The Kilmartin House Cafe was cozy and rustic with wide oak beam trusses lining the ceiling. Minerva and Irma could not resist the cafe's engaging atmosphere. Besides, after the revelations in the churchyard, a chance for refreshments was very welcome indeed.
Minerva smiled up at the waiter. "Two Irn Brus, please."
"Irn what?" Irma asked.
"Trust me."
Irma looked over the short menu. "The raspberry buns sound delicious."
The waiter grinned. "Yes, that they be. Two for you, ladies?"
Irma nodded her head. She perused through the various pamphlets she had picked up at the entrance. One pamphlet displaying a map of the various archeological sites in and around Kilmartin caught her attention.
As soon as the waiter was out of sight, Minerva opened Irma's notebook and took out a pen. She tore one blank sheet off to use for notes. She turned to the page where the Gaelic message was copied. Her mouth moved as she read the message under her breath.
Irma, too, made comments under her breath. "I never knew there were so many archeological sites in this area. Over a hundred fifty, it says here."
"Remember, we only have four days," Minerva added. On her sheet, she had jotted down the words "Lady of the Shores" and "gaidheal."
"If I can only remember where I've seen that symbol before. Prehistoric, I'm fairly sure," Irma shook her head. "Making any headway with that?"
"It's very ancient with references to Celtic lore and intended only for a wizard or witch to recognize and understand."
"Her son, Andre de Sauvignon, was no squib. That's certain."
Their order arrived. The two ladies ate while they continued to study their materials. Irma racked her brain for any knowledge of prehistoric Scotland. On the map, Irma crossed off sites that she was sure did not fit within a prehistoric time line. Argyle and the area around Kilmartin was very much a population center with strong druid cultural influences. The assumption that the grave site was in the area was a near certainty but finding it, well, that could prove tricky.
"I have it, Irma, a rough translation," Minerva said quietly. She leaned closer to Irma and began to recite softly just above a whisper. "The message is ... "
In this hard earth of Alba,
She lays warm, favored by the Lady of the Shores,
Loving mother, loyal wife, warrior true.
Enlightenment awaits.
You guardians of fate, wielders of light.
Speak caution, gaidheal, say truth.
The way is her doing, her right,
By blood, by birthright, by gift,
Cloaked in mists of far memory, shadows, dreams.
Be warned, destroyers of destiny,
The hands of protection and the portals of death,
For they guard her rest, her wending way.
Irma gaped at her. "Minerva, what have we gotten ourselves into?"
Minerva's eyes were alight with mischief. "A quest! And a connection to Rowena's prophecy. It's a slim connection but it's there."
"Yes. The references to destiny and fate is obvious. What is a gaidheal?"
"It means a ... a speaker of Gaelic. There were many dialects back then but, even so, there was a basic root of the language that all speakers would understand." Minerva explained. She slid her note page towards Irma.
"Blood, birthright and gift can only refer to her being born a witch." Irma smiled. "The ancients used to say that the druids cast light in their wake. Since most druids were truly wizards and witches that too points to magicians. Alba is an old word for land of the Scots. What about Lady of the Shore?"
"I strongly believe it refers to Brighid or Brigit who was one of the three goddesses in Celtic folklore. She was the goddess of fire. She protected healers, poets and craftsmen. Very apropos in this case."
"The son has a bit of the poet in him it seems." Irma observed. "First part is a lovely tribute to his mother."
Minerva's expression was grave. "It is now obvious. Juliana Pendry didn't disappear, Irma. She hid because she had something to hide."
"Something or someone, Minerva. The lines about her right, her blood, her birthright and her gift are too personal to my mind. She was hiding herself and her family had to know." Irma made more notes in her notebook. "Allying with the Templars makes sense if she felt that she needed protection. The Templars had the means to protect her."
"Yes, to protect her from the destroyers of destiny, if I'm interpreting the last stanza correctly."
"The prophecy was known to others?" Irma asked. "How can that be?"
"It's possible. All those trips the baron embarked on, perhaps, something else was changed that we are not yet aware of."
"Destroyers of destiny seems to be in direct opposition to guardians of fate. Two opposing forces after the same thing. But what, what is it?"
"You said it before, Irma. Juliana was protecting herself or in other words her line. Somehow she knew that one day her line would produce a historically critical descendant."
"But how did she know? Did the baron intimate something of the kind when he spoke to Isabel? Or ... or was she openly pursued by whoever?"
Minerva shook her head. "Our questions outpace our answers, spiraling ever outward. We need to find her grave. The word 'way' is mentioned twice and in such a well structured riddle, two mentions is suspicious. 'Wending' indicates proceeding. It is as clear an instruction as we are likely to receive. We find the grave and that will lead us on our quest."
Irma raised an eyebrow. "Minerva, I believe you are enjoying this whole thing a bit much."
Minerva returned the eyebrow. "And you aren't?"
The two women laughed softly in complete understanding.
For the next two hours, Irma and Minerva appraised every exhibit and artifact in the museum with great care. They concentrated on artifacts and presentations dating to the approximate time of Juliana's time. Not finding any useful information, they extended their search to the times immediately before and after Juliana's time period. Again, there was no success. Their last resort was going further back in time.
Energies flagging and spirits low, they set upon one of the last exhibits. It concerned the earliest time periods about 5000 years ago. A photo, close up, showed vividly a series of cup and ring images marked into hard rock.
Tamping down nervous excitement, Irma compared the copy of marker figure to that on the photo. "Remember, I said that the symbol was familiar, Minerva?"
"Yes." Minerva looked about but they were alone in the area.
"I saw it years ago in a book about primitive henges and religious sites." Irma said a spell and a holographic image of the marker image appeared in the air. Irma moved the floating image beside the photograph. She peered closely. "It's identical, Minerva." Irma's voice quivered. "It says here that these are from rock formations in Achnabreck."
"Does not sound familiar to me."
Irma opened her map and looked for the site. "It's south of here, far south."
"Think you can find it in the dark?"
"Excuse me?"
"We have our first point in the quest and we are going there tonight."
"It's quite far. How do you propose we get there? Have you ever driven a muggle auto ... auto-mobile?"
Minerva snorted. "Of course not. However, I do have two shrunken brooms back at the hotel. Under cover of darkness, we are going to find Juliana's grave."
"I take it back. You're not enjoying this. You are obsessed." Irma said. "Let's see if we can find a more detailed map. No sense bumbling around in the dark."
"As soon as it gets dark, we start flying." Minerva traced the photo with one finger. "Juliana is leading us forward and we have to follow. For her sake, the Baron's and, just maybe, for our world."
