talked it will aid with sleep as well” he told them.
As he and Fianna downed the liquid he smiled. It was reminiscent of the drink they had first been served in his uncle’s home beneath the hills. The peace that he had felt in that place came back to him for a moment and seemed to suffuse through him, warming him as it went. Finnis could see the relaxation sweeping over them and laughed.
“Many are the gifts of the gods; some more comforting than others” he said.
He began then to tell them about the time they had missed. Apparently Mellan had spent a good part of the following year after their disappearance putting down the group of druids that had attempted to usurp the office of High Druid and replace the council. While successful the brutality on both sides had cost the order greatly. Fortune seemed to smile on them to some extent when they took stock of the losses for most of those that had joined the usurper had been of the junior grades, and though a great number of talented lives had been lost, the solid core of druid wisdom remained. Not one of the members of the High Council had fallen.
They had spent that spring trying to assess what had driven the rebellion. It seemed that the Druid Council of Gaul, along with the High Druid of Gaul had turned in mass and began worshipping some as yet unidentified gods from another land. The High Council had sent several adepts to investigate. As midsummer approached, with no sign of the return of their investigators, it became apparent that more trouble was at hand, though they had no way to know how it would come about.
Before the first snows the blow that would shatter the order had fallen. A fleet of ships from Eire had descended upon the druid isle, and in a week bloody fighting, and despite horrible losses, the High King of Eire had broken the druid defenses, captured Mellan, and had him executed. The King had then razed the island, leaving a smoking ruin, and denounced the druids as traitors. He had made outlaws of every druid in Eire and systematically burned their groves, arresting every druid he could find.
Finnis himself had been away, visiting a grove in the highlands of Caledonia when word reached him of the calamity. He had spent his time since then gathering information and attempting to rescue druids who had gone into hiding to avoid the King’s mad attempts to eradicate their kind. His hope had been to discover who or what was behind this continued assault upon the druids and the culture of the lands of the Gaels. Thus far, he had discovered that the High King of Eire had come into the possession of documents that suggested that the kings of Albion and Caledonia had been plotting with the druid High Council to overthrow him. The documents were forgeries of course, as a member of the council himself Finnis would have known about such a plot, and he’d personally visited the kings himself to be assured that neither had an interest in assaulting Eire.
The resulting war that had broken out between the three nations had inhibited his movements as well as the remaining members of his order. As the last remaining member of the High Council the leadership of the council fell to him, though he never felt it was his place to lead the druids. It was treacherous for him or his emissaries to travel to or from Eire, and in the end he had felt it necessary to assist the outlawed druids of Eire in person. He had spent the past few months trying to find and organize the few survivors of the High King’s unjust purge.
“If I am to restore out order, I most make a pilgrimage to each of the groves and visit with the grove leaders, convincing them of my claim. Equally important, we must find who or what is responsible for this mania that is destroying our country. This is where I believe you will find your destiny” Riordan said looking at Aeden. “I must travel to Albion and Caledonia, and in truth we must also visit Gaul if we are to truly restore our order. I would ask of you, Aeden, to remain here and seek the answer to this puzzle. I would send you as well as Fianna for you may have need of a companion in the days ahead, and I can think of no one more suited.”
Before Aeden could utter the denial on his lips Fianna spoke up. “I will go” was all that she said, but the force of her words struck all thought of naysaying her from his mind.
“Then it is settled, and I believe, for the best” interjected Finnis. “We can sail the northern route, and deposit the two of you as near to Ath Cliath as we can before we sail for Caledonia.”
With their plans thus outlined, they separated and Aeden went to see Faolan. His closest friend since either of them could venture out from their homes was wounded grievously, potentially fatally, and Aeden felt responsible.
“How is he?” Aeden asked quietly of Teagan, when Faolan appeared to be sleeping.
“He is doing great, except for feeling like a bucket full of holes” Faolan said smiling, one eye cracking open.
“The silliness will pass with the herbs before morning, and with them gone he’ll not be quite so smug, but he’ll live as long as he follows my advice” Teagan said.
Though her words were spoken in a harsh tone, Aeden noticed that she never let go of Faolan’s hand; holding it to her breast as though he might slip away if she let go.
“I’ll be alright Aeden” Faolan said. “I’ve got the best healer in all the lands.”
“Shush, you need to sleep” Teagan told him. “He really must rest” she told Aeden, dismissing him with a gesture that Aeden was compelled to obey.
“Rest well my friend” he said before moving to an open area on the deck that was out of the way of the sailors moving about manning their stations. Fianna joined him and for a while they sat quietly sharing their blankets and body heat against the cold night.
The sun peaking over the port rail awoke them. They gathered their possessions and took stock of their supplies in silence until finally Fianna spoke. “I think you have lost your shot with your little healer” she said winking at Aeden.
Aeden knew she was teasing him but he took the bait just the same. “I don’t know what you are talking about.”
“Oh don’t be a sore loser, while you were busy tangling with dark wizards, Faolan was saving our little healer’s life, not once but twice. The second time he literally dove in front of an arrow that was aimed at her. You might be a god, but your friend is going to get the girl.”
Aeden smiled. It wasn’t so long ago that he would have been angry at her teasing. So angry in fact, that he would have said something stupid and fallen headlong into her verbal trap, but in his present state of mind he latched onto a way to turn the tables on her. “Oh, well Teagan is a pretty one, but if she has set her sights on my good friend so much the better. I prefer a girl who isn’t so needy, and who is willing to tell me what she really thinks.”
Fianna stepped back like she’d been slapped. She’d been so careful never to do or say anything to let him know that she had carried a torch for him for years now. She had watched him from afar, only approaching occasionally, and that only to vent her frustration at the all too typical juvenile behavior that he and his friends displayed. She knew that there was something special about him; she just hadn’t known what it was until now. She had been jealous of the freedoms he and his friends had enjoyed, but almost everyone in Bretharc had enjoyed more freedom than she had. Her father had felt certain that she would need to be more than just well trained, and the loss of her youth had weighed heavily upon her. The look Fianna shot Aeden as she walked away to check on the others told him that for once he had gotten the upper hand on her in the jest, but at the same time it made him wonder if he had not overreached.
They buried Quinn at sea, committing his body to Mannanan. Quinn had been the one among them who had kept their spirits up when everything seemed to be falling apart, and his loss was deeply felt by all of them. Aeden had never lost anyone so close to him before, and was determined not to lose another.
Over the fortnight of their journey, Faolan regained his health slowly but steadily. By the final few days he was given leave, first by Finnis and then grudgingly by Teagan to engage in some light training with Fianna. The ship’s crew,
which Aeden was fairly certain were pirates by trade until Finnis had recruited them, had initially mocked him for training to fight under a woman’s tutelage. That had ended as they watched the skill and finesse with which Fianna handled a blade. By the second day, several off duty sailors had asked to join them.
Aeden stayed back, knowing the questions that might arise about his weapon that might arise if he joined in, and simply watched Fianna instruct men who likely had far more combat experience in the use of sword, dagger, and bow. One sailor brought out a short seaman’s axe at one point, asking her, “what about this?” Taking the axe she had swung it overhead, twirling it from hand to hand in mesmerizing patterns before suddenly launching it across the ship to lodge inches deep in the mast. He didn’t yet understand how she had come by such skill, but there were clearly things about Fianna that he didn’t know. The more he thought about it, the more he wanted to.
At this point they were sailing the northeastern coast of Eire looking for a port with just enough market to resupply their provisions, and small enough to be overlooked by anyone watching the major ports. It had been decided that Aeden and Fianna would travel inland by horse, going out of their way to visit