Chapter 5 -- the Old Ways

"Bridgit, could you tell me about this place?" Nigel asked her as they walked. It felt absolutely wonderful to be able to really stretch his legs for a change instead of hobbling about on crutches all the time.

"It's Avalon..." Bridgit said, as though that explained it all.

"It's nothing like the Avalon of Arthurian legend."

"Those are corruptions, Nigel." Bridgit smiled at him. "Corruptions of corruptions, actually."

"Corruptions of corruptions..." Nigel repeated, shaking his head. "Meaning that the myths of Arthur are not indigenous to earth?"

"Arthur was an earthly king."

"Who, according to some traditions, was intimately connected with Avalon."

Bridgit nodded. "At the time he ruled, there was a struggle between the Christians and the followers of the Old ways. Arthur had a mother, an aunt, and a sister all educated here. In the Old ways."

"Educated in the Old ways?" Nigel asked. When she nodded, he continued, "Arthur, though, was a Christian?"

She nodded. "Undeniably. But unlike many, he saw no reason why the Old ways and the new could not coexist."

"So where does Avalon come in? It was supposed to be a refuge for followers of the Old ways, wasn't it?"

She shook her head. "No. Not precisely. Or rather not originally. This land is the realm of the Sidhe. Few humans lived out their lives here before the death of Arthur."

"But there were some?"

She nodded. "Priests and priestesses of mine, mostly. It was a place where you could dedicate your life to religion and live as a hermit. Take Audra. She is a direct descendent of one of my very first priests."

"What about Brenna?"

"Her people came here in the early nineteen-hundreds."

"You're kidding?" Nigel asked, staring.

Bridgit shook her head. "Avalon has become a refuge for followers of the old way in times of persecution. My worshipers, druids, Strega, followers of other ancient traditions... Home sweet home." She smiled at Nigel.

"Thus the mish-mash of cultures that we've been seeing?" Nigel asked.

Bridgit nodded. "Yes. They take what works best for them from each of the cultures they have been exposed to."

"Why haven't they advanced technologically at the same rate that we have on earth?"

"No need to. Their medicine is more advanced than any that you have, they're in perfect sympathy with the land and its creatures, they are happy, content... Aside from getting their pizza in thirty minutes or less, what more could they require?" She looked at Nigel almost sadly. "In your world, technology fills a void in your lives, in your minds, your very souls. These people, my child, they have no such void..."

"So, this is, basically, a pagan utopia?"

"Summerland on earth, Nigel." Bridgit smiled faintly. "Nobody wants for anything."

Nigel smiled faintly. "Lovely thought, that."

She nodded. "We do our bests to keep them happy."

"You said that there are Wiccans and Druids?" Nigel asked. "Others as well?"

She nodded. "Representatives from as far back as the stone-age. All over the world, too. In Greece, the Greek gods are still worshiped. In Ireland, England, and most of New England, the Irish gods are revered, either my pantheon or the druidic one. The Native American faiths are amply represented here and in South America... Everyone, Nigel. And there are no religious wars..."

Nigel sighed, feeling faintly envious of these people. "How did they all get here, though?"

"We brought them here during various persecutions."

"How did the Sidhe feel about this mini exodus to their land?"

"They don't much mind. The number of humans here is a low one. And..." She smiled faintly. "The humans are afraid of the Sidhe. They live in small communities and generally leave them alone."

"The insistence on getting indoors before dark, that's because they're scared of the Sidhe?" Nigel asked, faintly amused.

Bridgit nodded. "Not all of the Sidhe are friendly or harmless, Nigel. It is a wise precaution."

Nigel nodded. "And werewolves?"

"Truly exist here." She nodded. "Although not in the form that your modern cinema would have you believe. Banshees as well. And any number of other unpleasant beings."

"Lovely..." Nigel muttered.

Bridgit smiled at him. "Along with any number of more benign fairy-folk..."

Her accent and intonation reminded Nigel of an old nanny, and of the stories that she used to tell. "Leprechauns?" Nigel asked with a laugh.

She looked faintly surprised by the question. "Good heavens, no! Not in this climate."

He stared, startled. "But... elsewhere?"

She nodded. "Certainly."

"Can I ask you a geography question?"

"By all means, young scholar."

Nigel smiled at this description of himself. "Um... traditionally, Avalon is associated with Glastonbury Abby, in England..."

"So how is it that you find yourself here from New England?" Bridgit asked.

Nigel nodded.

She smiled at him. "You have all the knowledge you need, Nigel. Right here." She brushed her fingers lightly over his forehead.

"Where have I heard that before?" he muttered, shaking his head at her.

She smiled. "Wouldn't want you to get out of practice, my child."

Nigel smiled and nodded. He paused thoughtfully for a moment before starting. "Okay... in the Arthurian tradition, Avalon is associated primarily with Glastonbury in England, but... historically, it is also associated with sites throughout Europe, as far north as Italy..." He glanced up at her. "Right?"

She nodded. "So far."

Nigel frowned and nodded. "Which implies that Avalon may not be confined to a specific geographic location." He glanced at Bridgit again. She nodded silently. "So the portals to Avalon move around?"

Bridgit shook her head.

He frowned thoughtfully. "They're fixed in location?"

"Not really, no."

Nigel's frown deepened. "They don't move and they aren't fixed to a specific location. So... There are no pre-established portals?"

"There you go, Nigel." Bridgit nodded encouragingly.

"So... they can show up anywhere at any time?" Nigel considered this. "Geographically, would it be safe to assume that Avalon resembles earth?"

"That would be a safe assumption, yes."

"So, Avalon doesn't really exist independently of earth? It's... what? An alternate dimension?"

Bridgit smiled and nodded. It was as close as a human was ever going to come to understanding it. "There you go, Nigel. Clever boy."

Nigel smiled at her praise. "So... Syd and I are still only a few miles from home?" he asked, amused.

She smiled and nodded. "Precisely."

"Bloody hell..." Nigel muttered.

Bridgit smiled. "How has she been, my child? How have the two of you been?"

***

"She's a guest here so I'd appreciate it if you would extend her the same consideration that you would extend me..." Audra had told the startled townspeople. Most had looked horrified at the prospect of actually talking with a real, live stranger for any length of time.

Sydney had started with a young girl, not more than seventeen, who had not seemed at all alarmed, and was sitting in her bakery, listening as the girl carried on a running monologue. "Of course, not all the Sidhe are bad. I leave out some fresh bread and a bowl of milk for them every night so that they know that I don't bear them any ill will."

"Why are so many people afraid of them?" Sydney asked, watching as the girl pushed a paddle covered with loaves of bread into a roaring hearth.

The girl, Eala, shrugged. "People don't like what they don't understand, I guess. More tea?"

"Thanks." Sydney nodded and extended her cup for the girl to pour more tea into. "What about you?"

"What about me?"

"You don't seem to mind them."

The girl shrugged. "The Sidhe have never done me any harm. Besides, they're lucky to have around." She shrugged. "Audra says you're a scholar?"

Sydney nodded. "That's right."

"Must be great fun. Do you travel much?"

Sydney nodded. "All over the world."

Eala smiled, wide-eyed. "Wow. I'd give anything for an opportunity like that."

"Nothing keeping you from pursuing it..." Sydney pointed out with a smile.

"You're right." Eala smiled and nodded. "I think I'll talk to Audra about it."

"Audra is, like, a leader in this community?" Sydney asked.

Eala nodded. "Oh, yes. She's very wise, you know." She looked up as a young boy entered the cottage. "Yes, Connor?"

He could not have been more than ten, and he regarded Sydney cautiously as he spoke. "I need two loaves of bread."

She smiled and pointed to the hearth. "You can wait, if you'd like. It won't be long now."

"Is this the stranger?" he asked, taking in Sydney's appearance with wide eyes.

"She is the guest..." Eala corrected him gently.

"You're Connor?" Sydney asked, doing her best to remember the dozens of introductions that had been made to her this morning. "Your father is Ewan? The blacksmith?"

He nodded silently, nervously.

Sydney smiled at the lanky boy. "Are you going to be a blacksmith when you grow up, Connor?" she asked gently.

He smiled and nodded. "Yup. I may be little, but I'm strong, just like my dad."

Sydney smiled. "I'm sure you are. Do you arm-wrestle?"

He nodded and stared incredulously as Sydney put her arm on the table. "But you're a girl..." he protested.

Sydney smiled. "I'm a pretty strong girl. Want to give it a try?"

He shrugged and sat down across from her. Sydney let him win, but only after making him sweat for it. He smiled with unabashed pride. "You're pretty strong for a girl."

Sydney laughed softly.

"Do you beat your husband much?"

Sydney blinked in surprise and confusion, then realized that he was talking about Nigel. She considered telling him that they weren't married until it occurred to her that they knew nothing about the moral codes of these people. Better to just let it slide for the time being.

"Nigel. He... he's more into books than arm-wrestling."

"Does he fight? Do you fight?" Connor asked eagerly.

Sydney shrugged. "Only when we have to protect ourselves. There are better ways to solve problems than violence."

"You sound like Audra."

"And you sound like a Templar militant..." Eala informed him disapprovingly.

Sydney raised an eyebrow at the reference to the Knights Templar, an organization in medieval Europe which had been dedicated to wiping out paganism. She wondered, from the way that Eala linked the two, if she might not be living in a society of pacifists. Recalling the crossbow that Brenna had so casually leveled at her the day before, she decided that it was unlikely.

"Can I meet your father, Connor?" Sydney asked. "I'd be very interested to see his forge later."

He nodded, smiling proudly.

Eala handed him two loaves. "If you had nothing else for me, Scholar Fox, feel free to go with Connor now."

Sydney smiled and rose. "Thank you for your cooperation, Eala."

"Good luck finding home, ma'am." She smiled. "Although I can't imagine why anyone would want to leave this place once they'd found it."

Sydney waited to roll her eyes until she had followed young Connor from the cottage. She was getting sick of hearing about how wonderful this place was from the same people who were scared to leave their homes after dark. Connor turned out to be an excellent source of information, carrying on a running monolog as he led Sydney towards his father's forge.

Two sheep had been carried off by werewolves last month, he explained enthusiastically, and if any more were lost this month, the villagers were going to form a hunting-party and he was old enough to join this time. Jennifer and her little brother Kelly  fought constantly and Jennifer had started telling her friends that a Changeling had replaced him in the crib and her real brother was living with the Sidhe now. The harvest was going to be a bad one this year, he could tell, because the weather was not being at all cooperative in spite of Audra's best efforts. Most interesting to him, though, was the fact that Brenna had spotted a white-clad figure lurking around the burial-place more than once now, always very late at night. Connor was convinced that it was a banshee, which he announced as they entered the forge.

The heat in the small forge was almost overwhelming to Sydney, so she stayed near the door, as far away from the furnace as possible. The smith was an enormous man of not less than fifty, who was currently occupied in beating a piece of metal into what looked like it would become a plowshare. He looked up at their entry, and at the mention of the word 'banshee'.

"There's no such thing as Banshees, Connor..." Ewan informed his son firmly but gently. His voice had the strongest Irish accent Sydney had ever heard, even in Ireland. "Now why don't you get that bread home to your mother before she starts screaming like one?"

"Bye, dad! Bye, Syd!" Connor called over his shoulder as he left at a run.

The smith nodded politely to Sydney and moved the piece of metal back into a pile of coals. "Can I help you with something, ma'am?" he asked in a quite voice.

"Actually, I was just kind of curious to see what your forge looked like." Sydney smiled at the soft-spoken man. "Don't let me keep you from your work."

"You sure, ma'am?" he asked.

Sydney nodded. "Yeah, I'm sure. Please, don't let me keep you."

He shrugged and picked up the bellows. Another piece of equipment that was totally out of time and place in this medieval forge. "Not used to working for an audience..." he explained with a shrug as he worked. "You're a... scholar, Audra said?" he asked, picking up his hammer.

"That's right." Sydney nodded and sat back, watching him work for several minutes. His technique was wonderful, she decided finally, a perfect blend of techniques from at least three distinct-time periods, only the best of each.

When he finished, he turned to Sydney again. "Hot in here. Care to join me outside?"

Sydney followed him outside and accepted a cup of water from the hand-pump. "Thanks. I needed that."

He nodded. "It can get stifling in there, but it's worse in the summer."

"I can imagine." Sydney nodded.

"In the summer, it's easier only to work at night, when it's cooler."

"At night? Aren't you afraid?" Sydney asked. Everyone she had talked to so far, even the children, seemed horrified at the prospect of going out after dark.

He shrugged. "The Sidhe seldom come into the village. Now, when the moon is full, that's a different matter..." He shrugged as though this were obvious.

"You said you don't believe in Banshees?" Sydney asked.

"Well, I wouldn't go so far as to say I don't believe in them, but I've never seen one. Nor spoken to anyone who has."

"I thought Connor said Brenna had?"

"Brenna saw a ghostly woman in white near the burial-place. The children here have active imaginations. They filled in the blanks and decided it must be a Banshee." He poured himself another cup of water. "It's absurd, though. Banshees don't haunt burial-chambers. If it were one, it would be haunting the village."

Sydney nodded. Nigel was the expert in Irish folklore, so she would have to double-check with him, but she was pretty sure that Ewan was right. "What do you think it is?"

Ewan shrugged. "A Wight, perhaps. Or an apparition."

"You think it's possible that Brenna's imagining things?" Sydney asked carefully.

He shook his head immediately. "Not our Brenna, no. Girl has Audra's sense. Level-headed."

Sydney nodded. "Could it have been a human that Brenna saw?"

Ewan considered for a moment. "I wouldn't know. I don't think that there are many, at least not from this village, who would go out into the wilds after dark."

Sydney nodded. "But Brenna does?"

He nodded. "Girl knows no fear. Her faith is absolute. It's why Audra took her on."

Sydney nodded. She started to ask another question, but her jaw dropped as she saw Nigel walking towards them, arm in arm with a redheaded woman, his crutches nowhere to be seen. He was not even limping.

"Look who I found, Syd..." he said with a smile.

The woman smiled. "Good day, Professor Fox."

Sydney gave her a surprised smile and nodded. "Hi."

"Who's this?" Ewan asked Sydney, before politely adding, "Good day, miss."

Bridgit smiled at him. "Hello, smith. A good day to you as well." She curtsied. "Professor Fox, may we have a moment of your time?"

A little bemused, Sydney followed them from the smithy.

***

"Arm in arm with her, I tell you!" Brenna hissed to Audra.

Audra considered this in quiet surprise. "And you're positive that it was, in fact, our Lady?"

Brenna nodded. "It was her." She shook her head. "These are no ordinary mortals, milady."

Audra sighed. "Perhaps not. The fact remains that they are our guests. We owe them our hospitality, and how much more so now that we know that they have Her favor?"

Brenna shrugged sullenly. "What would you have me do?"

"Exactly as you are now, child. Watch them, help them if you can. Find out who brought them here and why."

"What if they are not what they claim?" Brenna asked quietly. "What if they mean harm?"

"Faith, my child."

"Always..." Brenna rose and turned to leave.

"Find them, child. See if our Lady will grace us with Her presence."

Brenna curtsied. "As you command." She turned and strode quickly from the hut.

Audra shook her head curiously. "Odd..." she whispered thoughtfully, convinced that this whole bizarre occurrence was some omen.