Author's Note: Many thanks to all of you that have reviewed. They make me
feel all warm and fuzzy. Keep reviewing, and tell your friends as well.
Thanks so much!!
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Chapter 4: The Journey North
The next morning Ceara awoke early, wary of the journey that was ahead. She had taken Myechiyel's old cloak and turned it into a pack for the food that the cook had so kindly given. Myechiyel was wrapped in a new cloak which had come from a mother who had recently lost her son. Ebekah was next to wake, immediately taking note of the fact that her sister was already awake. "Why are you up so early?"
"I had to sew the food pack. The cloak only just arrived. You'd think I wanted to wake up early." Ceara turned away shaking her head.
After a moment's hesitation, Ebekah asked, "What were you dreaming? You kept screaming. A guard actually came in to see if you were being beaten." A quizzical look passed across Ebekah's face, wondering just what her sister had seen.
"I.I.," Ceara began. "I saw. so many horrible things. So much death and - oh the fires!" A spasm of terror crossed her face as last night's visions resurfaced.
"Hush, hush. It's alright. You still walk in the land of the living. Calm now, you don't want to wake Diedyia. She'll only get nosy and make you recall everything you've seen. I wish she would stop trying to undermine the family."
Even now as Ebekah spoke, the tides of Fate were turning once again. None could even dare predict what would happen in the weeks to come. Ceara pushed all vision thoughts out of her head and concentrated on getting ready. Spending time with Ebekah put a smile on Ceara's face and brightened her mood. Lord Mornay came and said that they would be leaving now and the O'Noclahns went off again. Trina was allowed to stay and it was made clear by both Ceara and Ebekah that she would be staying with them.
As the group traveled steadily north from Londinium, the winter weather grew considerably worse. Cold winds bit to the bone and snow fell, numbing even the most well clad foot. Despite the watchful eye of their grandmother, Ceara was still able to teach Ebekah to stand up for herself and not be pushed around.
"Ebekah, look at it this way; Clan O'Noclahn will fall if we aren't strong enough to resist grandmamma. All our lives we've seen the iron fist with which she rules the clan." Ceara searched her sister's face for some small hint of recognition. "What kind of wife will you be to Savin if you are still controlled by your own grandmother? It would be as if Savin never existed in your life." Ceara then knew she struck a chord deep within her sister.
They passed the next few days in almost complete silence. Only Ceara's occasional song filled the quiet air. Even the horses were quiet. Nights, however, were not so quiet. Ceara's dream-visions grew even more frequent; so much so that Ceara was afraid to fall asleep. Weary with age and long travel, Diedyia did not even bother to ask what her granddaughter's visions were of.
After a week of travel, the haggard group passed York and the North Wall which separated England from Scotland. Now in Scotland, the land appeared to be less bare and forbidding. One afternoon Ebekah said, "It 's almost like home. Not quite Donegal, Ireland, but close."
Being now in his own country, Lord Mornay was more willing to act normally. Though he was still a cold figure, he seemed more at ease with his authoritative power. One night he asked Ceara to come and speak with him. "What's a woman like you doing still tied down to your family? Most are married and have a family of their own."
He moved closer, making Ceara very uncomfortable. "Lord Mornay, if I wasn't still with my family, Myechiyel wouldn't be cared for." Ceara became very aware of the hand he had placed on her shoulder.
"Who cares for their family any more? It would be good of you to leave them. They don't need you." Mornay's voice was getting thicker as he spoke. His warm, ale smelling breath was blowing on her neck as he slowly backed her into a tree.
The next series of events were all a blur to Ceara later. All she remembered was the searing pain that ran through her head as Lord Mornay smashed it into the tree.
What had happened was this. Mornay was a lonely man; his wife had died in childbed. He saw Ceara as the perfect opportunity to fix his current situation. It had not taken much to lure Ceara away from camp. He had merely called it a late night walk to show her some of Scotland. The tree had happened to be a convenient way of getting her to submit. She had struggled, almost as much as a captive bear. Still, he managed to rip at her dress and split it down the middle. Nothing made him more excited than a young, naked woman struggling to get free. With one hand, he held her down while the other took off his own clothes. The next moment, all he felt was searing pain in his back. Spinning around, he saw a wolf pup. Damn wolf thought Mornay. Ignoring the pain, he tried to continue what he was about to start. As if right on cue, the little wolf bit again. Mornay decided to leave Ceara alone for fear of being torn to pieces.
The next morning, Ceara awoke at the base of the tree, wondering why she was lying naked in the forest. Beside her, she saw a small ball of fuzz that happened to be the same wolf pup that saved her. Gathering up her destroyed dress, she fixed it was well ash she could and took up the pup as well. She walked towards the direction that she thought was camp. About an hour later, she heard the familiar shriek that belonged to Diedyia.
"Where, on this Goddess blessed earth, is my granddaughter?!? Don't try to lie to me because it won't work. And don't even think about trying to tell me that you didn't have anything to do with this." Diedyia was very good at scaring people into telling the truth. Her grey eyes flashed with untold anger . With her curly red hair flying out of its bun, she looked like the perfect picture of the Morrigan, Lady of Death and Revenge.
In the distance, Ceara ran towards that angry voice, almost taking comfort in the motherly undertones. "Grandmamma, I'm right here." Ceara called the moment she was within hearing distance. Her small bundle poked its head up to see where it was now.
Lord Mornay immediately saw that small furry head that had cost him his fun. "get that disgusting animal out of my sight. Have it Killed for God's sake!"
"Is that anyway to talk about my granddaughter?" demanded Diedyia.
Taken aback, Mornay said, "I meant not your granddaughter. She is quite lovely. I meant the wolf pup she bears in her arms."
"You will do no such thing," retorted Ceara, like a girl half her age. "I owe this pup my life, I am quite sure of it. He will stay with me. He is a gift from the Fates. I will name him Siochona, meaning 'guard' in Gaelic." Satisfied with his name, Siochona settled down again.
The next week was as dreary as the first. Though they were in Scotland and the land had lost much of the foreboding presence that England had possessed, it was still rather barren. Winter conditions were nothing short of deadly. It took every fiber of each person's being not to succumb to the cold.
One bitter night, Ceara had the worst time getting to sleep. Each time she tried, she was only plagued with visions of that day Mornay tried to rape her. Finally, she decided that she would just have to deal with the memory if she was to have any semblance of sleep. Ceara let the memory come, endured its pain and moved on. This night, one of her dream-visions came upon her. She expected to see the same castle (that Ceara could only assume was in Scotland) and the same, young bored lord. She could remember his features quite clearly; soft brown eyes and thick brown hair. His face was framed by a cropped beard. Ceara took comfort in this picture, hoping that one day she may be ale to meet this man.
The Sight, however, had different plans. This night, she wandered the wilds of Scotland. She walked the highlands which remaindered her of Ireland and home in Donegal; she walked the deep forests. In one such forest, she came upon a man dressed in Irish garb. Ceara found it strange, but then she heard him speak; the lilting Irish brogue that she loved so much rolled off his tongue and sounded like music in her ears. His grey eyes flashed with merriment and laughter. His face seemed almost impish at times. Then, his expression changed. Gone was the laughing voice and smiling eyes. They were replaced with by the look of a seasoned warrior. Still, despite the change, Ceara still felt safe.
Ceara woke the next morning, only vaguely remembering the dream. All she could remember was the safe feeling and his face. His laughing grey eyes, and the chin length brown hair coupled with a short cropped beard. As much as she tried to recall the sound of his voice, her memory would not obey her command.
Ebekah was awake beside her sister, wondering just what Ceara was thinking about. The thought was dismissed however when the harsh cold wind blew about her. "Ceara, pull on your cloak," Ebekah chided her older sister. The sound of Ebekah's voice pulled Ceara down to earth.
"Sorry, the Sight came to me again last night. I'm just trying to figure out what it all means." There was no way that she was going to tell Ebekah about the man she saw. She would only start twisting things around and making up stories as younger sisters do.
"Just don't let Diedyia know you've been having more visions. You'd never get her off your back! And besides, it would just be one more reason for her to send you off to learn among the Druids for the rest of your life. Despite what she thinks, I know that you eventually want to settle down and have a family. You just haven't met the right man yet. Believe me, I know exactly what you're going through." Ebekah began packing up what little possessions the O'Noclahns had.
"Thank you. It's good to know that at least someone understands." Ceara called for Siochona, and he came quite obediently. When they finally had a semi-permanent home, Ceara decided that it would be in her best interest to teach Siochona to fight, hunt, and signal people. She realized that the latter was a bit far fetched, but she would give it a try.
Winter was bearing down hard, like a mother giving birth. Snow fell constantly and cold winds ravaged the poor travelers. They could do nothing to fend off the cold. It bit deeply, leaving the body numb for hours on end. The weather reminded Ceara of a song that she had heard one winter. She only remembered the last stanza, which went like;
"Then all is silent and the snow falls
Settling soft and slow
The evening deepens and the grey
Folds closer earth and sky
The world seems shrouded, far away." (Loreena McKennitt - "Snow") Starting a fire was a challenge; the cruel wind thought it would be fun to blow it out. Their best bet was just to keep moving. By the end of the third week, they reached Edinburgh.
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Chapter 4: The Journey North
The next morning Ceara awoke early, wary of the journey that was ahead. She had taken Myechiyel's old cloak and turned it into a pack for the food that the cook had so kindly given. Myechiyel was wrapped in a new cloak which had come from a mother who had recently lost her son. Ebekah was next to wake, immediately taking note of the fact that her sister was already awake. "Why are you up so early?"
"I had to sew the food pack. The cloak only just arrived. You'd think I wanted to wake up early." Ceara turned away shaking her head.
After a moment's hesitation, Ebekah asked, "What were you dreaming? You kept screaming. A guard actually came in to see if you were being beaten." A quizzical look passed across Ebekah's face, wondering just what her sister had seen.
"I.I.," Ceara began. "I saw. so many horrible things. So much death and - oh the fires!" A spasm of terror crossed her face as last night's visions resurfaced.
"Hush, hush. It's alright. You still walk in the land of the living. Calm now, you don't want to wake Diedyia. She'll only get nosy and make you recall everything you've seen. I wish she would stop trying to undermine the family."
Even now as Ebekah spoke, the tides of Fate were turning once again. None could even dare predict what would happen in the weeks to come. Ceara pushed all vision thoughts out of her head and concentrated on getting ready. Spending time with Ebekah put a smile on Ceara's face and brightened her mood. Lord Mornay came and said that they would be leaving now and the O'Noclahns went off again. Trina was allowed to stay and it was made clear by both Ceara and Ebekah that she would be staying with them.
As the group traveled steadily north from Londinium, the winter weather grew considerably worse. Cold winds bit to the bone and snow fell, numbing even the most well clad foot. Despite the watchful eye of their grandmother, Ceara was still able to teach Ebekah to stand up for herself and not be pushed around.
"Ebekah, look at it this way; Clan O'Noclahn will fall if we aren't strong enough to resist grandmamma. All our lives we've seen the iron fist with which she rules the clan." Ceara searched her sister's face for some small hint of recognition. "What kind of wife will you be to Savin if you are still controlled by your own grandmother? It would be as if Savin never existed in your life." Ceara then knew she struck a chord deep within her sister.
They passed the next few days in almost complete silence. Only Ceara's occasional song filled the quiet air. Even the horses were quiet. Nights, however, were not so quiet. Ceara's dream-visions grew even more frequent; so much so that Ceara was afraid to fall asleep. Weary with age and long travel, Diedyia did not even bother to ask what her granddaughter's visions were of.
After a week of travel, the haggard group passed York and the North Wall which separated England from Scotland. Now in Scotland, the land appeared to be less bare and forbidding. One afternoon Ebekah said, "It 's almost like home. Not quite Donegal, Ireland, but close."
Being now in his own country, Lord Mornay was more willing to act normally. Though he was still a cold figure, he seemed more at ease with his authoritative power. One night he asked Ceara to come and speak with him. "What's a woman like you doing still tied down to your family? Most are married and have a family of their own."
He moved closer, making Ceara very uncomfortable. "Lord Mornay, if I wasn't still with my family, Myechiyel wouldn't be cared for." Ceara became very aware of the hand he had placed on her shoulder.
"Who cares for their family any more? It would be good of you to leave them. They don't need you." Mornay's voice was getting thicker as he spoke. His warm, ale smelling breath was blowing on her neck as he slowly backed her into a tree.
The next series of events were all a blur to Ceara later. All she remembered was the searing pain that ran through her head as Lord Mornay smashed it into the tree.
What had happened was this. Mornay was a lonely man; his wife had died in childbed. He saw Ceara as the perfect opportunity to fix his current situation. It had not taken much to lure Ceara away from camp. He had merely called it a late night walk to show her some of Scotland. The tree had happened to be a convenient way of getting her to submit. She had struggled, almost as much as a captive bear. Still, he managed to rip at her dress and split it down the middle. Nothing made him more excited than a young, naked woman struggling to get free. With one hand, he held her down while the other took off his own clothes. The next moment, all he felt was searing pain in his back. Spinning around, he saw a wolf pup. Damn wolf thought Mornay. Ignoring the pain, he tried to continue what he was about to start. As if right on cue, the little wolf bit again. Mornay decided to leave Ceara alone for fear of being torn to pieces.
The next morning, Ceara awoke at the base of the tree, wondering why she was lying naked in the forest. Beside her, she saw a small ball of fuzz that happened to be the same wolf pup that saved her. Gathering up her destroyed dress, she fixed it was well ash she could and took up the pup as well. She walked towards the direction that she thought was camp. About an hour later, she heard the familiar shriek that belonged to Diedyia.
"Where, on this Goddess blessed earth, is my granddaughter?!? Don't try to lie to me because it won't work. And don't even think about trying to tell me that you didn't have anything to do with this." Diedyia was very good at scaring people into telling the truth. Her grey eyes flashed with untold anger . With her curly red hair flying out of its bun, she looked like the perfect picture of the Morrigan, Lady of Death and Revenge.
In the distance, Ceara ran towards that angry voice, almost taking comfort in the motherly undertones. "Grandmamma, I'm right here." Ceara called the moment she was within hearing distance. Her small bundle poked its head up to see where it was now.
Lord Mornay immediately saw that small furry head that had cost him his fun. "get that disgusting animal out of my sight. Have it Killed for God's sake!"
"Is that anyway to talk about my granddaughter?" demanded Diedyia.
Taken aback, Mornay said, "I meant not your granddaughter. She is quite lovely. I meant the wolf pup she bears in her arms."
"You will do no such thing," retorted Ceara, like a girl half her age. "I owe this pup my life, I am quite sure of it. He will stay with me. He is a gift from the Fates. I will name him Siochona, meaning 'guard' in Gaelic." Satisfied with his name, Siochona settled down again.
The next week was as dreary as the first. Though they were in Scotland and the land had lost much of the foreboding presence that England had possessed, it was still rather barren. Winter conditions were nothing short of deadly. It took every fiber of each person's being not to succumb to the cold.
One bitter night, Ceara had the worst time getting to sleep. Each time she tried, she was only plagued with visions of that day Mornay tried to rape her. Finally, she decided that she would just have to deal with the memory if she was to have any semblance of sleep. Ceara let the memory come, endured its pain and moved on. This night, one of her dream-visions came upon her. She expected to see the same castle (that Ceara could only assume was in Scotland) and the same, young bored lord. She could remember his features quite clearly; soft brown eyes and thick brown hair. His face was framed by a cropped beard. Ceara took comfort in this picture, hoping that one day she may be ale to meet this man.
The Sight, however, had different plans. This night, she wandered the wilds of Scotland. She walked the highlands which remaindered her of Ireland and home in Donegal; she walked the deep forests. In one such forest, she came upon a man dressed in Irish garb. Ceara found it strange, but then she heard him speak; the lilting Irish brogue that she loved so much rolled off his tongue and sounded like music in her ears. His grey eyes flashed with merriment and laughter. His face seemed almost impish at times. Then, his expression changed. Gone was the laughing voice and smiling eyes. They were replaced with by the look of a seasoned warrior. Still, despite the change, Ceara still felt safe.
Ceara woke the next morning, only vaguely remembering the dream. All she could remember was the safe feeling and his face. His laughing grey eyes, and the chin length brown hair coupled with a short cropped beard. As much as she tried to recall the sound of his voice, her memory would not obey her command.
Ebekah was awake beside her sister, wondering just what Ceara was thinking about. The thought was dismissed however when the harsh cold wind blew about her. "Ceara, pull on your cloak," Ebekah chided her older sister. The sound of Ebekah's voice pulled Ceara down to earth.
"Sorry, the Sight came to me again last night. I'm just trying to figure out what it all means." There was no way that she was going to tell Ebekah about the man she saw. She would only start twisting things around and making up stories as younger sisters do.
"Just don't let Diedyia know you've been having more visions. You'd never get her off your back! And besides, it would just be one more reason for her to send you off to learn among the Druids for the rest of your life. Despite what she thinks, I know that you eventually want to settle down and have a family. You just haven't met the right man yet. Believe me, I know exactly what you're going through." Ebekah began packing up what little possessions the O'Noclahns had.
"Thank you. It's good to know that at least someone understands." Ceara called for Siochona, and he came quite obediently. When they finally had a semi-permanent home, Ceara decided that it would be in her best interest to teach Siochona to fight, hunt, and signal people. She realized that the latter was a bit far fetched, but she would give it a try.
Winter was bearing down hard, like a mother giving birth. Snow fell constantly and cold winds ravaged the poor travelers. They could do nothing to fend off the cold. It bit deeply, leaving the body numb for hours on end. The weather reminded Ceara of a song that she had heard one winter. She only remembered the last stanza, which went like;
"Then all is silent and the snow falls
Settling soft and slow
The evening deepens and the grey
Folds closer earth and sky
The world seems shrouded, far away." (Loreena McKennitt - "Snow") Starting a fire was a challenge; the cruel wind thought it would be fun to blow it out. Their best bet was just to keep moving. By the end of the third week, they reached Edinburgh.