6. Standing Stones
The low drone of honey bees and the sound of birds merrily singing to one another from the tree-tops mingled harmoniously in Uther's ears as he breathed in the heady scent of the hot summer afternoon. The feel of the soft grass tickled at the back of his neck as the intense light from the sun burned through his closed eyelids and down into the depths of his consciousness, forcing him to shift slightly and drape his left arm over his face for shade.
This sudden movement stirred the slumbering creature lying at his side and a pale, delicate hand snaked its way across his chest to rest lazily upon his cheek, gently stroking the fine stubble of his jaw. Uther smiled contentedly beneath her touch, lifting his own hand to his chest to softly stroke the arm that rested upon it.
After the years of battles and fighting for his Brother to regain control of the throne in the Pendragon name, Uther had not thought it possible to feel such peace as he felt now. To feel such depth of love for a woman that the whole world swam out of focus in her presence. Food, thought, a sense of reason and all the responsibilities of his station flew out of the window at the mere mention of her name and here he was, lying on a remote hillside with that very woman; nothing to disturb their quiet interlude but the pleasant sounds of nature that serenaded them both.
The woman beside him now lifted herself onto her elbow and peered down at him, patting his cheek gently to gain his attention. Uther raised his arm and used his hand to shield his eyes from the sun, parting his eye just a crack and squinting up into the glorious sunshine.
"My love, we must soon be back at the Castle or we shall be missed," his companion whispered, smiling at the look of woe that crossed his face.
Uther closed his eyes again and let out a long sigh of frustration, "Surely the sun has not yet passed midday?" he grumbled into the crook of his arm.
Gentle hands eased his arm away from his face and urged him to sit up, cool fingers stroking the frown lines away from his hot skin.
He looked at her, drinking in her beauty; her long raven hair spilling down over her shoulders; intense pure green eyes the colour of sea ice gazing back at him. Reaching forward, he wrapped his fingers softly around her neck and drew her in towards him, breathing in her scent as their lips came together, a slow and ardent passion that stirred up the heat in their souls. With a small sigh he parted from her at last and let his forehead rest against hers, his right hand tenderly stroking the long velvety locks of her hair.
Tearing his eyes from the glassy depths of his lover's irises, he looked despondently at the sun, quickly calculating its position and the approximate time of day and assessing that the morning was indeed well along and that they must soon be on their way or face the scrutiny of the court of Dubhán.
"You are right of course, we must depart at once," he murmured, making no move himself to actually get up.
"You would not want to be late for your audience with my Father the King," she urged, tugging gently at his arm.
Uther ran his hands through his hair and, turning from her slightly, he rested his arms on his knees, hunching himself forward, his shoulders rounded and defensive. Plucking a blade of grass he played it between his fingers, shredding it to pieces as his eyes scanned the horizon in brooding silence.
From their vantage point on the heights of Lugnaquilla he could easily survey the hive of activity currently underway at the base of Mount Killaraus. Thirty huge slabs of naturally formed standing stones had been excavated and transported to the coast over the last few months and now just ten of the colossal rocks stood majestically outlined against the backdrop of the mountain.
"You are troubled?" Uther's companion questioned, draping her arms supportively around his shoulders and teasing her own fingers through his hair.
Uther shook his head slowly, "Simply remembering the enormity of the task ahead."
"It would not be a challenge if the task were not great," she smiled, "these stones were said to have been brought to these lands by Giants from the heart of the African continent for their healing properties. Your Druid friend has chosen his materials wisely."
"And you believe those tales of Giants?"
"I believe in the impossible," she replied simply, "yes."
"The impossible… that sums up the remainder of my mission."
"Now you are being cynical Uther – you must have confidence in your abilities."
Uther let out a great sigh and rubbed wearily at his eyes, "My abilities?" he scoffed derisively, "15,000 men I brought with me from Albion and it has taken more and more of them to shift each of these stones and sail them back over the sea. Now only a few over 3000 remain, not nearly enough to heave those last monstrous lumps of stone safely to the shore and still fewer to ensure their safe passage across the sea," Uther threw his arms up angrily to gesture at the hopelessness of his situation, "And now I have reports that my Brother suffers attacks from Saxon's daily and may be in grave danger and I am stuck on a fools mission thousands of miles from home!"
The raven haired woman stilled her fingers and sat silently by the Prince's side, her hands folded neatly in her lap and her gaze also falling to the quarry work being done below them, "My Father has offered as many men as you need to aid in your mission," she said quietly, "the alliance you offer is more than beneficial to him to meet your needs without worry."
Uther turned suddenly toward her and clasped her face in both of his hands, his eyes searching hers fervently, "Lonán you know my worries are not really for those damned stones, I just… I know I must soon return to help Aurelius but…" his words trailed off and he sat back in dejection, shaking his head at the words he had left unsaid.
"I would not wish you gone either," Lonán said, voicing the words he could not, "but we both knew this day would come, your hand is not mine to take – it belongs to Ygraine de Bois."
"A woman I have met once and care nothing for," he snapped in frustration.
"Come," the woman instructed suddenly, rising to her feet and walking lightly down the mountain slope, the long folds of her dress billowing out behind her in the breeze.
Throwing down the confetti of grass he had been toying with, Uther jogged quickly to her side, matching her stride as they made their way across the grass to the sheep trail that led all the way to the foot of the valley below.
As she picked her way nimbly among the loose rocks, Lonán hummed softly to herself, running her hands lightly over the wild flowers that sprang up all over the mountain side.
"How do you remain so carefree?" grumbled Uther, throwing a sideways glance at her as they walked.
"How can you remain so morose?" she threw back, laughing at the look that passed across his face, "You must live as the animals," she counselled, "each day as it comes."
Extending her left hand, Lonán threw a small handful of petals up in the air. As the wind began to take them her eyes took on a brief golden hue and all at once the fragments began to develop a life of their own, spinning and swirling around until the shape of a small bird emerged. The fragile creature seemed to flutter there for a few seconds before scattering into the wind in a blustering explosion of colour.
Uther's eyes softened as he watched Lonán's playful nature, "It's hard to remain so optimistic when I see our time together disappearing on that very breeze," he said, pointing at the few petals that still curled around them.
"You see only problems Uther Pendragon," she chided, throwing her arms wide and spinning around merrily, "perhaps my Father wishes to inform you today that you may have my hand in marriage and we shall live out our days in giddy bliss for all eternity!"
Uther laughed despite himself and caught her to him, wrapping his arms tightly around her waist, "And how can that be?" he demanded, "When he knows nothing of our love?"
Lonán settled her arms around his shoulders and nestled her head into the crook of his neck, "Very well Uther," she said into his ear with an exaggerated sigh, "You have beaten me with your voracious pessimism… perhaps I should simply give in to the fates and throw my doomed body from the heights of this mountain."
"Then I would simply ride to the shores of Avalon and demand your soul back from the Gods," retorted Uther with a grin, "Besides, what's the point of my delaying in the land of Éire if you are not here to entertain me with your magical petal birds?"
"Is that all you think my magic is good for?" she asked, feigning offence, "I'll have you know I would lift those very rocks that cause you such stress across the sea myself if it did not mean that you would be leaving here all the sooner because of it!"
Uther stepped back, holding Lonán by the shoulders away from him so that he could better read her expression, "You have the ability to lift those stones? Is your magic truly so immense?"
"Do you wish it to be so?" she asked, a hint of sadness in her eyes, "Do you desire to be rid of this land so hastily?"
"I wish it all," he said earnestly, his blue eyes boring into hers, "I wish to give Alwyn the monument he deserves and unite the crown and the Druid people, I wish to be in Albion now to deliver vengeance to the Saxon scum that continue to ravage the land… and I wish to have you by my side through all these trials."
"But your Brother would-"
"My Brother well knows the result of a loveless marriage; he is party to one himself."
"And what of my Father?" argued Lonán, "He has his own plans for my betrothal."
"Your Father has been falling over himself to unite his Kingdom with Albion," replied the Prince with confidence, "He would see the sense of the match in time."
"You do not know my Father…"
"And what would he do?" Uther demanded, "He could not declare war on Albion, his forces are decimated as it is from his civil war with the Northern lands."
"You are too brash my Lord," she retorted, "War he may not declare but you are in his land now – do you think that he would merrily bid you farewell with me by your side? You would not see the blade that eviscerates you for its speed."
"Then we leave by the cover of night and do not look back."
"You are serious?" she asked incredulously.
"Unless you were not… I ask again - can you lift those stones?" Uther asked bluntly.
Lonán turned once more to the looming forms of the ten standing stones, sizing up their weight and height with a critical eye. Pulling back her shoulders she levelled Uther with a look of pure determination, her heart set, "I can," she said assuredly, "If you are sure that this is what you want?"
"I will have my men on the boats by night fall," he replied without hesitation.
The raven haired woman nodded slowly, the magnitude and finality of their plans sinking in, "What if we are discovered?" she whispered quietly, the breeze picking up her words and throwing them into the wind.
"We shall live each day as it comes," the Prince replied with a smile, smoothing out the worry that lined her brow with his thumb, "Do not fret – nothing can stand in our way."
Lornán rested her head against her lover's chest… her eyes betraying the doubt that crept into the recesses of her heart.