up.

"And what does someone talk about with…"

"With a Mord-Sith?"

"Yes, a Mord-Sith. We could talk about your seeming ability to read my mind."

"I don't read minds. I bend and shape minds to my will."

"Not very successfully lately, I have to point out. It does sound like it could make for an enjoyable contest, though."

"Between you and I? Are you trying to make me laugh? It would not be a contest and I doubt very much you would find it enjoyable. What are you?"

"A change in strategy, Denna? Blunt but, still, decidedly better. You have me off balance a bit with that. The proper question, though, is "Who are you?""

"I prefer being called Mistress Denna."

"Mistress Denna does roll off the tongue but be satisfied I'm even calling you by name. Which, Blodyn's opinion aside, I do not care for."

"What are you?"

"I'm a raggy little man who has you captive? I believe you described me as "a pathetic nothing ."

I hate when women look at you under their eyebrows, their head tilted just so. Worse when they have the trace of a smirk on their lips.

"And you are."

"I am being taught to be a druid. In Cymru, the druids are a learned group whose knowledge earns them a place of respect and importance. It takes a long, long time to achieve. Many, maybe even most, men die before they reach the goal of learning. A time will come when magic and wizard's tricks will be nothing in this world. In Cymru, magicians do little more than entertain children. Wizards are still at it, but the time will come when knowledge will wield the true power."

"Pain, fear, control and cruelty will always wield the final power."

"You are relentless, aren't you? I must say again, they haven't served you well in the end. You're beautiful."

"Don't you dare!"

"And they won't serve you well at the end."

"I…"

She's frozen. I deeply wish I hadn't reminded her and am embarrassed by the cruelty of it.

Cries from Sabrina carry down the trail from a place on the hill.

"She's here, da. I feel her.!"

Denna snaps back as a shimmering rolls through the tree tops, a gust brief but strong. Everything becomes silence, the birds, the insects, everything knows. We look around with the sense of something happening about us. Again the very tips of the highest trees bow and shake from an unknown cause.

Denna has seen something. She gasps and starts to move across the path towards me.

"Oh, was that it?"

She looks up and about her more in wonder that in fear. She's caught a glimpse of a red tail disappearing above the oaks. So fast she wonders if she saw anything at all, whether it was just the glare of a brilliant setting sun. We begin to move up the trail toward the top of the hill at a run.

Sabrina and Blodyn run down to greet us.

Sabrina makes her demand.

"Give me your sword, da. Let me be the one. It's my time. Let me."

The look has come to her eye, bewitching. I draw the sword and hand it to her with great ceremony. It's way too big for her, yet she handles it with grace of purpose. She turns and makes her way quickly to the crest of the hill. She spreads her feet and anchors herself against her task. She raises the sword in two hands, the point forward and towards the heavens.

"Athrogoc, I call you to earth and to me! You, who served my mother, now come to me. Come to Sabrina ferch Seren."

The trees shimmer again but with so much more power, so much more a heralding of her coming. The great red winged lizard comes into full view. I look at Denna. Her face is alive with excitement. Half way between us and Sabrina, Blodyn is wide eyed in wonder. Wings spread wide, with the grace of an eagle, the red dragon lights on the peak of the hill at Sabrina's call. Her knees bend in motion with the closing of her wings and she bows her head to the red haired enchantress who has brought her to earth.

Denna moves toward this pair, her eyes blazing with the force of the moment. Sabrina stands before the fabled reptile, sword still held high to keep the dragon's eye locked on her. Denna is so near her when Sabrina commands.

"Athrogoc!"

The fireball of a girl spins with such grace and control. The point of the sword is nearly in Denna's throat.

"Kill her!"

Denna shows no fear, knows no danger. I want to scream out in horror. This death you should fear. This death I have no heart to watch.

The dragon rises up to the full height of her legs. She spreads her wings, twenty, thirty, forty feet. She stretches her neck high to strike. Denna stands in perfect control before her. She raises her arms, opens them, extends them toward the beast as if to accept death. In slow, solemn salute the red dragon instead bows it head to the woman in a graceful ceremony of recognition. Denna bends at the waist in return and bows her own head, eyes cast down in humble return.

Sabrina is lost in her madness. She turns back to her disloyal servant.

"You! You! If you won't kill, then die!"

She drives the sword deep into the reptile's left shoulder, hoping to find the heart. A scream like a hundred wolves howling, a thousand hawks shrieking, ten thousand ravens cawing tears through the day. Athrogoc rears on her hind legs. Sabrina falls back in horror from the monster she's created. Denna is all courage and motion. She steps forward and as Athrogoc returns to ground, she swiftly and surely draws the sword from the wound, throwing it to the ground in hatred of what it has done. Sabrina regains her feet. Crying and screaming, she runs down the path. Blodyn steps toward her and she sends him to the ground. I try to catch her but her fury is out of any control. She passes me and I turn to see her running down the hill. Denna passes me in full flight after her. What will the woman do when she catches my daughter? Nothing, she will do nothing, I tell myself. She can't do anything to hurt Sabrina. I gather up Blodyn to care for him. Why does he have to go through this?

"Da, what's the matter with her? Why? Is she going to be alright? Why did she do that?"

Why? Who can ever say, finally, why? I comfort Blodyn and try not to think about Sabrina and Denna, but it all comes crashing down. I don't believe any more that Denna can't hurt Sabrina. How can I after what I just saw? I find the sword and take it up. As quickly as possible but far too slowly, I make my way down the hill, prepared to do anything to stop her.

"Dare you see a soul at the white heat?

in 1,400 years, a woman in an unknown land will write these words

and die before anyone reads them

Who would cling to sanity when the world around them has gone mad? That would be to invite a lifetime of regret. I will finish her. Why would I care about anything else? I don't trust anything else. She doesn't know anything else. It's death that holds the final power, not knowledge, not pain or fear or control. I will create nothing.

I burst into the tree circle, now a place of discomfited quiet after the battle on the hill. Where are they? I turn to the trees. Where are they? Oaks and yews, where are they? My hollies, you saw them, tell me, where are they?

"Sabrina!" to the north, nothing.

"Sabrina!" to the south, silence.

"Sabrina!" to the east, the stillness swallows my cry.

I make my way across the circle. In the hut? As I approach the entrance, I hear Denna crying. Did Sabrina cut her down? No, Denna is the warrior. Closer, I hear Sabrina choking on her tears. I go to the entrance but I know the sound is not from inside. A single step around the side of the hut and I see them. Sabrina is wrapped in Denna's arms, both of their faces run with tears. Denna sees me first and loosens her enfolding of Sabrina. My girl looks up at me, sad, sorrowful, begging forgiveness. She bolts over to me and throws her arms around me for a moment. Lost again in crying, she takes her arms away to wipe the tears but they come too fast. She takes a step back and fights to form words. In this frustration that she's never known before, all she can do to save herself is disappear. She bolts around the hut. I turn to grab her, to stop her, to give her anything she needs, but she's gone.

I turn round to Denna. She's across the space in a single stride and the palm of her right hand explodes against my cheek. Without my having a chance, it returns for another blow. She tries for the third, I grab her wrists. It would have been easier to hold the dragon's forelegs when Sabrina sank the sword in her.

"You stupid, stupid, cruel man! Why are you dragging these children all over now? Have you the least feeling, some thought, any heart for what it's like for a girl to lose her mother? For your son to lose his mother? Do you see what's it's doing to Sabrina? She takes after your wife? Then love her like you loved your wife! Her, you can save!"

Denna breaks my hold and starts to pound on my chest, then pulls away.

"You listen to me, Dafydd. You will listen to me and you will obey. Tomorrow you are going to collect your things, you are going to take Blodyn and 'brina and you are going to start toward home. You are going to get them home where they will be with friends and family, and play. They need it, they have to be there. You are going to take them where they will be safe. Not safe because of this nonsense about making things not happen, not because of tree circles, not because of dragons, but because they will be home where there is nothing to need to protect them from, where they will feel safe. You're so stupid, you drag them all over the world a year after their mother dies. You're going to be this druid thing? You think you know something, that you'll get power from knowing? Know this, you ass, you know nothing that doesn't come from a fucking cesspool."

"I was sent…"

"You were sent? Sent? You were sent. I'm so damned tired of people being sent. Richard is sent to kill Darken Rahl. Kahlan is sent to help him. I am sent to stop him and break him. Even Darken Rahl is on a mission to continue his father's terror. We're all being sent on somebody else's missions, to obey the senders. Do you know how many of my Mord-Sith Sisters have been sent and never come back? They think we don't feel anything, that they've killed us inside. Well know this, My Lord Knower, we do feel it. Finally, it can't be killed. And I feel it most of all, they can never kill what's inside of me. Why did it have to be like this? There's always something alive in us that feels it. You want to be sent? I'm sending you home and you're going home. If you don't, there is no power in this world that will keep me off your throat. You will not make that not happen, believe it. Fucking well know this!"

My hatred of her grows cold in my heart. I grab her by the throat, my thumbs on her cheeks to make her look into my eyes and see how I hate her.

"Bitch, I've traveled more than a year, over most of the world, and it's not to be lectured and commanded by a murdering, sadistic whore. Sabrina's mother died, she wasn't murdered like…"

Her scream comes from the deepest places in the hell her life has been. She breaks my grip on her and lunges at my throat. Her weight drags us both to our knees. I'm terrified by her now. She's broken past something and there is no safety from her. Like her, like us all, there something inside of me that feels beyond what might have killed it. In my mind I hear the words, "the pain they might have caused you will be nothing compared to the heart ache you will need to go through for her". I am sure it has started. It's not her fury that terrifies me. It's my need to take it from her.

"I loved my mother. I loved my mother. And she loved me, she loved me so much. I can love. I loved my father and I killed him! He loved me and I killed him. Richard loved me and I loved him. I know he loved me. I don't care what you say, or think, or know, I can love, Dafydd. I can. I can love."

I begin to cry.

"Denna, I know…"

She digs deeper into her anger. I dig deeper into my need.

"You know? You know? You know? You know! I'm hate your "I know". I'm sick of your "I know". You don't know anything. Why do I have to be like this? I loved them. I did. I do. You know? You know shit!"

She lunges at me. I'm helpless before her now. I can barely see her through my tears and she rakes her fingers down my face. One nail opens a long cut in my cheek. I feel the blood begin to escape.

She falls back on her heels, and from her knees she has folded herself down, her hands against her stomach, her face nearly touching the ground. She pours years of sadness and pain and sorrow into the earth with her tears.

This moment is eternal. What I do next must be beyond perfect and I have nothing to guide me but my senses. I place a hand on the back of her shoulder, softly and gently. I speak to her quietly now.

"Denna, I only know you loved them because you tell me so. You tell me so and I believe you. That's all. I believe you."

I place both hands under her shoulders and lift her so I can look at her. I have never been so unafraid in the face of such danger, the danger of looking into her eyes, the danger of caring for another soul.

"I can love. Oh, Dafydd, what did I do?"

She reaches out and places a finger on my cheek, touching the cut she's given me. My blood is on her finger.

"What did I do, Dafydd? I'm sorry, sorry. Does it hurt?"

What I do next must be beyond perfect and now I have nothing left to guide me. I reach out and place a finger on her cheek. Her tears are on my finger. I press my hand against hers. My blood and her tears mix on our fingertips.

"No. No, it doesn't. I don't want anything to hurt anymore. I don't want to make you cry anymore. I don't want to be angry or afraid. I don't want…I…I…I want to kiss you, Denna. May I?"

Her face, her lovely face, her beautiful eyes, her lips, take the most amazing change.

"Nobody asks to kiss me. You're asking me? You strange man. Yes, you had better. Kiss me."

I lean forward to her and our lips meet. There is nothing else. No cut, no tears, no pain or fear, just the moist warmth of her lips softly on mine.

"I want to take it all away from you, Denna."

"What will you give me in return?"

"Nothing."

"Nothing?"

"I want to take it all away…"

"But you can't."

"I can't."

"Make it not happen!"

"I can't."

"Then are you going to take me now?"

"Take you?"

"Have me."

"Have you?"

"Stop it, Dafydd, you know what I mean."

"What did I tell you that first day? Don't accuse me of…"

"It wouldn't be rape."

"I won't."

"Then what?"

"What was it like to feel sorry that you scratched my cheek?"

"What? Why?"

"What was it like to feel what someone else was feeling?"

"It was…"

"Loving."

"Yes. Is it because I'm going to die soon?"

"I've already loved a woman who was going to die soon. I can love another."

"Love."

"Love. Not take."

I look up at the moon's crescent topping the oaks and I know that I do. For this time, for this woman, I do. It hurts worse than the scar in my cheek.

"Yes, Denna, I do love you."

"No, you don't. How could you possibly love me?"

"In our land, Denna, the poets and singers and story tellers will prate on for hours about love, and what love is, and true love…"

"No, you can't. Why are you prattling on about all this? How can you bear it then?"

"I doubt that I can. It won't be by choice if I do. I will have to, that's all. You don't think I have a choice, do you? You don't choose to love someone. I didn't choose to love Seren. I chose to be her husband and we chose to live our lives together. When I look at you I hear you singing with Blodyn and crying with 'brina. I see courage and strength. And beauty, I admit. I know what you've done, too well, but I feel all these other things. Maybe knowing isn't the most powerful thing after all, maybe feeling is, finally. I've never made a reasonable decision in my life. What I've thought has always been in service to my heart. I'm blind to those other things and I may be a fool to be, but I'll have to be for you. I will for you."

"For me? Why for me? What would make you?"

"What did I just try to say, Denna? I'm …I…want to, that's all."

"You love me. People who love me die."

"One who loved me died. Why should it be this way?"

"But not the same…"

"Oh, very much the same. Our hearts."

"Make it not happen. Please, can't you?"

I hold up my hand and show her the palm, the fingers stained with my blood and her tears. Her eyes flash with the acceptance of a heart that has felt the love of another. She leans forward and kisses my palm. She leans back and holds up her palm to me, her fingertips stained with salt tears and red blood. I lean forward and kiss her palm. We press palm to palm, blood and tears, and then I slide my hand behind her's. Will she be able to stand it? This woman can stand more than I may ever. Slowly I take her hand to ground and lay it open on the earth, mine above it, all the while looking into her eyes. I feel it all drain from her as her eyes close and quiet fills her, and I know I've done it. By the goddess, I've taken it all away from her. Let her have this. Measure the time by the life of stars and the pulses of her soul, the beating of my heart and a moment of creation, until these are done, let her have this, and when they are complete, bring her gently back to me. Her eyes slowly open.

"Dafydd."

"All I can do for you I've done. Come around next to me, sit close to me."

We sit closely together in silence, my arm around her, her head on my shoulder. I realize that the dew, the same dew I found her in that morning, the dew she helped lift me out of the next day, has started to cover us. I help Denna to her feet quietly and we walk into the hut. In the dark our lips meet and it is sacred.

"Dafydd, aren't you going to ask me if I love you?"

"Do you love me, Denna?"

"Yes, I think I do, I know I do, I feel I do. I tell I do and you believe me don't you. Lie with me, Dafydd, won't you?"

We lie on the bed together, closely together, the one and only night.

Though lovers be lost love shall not;
And death shall have no dominion

the last we need read of the poet's words

Still and always, I must be the first awake. Blodyn and 'brina are on their bundles of straw and moss. Asleep, 'brina is coiled tense and on the verge. It may be only what I see when I look at her now that I understand how her spirit has been abused. Blodyn, my flower, is withered and pale. I never saw any of this until now. What have I done to them? And then, gods and goddesses, who taught me the lesson? I turn and look back at her on the bed. So ordinary and so extraordinary. A young woman with a dirty face, a trace of my blood still on it, in an ill fitting, worn tunic, fair haired and pretty, to me at last, now at least, peaceful in her sleep for the first time in who could say how long. Who could say who she really is? Who could know what she really might have been?

I need desperately to get out of the hut. I can't look at her any longer, it's too far and too deep already. No, it's who I am and what I am, who I would be and what I would be, what I will be and what I will do. I walk over to the bed and kneel next to her, brush a strand of her hair from her forehead and kiss her where it was, kiss my fingertips and touch them lightly to her cheek. Love. She stirs a little, takes a deeper breath and sighs. I am alive with it and strong in it. I've known it and had it die in my arms. I've had the blessing of seeing it born. I think of the holly and the tree circle, of the Mother, of Knowing, wondering whether to go out to them.

Now the voice in my memory speaks. "Everything to know beyond this is nothing."

I rise and leave the hut. The day is clear, cool and blue. The sun, still low but risen, fires the oaks, lights the yews, leaves the hollies in shade. It is a beautiful morning. Everywhere there are people who know only that it is another day and a beautiful morning. Bless them. In time, for me and my children, there will be such days, home, familiar, ordinary. For Denna how many days at all are there? Sanctuary here but nowhere salvation.

"Good morning, Dafydd."

I spin and she's just behind me.

"Good morning, Denna."

I move toward her to kiss her. She raises a hand to stop me.

"The time for that is over. I don't wish it, but it is over."

Her face has regained the arrogance of the warrior she is. She knows that this day she will move on to what awaits her. In her strength and courage and power, her beauty strikes me more than ever.

"I'm going to wash and prepare myself."

"Yes."

"You trust me not to run?"

"The time for that is over, too. I wish not, but it is over, too."

A corner of her lips curls into a smile.

"It's over? The time to run or the time to trust?"

"Don't do that. Don't smile, don't play games with my words. I don't want to love you any more than I do."

"Oh, damn, love…"

She's in my arms and I kiss her. There is a heartbeat of softness before she hardens and twists away.

"I am going to prepare myself."

"You said."

"You know that you became one of those who can make things happen last night."

"Oh!"

""Awesome responsibility that" I believe you said."

"I, uh, yes."

"I think you'll be good with it."

"Umm…I, well…yes."

"Very well said, druid. You have no plans for becoming one of the story tellers, I hope?"

I, too, am going to prepare myself. I'll raise the children from sleep to remind me of why I have to begin the return to home. We'll sort through the things we have for what we need. I need something now. I need to remember something, to remember many things, things deeper than a life, things that are past need to desire, memory more old than admitted, more elusive than fleeting.

The cries of his children will bring a man back from the oldest of dreams.

"Da, Denna is gone. Where is she? She better not have left." 'brina is not cowed by what happened the day before.

"I wanted to say good-bye, da." Blodyn demands.

"She only went to wash. We will have to say good-bye today. We'll go home and Denna will go to…"

"Her home?" asks Blodyn. "She lives in a stone fort with great halls and baths and her sisters. She said she loves them."

"She did."

"She doesn't anymore, da? Then she could come with us!"

"Oh, no, no, I only mean that she did say that. She did."

"Denna!" he shrieks and runs down toward the patch of trees to meet her. I think he's worse than I am. His father's son, what's in store for Blodyn? What does he see now as he runs to her? What did I see the night before, what I needed to see? Sabrina takes one step toward her and pulls up quickly, gathering herself. I'm amazed to think she's finally met the one that will intimidate her, but I am so very wrong. She stands as still and as proud as the little queen, as the coven's mistress, and waits for the woman properly to come to her. At the edge of the trees, the most amazing scene is played. Denna takes to her knees, catches Blodyn in her arms, and they both burst into the laughter of joy as she lifts him onto a shoulder and stands, spinning him around. Maybe I'm not so much an ass. I don't want to not care about this woman now. What creatures we are. And, guiltily, I take another delight in seeing Sabrina turn squinty eyed with envy of her brother. History records the victory for the quiet and gentle one.

Denna and Blodyn come near us, hand in hand. She releases his hand and approaches the little queen. The laughter has left her, turning to a look of dignity and respect. 'brina steps toward her assuming the same dignity, showing the same respect. They bow to each other, more sincere than courtly, more the nod of equals than a show of subservience, in perfect unity.

"Sabrina, my goddess." "Denna, my mistress."

"Sabrina, would you help me prepare?"

"Yes, I think that may please me."

Together they move toward the hut's entrance. I turn to Blodyn with a smile. He points to the women with his own wide eyes. I see Denna's arm around 'brina's shoulder and 'brina's around Denna's waist.

"Can I go into the hut, too, da?"

"No, my champion, what's happening in that hut is a mystery we will never grasp, never. Never."

"Women."

"Yes, just so, exactly."

"Do you like Denna, da?"

I kneel down to the young man now, to smile as I look him in the face.

"Always stay open, Blodyn. What you might come to know might amaze you. I believe you will. Please?"

"Do you love Denna, da?"

"I…what?…Denna…do I love her?...I...uhh. We were thrown together...a heart...mine...I feel her...I don't hate..."

"You do! Daaaaa!"

I haven't done too much harm to these two. One would dance the devil to distraction, one you can only wonder how deep his waters run. They will regain whatever our journey has cost and take what it has given them. Couldn't my children just enjoy making mud pies? 'brina's time for that is ending. She'll go back to it from time to time and I will adore her when she does, but it is ending. Soon I will be taking pride in her as a young woman. What Blodyn is, to a great part, will always be inside of him, unseen. When he shows it, it will be quiet and very strong.

Blodyn turns a bright red as he points toward the hut.

"Oh, da, oh."

She is striking and formidable looking as she comes out of the entrance to the hut. The brown leather of her uniform fits her perfectly. She smoothes down the fingers of her gloves as she moves toward me, erect, proud, gathered in her strength. Beside her is my daughter, her little goddess, her warrior aspirant, sharing her strength and copying her demeanor. She stops before me and is too perfectly oblivious of me for me not to believe that much of what she does is for my attention. Every seam must be perfectly straight, each buckle pulled just so. She pulls her boot tops up to her knees without looking at me. The long braid, severe, hangs over her shoulder.

Blodyn tugs at my sleeve.

"M'aern hefryd, da."

"Gwethol, Blodyn, gwethol." I repeat with a shrug.

She exchanges smiles with Blodyn and roughs his hair, but when her gaze turns to me, a look of haughtiness near condescension comes to her. I cannot form words.

"Nothing to say, druid? How unusual. What has you so suddenly silent?"

It's Sabrina's voice that rescues me from the grip of the silence.

"Oh, da, isn't Denna so wonderful. Da, can't we stay here and then I can join her. I can become a Mord-Sith!"

"NO!" "NO!"

Denna and I roar in union. Two adult voices addressing her with such finality and certainty and force may serve to subdue nearly any girl. My 'brina? Never.

"No! I know! By the goddesses, I know! When I get back home I will organize all the women of Cymru into a great army. At their head, I will march them back here and we'll join you, Denna, and the Sisters of the Mord-Sith. We'll form a huge, invincible army. The Mord-Sith will wear their leathers and my army will strip naked. We'll paint ourselves blue just as in the old legends and make our faces so ugly, even me. Our army will drive all the dark lords back to hell and we'll rule over all. It will be great! We'll be great. But I would love to wear a leather uniform like that! Wouldn't I look powerful?"

"Denna, what goes in here?" Blodyn curiously breaks in, pointing to a loop in her belt.

"That's where we carry…"

"Denna, don't." I stop her. She holds up a hand, instead stopping me.

"Trust me." To my wonder, she goes to one knee before my son, not waiting for an answer.

"An ageil fits there. An ageil is a little club a Mord-Sith carries. It's only made of leather, so it doesn't really hurt much. "

She glances at Sabrina and smiles for her. She returns her attention to Blodyn.

"When our fathers, or brothers or our lovers…"

"Lovers!" squeals 'brina. "When I am a young woman I will have so many, many lovers!"

"Maybe not so very many, 'brina." Denna suggests.

"Maybe many who want to be but maybe just one actual lover." pleads her father.

"There really won't be many who deserve me, actually." she settles the matter.

"So," continues Denna, "When our fathers and brothers and…suitors become stupid and won't talk to us or tell us they love us, we take out the little club and give them a good bonk on the head to wake them up and do as we will have them do."

"Where's yours then, Denna?" asks Blodyn.

"I suppose I had to use it on too many men and it wore out. They're not all like your father."

Sabrina can't resist and can't miss this opportunity.

"The first one I would use it on is you, stinky little flower brother." My poor son, what he goes through just by being the nearest to her. 'brina assumes her most formal and imposing voice.

"Dark Lord Blodyn, the women of Cymru and the Mord-Sith will drive you from the earth, you horrid, little creature. " And down comes her hand and her imaginary ageil on Blodyn's head.

"Oh, Sabrina, you eat snakes for breakfast."

"Not so, Dark Lord Blodyn, because if I did I would have gobbled you up on the day you were born, lizard lips. "

Another bonk on the head is followed by the long cacophonous shriek from the pair and they're off around the hut.

Denna shakes her head.

"Your fate may prove more difficult than mine, Dafydd."

"I do expect to wind up begging at the gates of some city, and babbling over and over again "No, Sabrina. No, Sabrina." I see what you and the dragon had in common now."

She looks at me, quietly pondering me. I am so afraid now that I stumble on my words.

"Thank…"

"Don't delude yourself, druid. This is what I am. I don't shrug from it, or from anything."

In the instant, the Mord-Sith has regained control of her, of me.

"But look…"

"Don't be so stupid! Here's what you must know, you who value knowing so much. You can't change me, nothing can. This is what I am. It's too deep."

"Come with…"

"Dafydd! Stop! We are what we are. We are what we do. We are what is done to us. And for us. Thank you."

"I…"

"Don't say it. It's not my doing. I don't want to hear it."

"I do."

"I know you do. I do, too."

She steps into me and kisses me.

Denna turns and begins down the path. She stops and turns back, tilting her head and raising her eyebrows to question me.

"Dafydd, what did Blodyn say to you back there?"

"M'aern hefryd? He said you were lovely."

"Oh, he's worse than you are. And what did you say?"

"Gwethol? She's not too bad." I answer with a shrug.

Her eyes grow large, her smile is slight.

"Strange man. Good-bye, Dafydd. I..."

"Don't say it! I do too."

She turns again to the path. There will be no more.

I start back to the hut to look for my children, to begin our final leg of the way home. Out of the woods they charge, Blodyn in angry pursuit of his tormentor. He freezes.

"Da, where is she?"

"She had to go, my flower. She was too sad to even say good-bye to you. And you, too, 'brina. She adored you two, you know."

"Then why the hell did she leave?"

"Sabrina! She just couldn't. Strong in some ways, not so in others."

Blodyn takes my hand.

"I hope she's going to be alright, da."

I don't want to cry now, not in front of them. It has to all be for them now. She's not going to be alright, but they don't need to know. I couldn't say it out loud if I thought I should. I will not think of it, not now, but always.

We begin down the path opposite to the one she took. Blodyn takes my hand, Sabrina steps ahead of us, the lead. Quietly I begin humming a tune to myself, a very old one. I believe it is the oldest song.

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