Chapter 9 - The Blue

The air around was cold. It was the Winter Hag, Merlin had told her - the cold was the breath of Lady White and it was her robe of sickly white that hung now from every tree in the forest. "It is only in the forest that one can truly feel Her embrace," Merlin said. "Only within the trees can such a presence be known. They are stripped of their summer garb and clothed in Her as they sleep. Do you not hear her wailing, Aranwen? She cries and she cries - birthing pains until spring. When her child is born, she shall sleep again."

"A hag giving birth to a child?" Aranwen asked, puzzled by such an image.

"It is a story twisted from afar. What the whole truth is we may never know but it makes a good story," Merlin said gently. He held his hands to the warmth of the fire. Aranwen sat opposite him, observing the wet snow that fell around them. She wanted to retreat back to the shelter of the fur draped over poles of wood and bone. She wished for the warmth of her pallet and the smell of old straw. She wished for the gentle light of her lantern. But she was testing herself and Merlin was testing her.

"Is there something troubling you, Grandfather?" Aranwen asked. Merlin looked at her, his painted face taking a peculiar shade in the light of the fire. Each wrinkle on his face counting his years and each scar, every bit of wisdom. He smiled, his lips contradicting the way of his eyes. He touched the dark hair about her face in an affectionate manner.

"I watched you ride," he said in a whisper. His hoarse voice added a new tone to the sound of the mournful wind. "On the hills, Aranwen, when you were small. You hair flew behind you as raven wings. You were not afraid."

"You watched me?" Aranwen asked, not certain about whether to be surprised or not.

"The trees watched you, Aranwen. And when your presence was no longer so frequent outside the walls, we were saddened. Our only hope was trapped inside a wall built to keep us out." Merlin sighed, his gnarled hands grasping her own protectively. "You are here, young one - we feared you were lost to us when the death bells tolled."

"No," Aranwen said with a faint smile, "you have not lost me, Grandfather. I have found you." A troubled shadow descended upon her face. Merlin pressed something cold into her hands. It was a little clay bowl, chipped around the rim. In it was a peculiar blue substance. Aranwen knew what it was.

Aranwen dipped her fingers into the blue and smeared it across her palm. She remembered suddenly her mother's arms around her. Dark hair curtained her face as arms painted blue surrounded her. A song was whispered in her ear and a childish laughter sounded. Her mother's strong arms raised her up to bid farewell to her father.

"Woad," she breathed. Merlin nodded."It is what we are... Aranwen, you will return. You will not stay with us forever. You will go backand reclaim what is yours. Morgaine will not hold the throne for long, Aranwe, but there is an enemy far greater than that of Morgaine."

"I do not understand."

"Our scouts returned this night from the north. They had journeyed there to our other villages. They observed the shores from afar - they saw them, child. It is the enemy we though had left long ago but they have returned. They had spent the last years building ships - many ships. Those ships have lined our shores. It is only a matter of time until they reach here." Merlin was solemn, his eyes so cold that Aranwen was afraid to look at him. A terrible shiver shook her body. The blue no longer looked right on her skin.

"The Saxons have returned?" she asked. Until then, all her little fears had seemed so important. Now, the wind was louder the darkness even more dark. She was not alive when such a terrible force contaminated the land. Butfrom her mother's stories - and even Lucan's - she had imagined it all.

"Will you wear the blue?" Merlin asked her. Aranwen did not answer. She was not even sure if she could ever be one of them now. Woad by blood was not good enough. Merlin pressed the hilt of a sword into her vacant hand. Aranwen dropped it - cringing at the sound of metal against rough sand. It was a shameful sound and she picked the sword up again. It was was not a new thing to her for she had held a sword before and she wondered if she was betraying her father's memory by not holding Excalibur in its place. "It was mine... I can no longer fight, Aranwen - you must take it. The gods etched those markings on the blade. And the gods wove these symbols into the scabbard. It is not for luck - the gods will watch over you."

"The gods do not watch over their own!" a voice screamed from one of the shelters. "They have betrayed us... Merlin, they do not care for their people!" The girl wrung her hands anc clenched her fists. Her voice rose high and shrill like the winter air. Aranwen heard the fear and the desperation. The girl threw herself at Merlin's feet. "Merlin, Merlin - we must go... we must leave this place." Her eyes suddenly fell upon Aranwen's shadow and she drew away abruptly, scrambling to her feet in a clumsy manner.

"Forgive me, forgive me..." she pleaded softly. "I did not see..." her tattered garments blew around her almost frantically as others tried to take her away. "Guinevere... Guinevere? Aunt!" she screamed. Aranwen looked to Merlin for an explanation.

"The last time she saw you mother was when she was a child. She is your cousin, Aranwen... her name is Rhian." Aranwen nodded but did not ask what had happened to Rhian. She would soon find out.