 
The Druid King

Devin Elean McKaeraer

By

Laura Joyce Moriarty

Copyright 2012 by Laura Joyce Moriarty

All rights reserved.

Request for permission to make copies of any part of this work should be mailed to the following address:

fourrosesandbrownpublishing@mail.com

In Memory of

George Persely

Passed October 2012

[Ireland] Land of Heart's Desire,

Where beauty has no ebb, decay no flood,

But joy is wisdom.

Yeats

About the book:

The Druids are a mystery even today. Some say they were the only knowledgeable and holy people in existence three thousand years ago. Others say they were cryptic magicians who not only believed in reincarnation, but ate humans. The truth may exist somewhere in the middle of these extremes.

We do know that they were known and revered among foreigners for a thousand years as an extremely advanced culture. This historical conundrum makes sense if you imagine that they had to keep their knowledge to themselves through their oral histories to stay safe from relentless aggressors.

In this story, the Druid King, Devin Elean McKaeraer, chief of Fir Umaille, struggles to keep his forest people in the land of Erin protected and their precious knowledge from barbaric interlopers.

Prologue

The mysteries of the Irish Druids were the obsession of many foreigners in ancient times. Often elites from other lands wanted to commingle with these mysterious natives in the hopes that one of their own children might be born with the great knowledge of these unusual peoples. Others believed that their offspring were born with their inherent knowledge and it could be milked out of them as if they were animals, and as a consequence, many of their children were stolen. Still others believed that they came from evil roots and that they sacrificed their own people, burning their most revered in secret ceremonies.

And yet, most of what has been passed down from one generation to the next reports that these people were the most holy, most wise, and most generous of any people from the earliest recorded human history. This obsession with the Irish Druids and learning their secrets was a point of constant fascination in faraway lands, including Rome.

They say the Chinese sent their most distinguished scholars to learn how to maintain the extraordinary discipline needed to recite interminably long passages of prayers, songs, and poems---including laws, and judgments. But most desirable was their reputed knowledge of science and nature.

Some of these foreign scholars suspected that the wizardry of the Druids was not as mysterious as some had perceived. They knew that much of it was due to the learning and knowledge accumulated over many years and then condensed into mnemonics. What they didn't know was how they kept their knowledge secret. They could not understand the incredible mastery of underground records and community self-restraint. And they guessed much of it was due to luck. During those times, few, if any of the world's peoples understood the concept or value of rationing and husbandry.

They had also heard of the Druid's reputation for wisdom and courage, and of marvels---of how one Druid could bring warring factions to conciliation in the midst of a battle---of how small numbers of their strange soldiers spent more time on meditation and writing prose than fighting each other in Coliseums---and yet were fearsome.

Chapter One

Thunder in the Distance

"I'm afraid my husband," said Máire. "Many of the birds have left the forest for the west."

"Which birds have left?" asked Devin.

"The raptors---the eagles, crows, the vultures, the pigeons----all of these are flying away from the forest in great numbers."

"Yes, husband," said Geneviève. "And yesterday, I walked to the plateau in the north. I saw the haze of black smoke rising far to the east. We fear warriors have landed on the island."

"We've lived ten years without invaders. We've been lucky. I suppose we are overdue. How many people live in our forest now?"

"We have eight bands in our quadrant of the forest. We are the smallest. All of the others have grown and their numbers range from ten to twenty."

"Good. Máire. Send the messengers to each band and warn them to prepare for the invaders. The bands to our east must be prepared first. We are lucky. It is the first of March. It is the best time of the year to gather our weapons.

Prepare the florescence and raspberry preserves.

Gather the archers who earned the grand emblem. They must go with me to meet the invaders. They may unearth the pits and dig out all the saved copper for melting on the arrowheads."

He stopped giving his commands and seemed to be lost in thought for a moment. He wondered if all the correct information on their famous skill had been properly preserved in case they were all lost---all including the few chosen people who had been selected to hide in order to preserve their clan.

I hope the forest people have saved the most precious of their knowledge---the skills used to make the world's finest arrows long before other tribes understood the subtleties of arrow spines and the role of fine bird feather fletchers.

Only the head of all the clans, he himself was privileged to house the grand archers in his band. They were the teachers for the other bands. It was their only responsibility. Of the top twenty of these men who were the most excellent, four would be his personal protectors. Four would go into hiding in case the invaders won the battle and remained on the island. Three would be assigned to each quadrant to command the rest of the archers. It was because Devin allowed them to spend all their time refining their skills and testing various construction methods. Day in and day out, these men practiced until their movements were so swift, one could hardly see their motions. They may have been lucky for the wood from the larch tree, a conifer from their own lands, was perfectly suited to the craft. It's strong but equally durable soft wood and unusually dense grain was found to be the most reliable and easily manipulated. It was the archers' responsibility to make tools that would allow the craftsmen to ply the wood through precisely measured circular barrels so that each arrow would strike perfectly. Each shaft was measured and re-measured on scales with grains of sand that had been counted meticulously. Unlike their enemy's arrows, theirs would correctly bend around their thin bows. Their enemies could not understand how their finely hewn weapons could strike with such force and accuracy. Devin relaxed again as his thoughts calmed his mood.

"Geneviève. We will use all of the slime, but only the blue and white paints.

Make sure our band has plenty of ores and minerals for our compounds and ask everyone to prepare additional powders.

Have Shea run to each quadrant and help hang the twine from the trees all along the eastern and northern sides of the forest. Raise the wickers. Set the Natterjacks' traps.

Send the lookouts to the land of the Green Vales. They must be prepared to stay until the full moon.

I will leave our home in two days and visit all of our people and make sure they are prepared."

"But husband, surly they are all prepared and know what to do. It is our most important law. We allow all their freedom in exchange for a united protectorate. You must go to our temple in the ground and save yourself for us. The enemy will be looking for you, and if you are captured, they will torture you for your knowledge. You know what happened to our brother. His mutilated body was brought home dead after ten years of torture."

"Yes, please husband," said Máire. "Please hide yourself. You are too old for battle and you are our greatest living compendium."

"Yes. And I have the responsibility to make sure all are prepared. We can assume nothing. You must understand and be calm. Our sons and even my grandson have all earned our band's highest honors---all that our leaders are allowed to grant," said Devin. "We have many others among us who are capable. This may be my last battle. Colin knows where my stones are kept. He will be in charge of reciting the directions. The name of my heir will emerge from my body if I die.

I must retire to the cave. If there is swifter movement than expected you may come get me. Otherwise, I will need the extra time to prepare."

The two women began to mourn their husband despite the fact that he had not yet died. He was very old compared to the age of his clan, and had been ready to die for many years. Still, he was held in the highest esteem and the most revered from all the bands and had the most successes of any Druid. And while the people tended to quarrel among themselves, and with many of their leaders, they listened to the instructions of Devin Elean McKaeraer, chief of Fir Umaille, with attention and obedience.

It had been his instruction to prepare based on any such supposition---real or imagined invasions, and if there was waste or inefficiencies after the invaders left, there would be no complaints.

He knew there was a slight risk that he might be wrong . . . but it was very small. He felt sure the invaders would be ferocious. He had dreamt about them for months and knew even if he had read the signs incorrectly, it didn't matter. His masterful mind told him that they had been lucky to go so long without any battle and one was due.

Devin went into his cave and stood in the dark for a while before opening his eyes. When he did, relief fell over him like a warm spring shower. Everything he had planned was ready. He had been moving among the leaders for years making sure they had all memorized the final process for survival of the clans.

This is what the Druid families did throughout their history. It showed respect to their monotheistic God who had blessed their Land of the Church to their west, and belief in reincarnation. They were taught how to accept what they could not see for they had learned that what they saw was only a tiny bit of what existed.

Devin proved this to each of his followers. He would search for the exact stone to make his point. As his young priests gathered around him, he would ask them if they knew all that was inside a large crusty and cracked stone and they all agreed---more of the same. Then he would club the stone until it opened in a spray of pieces, and show the participants what had been hidden inside. Many different shades of color and odd living organisms would be revealed.

"How is this stone different from the others?" he would ask, and then prove his point---that inside each there were differences so abundant that they could not all be named. And then he would point to the hill far across the landscape, and then to a tree or a lake.

"How can you say what exists in each? There is so much more there that we don't know and cannot see than what we do know and can see."

"And how do we know there is another life waiting for us?" one would ask.

"Because our history has recorded many accounts of life experiences after mortal death. In our own lifetime, we know this because we have an account of a woman here in our own band, who died and was brought back to a breathing life. She told us about her experience after she was pronounced dead. She said she never passed through a point that made her think she was dead. She just kept on being conscious as if nothing had happened. But when she looked around she could see people standing over her crying. That is when she knew they thought she was dead. Yet, she said, she visited a beautiful beach where she spoke with her father. She thinks it was her father, but she wasn't sure because he looked like the man she loved, and yet he spoke as if he were someone else. She was asked if she wanted to go on to her next life or to help him save the lives of others. She chose to help him. When she recovered she revealed what she had seen and understood. She taught each of us how the spirit works---how it is transported through grace, and the great prayer that had been given to her.

In the original sense of divine,

Handed down from our Mother,

our Father was born in heaven.

A monotheistic God of early fame,

hallowed by His Word, His Name.

He sent a call for advocacy,

showing how his kingdom would come.

A hope for universal love.

Chapter Two

First Love

Now alone, worried, and filled with terror, he repeated the phrases several times in peace and then let his mind face his fears, for he knew what to expect---brutality and unexceptional stupidity. It was time to once again destroy the words that had been written and taught for the past three generations.

He lit the many sconces that lined the walls of his peoples' private sanctuary. There were several columns of uneven stones stacked in rows of shelving that were covered with soot making the wall look like nothing more than exposed earth. He lit a candle and set the flame to the top stone that had been covered in oil. The flame burned evenly and then escaped between the crevices to the rows below and then below that, until it reached the lowest row of slate. Each had been tucked into place with a fine layer of oil so that when it was necessary to conceal their knowledge, it could be accomplished quickly. As the flames spread down through the crevices, he opened the flues above each column letting the caustic smoke rise into the sky for all the other bands to see and follow his lead. The slates of records would be singed clean.

This was not an easy task for Devin. He often wondered if it wouldn't be better to share their knowledge with the world and let others gain from it. But there was also evidence that shared knowledge with outsiders led to corruption and vileness, as few people were as disciplined as he had been taught and had similarly instructed the forest people. Others would learn what they wanted and then be lazy, perverting the knowledge that needed to be grown. This was unacceptable to the clans. The worst example was when they were taught how to kill animals or catch fish more efficiently. Many would kill far more than they needed, either for fun or laziness. Then a great deal of food would be wasted.

All the Druids taught the people to kill what they needed to eat and not more unless they were willing to share their bounty which was encouraged. Few outsiders were keen on sharing, and in fact, stole at the least provocation. So the forest people had always shared their knowledge orally with each other, and then once learned erased their work by burning the surface of their stones.

When the vault was clear, he closed the flues and several workers in the clan spread topsoil and fresh greenery on the roof over the openings of the cave. Within days, it would look as natural as the rest of the growth.

Then Devin sat on his shelf where he usually sat in front of his pupils, he mourned the death of his recorded history as he had done once before.

When he closed his eyes, an unexpected weariness swept through him as the thought of facing another enemy overwhelmed him. He was not afraid of the enemy or death. But he was afraid that his frailty would betray him and that he would not fool the barbarians. He worried for his people. But then, he asked his Divine power to forgive his arrogance and prayed to keep them safe as they had been kept in the past.

The responsibilities he had managed over the years weighed heavily on his mind, and he could feel his eyelids involuntarily close and the need to remember something important. He stretched his mind hoping the right moment that held some unidentifiable critical information would emerge before he fell into a deep sleep that would bury the memory.

He thought back to the moment he saw his first love Máire dancing around a Maypole with an assorted bunch of yellow and lavender wild flowers in her hand. She was laughing loudly and yelling at all the other girls, trying to get their attention for some trivial reason, but it didn't matter to him if she was silly. He was more than serious enough for two, and needed someone cheerful and gay to fill up his heart. He asked his friend Jamie about her.

"Do you see the one with the red hair and freckles?"

"She'd be hard to miss," he laughed.

"I think I'll marry that one."

"You're so young. Why get married now?

"Why not? I've been a student of merciless instruction since I was five. I believe I love that freckled brat. She's a gay one with the biggest smile I've ever seen."

"Yes, but once you're married, you won't be allowed to go off on any adventures with the rest of us."

"I'm rarely allowed now. My teacher prefers that I walk in his footsteps and the shoes of the grand patron of our band are often painful. He has been hoping I would have the patience for his scholarly work permanently. I'll carry on with some of it, but now I'm ready for the exciting part---the sciences. So far it's been history, prayer, recitations, and such. It's all very interesting, but I've decided my superior knowledge will be in discovery, invention, and nature. I've already started to do some research on my favorite topics. This young wife of mine might enjoy experimenting with me."

"Why do you think so?"

"Because she doesn't look like the type of woman who would enjoy being bored with repetitive duties. I know."

"How do you know?"

"I know because she doesn't look a thing like me." They both laughed.

"That's true. And she's a big girl. I bet she's as tall as you are."

"Not quite, but I think almost. Still I like her flaming curls, and I can see her blue eyes all the way from here."

"I thought you said you wanted a woman who can sing. You wanted to teach someone our songs to pass along."

"Yes, you're right. I did say that. Do you know anyone here who knows her?"

"No, and I'm leaving before one of them wants to snap me up."

"You're dreaming."

"Dreaming or not, I'm not ready." Jamie turned his reins on his horse and took off. "Good Luck!" he yelled back.

Devin was not one for long conversations and he dreaded trying to conjure up one. Still he wanted to know her name and so saw a distant cousin participating in the dance and waved. She ran over to him.

"What?" she asked Devin.

"Do you know the name of that lass?"

"The one with the red hair? Don't think about her. She's spoken for already."

"And how's that? She's at the Maypole."

"Yes. She may not have convinced her lover to propose yet. But she's set her cap on Captain Gerald Fitzhugh from up in Mayo and he's set his on her. I saw him once. He holds onto her like he was leading a filly. She doesn't seem to mind."

"But he's gone for the next year at least."

"She doesn't care. She's in love."

"I see," said Devin as his cousin ran off to rejoin the festivities. Devin continued to sit on his horse a while longer . . . not quite so afraid of the girl now. He had heard of Fitzhugh. He had a reputation for being quite the seducer, as well as a ruffian, and a dunce. He waited until she finally acknowledged his stare. She was clearly thumbing her nose at him and he knew it. Then he turned his stare away from her.

Chapter Three

What Does She Know?

His eyes drifted over to Maura Kea, the priestess, as she watched the lovely maidens enjoy their annual celebration. It was the one day of the year they had the right to demand a husband of their choice. It was the one day that the island's most prominent judge would intervene on any woman's plea for divorce or compensation. And the quiet priestess was well-renown for her wisdom and kindness.

She was the daughter of a Druid from up north, and as much a wizard as any Druid known to the forest people. But she preferred to offer her services throughout the island and had no permanent home.

Devin's tutor, the Umhal Oíde had thought about asking her to honor their home, but because they had no women living with them, he thought better of it. Still he sent her a message explaining his predicament and asking her to make up her own mind. She chose to stay with a recent widow.

Devin stared at the lady a long time hoping that she would take him into her confidence sometime in the future when he became the Druid. He could not see the features of her face clearly, but had heard that she was beautiful beyond what was known of fair maidens. She was dressed in long white robes and was covered in flowers brought to her by the women who attended the festival.

Despite her distance from him, he could make out her violet-blue eyes as they seemed to hold command over the entire land that had been given to him. Her black hair flowed down to her elbows and in her right hand she held a staff of black root they said was as tall as she was. They said that when she was a young maiden, she had escaped slavery and was running from a cruel and ruthless owner. As she was escaping, she was praying for strength, when suddenly an oak tree shook as if it was going to be pulled out of the ground and a giant root emerged. They said a voice told her to cut the root and use it to give her strength. She did as she was told, but did not understand how carrying a heavy root could help her. As soon as she finished the distressing task the earth shook again, and she was sucked into a hollow and covered with dirt. As she lay hidden and holding on to her root, the cruel man who had owned her passed by the oak tree in fear as he heard the loud rumblings, and felt the earth move under his feet. Panic over took him as he saw large cracks in the earth open and large stones tumble around as high as his waist. He took off for his home and never returned.

Meanwhile, Maura Kea fell into a deep slumber and saw a vision of herself shining as she stood in the middle of a large blue lake. When she woke, the root had straightened and shown like a silver star. When she picked it up, it was light and yet, helped her walk as she journeyed across the land. The story said that the staff would take control of her journey, leading her to berries and fruit in the meadows and fish in the lakes.

They said she could change the staff into a sword or a snake or make it disappear in a second and then come back into sight at her command and that it could choke a man in seconds. They said she was the most feared woman on the island and no man ever crossed her.

Devin didn't change his expression or move as the priestess had captured his gaze. He just sat on his horse a while longer hoping that she would summons him. He searched his mind for something he might have learned about the affairs of the heart---maybe she could help him understand why the redhead was not attracted to him, for as sure as he sat on his steed against the wall of stone behind him, he knew the priestess desired him. But why he wondered. He had heard she was old---almost twice his age.

And then she moved as if she were a ghost, off to the hollow of stone directly across the field from him. His eyes followed her and yet, still he did not move. As time passed, the festivity on the Maypole ended and the crowd moved off to the stream in the west where they would eat and sing. The small field fell silent.

No one dared speak to the priestess for she had seemed to go into a trance as she often did when she prayed. The redhead had noticed her admirer, and was somewhat surprised---even a little jealous when she noticed his gaze had drifted over to the priestess. She actually waited to see if she could recapture his gaze and she could not. Well, I don't care, she said to herself. She is old anyway, and so she ran off with her friends.

"I feel your distress," the priestess said. As she spoke Devin noticed the others had not heard a word, and yet, despite the distance from him, he heard her as if she was standing next to him. He was going to figure out how such a thing could happen.

"Do not be so concerned with your looks. You are still so young---seventeen I think? You see your hair as a disadvantage---so curly and thick. That is why you wear a braid on the top of your head and another down your back----to mask its massiveness and strange frizz. I will send a messenger to you tomorrow, and she will bring you a flask of special oil that will tame it for you, and make it feel soft and look desirable. And yes, your lips are large and darkly hued for a man's, but as you age, they will seem to shrink in size as your cheeks fill out with the pleasant robust fullness of a grown man. Your lips will seem much smaller and look customarily pink. You will be handsome beyond your greatest expectations. But you will not attract your redhead even then, for she has set her heart on a man with golden hair and angelic smiles that she finds seductive. Such magnetism cannot be explained. Nevertheless, she will discover his cruelty and come to you in time."

Devin found himself struck dumb by the information and a cold breeze passed through him as he worried about his gay redhead.

"Do not worry. She will survive easily, because she is strong. But she will not desire you---not as you wish, nor as I do."

"Tell me how the staff works," he said in a demanding voice.

She turned it towards him horizontally.

"It is hollow and thin. It is white on one side and black on the other. I can put a sword or snake into it and let it lose at will, hiding the root in the folds of my gowns. I can turn the white side towards the sun and it will gleam like a pearl. It is not as magical as presumed, but it does keep me safe."

"The sun's hues can change its color then?"

"Yes. Now. When I return to our lands to love you as you need, you will know me by my song."

At that, the priestess sang a few lines of a hymn not known to him. He closed his eyes trying to memorize the lilt, but when the melody had drifted off and he opened his eyes again, the enchanting priestess was gone. Devin suddenly felt a very strong love for her. Once she had gone, a sense of great emptiness swept over him and he was near tears for his loss.

How could she return to him? he wondered. She would only grow older and they would be incompatible.

He hoped his tutor would guide him through his feelings. He wanted the priestess to come to him now. Finally, he rode off towards the west---off to his cave and his training.

Chapter Four

A Yearning That Can't Be Explained

As the months passed by, Devin rarely saw the redhead that made him yearn for a female companion. And then he heard the news that broke his heart---she was to marry Captain Fitzhugh from Mayo County within a fortnight. She would be living at home until the captain decided it was necessary to build or buy a place for the two of them, but the man would be out to sea for months at a time and he had no family for her to live with up north---or so he said.

Devin was specifically uninvited to the wedding ceremony which he did not understand. Why would anyone care? Why would she care if he showed up? The whole village was invited except for Reuben who was mad as a hatter, and a sheep farmer who lived by the coast with his blind daughter.

She wouldn't even give him a second look, so why? It was embarrassing. He knew everyone wondered why. Even Devin's tutor, the Umhal Oíde, who was officiating the ceremony wondered why, and asked him if he had done something to offend her.

"I don't even know her name and we've never spoken."

"I see," said his Umhal Oíde understanding the unspoken words that had passed between the two of them.

"What do you see?"

"In time you will learn. Right now, the lass is about to be bound to another and it's best to forget she exists."

It was just a suggestion from the teacher who was also his friend, but it was instruction as well, so that is what he did. The law allowed him to challenge Fitzhugh for the lady's hand and if he won, she would have to accept him. But in the end, he sadly accepted the affront as if he had expected it. He even felt guilty for having looked at her with what he was sure were devouring eyes. The day of the wedding came and he considered riding his steed over to a hill close by and watching from a distance as his first love married by the sea. But then on second thought, someone might notice and he knew it was unwise to instigate gossip. So Devin retreated to his studies that day, wishing his priestess would show up unexpectedly and cure his aching heart.

Over time, his yearning dissipated as he learned and gained some notoriety among his peers. He began to enjoy his status, and success helped him put the redhead out of his mind. It was not easy, but he devised a system of picking a few things that he loved and every time his mind started to waver and think of the pretty girl, he thought instead of something else. When he couldn't control the desires he felt, he would go into his cave and start repeating his memorizations until he no longer felt the pang of loneliness. Occasionally, he thought of the mysterious priestess and wondered if he would really see her when she returned . . . and when would that be?

Two years passed, and Devin reached his nineteenth birthday. He was finally allowed to study the sciences and secrets of the Druids. He was most drawn to the study of alchemy, and what he might discover about the rich chemicals and minerals found in their part of the island.

He spent hours grinding down various salts and alkaline deposits and mixing them with dozens of different ingredients. He discovered one new combination of powders that would dry up immediately when mixed with fermented juices. He rubbed it over his body and noticed that his skin looked like he had leprosy. It dried and clung in seconds and then was difficult to rub off without a strong astringent he made with soap, aloes, and malt. But the strange looking covering left no damage and would eventually flake off by itself over time.

He loved examining the power of nature. He collected spider webs, and finally made his own cocoons that could be used as fly traps that could hold hundreds of healthy flies for hours. He fashioned weeds into round balls and would fill them with ripe fruit until thousands of insects could be trapped and then throw them into a pond or just somewhere out on the road to see how they might swarm.

He collected poison from the Natterjack's skin and experimented with them constantly. He would dilute their poison and then put tracings of it in water tanks of his own making to see if the flies would eat plants that soaked up the poison in their roots, and then watch to see if they would die. He would experiment with different quantities of the frog's poison when growing various eatable leafy plants. The clan already knew that the reddish brown toads should be avoided, but had never measured the amount of poison excreted or the seriousness of the damage it might cause. It was deadly enough as an immediate agent, but they needed large quantities to sneak into food. He discovered that the popularly ate leafy vegetable plants would absorb the poison if it was put in the soil and then would make a person sick for days if even a few leaves were boiled in their stew. This he knew because he secretly experimented on himself.

His tutor was not happy when he found out what Devin had done and while it was helpful, made him promise not to experiment on himself again. Devin loved the man's concern but believed the long term knowledge for the clan was more important and continued to take risks. He was sure that it would save lives someday---and he was right. All of these experiments were both interesting and time-consuming and Devin thought of nothing else for years. He had little time for selfish indulgences. He rarely went to one of the clan's festivities unless he was instructed to do so, and after another two years had passed, his tutor had heard rumors of the fate of the dear redhead who had married hastily. It was time, he thought, that my young Devin have a chance to repair a broken heart and change his fate.

"Tomorrow we'll be going over to visit your cousins who live in the west."

"That sounds like a well-needed break. Did someone die? Or is someone marrying?"

"Does there have to be such an extraordinary event for us to visit our family?"

"Yes. I would suspect so. I've not been out and about for years."

"But today, we will begin a new phase of your education. You will learn about the whims and anxieties of your own band. You will decipher the meaning of their attitudes, and understand the values behind their gossip or how they express their memories.

Every phrase can be interpreted and misinterpreted and the wise priest knows the connotation of words---how much of what they say is explicit expression or inference---possibly something related to their emotions. You must learn to sort out the closest explanation to reality when you hear your people. How else can you make a judgment about the truth of their words?"

"I see. You are right. I know little of human communication and exchange. I admit I am not patient or well instructed in this area. But most must be good, or our history would be different."

"You are right. They have taught each other enough to know that it is important to trust the learned."

"And hopefully to add to our knowledge."

"Yes. Sometimes our farmers and island experts offer new knowledge."

"In other words, you know where we are going and what you expect to learn?"

"Yes," said the tutor smiling.

Chapter Five

Off to the West

Devin and his ancient tutor rode for almost a day until they arrived at their destination at sunset. The warm breeze from the ocean welcomed them and brought back memories of the gorgeous, luscious green land that provided their families with rich resources---great grazing pastures, many rabbits, and birds used for stews and soups, ocean and fresh water fish, and an endless supply of stone for their cottages.

During this era, many cottages were built with low roofs and heavy thatch. And many were built against hills so the family could retreat when threatened by invaders. Still their rough construction looked inviting against the beauty of the sun's rays and turquoise blue mist that rose up from the sea.

"Welcome cousins," said the tall man called Robert. He was strange looking compared to most of his tribe that were either red-haired or dark. Robert had a red beard and eyebrows, and red hair on his arms and chest that rose up in large tufts out of his perfectly sewn tunic. But the hair on his head was black as coal. No one in his generation had ever seen one like him before, but Devin and his tutor knew well that various human reproductions could carry features and behaviors of many of their parents and relatives. Still, it was not important for those who lived in rough environments---what they needed was a knowledge of how to live, reproduce, and adapt to various physical environments. So as all members of their bands, they had learned to ask for advice---Should this appearance be considered normal or questioned, and their priests would answer, this is perfectly normal, and the clan would accept the knowledge that had been handed down for thousands of years.

On the other hand, the priests would gather new knowledge discovered by the clan---the clay from our north will bake in our ovens and create better bowls than the mud from the south.

Then the priests would watch the process of molding ceramics and create an indexed set of instructions that could be passed down using mnemonics to other leaders from other clans and the process will preserve the knowledge for years to come.

Devin remembered brief sightings of the man with the red beard when he was a child, and now wondered if he knew of the redhead that had moved back with her family after marrying Capt. Fitzhugh. He was surprised that the man's red hair brought back the clear memory of the one he had hoped to love. But he held his tongue as he had been taught for years. How could one learn if one didn't listen to those who knew less?

And so with reserved excitement, he and his Umhal Oíde followed their host into their humble abode with pleasure and politeness. The cottage seemed small inside because it was long and narrow, but had purposely been built to have many windows and doors face east and west so the stones would collect the heat from the sun. The shades over the large windows were made from whale skin that was rolled up to let in the light of day and let down in the cool evenings to keep the heat in. It was a rare night that the house was too cold.

"I've created a new recipe for our cider wine. I call it a hot Meade because this wine is heated with spices we took off an invader many years ago. We were not sure of their healthy attributes or tastes. But now I am satisfied with both and can explain them after supper."

Devin could see Robert's pride, for all the families from the Land of the Church took credit for being original people of all original people who had learned how to invent from their great mother who started their clan many thousand years before. Devin hoped to remember the way he expressed his facts so that he could discuss them with his tutor on their way home. Now he understood exactly what his tutor was talking about---how to understand what was inferred by the man's expressions and gestures. It was an important part of his learning.

After supper Robert described his recipe for his wine. "You can use any red wine you like---in fact, the worse the brew the better," he laughed. "But a good port is the best. Pour two full liters of wine and equal amounts of water into the kettle. Slice four or five apples in two and throw them into the brew. If you're lucky enough to have a piece of citrus lying around throw that in, along with a couple of plums.

Now here, let me show you the spices I collected from our Asian friends who visited a few years back. I've had to test them over time, because I really didn't know what to do with them. These are cloves, and these sticks are called cinnamon. These odd looking things are dried apricots pieces including the skins which are fine to use as is. You can add some honey or anything you have traded that is sweet. Just throw all of it into the pot and simmer all day."

When Robert added his opinions along with the directions, Devin had to make a mental note because they rarely passed along information that wasn't exact. They would have to experiment with the brew themselves before they could add the recipe to their house of knowledge.

"These are dried grapes that have a wonderful flavor and can be stored for long periods of time in the keepers. It seems that no matter how much of one or another ingredient I add, the brew is always wonderful and makes our hearth smell delightful."

They sat for a few moments silently because Robert and his family knew the information would have to be mentally recorded and it would take Devin a few moments to arrange the facts in a form that could be memorized in seconds.

After a few more jolly moments and a story from their father the younger children were sent to bed and Robert and his wife and his two brothers and their wives along with a couple of the older children sat in the kitchen area around the table by the fire.

The visitors weren't sure if there was going to be a private time for the family or if they should excuse themselves, for it was the Druids' custom to retire to the stables to sleep with the animals.

Chapter Six

Devin's Heart Strings Strum

"I suppose you've heard about Máire?"

"We haven't," said the Umhal Oíde. "But I have heard that there were some family quarrels the clan had tried to resolve without any luck, and so we came to help."

Devin was caught off guard. He had heard no such thing, and didn't know if they were talking about the same Máire he had desired . . . except possibly . . . long forgotten memories started flooding back. He almost started to sweat. He immediately changed his thinking. He started a sequence of mental exercises to counteract his physical reaction to the news. He stopped listening until he had regained control of himself.

"It seems that our infamous Capt. Gerald Fitzhugh has been sewing his oats outside his comfortable home . . . if you can call it that. He never did find the money or time . . ."

"Excuse me," said Robert's wife, Jeanne. "He had plenty of money and resources to build a home. He just didn't want to part with any of it for the benefit of his Máire. He used her for sex and that's it. She won't admit it, but Caroline knows enough to have dropped some hints my way."

"Do you think Máire has told her what really went on?" asked the teacher.

"She'd admitted nothing until recently---after she was married two years. And even then she was barely alive thanks to him."

"Tell us what you know," said the Umhal Oíde.

"I can't tell you all---I mean some of it is private and she'd be too embarrassed. She made me promise," said Caroline.

"If you want to save her life, it's best you tell us everything you know."

Caroline blushed. Everyone was looking at her.

"I told mam almost everything. I don't know why she can't tell you."

Jeanne spoke up.

"Yes. Caroline told me some things which I will gladly tell you, but she will have to fill in the rest.

When Máire first married, Fitzhugh took off after only two weeks. She seemed physically OK, but the joy from the girl was gone. We had certain expectations---that she would return to the vibrant personality we knew even if it took a while, but she didn't. She looked completely forsaken. I was a friend of her mother's and she began to worry about her as soon as he left unexpectedly. Máire seemed easily irritated and resentful about living at home almost from the beginning.

By the time six months had gone by, and she was still living with her parents, her mother reported that she was pregnant and almost hysterical---angry and raving when Fitzhugh hadn't sent any messages, and had done nothing about finding her a home as he had promised.

I would visit her mother every so often so she would know that she had a friend if she needed one. Right before she died, I walked up to their place and found Máire gone. Her mother told me she decided to leave and tend the sheep out in the valley. She was upset because she took the baby with her.

But I think it was more than that. Máire had been a good child, though occasionally a little rambunctious and always outspoken. Yet, she was considerate and always acted responsibly. For a long time, we thought she decided to marry the Capt. because she just wanted to get away from her parents. That's when I first asked Caroline to visit. I thought we could ask her to intervene. She thought we were asking her to spy on Máire. I think now she realizes it was for her safety.

Caroline assured us that Máire had been completely enamored by her husband before they were married. You couldn't ask her a single question about his reputation, his unknown family, his long absences . . ."

"She made excuses for him," Caroline suddenly spoke up. "He had told her she was beautiful and that he wanted to have a large house and even bigger family to come home to . . . that is if she would have lots of children. She didn't seem to mind the fact that he would be gone out to sea as long as she had a home and a family. He was so excited she said that his greatest goal was to bear a set of twins---that he wouldn't die until he conceived such progenies. He even had names for them---Jack and Jake."

"He probably was bearing children all across the island, hoping that one of his offspring might be a set of twins," said Robert.

Caroline blushed at this wondering if such a thing could be true. "And she thought he was the most handsome man she had ever seen. She was truly in love. But something happened when he came home that first time. That part I don't know."

Everyone looked at Caroline.

"I can tell you she was disappointed with". . . she paused not sure how to go on . . . "with his lack of gentleness. That much I'd be glad to tell you," she said.

"What do you mean exactly?" asked her father.

"I mean that he was very cruel to her . . . especially . . ."

She stopped and blushed again.

"You mean he liked to beat her?" asked Robert loudly. "Just say it girl. We are all adults here. What we are discussing here is serious. If you want to save her life and remove her from his control you must speak up."

"He was very cruel to her. She said he was always angry yelling and screaming and would hit her with whatever he could grab. She said he even strangled her and once he tied her up when . . ."

"OK. That's enough. We get the picture. I would suspect she was disappointed by more than not having a home---unless the whole marriage was one big deception, and she figured it out," said Jeanne. "Now I think it was," she added. "He was gone to sea for nine months and when he returned here, Máire had a child. He swore she must have had sex with someone else. He was furious and left her parent's home for the east even though he wasn't schedule to set sail for three months. She just didn't understand since he always said he wanted children."

"Then he is a deserter and a liar. That's enough to dissolve the marriage," said the Umhal Oíde.

"Desertion and failure to provide a safe home is grounds for a permanent dissolution," he added making sure the witnesses understood his oral guidance.

"He obviously wanted to have sex with her and couldn't care less about the vows. She was the one who insisted on marriage or nothing, and I'm sure the ceremony meant nothing to him," said Jeanne.

"Máire's parents were totally exasperated," said Caroline. "Once they saw her bruises, her mother cried and cried."

"He had said he was from the northwest," said Jeanne. "I only had a few words with him, but they are ones I wouldn't forget because a few seconds later I overheard him say his ship was waiting for him down in Killorglin."

"Two hours later he told me his crew was waiting for him over on the east coast," said Robert. "During the ceremony, I was speaking with a neighbor who told me the man said he was on his way to Waterford but going up north first. I was about to challenge him before the two of them left for their cottage. Then I decided against it hoping that I was just over-reacting to information that may not have been my business."

"I last spoke with her mother a month before she became ill," said Jeanne. "We discussed all his stories, and were completely confused. We couldn't figure out what the truth was, nor what happened to him---why he was angry---especially then. It was a mystery. All we know is that he didn't return. When the baby was born, Máire seemed content to care for it. Her mother said she loved the child as well as any mother could.

Then, during the epidemic that spread around during the year of the snows, Máire's parents became deathly ill and died. It was a good thing Máire was out in the valley with the sheep or she too would have surely died. We've never seen her or the baby since."

"When was the last time you saw her?"

"I walked up that way about a year ago. I checked again just a few months after her parents died, but she was not in the cottage. It was completely deserted.

"She left," said Caroline. "After her parents died, she had no way to support herself or the child, and the landowner evicted her."

"Why didn't you tell me?" asked Robert.

"She didn't want me to tell anyone. She said she was going to walk up to the bay and see if she could find his parents. She was sure they would take her in. I think she was lying so I wouldn't worry. I never saw her after that."

"How did she look?" asked Robert.

"She was very sickly looking, but I think it was because she was hungry. And I didn't see the baby."

"Didn't you ask her?"

"She said she was keeping the baby with the herd. She had one goat that would provide some milk for the baby. I think she lived on wild berries and rabbit meat and that was it," said Caroline.

"Why wouldn't she come here? Didn't you ask her why?" asked Robert.

"I did and she wouldn't answer. She had changed. It was as if she didn't trust me. She thought we might steal the baby. You couldn't suggest that the baby might need protection or a better home. She was sure any offer of help was a plot to secure the child."

"It's very strange," said Jeanne. "Máire's mother bragged about how kind she was with everyone she ever met. She liked being out and about, meeting friends and learning new things. She would always report this or that new way to cook a stew or sew a sleeve. She was happy working outside especially with the clay. Her father had even built her a kiln. We had a hard time dragging her away from her work.

Then she'd go off with the sheep for months at a time, just sleeping out in the valley. I'm very sorry. I think it was partly my fault we should have visited more often and made sure she understood that she was welcomed here and had nothing to fear," said Jeanne. "Now I believe her traumas have been great and her gay spirit is gone forever."

Chapter Seven

Revenge Burns Inside

"What about Fitzhugh?" asked Devin who had not said a word during the entire conversation.

"We know nothing more about him."

"Then we need to track him down and find out what part he has played in this."

"No need. He must find his bad luck elsewhere. According to our laws, if he has caused her physical harm or neglected her in a way that might cause her or the child's death, then the marriage is hereby dissolved in front of these witnesses."

That may have been satisfactory for those sitting around this table, thought Devin to himself. But I will have my comeuppance.

"I wish I could have told her that. I didn't know, and she never heard of such a thing. She believed she could never get away from him," said Caroline.

"None of it's her fault mind you," said Umhal Oíde. "The man couldn't be trusted from the very beginning. We cannot hold people accountable when they have been lied to---it's a solemn law of our people. I knew there was a serious problem when neither his friends nor family came to his ceremony. I'm sorry to think this, but I wouldn't doubt that the man already had a spouse and that is why he set out for the east to Baile Átha Cliath. He was married with children."

"What a despicable thing," said Devin without thinking. "Ruining a young woman when he had all he needed. And still, he could not resist deceiving and seducing our Máire. But why do you think so?" Devin asked his teacher.

"Because of his attitude during the ceremony. He acted as if he was being inconvenienced and kept trying to rush me. He almost swore when I began our prayers for a successful union. And, I saw the look of hunger in his eyes. I noticed his strange way of breathing . . . it is the way of some when their desire is heightened. It was a look of impatience . . . like a wolf that couldn't wait to attack its prey. I was sure he would have seduced her without a ceremony if she hadn't been strong enough to fight him off. He was a sly one."

"Her sadness may have reached a pinnacle when she realized that all he wanted was to use her for his own pleasure and otherwise he didn't care. Worse, she may have been devastated when he learned she was having a child he didn't want nor would take care of. Everything he said to her was a lie. When a human being is confronted with that much deception, it's a very traumatic thing for them to overcome," said Jeanne. "Even then my intuition was telling me he had a wife elsewhere."

"Do you think he came from the northern coast?" asked Robert.

"No, but do you?"

"No. I had never heard an accent like his from any of the people who came from the North Bay. I think he was from Baile Átha Cliath. I think he had traveled with the Gaels or may have originally come from across the sea."

"I suspected the same thing," said the Umhal Oíde. "I have heard his accent before from the people who live on the south eastern side of our island. Many there have come from the countries on the continent."

"We should have sent for you a long time ago so you could have interrogated him. The fact that the lass was somewhat obstinate . . ."

"Yes," said the Umhal Oíde. "It seems that under certain circumstances, we feel unsure of our path. But we should have forced some guardianship on her. She's always been a strong willed girl."

"She may have felt she had no choice," said Devin. "Only a few hundred years ago were we instructed thoroughly on the adverse effects of insecurity. Certainly a young girl of sixteen would have been hungry for companionship, and completely enamored with male flattery. She wouldn't have heard them as warning signs."

Everyone looked at Devin with raised eyebrows.

"No sense in beating around the bush," he added.

"You are so right. It's in most people's nature to think the best of someone even when they know better," said Jeanne.

"I still feel like I failed her. I was afraid to warn her because I didn't want to look like I was jealous. Sometimes I think I was a tiny bit. But then once in a while I saw a curl to his lip and sly look and when I did, I was sure I could never be seduced by a man who had the look of the devil himself," said Caroline.

"I think I can give you the most unbiased account of the facts," said Robert.

"Máire returned to her parent's farm to live, and everyone knew this was to be expected since she had not been given a home. But no one knew how long he was going to be gone. On this voyage he said he had gone off to Iceland to trade for furs. He was gone for many months. Meanwhile, the epidemic spread around the west coast of our land and both of Máire's parents died. Máire had already borne a son . . . a beautiful healthy boy, but he was weak even before her parents became ill.

Everything about Máire changed. She no longer shined with joy. And she had no one to help her with the farm. Of course, she could have come here and others in the area would have gone to help her, but she turned against everyone. She kept saying it was this or that persons' fault. That if they hadn't thought bad things, she wouldn't have suffered so much bad luck."

"She believed others cast spells on her?"

"I suppose that might explain it. But I think it was more than that. She believed that despite Fitzhugh's behavior, which she believed was self-evident, that the village preferred him to her."

"They very well may have," said the Umhal Oíde. "He may have offered them remunerations in exchange for their silence. Or they may have shown him respect that was not earned out of fear. They may have blamed her for his lack of sustenance and thought it was better for her if they supported him. She may have observed many behaviors that justified her belief. We don't know for sure."

"But once again, don't you have Caroline's observations? Surely she must know more about Máire's complaints?"

"She doesn't. They are only assumptions."

"Then," said the Umhal Oíde slowly. "Are you sure she didn't get sick herself?"

"That we do not know for sure." They all looked at Caroline.

"She was still alive months after her parent's died, but she certainly was not feeling well. And she looked very bad---her face had been . . ."

"Had been what?" asked Devin in a tetchy tone.

"She had a big bruise on the side of her face. At first she said she fell into a stone in the door jam, but I didn't believe her. I had heard enough about the Capt. to know he was violent. So I just told her that I was insulted . . . that she was acting like I was too stupid to put two and two together. So then she admitted that he had hit her with a club. It not only left a big black and blue bruise, but her face changed shape as if her cheek bone had been broken. I don't know if she noticed, but later I told her she looked much better. I didn't want her thinking about it."

"When was the last time you saw her?"

"Well over a year ago. The landowner came and confiscated the sheep and moved them up north. After that she disappeared and we never saw her again," said Caroline.

"We'll leave in the morning and go to her parent's house first. From there we can try to find her. How long will it take to ride there from here?"

"Not long. If you leave in the morning, you should be there before the sun warms the air."

Chapter Eight

Unusual Domiciles

Devin and the Umhal Oíde rode the short distance to the crumbling house. When they entered, they were both surprised at how barren the rooms were.

"We won't have much luck with what's left here," said the Druid.

"You're right. Sadly, there is nothing left."

They walked out around to the side of the house where the kiln still sat. Devin didn't see much, but when he walked around to the side of the oven, he saw an opening and put his hand deep inside. He pulled out a rag made from sheep's hide. He smelled it.

"Here. I believe she used this to wipe her hands. The dog will know."

The white hound named  Cráigh came to Devin immediately and sniffed the thick rag. He ran around the kiln for several minutes picking up the scent. When he was ready he moved off to the south and waited for his masters to follow. The Druid and his student started out after the dog and once they had picked up their pace, the dog was anxious to find the scent. He kept them moving quickly until they came to an open range with some lovely trees, a large lake off to the east, and a wall of forest and caves. The dog started barking.

"Sit Cráigh," said Devin. "We don't want to frighten the lady. She may be hiding in one of the caves."

"I suspect that one where the smoke is seeping through the surface and the stones are stacked well around the entrance providing shade and safety," said his teacher with a twinkle in his eyes.

When they walked up to the entrance Cráigh started whining. "Hush," Devin commanded, but the dog continued to whimper.

"Hóigh," called Umhal Oíde. "We've brought you provisions."

Máire had been watching them through her peep hole as soon as her own dog had started whimpering. She decided to go to the entrance and speak with them. She knew them immediately and that they were harmless. The two would be hard to forget . . . the Druid, the kind man who had provided her son with a legitimate father and the man who stared at her during the Maypole celebrations. Both had moved her heart and she had dreamt about them recently, so was expecting company.

"Ah. There you are Máire. We have been searching for you. We came to ask you about your husband."

"I've not seen him for years."

"Do you want your marriage dissolved?"

At that exact moment, a young boy of about two came around through the entrance of the cave running to grab on to his mother's leg.

"This is my son. His name is Colin. He will be three when the oak leaves dry and scatter."

"We didn't know if your child had survived the epidemic, but we are glad he did. How have you been surviving?"

"I walked towards the northeast for three days until I found some clay I could use. I filled my cart with several bags and came back here to avoid my husband. I make pipes and trade them with foreigners. I have a perfect place inside this cave. Someone must have used a kiln here many years ago. I found it when I was herding the sheep."

"We had heard that you may have tried to find Fitzhugh's family."

"He had no family in the north. I had heard the lies he told my parents, and I should have told them, but wanted to marry."

"And you walked all the way back here carrying that big cart?"

"It was not that difficult when I heard I would be traveling in a direction that Capt. Fitzhugh would not go."

"Did he learn he had a son?"

"He knew I had a child. He didn't ask if it was a son or daughter."

"Did he leave you any means of support?"

"No."

She let go of the leash on the dog and the collie took off chasing the hound. They ran out to the pasture to her son's delight and he ran after them yelling to the top of his lungs.

"Come. I will show you."

She went for her tray and brought it to the light.

"These are my pipes. I walk over to the coast with my son and trade with the seaman. They bring a good price. I can buy some provisions there, but I have most of what I need right here. I have been doing very well."

Both the Druid and Devin looked at the woman with a thin frame and tattered clothes and knew that she had thought herself well off now compared to her near starvation. They examined the craftsmanship of the lovely pipes and were impressed.

"They are the perfect size and very unusual, but aren't you afraid to run into your husband on the coast?"

"No. It was an accident that he had stopped on this side of the island before. He is from the east and I'm sure he doesn't want to find me or his child. Still I am glad to be away from him. You said my marriage can be dissolved. Is that true?"

"Yes. We are the leaders for this side of the island. I will send out an official communication across the island to all our bands. As long as you choose to live here or within one of our clans, you will be safe."

Máire smiled finally and that is when Devin noticed the strange shape of her right cheek. The only time that he had seen such a thing before was on an old person who had had a stroke. Now he could see that her bone had been broken. He could see it beneath the skin. She immediately put her hand up to cover it.

"Are you in pain?" asked Devin.

"It is just a little uncomfortable when I smile. Otherwise I do not feel it."

"Would you come back to live with us?"

"Live with both of you?" she asked looking mortified.

"Of course not," said Devin immediately blushing.

"If we wait for Devin to put his feelings into words, I'm afraid we will be standing here for far too long. So I'll say it for him. He's been longing for you for years and wants to marry you . . . if you'll have him. He told me he hadn't made an impression on you when you first met. If you do not want to marry him you do not have to, and you can still come live in our band and I'll see you have a home with one of our widows. If you don't want to live with us in our community, I will send someone here to help you with your work and your son, and the band will help with your provisions."

This was all too much for Máire to take in all of a sudden.

"I will return with you if I can take my clay, and if I can decide about another marriage later."

"That would be fine," said Devin. "I will take the cart. You and Colin can ride my mare. You just tell me what needs to be packed."

"Everything," she said obstinately.

He looked at her with astonishment. The cave was filled with tools, bags of clay, a stack of hides, utensils, and of course, her treasure, the pipes she had carved in a traditional plain hobbit curve, some with little flowers tattooed around the bowl, and others so intricate they looked like little old men. Máire wrapped each one in a soft hide and placed them in a bundle she put in a sling. She insisted on carrying it on her shoulder and in front of her so her son could ride behind her.

The Druid waited until Devin organized the cart which was almost spilling over. Then he took off several of the heavy bundles and placed them on his horse and gave the lead to Máire. He grabbed the other handle of the cart, gave Devin the stare he knew as enough said, and they both moved along at a normal pace back to the forest.

Chapter Nine

Love Never Blooms

Devin and Máire eventually married. But it wasn't an instantaneous decision on her part. She was very jumpy about the whole thing until a year passed. It was upsetting to Devin, because he could see that she liked him, and yet, he knew that she didn't desire him. He thought that it might have something to do with her experiences with Fitzhugh. Or that she truly was repulsed by him for some reason. He thought it was possible, but so many other equally charming girls had chased after him and he found it peculiar---especially since he had matured and was now considered very handsome by so many. He was ready to settle on another if she didn't come around. Finally, Devin asked her what she feared---afraid himself that her physical repulsion had continued even after she had agreed to move into his home with him. One evening he put his foot down demanding an explanation.

"I think you are too holy for me," she said.

"I'm not holy at all," he said.

"But you will be the next Druid . . . you will be the head of the entire land. How can I marry such a man?"

"The same way you would marry any other man," he said with a bit of annoyance. "I'm not holy. I'm just like you and everyone else."

"But you pray all the time. You know many secrets and magic tricks. It frightens me."

"For heaven's sake. Whatever has frightened you?"

"Nothing. But we're not married. I'm afraid you would know what a horrible person I am---and now I am so ugly," she said as her hand went up to hide her right cheek.

"That is so ridiculous. Whatever gave you all these notions?"

"Caroline did when she talked about you. She said marrying you would be like marrying the king and I would have to be responsible for the lives of the people just like you are. And that I could have no secrets or best friends. I think I would feel like a slave. I don't like taking care of others. I'm content with my clay. And I'm very chatty---or at least I was. I'm afraid that I would gossip and cause you harm. I truly feel unequal to you or the challenge of being a wife again."

"None of that is so, Máire. You are like everyone else. Everyone in our band is equally responsible for the lives of everyone else. That is the agreement we have with each other. People are free to do as they please and live as they wish . . . with or without prayer, with or without ambition, or knowledge. They can choose as they wish except for our two laws. The first is to keep our clan knowledge secret and the second is to protect all if we are attacked. These two laws are absolute. Even Druids have no commanding power. Their main role is to memorize our history and teach each other when necessary. The bands safety is dependent on being prepared with proper equipment and weapons. Then we all must defend our entire clan. That is our agreement. All the forest people live under the same rules. They are no other rules to follow or things to fear. I am just like everyone else, but have been chosen to take our Umhal Oíde's place when he dies. The Umhal Oíde was my mother's second husband, so I am not his son. My mother was the last true Druid, but she died young and asked her husband to teach me and he has done so."

"But what about the stories I have heard?"

"Such as?"

"I have heard that the Druids perform sacrifices to your God---that you use people---even children?"

"Such nonsense. When have you ever seen such behavior? When people have fears, they exaggerate and make up stories."

"How would such a story be told if there wasn't some truth?"

"They may have seen us burn a corpse. Most people still bury their dead under the stones. We have no space and have more experience with diseases corpses can spread. Or someone may have seen us singe a wound. Sometimes that is not pleasant, but when there is a potential for infection, a wound can cause death. They must be seared. It is painful, but recently we have developed some potions that can lessen the pain. You can imagine us burning the flesh on a wound and an observer may have thought we were killing someone."

"What about all the wizardry. I'm afraid of magic and tricks. I think they are evil."

"There are many ignorant people who do not understand how to learn and take advantage of the abundance around them. Here let me show you."

He gathered up a bucket and filled it with coals and twigs from their fire and put a lid on it. Then he handed a small pot with a wooden handle and scoop to Máire. He took two pieces of netting from his trunk. He went into the woods and she followed. He came to a large honeybee hive and said, "Now I will let out the smoke. I will make all the bees fly out of their nest, but they will be calm and not sting you. Then you will take the scoop and gather the honey. The bees will thank you and return to their hive."

Máire was petrified. She had been stung before and was not happy about the prospect, so she backed off shaking her head.

"OK. Just watch me and tell me if this is magic or just plain knowledge to you."

So Devin lifted the lid and let the mass of smoke out next to the hive. The bees disbursed, and just as he had predicted, none tried to sting him, and very few even landed on the netting. He took the little pail from Máire, and scooped out the honey and stepped away. And just as he said, when he was finished, the bees slowly returned to their hive when he put the lid back on the bucket of smoke.

"Now if I were the wizardly type, I would have made a big to do about the process and scare a bunch of innocent people. But what would be the point? Someday, one of our own will gather the honey for the entire clan. They will know it's safe. Only those outside our bands in the forest will wonder how we were able to gather so much honey to trade and think we have some kind of magical power."

"How did you learn such a thing?"

"I don't know when it was first learned. It was handed down to me and I experiment as I do with much of nature to make sure I understand what is true and what is not. That is hardly a holy process. It's just normal to me. I can show you many similar things, but they are not tricks."

"Show me something else."

"Like what?"

"Like how you can catch so many fish when you go to the stream? My father could only catch one or two for supper after hours of fishing."

"Sure. Come with me." They walked to the stream. "You see this pot is filled with dirt and happy earthworms. Now hidden under those bushes is a wicker box. I take the worms and attach them to all these strings hanging from the lid. You can help me."

Marie wasn't particularly fond of worms, but didn't mind the task. It took a while until they had about forty strings of worms hanging from the top of the box. Now we go to this place in the stream this is very deep and lots of fish hang out there because it is dark and quiet.

She watched him pick up the big wicker box and put it in the stream until it was completely covered with water. Then he pulled up two doors on each side of the box.

"Now all the fish will see the squiggling worms and swim into the box for dinner fighting to get as many worms as possible. I know exactly how long it will take to capture a nice batch and then shut the doors. So they sat by the shore and then Devin got up and let down the sides. He picked up the wicker box and opened the lid. All the water seeped out immediately A few worms were still hanging from the lid so he put them back into the clay pot and dumped the fish into his cloak. Máire counted more than ten and stopped trying to sort out the squiggly bunch.

"Enough for several families," he smiled. "I have caught the fish and the honey for dinner today. Others will bring berries and meat. We have flour and spices from the men traveling here from the east. Some of our people will make scones. We will have a nice feast tonight."

"And no tricks."

"At least no magic tricks," smiled Devin.

That night at dinner everyone commented on the honey and the fish and others had prepared fowl and baked apples. It was a wonderful dinner and Máire was very proud. Out of nowhere she said, "Devin and I have decided to be married." And that was it. After six long years, he had finally captured his bride. But had he?

Chapter Ten

Almost Compatible

Devin was surprised, but not disappointed with Máire's sudden change of heart. Máire was the woman he had admired from a distance and he assumed she would be the best partner for him in his work. She had proved to be very compatible in this respect already. But still something was wrong. When they were working she would touch him and he could touch her without any sense of fear or rejection. But in the evenings it was different. She was always six paces ahead or behind him and did not want to sleep in his bed. He was confounded and had never heard of anything like it before. He had asked her why she didn't like him and she was surprised, insulting him for saying such a thing. So he didn't press her.

He found that just asking caused him a great deal of anxiety that he had no time for the continuing frustration. He had to stay focused and handle the challenges of each day as problems were brought to him.

Devin wanted a son of his own. This was a real dilemma because if he mentioned it he was sure it would hurt Máire's feelings. After all, no son of his own could be better than Colin. Still the urge to have a son of his own was overwhelming and he couldn't stop the thought from rattling through his head at night as Máire went off to her private space in the evening.

He was determined to find out why. So finally he went to his tutor with his private problem and explained---with some degree of embarrassment.

The Umhal Oíde went to his stones and pulled out a mnemonic that had been indexed under the heading of sex and the history of belief systems.

"We know she experienced sex with a monster. She may not have recovered from the trauma. But we have to understand why she married the man in the first place.

One of two things happened. First she could have believed that sex after marriage was blessed and that it would never be egregious. The experience may have completely shocked her. We don't know what happened, and I wouldn't recommend trying to find out. It's obviously something she wants to forget or she would have broached the topic before this. I can tell you one thing for sure---that whatever happened has made her very protective. She is very nervous.

The second thing that could have happened was that she didn't expect to have sex at all. Of course, she had to be aware of what happens to females. She did raise sheep. But she was friends with the priestess from a northern clan that came to our part of the island during the spring festivals. She was at the festival when you first saw Máire at the Maypole. She and her friends had met with this woman for years discussing her beliefs and prophesies.

"What did she preach?"

"She taught everything you do . . . but she also spoke of visions for women. One of her stories prophesized a bridegroom to come for the peace of all women. She may believe this and have made some kind of vow after dealing with Fitzhugh. If she did, she will never tell you."

So Devin made a decision. He had to go to the one person who might help him clarify the truth about Máire's feelings---Maura Kea who had led the women priests. So one day he announced that he had to go on a trip across the island and wouldn't return for several weeks.

Máire wanted to know where he was going and he refused to say---and somewhat honestly because he really didn't know. In fact, his only hope to find her was to travel along hoping someone had seen or heard of her whereabouts recently. What was amazing to Devin was that Máire actually seemed relieved that he was leaving. She must not feel any bond with me whatsoever, he thought.

He decided to travel northwest first and then possibly zigzag across the center of the island. He was lucky as he started out, he came across a small family who was moving from the north to a more temperate southwest climate and they had heard of the woman and her companions.

"We heard of her just three days ago. She was working in a village straight north. Many people had become sick from some kind of disease and she and her companions were helping them. They say she worked several miracles. They said she even saved a baby's life . . . a baby everyone said had already died.

That plague infected the earth more than four years ago, he thought.

Devin took off for the north and within three days he came across a large area of land that had been scorched and was just recovering ground cover. He followed the abandoned campsites for another hour and then decided to rest and restart in the morning. He looked around to find a comfortable place to sleep and noticed that he was standing exactly where he had been standing once before during the Maypole ceremony. He looked over to the large stone with a hollow. He saw a white mist and was about to walk towards it. He was reaching out but couldn't move. "I will be coming to you soon," the voice said.

As he was riding home, he came across a woman with a grown child and both were near death. They were just sitting on the edge of the path hoping someone would pass by and throw them some food. As they reached out, his heart broke. He could see that they were victims, discarded by the rest of humanity. He picked them both up and put them on his horse and walked towards one of the large lakes in the west. There he found an abandoned stone home and put the woman and the child in the house with some food. Even then he realized that if he left immediately, neither would have the strength to carry on without him. So he tidied up the little hovel and made a bed of soft clean hay for her and the child. He built a fire with plenty of fuel stacked right outside the door. He went fishing the next day and started preparing food that he thought might last them for a while.

Devin stayed on for a week at first, intending only to make sure they would stay alive, and then noticed that the woman was regaining some strength and was washing herself and the child down in the lake. He hid behind a large oak and watch for a while. He saw how she laughed and played with the young girl---both lovely with curly blond hair glistening in the sun. He felt exactly the same as he did when he first saw Máire. He knew it was because of the woman's regained gaiety---that was what he had found so compelling.

He began to rethink his circumstances. He did not want to return to his responsibilities and a cold wife. He went back to the shack and worked on it some more until the lady returned. When she did, he left quickly for a hunting excursion and when he returned he had a full bag of provisions that would have lasted for a week. He had experienced a sudden wave of guilt this time, but was not moved by it. He thought it might pass. There was no reason to make an instantaneous decision and no need to rush back to the band. His wife had no desire to have him close. So he delayed again and again, becoming friends with the two young women. He was happy and carefree with them and looked forward to each day. He was finding something new to be taught and endless projects. First he built a large fence in a nice grassy meadow for his horse. Then he went off hunting for a wild goat and when he had capture two, he brought them back to the large field he had enclosed. They would provide plenty of daily milk and were both young enough to reproduce.

When he was finished, he could see that she was assuming that he planned to stay. He desired the blond lady and she him, and had made her willingness to abide him very obvious. A chill passed through his body as if he was guilty of a crime and then he decided he must leave before he fell in love. Determined to leave the next morning he dreamt of packing his belongings. Instead, when he woke to a beautiful day, he went fishing and brought back a nice catch. He showed them how he had built a trap and gave it to them so she and the young girl, who he now believed was her sister, would be able to eat every day. He built a trap for rabbits and took them to the berry patch so they would know how to find it on their own. He built a small hand loom and shredded some otter skins so she could learn how to weave. He explained how sheep's wool could be spun into yarn, thinking that though they had none at the time, he would have a pair of the animals sent to her. The older woman stopped him in the middle of his lecture and showed him her fingers. He could see that they had been calloused clear to the bone. She must have worked for a very cruel owner.

He could see the pain in her eyes, and then realized they would not be able to protect themselves from thieves. So he stayed once again, showing both of them how to use his bows and arrows and how to poison stew. He left a vial of poison in their home explaining how deadly it would be.

He showed the girls where some wild plums were growing and finally, how to plant some vegetable seeds that he always carried with him and explained how to harvest the new seeds when they were ripe---the most important, oats for bread and for the horse. Everything he did was copied exactly and with a great deal of joy. He would hardly finish a lesson before one or the other would finish it for him.

Mentally, he was making a list of all their food sources and was sure they were in a position to survive. They looked healthy and strong. The next morning he would give the women his horse, his beautiful bedding, his pouches of seeds, bow and arrows, and leave. He had never been happier in his whole life. As he turned to wave goodbye to the formerly happy ladies, he saw them crying. He had to turn away to hide his own tears that streamed for several days as he walked back to his home and duties. He was almost twenty-three and still had not lost his virginity.

Chapter Eleven

Was It Jealousy?

When Devin returned to the band, he had been gone almost six months. Máire hadn't missed him initially, but as the weeks wore on, she became worried. Then when he finally did return, he had nothing to say to her and went to his own space in his room without acknowledging her or Colin. He grieved his loss and was tempted to leave again. The image of his first encounter with the females, how they were nothing but skin and bones when he found them starving on the road, and how they recovered to such gaiety consumed him. How they trusted him, though they had endured every human kind of degradation and meanness by all they came in contact with, and how they had endured with so much hope that they reached out their arms to him and cried when he was about to pass them. No matter what their experiences, they did not turn sour and glum, and when properly nourished and finally safe, they were filled with love and delight. The experience affected his sense of self-esteem almost immediately. He was worthy of Máire's love and if she could not see it, then he would no longer pursue her. He no longer blamed Fitzhugh for her cold rejections and did not feel the need to seek revenge.

Máire could see that he had changed. She was worried that she had lost him---and she had, for he would never feel the sense of desire he did that day at the Maypole when he was seventeen. After two weeks of being ignored she realized that Devin was dreaming of another. She snuck a mild sedative into his evening beer and that night, she laid next to him, and when he was barely conscious, made love to him.

The next morning, Devin wasn't sure what had happened but decided not to press the issue. He spoke to his teacher asking him if such a trick had been possible.

"She is a sharp one with the herbs and alchemies. Watch to see if she is with child, and then you will know that she tricked you."

"But why?"

"It would be impossible for me to know, but I suspect she did not want you to remember all that happened."

"She is such a mystery."

"She is, and I would not expect you to waste too much time figuring her out. I believe it could cause you a lot of heartache. You will be the next Umhal Oíde very shortly and can choose as many wives as you like, and you are free to visit and sleep with any widow who wants you---but it is your responsibility to remain with the bands at all times. Appease yourself as you like and concentrate on the safety of your people and the forests. If Máire has a child, care for it as I cared for you."

Devin knew exactly what that meant. The Umhal Oíde passed away shortly thereafter. And he was right. Máire gave birth to a chubby little girl with bright curly red hair exactly nine months later. They named her Rosemáire. Devin was happy to have a child, but did not imagine that he would have a daughter and when it came to caring for her was completely lost. As it turned out, he had no choice but to take over the daily duties as Máire became less and less interested in the child after each feeding. Over time, Devin became more and more enamored with the little cherub with big blue eyes that followed his every move and they were rarely found apart.

By the time she was two, she would follow him in the garden and correctly plant a little seed in a small mound of earth cupping her hands around the soft dirt as he showed her. By the time the first plants harvested, the young child was addicted to the garden, caring for each plant, and keeping the beds weed free. She chatted with Devin or by herself with the plants all day long. Devin thought that teaching such a youngster with so much interest was one of the most unusual experiences he had ever had. He was delighted and looked forward to each day without ever feeling depressed or annoyed. As she shot up, and her language developed, Devin realized what his teacher had envisioned. This extraordinary child was exactly like him---she had his temperament and interest in all things living. She would be the next Umhal Oíde. When the thought crossed his mind, Devin was initially very frightened. He wondered how he might protect her and went through a period of unusual overprotectiveness.

When he realized he was causing her to be frightened, he thought of his tutor and how he had allowed him every risk, and decided he was not using his head. He retreated to his temple and studied his texts.

Rosemáire followed him into the temple as usual and would find a place on the ground to play with stones and bugs. One day she sat next to him as he recited his most common daily prayer. She put her small hand on his knee, strumming her fingers around as in a beat, and looked out into space as he always did when he prayed.

"I like the first two lines the best," she said. "In the original sense of divine, Handed down from our Mother," she repeated. His heart instantly broke. Even the child felt abandoned and neglected and prayed to another mother. He would have to see that she felt nourished by a woman. Meanwhile, he was convinced she was ready to learn the practices of a Druid. He was once again comfortable with his daughter's fate and left the rest to faith.

The next couple of years were filled with anxiety. There were many quarrels over pigs and vegetable gardens that he took personally and thought he was going to go crazy with the daily irritations. But always, he was especially frightened of war and thought himself a coward.

Máire knew this and made every effort to do what she could to enhance his confidence. She may not have been the best romantic partner he dreamed of, but she was otherwise, perfect for him---and she knew it. So when he finally was seduced by one of the young widows who had been left without a child, he found himself finally satisfied with his life, and Máire made no objections. In this instance, she saw the woman as needy---not competition, and ignored it.

Máire had taken care of herself and had already learned a great deal about various natural defenses. With his help, she learned even more about the many secrets hidden in nature. She was especially interested in Devin's most important discovery---the one that could plant the toxin of Natterjack skin in the dirt so the plants would absorb the poison as they grew. They would not be as deadly as the poison itself but when put in a stew would kill most animals within a few hours.

Máire had lived in fear on her own for several years, and after being raped many times and beaten to within an inch of her life, she had learned to fight off marauders. She had used another poison in a stew once before when thieves had come to steal her sheep. But she had poured it directly into the stew. She was surprised that the intense metallic bitterness wasn't obvious. The poison was very deadly and killed all of them. She suffered no real sense of guilt over their deaths---except that they had to die during the act of stealing. For this reason, she felt bad for the men. She didn't know why.

She had built a fire close to the herd and left the stew out in a kettle under a flame, assuming the thieves would steal it. Then she hid in a cave behind a rock that was on a hill behind the campfire. There she sat and watched as the men laughed and finished off the food. She watched them herd her sheep away in the early morning and take off across the grassland until they were mere dots on the horizon---until the dots didn't move. Then she took her dog and went after her sheep. She found the greedy men lying in the grass. Three had already died. The other two were vomiting and begging for mercy. She did not pay attention to their moans. She and her faithful dog merely rounded up the sheep and walked them back to the owner's land. Unfortunately, it was not long after that when the owner showed up and had the sheep removed to his estate. She had hid one in her kiln---a pregnant female so she would have something to help her survive. She did not feel badly about her crime. She had been herding them for several seasons and the owner refused to pay her for helping him leaving her and her child's survival at risk. It was then that Máire changed permanently and turned into a cold-blooded killer.

Máire believed that Devin knew a lot about survival and helping his people, but knew nothing of treachery or true evil---not like she had witnessed. She would have to be the one to save him and his people from the onslaught when the invaders came. She saw this duty as natural and that God had seen fit to have her help her extraordinary husband. So each time he showed her an experiment, she thought of how she might use it against an enemy.

Their lives went on peaceably until Devin turned twenty-eight and finally he would have to face his fears. As news of an invasion spread throughout the forest, Máire planned her strategy to fend off the killers, and then tried to convince Devin to allow her to use her scheme. When the clan gathered to strategize, she was the first to speak.

"These plant leaves and vegetables are poisonous," she said. "I have taken the poison of the Natterjacks and diluted it with the water I used to feed the plants. There was no physical difference observed on the plants. But we have tested the plant in many stews and as I increased the ratio of poison, the degree of sickness similarly increased," she explained to the band leaders.

Máire did not confess that Devin was the one who had tasted the stews she had made until they reached a point of illness that caused vomiting for a day. Then they doubled the potion just in case it still wasn't strong enough.

"We need to sneak the plants into their pots of stew. The poison will disable most of the warriors. It may even kill a few. Hopefully, when they are weakened they might decide to return to their homeland," said Máire.

The leader from the eastern edge of their lands spoke.

"We will take all the poisonous plants and packed them on a cart along with some other food and leave it for them to steal."

"Máire insists that she knows how to tempt the enemy to use these vegetables in their stews," Devin said.

They mapped out the location of the enemy and the distance they traveled each day.

"We need to be prepared when they round the corner in front of the Meord's band."

"First, we need to move the eastern edge of our people deeper into the forest. The trees are thin there and may tempt the invaders to move off the road to inspect the forest."

"Or they may send a few soldiers in but we have archers in the tree tops to handle them," said the leader from the area. "Once they realize their men are not coming out of the woods, they'll stop sending them in. The road is nice and smooth for a good while and they will stay on it," said Meord.

"Once they round the bend, they will be at the border of my band. There is a sudden drop---not huge, but a slope of about three feet. We will throw silt on it which will create an illusion of flat ground. According to our scouts they have brought the fireball catapult. We must be ready with a troop of our best archers at the top in the road right behind the trees at that spot. We can only hope there is rain and the road is slippery . . . too slick to control the weight of that huge machine. But we must make sure our arrows upset the burning oils and set the entire contraption on fire as soon as possible."

"How many warriors are there this time?"

"A full day of walking from the length of the coast to our first band."

"Then there are several thousand men," said Devin. "I would estimate that they will be getting to the curve in the road at our point of attack by the sixth sunset from today."

"We can only hope they arrive in late afternoon when they are tired and the sun is against them, and in our favor," said one of the leaders.

"Then Máire must be prepared before they arrive. We must lay traps deep in the woods. Máire will make a pot of stew on the side of the road. They will walk towards the aroma until they see her camp.

Máire and her companions will leave several carts of her tainted plants in the cart next to the stew. She will also add a couple of dozen hens, and lamb shanks wrapped in cloth and hang them on the side of the carts---the piece de resistance. Each will be filled with poison as well---this time straight doses into slits she had made with a thin knife.

The first pot will be harmless. The smell of the stew should be picked up about a quarter of a mile off and the first marchers would eat a great meal without any side effects. The stew will be gone as soon as it is seen. Then, hopefully, the men who steal it will take the rest of the haul to their commissaries for their evening meals. Hopefully, our people will have enough time to move back into the woods far enough away when the invaders approach. We are hoping that when they abandon all their carts, they will not bother to chase after them. We do know that once they tasted the stew they will use the plants, pork, and potatoes that evening and the poison should make a dent in their strength soon enough after that."

The bands of the secretive Hibernians were extremely busy for the next few days, sending out scouts, moving traps in the woods, counting bodies, and sneaking along the entourage with clothes they picked off from a few of the dead along the way.

When Máire and her little troop set up their trap, she was truly petrified. This was the first time she had ever seen thousands of large wooly looking men crossing their beautiful land with only one intention---to kill, maim, and steal what they could until their appetite for war was satisfied and they had collected enough extra people, especially women and children, to take home as slaves. By the time they had made it to the curve in the road, it was obvious that many pairs of eyes in the forests were watching them---many of them part of an elaborate hoax.

From their vantage point, the forest people could see that the coastal villages were devastated and homes were set on fire for miles. The fires had spread across the land and scorched much of the grasslands. But the leaders from the coast had chosen to live differently. When the invasions were at hand, they had asked for protection from the forest people and for many years it was given freely. But for the past several years, they had refused to comply with any of the rules of the Hibernians, and in fact, had been extremely aggressive about wanting to know the secrets and share them with foreigners---to trade them for gold and jewels. Finally, after years of trying, they could not come to an agreement, so no bargain was struck.

These invaders had had their way as soon as they landed. Their numbers and aggression had terrified the coastal villages, and they were dominated instantly. This made the foreigners feel extremely powerful and invulnerable. As the forest people observed their behavior, they put the second part of their plan into effect.

"The devastation left by these men is evidence enough that they cannot be trusted to talk," said Devin. "We must make sure we act on the offensive as soon as we have a chance. First, we must make sure there are many forest people to attack their forces from the back. They will think we are weak and will not be tempted to turn around their march to save a few stragglers. Meanwhile, we will have gained the advantage of having most of our expert archers moved into our Doric ridge. Then we will begin to hide the animals," said Devin.

All of the animal heads were saved and some were stuffed by the various bands to use as imposters. The forest people had passed down a formula for preserving them indefinitely. They would take a dead boar or rabbit after it was eaten for stew they would make a masquerade of the face and hang it on a pole. They would reshape it with mud, paint the face white and put some red around the whites of the eyes. Before an invasion they would stick the poles in the ground on the edge of the forests. When seen from a distance, they could barely be distinguished from the forest people who similarly painted their faces white and rubbed raspberry dye around their eyes that made them look very sickly and weird.

The observations didn't seem to bother the leader. It was supposed because he had his catapult to back up his troops if they were attacked. What was surprising was that he had it moved right behind him. This was different, because it was difficult to transport on an even keel, and usually left at the end of the entourage. They came up on the hill suddenly but halted and stood.

Meanwhile, Máire and her helpers walked the cart out of the forest and within moments the invaders turned to attack them and stole the food as expected. As soon as the barbarians were close, they abandoned the cart and took off for the forest. Running away sent many dozen galloping horses after them as they brandished swords and yelled fierce shouts. The enemy thrashed into the edge of the forest looking for Máire and her crew but the many archers who had hidden in the tree tops attacked swiftly wiping out more than half of them. It gave Máire and her protectors enough time to hide in some trenches that had been prepared in advance. Some of the attackers started to turn around to leave and the archers were quiet giving them the chance to save their lives. Suddenly, one of the invaders yelled a command to attack insisting they move forward. It had given the forest people just enough time to regroup and the rest of the invaders were killed from behind within seconds. Once they were all dead, Máire and her friends managed to gather up the rest of their archers and get them moved deeper into the forest.

A few spies reported that the men squabbled over the fresh food for their stews. Some stole all the meat for themselves and those died by the next morning. Half of the men from the rest of the camps became deathly ill. They didn't take off for two more days which gave the rest of the bands time to prepare.

When they had recovered enough to travel, they were not happy and started charging deep into the woods looking for the Hibernians. After searching through the eastern edges of the forest and finding nothing but their dead friends, they gave up and moved back into the procession. They advanced across the land, burning the landscape as they passed across it. The land was so scorched that it looked like molten red embers had dropped out of the sky. The forest people were now petrified. The invading armies seemed to grow instead of diminish. And losing the forest was a greater fear than losing their lives.

It was time to bring their most skilled archers to the edge of the forest and set the traps in the trees. The invaders now thought they were invincible. They wandered into the woods with less caution. This is when the forest people climbed to the tree tops and let loose a number of arrows. Each hid in clumps of many branches so they couldn't be seen in the dark. As the enemy approached on foot, many stepped into rope traps that hoisted them up into the trees where they were ensnared in wicker cages. As some of the trees caught fire, some of the invaders were burned alive.

The commander, who had suffered from the deadly stew was losing his sense of timing and even some of his usual ardor for kill. He sent his most brave cavalry towards the forest, but they were met with the most experienced archers who started cutting them down with perfectly aimed arrows. The archers were not a merciful group. They aimed for the eyes of the invaders as most wore metal helmets that covered their ears around to the side of their cheeks and down over their noses. Only their eyes and mouths were exposed and the archers found the eyes a clear target. They had prepared the size of their arrowheads to its slimmest point and they rarely missed their targets.

Chapter Twelve

There's More to War Than War

The commander was a fierce looking large man with a big scraggly beard, a patch over one eye, and a great number of black tassels hanging from his armor. He noticed that the ones who had rode into the forest were not returning and then warned the others to stay on the road behind him.

As the armies moved across the land leaving devastation and ruin, the forest people split their forces, sending those with less expertise, but still good archers to the back of the lines shooting those who had fallen behind and were easy targets.

Meanwhile, Devin made sure two soldiers were in front of his horse and two slightly behind him. From the gossip that spread through the forests, he was easily frightened himself, and as a result was brutal with his enemies.

Devin knew he would have to stop the cavalry so the archers could hit their main targets. There was only one way. He would have to be the one to take the risk. He could hear the grinding gears of the catapult and oxen as they trudged through the mud and knew how even one hurl of the flaming oils would ruin their land. He could see that they were getting ready to stabilize it and set the oils into flames. He had to save the sacred forests.

He walked out in front of the leader with his four best archers similarly flanked around him. The man on the horse laughed.

"I see the most ferocious of our enemy has emerged from hiding," the strange barbarian said as he looked at the kind looking man with long white robes, and floral vines strung around his neck.

"You are a stupid man," yelled the general. He ordered his generals to take all of them prisoner.

"Tie these men to the back of the line that holds their neighbors from the coast," he commanded with amusement. But within the same instant, even before the men on their horses had pulled their swords, the archers swiftly pulled their bows from beneath their vests and let go an attack on the guards. One arrow each went right into the small exposed spaces on the iron masks used to see, and knocked the fierce looking guards off their horses in one fell swoop. One had fallen over on his horse, and scared it, sending it galloping away to the north dragging the screaming man along.

Several men in the ranks tried to run forward and were quickly brought down with arrows faster than they could even begin their run. Devin could see the fear envelop in the leader as his guards were gone and the four archers were now all aimed at him. He suddenly realized that being covered in iron would not save him from these extraordinary marksmen.

"If you order any more killing you will not survive to see the damage that will be incurred," said Devin. "Look to the west," he ordered.

When the general looked up he saw rows of archers lined up in the Green Vales. It looked like there were a hundred wide and thousands deep. But they winded around the bend and down a hill and were only several dozen rows deep.

"Look to the forest." The general looked and saw thousands of white faces with bulging red eyes hidden behind the edge of the woods. He had no idea how many archers were in the woods, but Devin raised his arm once and a row of arrows flew across the sky and landed several feet from the marching line of the invaders---all perfectly placed. There was no doubt that the entire outside line of men could have been killed easily.

"What is your name?" asked Devin.

"Jonan," the general said.

"Then Jonan, I would suggest you turn your men around and retreat to the sea."

The general was afraid but had heard that the Druids would do anything to save their precious trees---even give up their own lives. He waved his arm commanding the men at the catapults to release their scoops of flames. But the archers once again, with magic precision shot arrows into the sides of the gears of the huge wooden machines. The machine gears jammed about halfway around and poured their grievous flames around the contraptions setting it ablaze along with anyone standing close by. The invaders were defeated.

"Not without our slaves," Jonan suddenly said.

"You do not want our people in your land," said Devin.

"Are you senseless? Look at these young healthy lads and lasses. They will be grown in a few years and be great workers. And they are all so nice looking. Especially that lass," he said as he pointed to a young woman at the head of the line with long black hair and lavender eyes.

"We have won all the battles to this point and our victory entitles us to these slaves who were captured back by the coast.

"No victory entitles you to any slaves," said Devin.

"Then I will keep these at the beginning of the line. They are my favorite. You can keep the rest."

Devin motioned to the archers to remain poised on the general. He walked to the first few people in the line. He slid his hand into the pocket of his robe and then slipped a handful of his raspberry and alkaline mixture and slid his hand across the back of the young woman at the head of the line. The general was so frightened of the archers that he kept his eye on them and missed Devin's inspection of the captives. He brought the young woman up to the general and pulled up the cloth off the back of the beautiful young woman with dark hair and large violet eyes. She shivered with embarrassment not knowing what was happening or why the Druid had rubbed something in his hand on her naked back. Devin slipped his hand under the arm of the boy she was hanging on to desperately and then put a handful of the mixture in the hand of an old man behind the first two. He had been watching keenly and trusted the great Druid, and following his example, he rubbed some of it across his knees and passed some of the mixture down the line making hand signals.

"These people don't look all that healthy to me," said Devin. "Look here."

He pulled the piece of cloth off her back and turned her to the general.

"This whole clan has been stricken with leprosy. Is that what you want? It's very contagious. Look here at this boy's arm."

Devin picked it up and said "Here. I'll bring him over to you."

"Stop," Jonan yelled in fear. He had raped the young woman the night before and was sure he was now contaminated. His eyes were nearly bulging out of his head. All his men knew what he had done and were equally terrified and many started stepping backwards away from the general and the slaves.

"Command the armies to retreat," Devin ordered. "When they are well on their way, we will release you and you may join them." Jonan didn't respond.

"Tell them," Devin ordered again hardly raising his voice.

The despicable man yelled out his commands until the men started marching back to the east. He used his own language to warn them of leprosy and after that, they marched away at an exceptionally fast pace. When they were nearly out of sight, the archers mounted the horses of the four dead soldiers and slowly escorted the general back towards the sea. As they marched, several thousand people painted in blue, emerged from the forest and joined the march. Each had used the mysterious raspberry compound around their eyes and on their hands.

At the very sight of them coming so close to the general, his courage left him completely. He started shaking on his mount. By the time the entourage made it to the coast, they could see thousands of blue people with pink scales emerge from the edge of the thin forest. They wrapped around for as far as the eye could see. By then the rumor of leprosy had spread throughout the ranks and the entire legion decided to take off for home without their general. He was left on the beach screaming for help when his ships were well out to sea. When he turned around and saw the many thousands of forest people behind him, and his dead soldiers who had been put in wicker boxes that were held high in the air by long wooden poles. He collapsed and died from a heart attack on the shore. He was washed out to sea by the evening tide.

When they reached the beach, the poles were set deep into the sand and then set on fire so the retreating armies could see them long after they had deserted their general. The tall poles burned for days from the top down to the ground and could be seen long after the ashes of the dead had scattered in the wind.

The forest people retreated back across the landscape, burning the rest of the dead, and turning over the scorched soil as they retreated. Many stayed behind and planted tree cuttings along the edge of the forest.

At the end of the week, all the bands gathered in the open meadow and celebrated their victory with food and hot Meade wine—as ordered by Devin. In the end, they had lost many fewer lives than they ever expected and much fewer than the invaders had lost. They all gave thanks to Devin, their King.

Chapter Thirteen

A Pyrrhic Victory

After the celebration, Máire had never been happier. She was proud of Devin and even prouder of herself when he asked her to relate each detail of her triumph over the invading armies.

"We chose a spot by a tree to measure our distance. It took us 1000 paces to run from the tree to the first band's land at the edge of our forest on the southeastern side. We had to be able to run half of that before being seen and be far enough away to give the archers a chance to stop anyone getting close to us. We knew the cavalry led the march and were much faster than the rest of the men on foot, so we sent our fastest runners to a point by the tree to see how far and how long it would take the horses to reach us once we were within sight. We had to place our trap within that distance to give us time to retreat.

I had to determine the direction of the wind to know how long it would take for the stew vapors to sift through the air. I kept praying the winds would be behind us. They were not. There was little movement in any direction. That meant that it was going to be difficult to determine if they could even catch a whiff of the stew.

We had to be sure. We had to make a very difficult decision. We had to run a full half day toward the approaching invaders and create a camp that looked like it had been abandoned along with some spilt stew. It was the only way to make sure they would follow the scent for sure. Fortunately, they had not sent scouts ahead or the plan wouldn't have worked.

I went with one of the archers. We were two of the fastest runners. We carried a small pot of stew and some embers from our camp fire. We ran towards the marchers---close enough to hear the thunder of their footsteps. We created a makeshift camp that looked abandoned and then took off towards the one we set up with the tainted plants and animals. When we were back at our camp we made some riotous noises with our metal horns and drums to make sure we were heard as well and then took off towards the forest.

The invaders sent a small troop ahead to attack us---maybe thirty men on horses. They were almost upon us when we made it to the edge of the woods. The archers took down the first few. One of them was close enough to rip my clothes. The archers killed about twenty men. The others took off back to the camp to eat the stew as I expected.

By the time the rest of the marchers caught up to the camp, the sun was setting so they made camp. The timing was perfect. They were hungry and ravaged the cart of food. Making sure there was plenty of food was our best plan. Every camp was able to pick at least a small amount off the cart.

"Why didn't you return to us immediately?" asked Devin.

"Because one of our archers was badly wounded and I was caring for him. He died by dusk. It was unfortunate, but we then slipped back into the forest behind those in our second band. There was greater cover in those woods and we felt safer. Still, I noticed some men escaping from the camp and looking around the land of our first band for evidence of us. They found nothing until they wandered too close to us and then the archers made quick work of them. No other invaders left the camp after dusk and by the morning the wretched stew had affected most of the camp. Only the slaves were unaffected, as they were not fed. They had planned to give them morning gruel, but once the slaves saw that they were all sick, refused to eat."

Máire wanted to tell Devin what she was feeling---how frightened she was when they had put their heads to the ground and heard the thunder of footsteps. She wanted to tell him how she could smell them---masses of stinking soldiers long before they were seen. She wanted him to note the fear she felt when she looked far off in the distance and saw so much black smoke. She wanted to explain how terrified she was when a sudden troop of thirty soldiers had suddenly tore off from the others, and were racing across the land waving their swords and how it was pure luck bestowed by their ever present spirit that the small contingent of six brave men and herself ran fast enough to escape back into the woods. She wanted to say, I thought only of you Devin, running back to you and hoping we would have a night holding each other before we were all massacred by the savages.

But Devin was overwhelmed with the new tasks at hand. He kissed Máire and said a short prayer while he held her hand.

You were wonderful. All the rings in all the bands are grateful for your sacrifice and success. They comment each day on how your name will go down in our history as the bravest woman of our time."

And then he moved on to do his work. He had to count and refigure every footstep---every fact that had been repeated to him by so many. He wasn't getting any sleep. There were so many experiences that were new and had to be catalogued with new mnemonics and instruction. He spent many hours pulling the stones out from the inside of their private cave and rewriting their coded instructions. He was overwhelmed with work and meetings with the other Druids across the south end of the island.

One of the biggest tasks was to decide on the future of the captive slaves. Few wanted to return to the coast. They were afraid of the devastation they would find and the fear of massacred bodies everywhere. Most had witnessed a great deal of killing for the first time in their lives, and most important, most were happy just to eat.

Many wanted to stay with the forest people, but were not willing to follow the rules of the bands. Devin had to see to it that those people moved on north for they would eventually bring destruction to his own people. They had many meetings and consulted much of each other's history so they could handle the situation fairly. Finally, there came a point when Devin had to act his role whether he liked it or not. He had to send the non-cooperative people off with the threat of death at their back. He had to bring the largest band of expert archers to the forefront of the forest and threaten the stubborn people to leave. The more they protested on the point, the more firm he became. As one man stood and argued, shaking his fist and screaming at the people, he ordered his archers to shoot. The man fell instantly.

"That man was shaking his fists at us, spouting nonsense about what we had to do and didn't have to do. You make a big deal out of minor issues, he had said. What did that man who could not protect his family know of minor issues? He was not a known enemy, but he would become an unknown enemy," said Devin loudly.

"That man would fight us at every turn spouting his own commands and living by his own rules. He would be deceptive and cause harm to many of his own band that he had sworn to protect.

Any who stay must obey the rules of the ancients no matter their personal opinions and obviously this man would never be able to comply and yet, did not want to leave. Why? Because he thought he knew better, and yet he did not. He liked being fed, but wanted to work for only what he ate. He was not clean or industrious. We cannot be sustained by such conduct.

He had planned to challenge me as if a physical confrontation of some kind would win him the people's favor. He did not understand the forest people. Harmony and cooperation are imperative regardless of opinions. Only the ancients and the spirits were wise enough to protect the forest people from extinction. The rest of you are free to go. You know who you are. You know that you could not live as we do and will want to return to your own ways. It is only because we offer you a choice that you think you can come into our world on your own terms. That is unacceptable," said Devin.

"Since you made your desires and views very clear, you will now have to leave our lands. You cannot return and are no longer welcomed. If you persist you also will be brought down by our archers." The many archers pulled their bows. They watched thousands of people who had been captured as slaves retreat to the north.

"Those of you who have accepted our terms may now choose you leader and join that band."

Chapter Fourteen

The Family Grows Despite Itself

All but a very few chose Devin as their Druid. They saw him as their liberator and he had no choice but to accept them into his own band.

This was difficult to handle, because then Devin had to negotiate with the leaders of the closest bands to allow his people some space on their lands. The negotiations became so difficult that Devin pleaded with some of them to re-interview some of the slaves and invite them into their band again. He wanted them to explain how their refusal could lead to years of poverty and want, for there were not enough resources within his own band to handle so many.

In the end, the other leaders held several meetings with their people. Some of the previously enslaved men were offered families with no men---widows and their children and women were offered proposals from men to join their families. Over a few more days of negotiations almost half more were separated out into the other bands leaving Devin with a manageable amount of people along with the beautiful woman with the black hair, violet eyes, and porcelain complexion---and her son or younger brother. These were the only two he was sure he wanted in his own home, so he invited them into his ring.

What he didn't expect was Máire's bulging eyes and sharp tongue over the change. Devin ignored her assuming time would bring her around.

"What are your names?" he asked the young woman.

"I am Geneviève, and my brother's name is Shea."

"She speaks with the same accent as Fitzhugh," said Máire with viciousness in her voice that frightened the little boy. He pulled on his sister's arm begging her to move away from the fearsome sounding woman.

Devin looked at Máire with such a face of sadness and disappointment in his eyes that she quieted, but had no look of apology.

"Geneviève, this is Máire and I am Devin. We will use our names within our house. You will not call me by any name or title than what I have said, nor Máire by any other name or title. Do you understand?"

She lowered her eyes, and nodded and tugged on her brother's arm and he did the same.

"Máire is my wife, though I was not her first choice. She rejected me most humiliatingly for a brute from your part of the land."

Máire blushed a dozen shades of red and was enraged with the immediate familiarity he took with the strangers. He had never before said such a humiliating thing in front of her---even at his angriest moments, and yet, she could not say it was untrue.

Geneviève did not move a muscle or show any response except to look at Devin with a great deal of curiosity for she found him magnificent beyond words and couldn't imagine such a thing.

"The man she married was a man named Fitzhugh. Did you know him? He was a sea captain."

Geneviève nodded a slight no without changing her expression. Shea jumped in. "I know the brute," he said. "He paraded himself around our village, showing off his wealth, but when beggars asked for a coin he threw them his smallest one and then he would kick them in the stomach. Everyone knew he was a cheat and a bastard. Even his wife of many years . . . and his many children I might add. He let them live in poverty while he threw money away in taverns and at gambling tables.

I think he brought the invaders to our coast. I saw him meet with the general when they were still on the beach. Then he boarded his own ship and left."

"How did his family fare?"

"They were all killed like almost everyone else in our village. He probably . . ."

At this Geneviève put her hand on Shea's arm. He stopped in the middle of his sentence.

"How old are you?" asked Devin.

"I am ten and my sister is eighteen," he added which made Geneviève blush.

"You are very astute for your age," Devin said sending a message to Máire to watch her language in the future.

"How many people were in your own ring?" asked Devin.

"Our parents, an older brother, and a baby sister were all killed by the invaders," he said with sudden tears streaming down his eyes just as he was about to describe them. "We had an aunt and uncle with children who lived next to us. My uncle was a cobbler and my aunt helped him."

"We can learn about them later and we will all pray for them this evening," he added.

"I'm sure you can imagine Máire's predicament then," said Devin as he went on to tell their private story. "Máire felt like she was about to die. She wanted to flee, but she dared not for there was no place for her to go and no room in any of the rings in the entire clan."

It was too late. She couldn't understand Devin's reasoning. Why was he debasing her so in front of these strangers? How could he reveal such private things? But then what did she do that was wrong? She dropped her head feeling embarrassed.

Maybe I can run back to my cave by the sea tonight, she thought. I was fine before he and his tutor found me. But why should I not be ashamed? I humiliated him myself, and in front of his whole band. How could he not carry his revenge around inside of him? He is going to replace me with this stranger, and why shouldn't he? She is so beautiful and young. I have been a constant source of interruptions and irritations to him with my constant questions and big ideas . . . do this and try that! As if he didn't have a brain of his own. First I reject him and then I act like I'm better than he is. Many of his people have complained that I am snobbish. They tell him I act like I am better than all of them. They have even asked him to discard me for one who might be more soothing and supportive. Maybe I went too far with my haughtiness. I just wanted to help. It was not conceit. I swear it wasn't, she rattled on to herself hoping it would be over soon.

"When Máire agreed to come to my home, I couldn't have been happier. Of course, I never felt her equal. I had never met anyone with such enthusiasm for knowledge and so helpful with the forest people. She receives no recognition for her sacrifices. She has brought such enlightenment to our people and yet, they give me all the credit. It has been a pleasure to watch such a magnificent soul work with my people." He lifted his wife's head and saw the tears streaming down her face.

Chapter Fifteen

His Pain Begins to Show

Now we would like to hear about your own lives and the story of your family and their deaths."

"My parents were bakers," said Shea. "My mother knew how to harvest any grain and make flour. She made breads and cakes and my father managed all the ovens and the customers. The strangers frightened our mother. When the invaders came to our land, my father hid us in one of the ovens that no longer could be lit and the enemy never looked beyond what was in front of them in the store. They stole everything we owned. Then they killed everyone.

"Was there no other place to hide you or the baby?"

"Even with the loudest noises those men could make, there was no way to hide the baby's screams," said Geneviève. "My father thought that my mother would be spared if she held on to our little sister but they didn't pause for a second. It was all over before I could count the fingers on my two hands."

"When you were in hiding, did you see the killings?"

"No," said Shea. "Only after we left the oven did we see them. They cut them all down with their swords.

"Then they died quickly," said Devin. "Such men can only kill quickly or it would bother most of them and keep them from sleeping."

"But they all acted insane. I thought nothing could bother such people," said Geneviève speaking for the first time.

"For some it is hate of another kind. In these cases, most of the invaders are only rewarded after they have killed, and the sooner they get it out of their way, the more plunder they can garner. How then were you captured?" he asked Geneviève. She didn't want to answer but knew she had to or be excluded from the confidence of the family forever.

"When we thought they had left, that is we saw all of them clear out of the village and retreat to their route towards the west, I went to gather up my parents for burial and prayers. But the leader suddenly came into our store looking to see what was plundered. He took anything that was especially valuable away from the men---coins or jewels. But he knew the value of our metals and baking utensils. He had brought a cart along with several men who gathered up what he pointed to and hurried the items out. If only we weren't the bakers and instead the cobblers. He saw us then and there was not enough time to hide." She started to cry, but he made her go on.

"What did he do then?" asked Devin.

"He tied our wrists and we marched with the rest of the slaves. That night he took us to his tent where we were tied to stakes in the ground.

"Then . . ." she stared but stopped.

"Tell him," yelled Shea.

"He took off all our clothes and left the tent open for all to see. Then he raped my sister in front of all his men who yelled obscenities as if they were being entertained," cried Shea. "My sister would have died as he was molesting her cruelly---he was so evil, he could not be satisfied. I thought she was going to die," cried Shea.

"But I didn't," said Geneviève. "He became ill the morning after we reached the borders of your forest. He vomited for a whole day. Even when he decided to move the troops again, he had to hide his illness for his weakness nearly overwhelmed him. He didn't want to let the others know he was sick and closed the tent. He had no strength."

"I wanted to kill him but I couldn't find a weapon and I was tied to a post," added Shea.

"Yes, but when we left, you were brave enough to gather our clothes and cover us before we had to walk with the marchers. I also covered my head with a fragment of cloth I picked up off a dead soldier. It helped me seem less obvious. His illness too may have made him forget who I was until we started out towards this ridge."

Máire now felt guilty for her judgment of the woman and her brother. She too had been similarly tortured, and the truth was she knew, had not come out of it with as kind a disposition as this woman. She had been a victim through no fault of her own except that she was pretty. They were not so unalike. But she was still a threat to her happy existence. Máire did not want to share Devin's affections with anyone.

The first evening together ended in long prayers of thanks for their safety, for the successes of the forest people, and for their continued prosperity. Devin picked several prayers about understanding and forgiveness. He kept them at it until they were all very weary. He knew it would help them sleep after being so emotional. And he was right. They were all exhausted and slept way too late in the morning.

Devin was gone when they all woke and he left instructions for them to take the day off---that meant that they did not have to do regular chores and could spend the day doing the things they loved like drawing and writing, or sewing and fishing.

Still in the beginning Máire felt very threatened by Geneviève and she tried her best to boss her around, relegating her to cleaning fish, or washing Devin's used stones which was the most rigorous and difficult job of the household---work expected by everyone. Geneviève did not really mind, and found that a slow methodical system after the stones had been soaked overnight worked just as well as the vigorous scraping that wore on her skin. She was very quiet and spent her days with household chores, while Máire and Devin increased their time with experiments out in the woods and by the lakes. Rosemáire on the other hand, changed her routine favoring Geneviève's company over that of her mother and father.

Geneviève was aware of Máire's dislike for her. And she understood her jealousy, but she also desired Devin madly and was grateful for being saved. While Máire had him all to herself for the entire day, she came home snappish, impatient, and condescending. Geneviève tried her best to be amiable in the evenings. She wrote poetry and songs during the day and recited them in the evenings after dinner. After nearly two years of frustration with Máire's lack of friendliness, she wrote the following and read it after dinner.

To Máire

If you were to walk along a path,

and find a bird disabled,

You would not ask how it fell,

its head hung low, its wings distended.

Nor would you wait for it to beg,

for aid, or food, or shelter,

for you would know it could not ask,

or even sense no harm from danger.

And if you were wise and truly good,

A person with heart and valor,

You wouldn't startle the helpless bird,

with unsure advances in a careless, fumbling manner.

You would clearly say "Why how about this?

I've stumbled on a needy one, an accident of fate.

Guess no one else is here to help.

Trust me, I'll mend my little mate."

Of course the bird may cower some,

a natural fear for one known to prey,

but with time and efforts sincere,

the bird will adhere to one of cheer.

Máire was moved by the entreaty, but not enough to change for very long. So Geneviève waited another week to sing her poem, only this time added a melody. That evening, when she had finished, she sang something new and Devin suddenly got up from the fire and went out into the forest by himself. He had recognized the tune. He hadn't heard it for almost twenty years, but he was sure it was the one sung by the dear priestess that had died.

How could it be? he thought over and over.

Could she be the one reborn as had been foretold by the priestess. Did she know who she was or was she now another woman of no power and no memory of her prior life? Devin went off to his temple that night and prayed for an answer. He would ask her some questions. She might even know that she had come before as a Druid like himself.

Chapter Sixteen

Our Knowledge on Reincarnation Must Be Wrong

"I must take Genevieve out with me tomorrow. I need to begin to teach her the skills you have learned Máire."

At this Máire was furious and started pumping him for an explanation and as soon as she did, Devin seemed to change as he stood in front of both of the women.

"Dare you ask me to explain myself . . . you who have never explained yourself to me?"

Máire knew instantly what he meant, and decided not to provoke him. But once again, she was miffed by bringing their private quarrel up in front of this foreign member of their family, for whether she like it or not, Geneviève would be there to stay. The bands had commanded that any orphaned mother was welcome to join a family of her choice, and while Geneviève was not Shea's mother, she was his sole support. She was not going to abandon herself to some family unknown for the sake of Máire's insecurities, and she was definitely not going to leave the home of the only man she had ever loved.

"Be fed and wait by the hearth at daybreak when I return."

Devin huffed off with a look of command over his household that he had never shown before. It was not within him to be demanding. But he was overwrought with questions and had to sort out the best way to uncover the truth about Geneviève

When they had moved to a cool spot in the woods where many berry bushes thrived, he grabbed her hand and brought her down to an embankment of grass.

"Dear Geneviève, please hum the tune you sang last evening after dinner."

She had to think and then did as he asked.

"Where did you learn that song?"

"As a child I expect. I don't really remember."

"Do you remember having lived before?"

"No," she answered looking astounded.

"Do you remember knowing me?"

"No, but I do sometimes think I've always known you. It's a strange feeling."

"As if from another life?"

"I don't know. Possibly."

"Do you remember traveling around the island as a priestess . . . a Druid like me?"

"No I can't say I have any such memory."

"Do you remember fighting off attackers in your past?"

"No, not at all. In fact, when I was being attacked I hoped and prayed some distance knowledge would come to me as I felt so completely ill equipped to defend myself and was proven so by the gruesome men you exiled."

"Just one more question. Do you remember owning a staff---a tall root that you used to walk with and used also as a weapon?"

"No I'm afraid not," she answered feeling completely perplexed.

"Why do you ask these questions?"

"Because you sang a song that I heard almost twenty years ago. It was sung by a woman who said she loved me and that she would return to me . . . she said that she wanted me to love her without reservations."

"Did you have reservations?"

"Yes, I did because she was much older than I was and had been attracted to me at the time. I never imagined that she'd be talking about another life. And I had felt rejected."

"By Máire."

"Yes. It was before she married Fitzhugh."

"I see. I didn't know. I guessed she was a widow."

"She was divorced by the Fir Umaille."

"Does she still love the man?"

"She may not but she still loves the image of him and still does not . . . never mind. It is not important. I can see that our reincarnations are extremely mysterious. It may be that when we die we already have our plans made for our new destiny. Otherwise, you would have been reincarnated as the great priestess Maura Kea who had once ruled this island with a magic staff."

"It does not seem possible to me."

"I know. That would be the mystery we dare not allow ourselves to understand."

That night, Devin went back to the cave to sleep by himself. Even this annoyed Máire despite her seemingly obnoxious indifference to his bed for the past fifteen years.

When there was finally peace within the ring, two other children were allowed to join their family. They were two young girls, several years younger than Colin and Shea. Their foster parents had come begging Devin for help since he was one of a few rings with two women available to run the home. He agreed after asking both Máire and Geneviève, and both were afraid to seem even a little bit difficult. And both had agreed that in the ways of the forest people, their responsibilities were as great as Devin's for often the women in the bands had come to them for advice and help---and both seemed to enjoy their status.

What turned out to be most amazing was by this time Rosemáire had seemed to become a great student of the mnemonic knowledge of the bands and was seen often teaching various children. She seemed to have developed a following of her own without any formal declarations by Devin. He was glad for if ever there was a natural leader, it was Rosemáire. She had been the only child that had shown a love for hard work, patience, and compassion. She took over all responsibilities for the two girls and they copied her ways as if she were a queen.

Meanwhile, Rosemáire's judgment of her mother had become so evident that Máire was now aware of her disapproval, but let her know without anger. Rosemáire would sit next to her father's place at dinner, and when Máire lost her temper, Rosemáire would strum her father's knee as she had done so many times before and then fold her hands in a little prayer. He had heard her often say to her mother, "You must put your unhappy feelings behind you. You have suffered enough." She has the makings of a great Druid, he had often said to himself.

As time passed, Máire often replaced Geneviève in the home and allowed her to go out with Devin to learn about the forest while she engaged in the household chores. This was not completely altruistic. She had noticed Devin's pleasure when he came home to an organized house, a perfectly prepared supper, an evening of prayers and song. She could not sing---that much she knew. But she could compose poems as well as Geneviève and wanted to see if Devin was as glad to come home to her as he had been with Geneviève.

Soon, the exchanges in duties became more pleasant and second nature to everyone---each of the women glad for a change and equally happy with being home or out collecting honey. All of the previous year of animosity began to dissipate as they realized that Devin was mostly attracted to their enterprises and mutual respect and only chose to be near either one when they got along.

The final and most reversing change came when Máire asked Geneviève to ride over to the coast with her. She had gone often on her own, while she could see Geneviève was longing for such a trip. Finally, she decided to invite her along. They had been living together for nearly three years and no longer quarreled. Máire had a surprise. She had spent many hours alone weaving the finest weasel skins into a vest for Devin for his birthday. Now, she wanted to buy Devin some tobacco for one of her pipes. When they arrived at the market on a small street along the port, Geneviève was thrilled. People seemed to have come from everywhere.

She grabbed Máire's hand. "It takes me back to my childhood. I had no idea there was so much trade going on here. I should have brought along something of my own to trade."

"Never mind. I will gladly trade for you. Then when we are home, you can give me something in return."

"Like what?" asked Geneviève? "I can't think of a thing you might like."

"But I would like you to make me a fine dress---a blue dress from top to bottom. The color makes my hair look pretty. I have never had one and you always look so beautiful."

"Of course I will make you a dress," she said smiling. "And look at these beautiful bright colors. With this new yarn I will also make Devin a fine new skirt---one with bright colors and patterns."

And make us a shawl with the same patterns. Then everyone will know we are part of the king's family. I want one that goes around my arms and goes all the way below my belt."

"And I will make a matching one---a long piece that goes over one shoulder and all the way down to the edge of my skirt. I will also keep it on with a belt."

So that day, Geneviève and Máire went shopping along the harbor and traded all her pipes for tobacco, silk scarves, fine yarns, and most importantly, a new loom that would allow her to make intricate designs with her brightly dyed wools.

Chapter Seventeen

Discomfort Still Brews

Máire's son Colin and Geneviève's Shea seemed to hit it off from the beginning, but they were always completely loyal to their respective guardians when they were home for supper.

Once out and about in the woods, they truly enjoyed each other's company and searched the woods for new bugs, animals, or plant leaves. They were very careful, almost as meticulous as they had been taught by Devin, and had learned to memorize all the names of the plants and types of trees.

"I don't understand why we have to be so careful all the time," said Colin. "There were other families outside of the forests that got along well---sometimes even for their whole lives."

"Are you crazy?" said Shea. "Didn't you hear about the devastation of the coastal areas? I bet even today, it's horrific."

"Let's ask our father if we can go and revisit the land you came from," said Colin eagerly.

"I'm not sure I want to go back. I don't know if my parents were buried. Their cut up corpses may still be scattered around the store. I couldn't stand to see that even after all this time."

Still Colin was very anxious to go and persisted.

"If you saw what happened, you would understand your father's constant vigilance. In the town we came from the people were generally good, just like the people here, but when it came to money they did not trust each other and quarreled over things all the time. There were brawls and disagreements over the least little thing. And children weren't forced to learn like we are. Our lives were boring."

"But we are not forced to learn. We choose to because that's the way to survive and help our families," said Colin. "I'm happy to help my family. I remember when my mother and I lived in a cave and never talked to anyone. There were a lot of marauders that came around and she was afraid I would be stolen."

"Yes, but where I lived children didn't get a chance to learn like we do. There was nothing like traipsing around in the woods and cataloguing bugs and plants. Children had to wash clothes or scrub the floors and streets. It was dreary every day. Some days we had to sit and sand down stones at a wheel. My parents made me work in the bakery when there were no other chores. I had to clean pans every day without exception. And children were not allowed to play if there was any work to do and there was always work. There was always fear in everyone's home.

That evening the boys retold their discussion, and asked Devin if they could go back to the coast to see what had happened since the invasion. Colin was imagining that Devin would say yes, and the next day, the two would pack a meal and start off on a merry trip on their own.

Both Máire and Geneviève protested vehemently, but Devin thought it was a good idea. Colin had to learn about the reasoning behind their way of life. He went along with all the rules, but Devin could see that he was not convinced that they were necessary.

"I think we will go back in a fortnight. I must check with our other bands before making a decision. There may be some other leaders that want to go along. I will call on our most distinguished archers and have them prepare for a trip."

"Why do we need them?" asked Colin feeling the whole purpose of their mission would be subjugated to the will of the other bands. He also imagined that they would sneak up on the town and just watch what was going on from a distance---that they would not have to have protection or get into any conflicts because they would be hiding. He relayed his opinions to Devin and all he said was, "Yes, this sojourn is needed---and maybe not just for you." This really annoyed Colin. He felt like he was being donned some kind of troublemaker or ignoramus and if the leaders looked real hard they may find one or two more dopes that needed to be taught a lesson.

Devin couldn't have been more right about the need for the trip to educate a few skeptics in their midst. After meeting with the other band leaders, one named Doyle insisted on going along.

"I have inherited a son from one of the slave families and the boy is very difficult. All he talks about is going home. He said he made a mistake by not returning with his brother."

"Then he must go," said Devin. "Any more names that are proposed after your weekly gathering please bring them to me so we can make sure we eliminate all the doubters from our lands. We must be patient and remember that for these youngsters, they know no other life and have to wonder why our way is better than theirs. We will have our archers prepare and scout out the trip before we leave. When they return with enough information for us, then they will prepare for our journey."

They started out walking through the forest for several days before being close enough to the coast to walk out in the open road. There were two archers, and then Devin and Doyle at the head of the entourage, followed by Colin and Shea. Behind them three additional young men followed who were a bit older than Devin's boys. Behind them were the two additional archers.

After the archers had returned with their findings, they directed everyone towards the most southern side of the coastal community where there was little ravaging. It had been the poorest area and mostly ignored by the invaders. Some of Jonan's soldiers had raced through the area stealing many of the young people. The three boys who had chosen to stay with the forest people had come from this area. They were anxious to find their families and to their amazement, there was no one anywhere except one old man who was sitting close to a stone and he said that all the survivors had walked away because there was nothing to eat. He said the invaders had stolen all the livestock so they left in search of food.

Devin asked their direction and the man merely waved his hand around the horizon in all directions.

"Those who lived here have scattered. We will walk north."

As they walked on, they came across a section that once had been the most thriving part of the coast. Shea couldn't believe his eyes. There were no more buildings or residents. Crumbled huts, stray animals were all that was left. There were pockets of trash where most of the strays congregated. Off towards the west, there were obvious large graves where mounds of dirt had been covered over skeletons that were piled up.

"The people who lived here were the richest. There is nothing left."

A few beggars started emerging from the barren stone havens. Devin had been very clear with his instructions. Do not talk to the strangers we pass for any reason.

They moved along and came upon Shea's home. Here there were many more people scurrying about. But there was no evidence of industriousness---just many skeletal like people looking for something to eat. Shea was a little excited because he didn't see the devastation they had just passed. Something had blocked his vision---something had clouded his eyes. Things looked cleaner---not normal, but he thought, at least not as bad as what we've just passed.

He looked around for a familiar face and didn't see any. When they walked past the cobbler's shop, he stopped the trek and motioned to Devin that this was where his aunt and uncle had lived. Devin signaled for two of the archers to follow him and they entered the shop. They were prepared to fire on any attackers, but there was no one there. They exited and walked next door to the bakery. This shop was also empty---at least the dead had probably been buried, thought Devin. He motioned for Shea to come and see if there was anything worth having from his parent's home, but he was too afraid to search the empty rooms. So Devin walked behind the table, looking for evidence of prior owners and there was none. He went back into the private rooms and they had been picked clean. He saw something shiny in the rubble and dug through the pile of debris and found a silver trinket. It was a small bracelet. He picked it out of the dust and wiped it off. He gave it to Shea.

"It was given to my mother when she was a child and then to my sister when she was little. She gave it to the baby when she turned three. I will return it to Geneviève."

A few seconds later they exited the shop. The entourage moved on and the number of people milling about increased yet again. Still Shea was hopeful to find someone he knew, but there was no one. People were especially quiet and hidden in their homes. There were quite a few marauders trying to start a fight with this or that beggar. They came across one or two groups of men who tried to attack them, but it was as if there was a guardian angel surrounding them, for none were strong enough to bully the forest people.

When they reached the north end of the village there was still no change and Devin felt as if he had seen enough to answer any questions any of them might have. They turned around on the outskirts of the village and rode back southwest. They set up camp just inside the edge of the most eastern bands of the forest people who lived in the thinner woods. They had been waiting for them and were anxious to help with their camp.

Later that evening Shea asked Devin why so many people had left.

"Because they were hungry," said Devin. "People will search out food the same way animals do---by migrating. But they may find people who have already settled and will fight to keep others away. Or they may find barren lands. Obviously, the invaders had cleaned out the coastal areas leaving nothing. And except for the fish, they had no renewable foods. There were no fruit trees planted, no berry bushes, or vegetable gardens grown around the shelters. The people on the coast seemed to believe they could survive on fish," he said sadly. "They had nothing left to trade and no resources left to bargain for work."

"Why did they fail?"

"They refused to be organized. Many people think we are silly for being prepared when we may never be invaded. Sometimes we go a lifetime without an incursion of any kind. But we want to survive and most importantly, we want our forests to survive for they will sustain our populations for thousands of generations to come."

"What something else?" asked Shea.

"What do you mean?" asked Devin.

"You said they might have been thinking of something else when they refused to prepare."

"Oh yes. Some may have thought the forest people would come to their rescue as they had done many times before. But we have learned that we cannot save so many who are not prepared. The last time we intervened, we lost half our population and it took us ten years to recover---ten years before we stopped losing people to starvation. After that, we voted and agreed that this time we would not intervene on their behalf. We sent several of our best speakers to their lands. They wandered the streets for a year informing all of the coastal people that the forest people would not return when they were invaded again."

"I understand," said Shea. "My father spoke of it. Can we go into our home?"

"Of course, if you want we will go back to your home tomorrow."

When they arrived, Devin turned to everyone and ordered the crew to stand right outside the door and not to speak to anyone.

While Colin and Shea were in the stores, Colin became impatient. He didn't know what the big deal was. He decided to explore when he heard a strange noise coming from behind the buildings. As he approached, he realized that it sounded like some kind of skirmish and tried to take cover on the side of the building wall before being discovered, but it was too late.

Several children around his age, who had been scavenging in a trash heap, saw him and attacked him immediately, ripping his clothes and begging for food. He was so startled that he started screaming in fright. One of the archers hurried around and shot an arrow into the trash. He startled the starving children, and they let go of Colin. The archer grabbed him by the pants and dragged him back to their companions. He was obviously shaken and wanted to hurry away, but didn't want his father to know what he had done. He was hoping the archer wouldn't tattle on him.

He didn't, and when Devin and Doyle returned they started home. They rode as long as they could until it was after dusk and they were well-hidden back in their forests. They weren't even hungry and Devin said they could eat some fruit and he would make a large breakfast for them before starting back in the morning. Except for the archers who were used to strenuous exercise, especially long distance running, the little group fell asleep almost immediately, but Colin's ability to drift off was hampered by fear. He couldn't understand it. He thought for sure that he would be immune to a few starving beggars and really didn't feel affected by a few shiftless men who malingered.

Suddenly, a woman was grabbing on to him gasping for air. She was saying something to him, but he couldn't understand or hear distinct words. Her eyes had become vacuous and finally looked dead. He realized it was his mother's face, but then it changed to one of the starving children and he was pushing the desperate hands off of him. When she let go, she was dead, and a whole group of mourners around her broke into hysterical machinations of distress and praying that their Druid mother would not pass. He was so confused. She can't be Máire, he was saying to himself. She was too young. She had young children. He stood over her feeling so desperate and wanting to cry, but then he couldn't because she wasn't the one hanging on to him. It was a monster with huge red flaming eyes. Then his cheek stung so badly, he screamed---I'm on fire, I'm on fire.

Devin got up and went over to shake him.

"Colin, wake up!" A small ember had cracked and flew across to Devin's cheek. Devin flicked it off. "You're having a bad dream."

"I saw a red monster attacking me," he cried.

"It was not a monster. You fell asleep facing the campfire and it was the last thing you saw as you drifted off. The image worked its way into your dream. Your dream replayed the trauma you experienced today when you were attacked by the starving children."

"How did you know?"

"Of course, you don't think you could disobey my orders and that I wouldn't be told? You are given instructions for a reason. You were so proud of yourself as if you might be immune to horror, because you had some fear of hunger when you were very young. But your mother was very good at finding food and protecting you from thieves. She was the one who actually endured the fear. You were always provided for with abundance and have no idea what real starvation is like, nor have you been exposed to true treachery. You will suffer the consequences of being exposed to inhumanity just like everyone else."

"But why?"

"Why what?" asked Devin.

"Why will I suffer?"

"Because it is not the way humans are supposed to live.

"So why were they so unprepared?"

"Because sometimes when people feel invulnerable, they get lazy. How many times have you asked me if you could go swimming instead of learning about your forest?"

"Many I suppose."

"But you are allowed plenty of time to play and swim---both you and Shea. There are reasons for you to understand the ways of the forest. You have to have the knowledge of our ancestors to survive. Let me show you."

Devin took a small pouch out of his bag.

"This formula of soothing ointments has been handed down through generations. It will help heal your little wound so you won't have a scar or get an infection. Your mother added some ointment she made from aloe to make it a little more soothing." He put a small amount of it on Devin's small burn.

"If we didn't test everything we wouldn't know what worked for each problem. It was your catalogue that allowed Máire and I to experiment and improve this salve."

"My burn feels worse now," complained Colin.

"The sting will be completely gone in a few minutes. Put your head back down."

Colin did as he was told.

"But I don't understand why we have to spend so much time on poems, and hymns in the evenings," he moaned as Devin's presence seemed to calm him and gave him confidence to speak his mind.

"Do you want to sleep peacefully, or would you like to have more nightmares?"

"I want to sleep peacefully, of course," said the boy, "but . . ."

Devin held up his hand to stop him from trying to rationalize his behavior or discount the seriousness of what he saw.

"Then recite one of your poems before you sleep."

Colin did as he was told, and his eyes started getting heavy.

"Now do you feel better---calmer and more secure?"

"Yes, but I'll never understand what it is all about. I mean why do some people act the way they do and why is our way so different. Sometimes I think much of what we do makes other people dislike us more---the way we hide from others. Shea and I heard a group of people walking by our forest one time and heard them talking. They said, "These are the lands of those strange forest people. We hear they eat each other and another said, They live in trees like animals. They were laughing."

"But you know that what they said is untrue. Why does that bother you?"

"I don't know exactly. I know I just wanted to tell them the truth."

"And what would your truth be?"

"I would want to tell them that we live in lovely meadows within the forests. That we stack stones around us like everyone else, but we also build places for our fires for cooking. I would want to tell them that we get our water and fish from fresh streams and that they are bountiful and beautiful. I would want to explain why we use all of what we catch in the woods. I would want to tell them that our families live their own lives in peace as they wish."

"You see Colin. It's a natural human feeling to brag about your own life and the prosperity we maintain, but we have to work at it every day. Many people would be jealous of what you would tell them and want to take it away. You would not be able to explain how much constant work is involved in maintaining the sustenance of so many people. Now, do you understand why?"

"I think I do. But then why can't we help those starving children?"

"We do as much as we can without threatening our own existence. When Geneviève and Shea came into our little ring, think about all the other prisoners that were saved. There were thousands of people and we took many into our bands. Some of them are very happy, but many decided to go off on their own."

"Why aren't those people coming back and raiding us?"

"A few have tried. You don't know everything that goes on within the forest. Still most of the slaves are now happy to be free and follow our rules. We would like to save the whole world, but we can't. We do what we can. Now tell me the feeling that you were having in your dream."

"I was being attacked and felt like I was dying."

"Do you feel better now?"

"I still feel terrible about those children. Maybe we can just save them? There were only four."

"We'll make camp here and stay for a few days. I'll go back with two of the archers and see if any of them might want to come along. But they will have to be orphans. We cannot kidnap children from parents and we cannot take in any more refugees. You know that, right?"

"Yes."

"And you must promise to stay in the camp. If I can't trust you, then when I return I will have to expel you from the forest. Our survival is based on trust. You know that, and you must never break it again. Can you stay put here until I return?"

"Yes," said Colin. He fell asleep.

Chapter Eighteen

Saving More Lives

Devin had to make plans for abducting the children, and explain to the other leader what he needed to do back at the camp. He then made a mental list of every experience of the day so it could be memorized and passed along to the understudies at home. He was still wide awake when he should have been ready to doze easily. He took out a mild sedative from his bag---something he rarely did. But if he didn't get enough rest to get over to the coast and back, he would be putting many lives in danger. He mused.

Why pray tell,

Do minds work so well in the wee hours of the morning?

Explain do you mind, Can you make it clear?

Why at this hour are philosophies dear?

How is it then, that poets can pull from nowhere it seems?

Words and exaggerated pufferies.

Even average minds of general phrases,

Are suddenly plump with

Poems and grand faces,

Applying new meanings and wild applications to simple human exchanges.

It was dawn when Devin and his two archers arrived back at the deserted home of Geneviève and Shea. They slipped into town unnoticed by any possible weary survivors and headed for the pile of rubbish. He would know if they were orphans if he found the children in the same location. If they were gone, that meant they had adults to go home to after scavenging around the trash.

The trio approached the back of the stores with great care watching for any movement. Just as Devin expected, all four of the orphans were sound asleep on the pile of garbage and looked like they were inches from death. There were three boys that had to be somewhere between five and eight and one baby girl around the age of five. The archers brought small blankets and scooped up the boys into their arms and started back towards the forest as fast as they could. Devin picked up the other two baby children and did the same. They were gone from the borders of the town before the sun actually came up. When the children woke they were all too weak to protest. Each were given an utter filled with milk to suck on during their trip and the nourishment not only calmed them but put them back to sleep.

They made it back to their camp before dusk---when fortunately it was light enough to examine them physically. They were all covered with bruises and scars and caked on filth. They had little sticks for limbs. Again they were given some milk and soup and then Devin made sure they were washed. He knew they probably had lice and fleas in their clothing. Their rags were burned and they were given some plain straight long night shirts made from sheepskins to wear until they made it home.

As soon as they made it to the edge of their lands, Devin and Shea were waiting---both eager to see them. Shea kept looking at the little girl.

"She looks just like my little sister," Shea said. "But I swear she died when one of the soldiers stabbed her and the sword had gone all the way through her body. The child had stopped crying as soon as she fell. Even her eyes looked dead."

Devin looked very carefully and found no wounds on her body, but she still had a small lump on the back of her head.

"It seems your mother may have knocked her out when she fell to the stone floor. Does she know you?"

"She doesn't recognize me." He was close to tears.

"She's been traumatized. Who knows how long she laid under your dead mother or how she got free. She's in a strange place and will only respond to nourishment and safety. Do you know the boys?"

"No, but I could understand them---I think. I mean if they were from the coast. Two of them look foreign."

"Let's wait until they want to speak with us before asking them any questions."

As soon as they returned to the band, the children were taken to their matron---a woman who took care of heads, hands, and feet for the entire band. She had to shave their heads in case they had lice. She was so good at what she did they hardly realized what had been happening. After their scalps were treated, she gave them each an adorable hat made from rabbit fur. Each had floppy ears sown on the sides. The baby's had ties for under the chin so it wouldn't come off and the boys looked like typical caps with turned up sides. Since many of the children in the band wore their caps when their heads were being treated or when it was especially cool during the day, the children never thought a thing about it. When they were finished, he took them back to his home for a nice hot meal.

As soon as Genevieve saw the little girls she gasped and the child ran to her arms.

"You found our little Amie. I can't believe it," she cried as she rocked the baby.

"We weren't sure. She didn't recognize Shea," said Devin making sure that she wouldn't say anything to make him feel worse. Of course, she would know me first and it's only because I rocked her to sleep every night. Now that she remembers me, her memories of Shea will return quickly," said Geneviève as the tears continued to stream down her cheeks uncontrollably.

Chapter Nineteen

Time to Face Another Enemy

The pressure on Devin had become overwhelming but the recent trip to the coast only strengthened his belief in their way of life. Yet, the entire trip had caused him to have anxiety attacks and strong moments of uneasy premonitions. He was still a serious student of nature, but found it difficult to find time for himself. He was not the kind of person who could tolerate constant chatter or interruptions, especially at dinner.

His appearance had also changed. When Máire had jilted him at 17 he had looked gangly and dour. He didn't feel that way, but there was nothing about his appearance that inspired faith in his courage or abilities. He always looked a bit pale and forlorn. But time had been generous with his appearance. His rigorous daily work produced a handsome exterior that was most charming when he wore his bands customary white rabbit skins and well-made tapestries and always carried a look of compassion during their band's weekly prayer service.

But on the days of their royal celebrations each month, he wore his fine black mink vest made by Máire, a lightweight white shirt and plaid skirt fashioned by Geneviève, beautiful high leather boots, a hobby of Shea's, and carried a perfect bow and arrow pouch designed by Colin. He grew a beautiful shiny beard that he kept well groomed and wore his shoulder length hair tied behind his head.

One late afternoon, when he retreated to the top of the band's peak where a lookout stood watch, he relieved him of his duty. He stood with his pipe surveying the land he had vowed to keep safe, and felt a sense of accomplishment, despite his lingering fear that the invaders might come again. Máire and Geneviève watched from a distance, holding hands and wondering the same thing. He looked especially commanding, but now that they had all reached middle age, they knew their time was coming to an end.

He had bright blue eyes, and as he aged, his dark eyebrows finally separated and thinned straight across giving him a fearsome and at the same time a very attractive look. He had a charming smile when he showed it, and was blessed with huge dimples. He could look fearsome and impressive and yet he never did when he appeared in front of an enemy. His history had taught him that to appear threatening could cause an immediate attack and would not gain him an advantage. In fact, during negotiations was the only time he wore the customary white robes of a druid, let his hair loose, and carried a staff. The next time, he thought, I will have my hair dusted with white powder and curled. That should make me appear even more whimsical in front of an enemy.

Genevieve was shaking his shoulder.

Wake up Devin. You were screaming not this time---not this time over and over. What were you dreaming?"

"I finally remembered. These invaders may or may not be the same men that came here ten years ago."

"I don't think they are the same. We received a message from the first band and believe they are roman soldiers."

"Have you and Geneviève carried out my instructions?"

"Of course. Everything is ready."

"Are there more invaders than before?"

"No. But they are more disciplined and march faster. When they camp, they are up early and have prepared for travel almost immediately."

"Suddenly a memory came to me. These invaders will not be fooled by flowers and many painted animal heads in the forests. We cannot use the same tricks as we did with Máire's stew and we will not be able to frighten them with painted faces. They will only be frightened by skill, and . . ."

"Our messenger said that these men are not lazy and will steal or bring their own provisions."

"Send word that we must use the fly nests, and to capture as many wasps, hornets, and flies in them as possible for the next forty eight hours. I have prepared hundreds of pouches myself and hope the other bands have made theirs as well. Use as many raspberry jams as we have stored to attract the insects."

"Yes, we believe they have already, and Colin had sent word to have them prepared even if we don't use them. You did mention that yesterday before you came in here."

"I don't remember, but we will be using them," said Devin. "We will use all of them."

"Do you plan to meet the commander, out in the open as you did before?" asked Máire as she walked in behind Geneviève.

"Yes. And this time I will wear my best clothes---my mink vest, white blouse, and green tartan, and I will carry my bow. I will shave my beard as these men are clean shaven and will respect one who looks their equal."

And so Devin prepared to meet the enemy again, only this time, he looked strong and fearsome---so much so that his family hardly recognized him.

"All will be the same as before except that when I go to meet the general, I will expect our archers to be hidden only just inside the trees. These soldiers won't explore outside their ranks. They are more experienced. Every one of our archers must be prepared with the insect pouches at exactly the same moment. The women will also have to prepare the arrows behind the archers to they can send waves of them all at once."

"How will they know when to shoot?"

"We will have to use a noise they do not fear. I think the sound of the crickets will be the best. It will be heard down the line almost instantly and not have to go on after the first arrows are shot."

And so the strategy had changed, but the discipline of the forest people was the same. They would have one set of archers whose sole responsibility was to disable any catapult and the rest would line along the forest and be prepared to set off arrows with insect pouches on the end.

As before Devin and his four best archers rode out to meet the general. He was truly as arrogant as Jonan, but not nearly as skittish. Devin had covered part of his legs and the other archers with the skin preparation they had used before to save the slaves, but this time it was to keep the solders from approaching before they could be shot. There was no doubt in his mind that these men would be highly frightened by the prospect of leprosy.

As they approached the commander, he made sure the diseased looking skin was evident. He counted to himself and when he reached twenty-five, he said, "I am Devin Elean McKaeraer, chief of Fir Umaille and all who live on this island." That was not completely true, but since they were the only inhabitants that could or would defend it, he didn't think anyone else would mind. He counted to himself again---another twenty.

"I would appreciate it if you leave our land by the way you have come. We do not welcome foreign armies to our land."

The commander looked at the man with arrogance. He looked at the patches on his skin and smirked, but not with total confidence.

"Raise your white flag. Your people will be no match for our soldiers. They will be cut down before your eyes and then you will be drawn and quartered. The rest will be sent to Rome as slaves, and we will occupy your land so your people may become civilized."

Devin had reached the point of attack and did not wait to negotiate---the mistake in judgment made by the trespasser who valued his own voice as he made his treats. His archers were ready at the count of one hundred from the time he first spoke unless Devin raised his arm to call off the onslaught. He did not.

Within seconds, hundreds of arrows came out of the forest, each holding the pouches filled with angry insects and as they hit various members of the Roman entourage, thousands of wasps, hornets, dragon flies, and especially the large stinging horse flies were let loose sending the troops into a screaming disarray. Seconds later, Devin's archers took out the commanders' escort exactly as they had done once before, and once again, leaving an aggressor stunned. But this time, instead of allowing the commander to escape home and retell the story, Devin himself whipped out an arrow and brought the general down off his horse.

As the foot soldiers made a rapid retreat to the east, the forest people were determined to keep other invaders out. They would not allow them to retreat to their ships. The next wave of arrows had been dipped in poison and the wounds that may have otherwise survived were now deadly.

A few soldiers ran north, knowing that the line of attack stretched for miles back towards the coast they had just conquered. The forest people knew that many of them would die without aid unless they were lucky. They also knew that they would have to hide for their greatest fear was being caught some day as deserters of a Roman legion.

Chapter Twenty

Another Miserable Victory

The battle was over by sunset and no soldiers were able to return to their ships. The few on board who had witnessed the attack on the final survivors quickly set sail for home. The mess from this battle was not as bad as the previous invasion. All the dead bodies were thrown into trenches and set on fire. The forest people protected the area to make sure embers didn't fly off towards the trees. It was over in two days, and this time the soldiers and archers were the only ones who witness much of the devastation.

Devin was glad for this. He would have been happy to control the continuous education of the bands and guard their language and practices, and not have to engage in killing enemies. Still the responsibilities added a very clear personal burden to his spirit and at the same time enhanced his self-confidence. That in turn, heightened his persona in front of others---and boosted his opinion of himself---and to be perfectly frank, his conceit. He knew this. He had to pray to keep his sense of superiority contained. It was almost a daily struggle---and especially with his relationship with Máire. As he gained confidence, he occasionally resented her original attitude toward him. He couldn't understand how a smart woman like her could have chosen a man with such obvious predatory instincts.

He knew Máire's occasional snubbing had a lot to do with Fitzhugh's appearance and experience. He assumed that she still mourned for the man for some odd reason---something---he nor his tutor ever had any experience with and found incredulous. Devin often imagined the man's bravado and assumed he probably seduced women at every port. He was obviously full of swagger and gusto, and may have had moments of charm. Still he and his tutor had found him especially deceptive from the beginning and Máire never explained herself.

When Máire had rejected him, he had lost any sense of self-confidence for years. He was introverted and as a consequence lonely. At the same time, Máire's ambitions in life were often at odds with his responsibilities. He had to preach and cajole to keep her on track with the goals of the forest people. He understood her natural inclinations to be self-minded. After all, she had been deceived by someone she loved. She had to fight off thieves and liars just to survive and eat. She felt contempt for many of the men who were too lazy to work as she did---a woman of insatiable desires to produce worldly goods and improve their personal prosperity. So for all the dormant passions he had maintained for years, Máire's sustaining disinterest in him as a husband caused him continuous resentment.

While Devin had dismissed the cries of his band to take an additional wife, for there were no rules that said he couldn't, he was hesitant. He was very much afraid he would make the same mistake again and instead of improving the happiness of his home, would just add conflict and dissension. When he was lucky enough to gain the allegiance of Geneviève, he wondered if she would find him attractive. At this point in his life, he truly found himself willing to do anything he could to improve his appearance, eloquence, and charitable acts. These changes did not go unnoticed by Máire and seemed to irritate her even more.

Of the four abandoned children brought home from the coast, only Geneviève's little sister was taken into Devin's ring. But Máire noticed that two of the young boys looked extremely familiar. One day when they were out by the pond fishing, she asked them to join them for dinner. As Máire brought the food to the table that evening, she finally saw them up close, and could not take her eyes of the two young men who were thought to be foreign.

"What are your names?" she asked in the accent used by her ex-husband. Geneviève and Devin hardly understood what she was saying.

"Jake," said the oldest and the second followed with Jack. Then she knew. These young boys were the offspring of Fitzhugh---the twins he had longed for since she had married him. She was immediately suspicious of their character.

"Who were your parents?" she asked.

"We don't know," Jack replied looking as if he had gone blind.

"Our mother was a mere seamstress in the village. She said our father was a seaman and could be gone to places like China or India for years at a time. She was very clear about the fact that we shouldn't expect to ever see him," said Jake.

Jack started crying.

"We really don't know anything about him except he ran away with our mother's only means of support---a beautiful loom that she used to make cloth. We were only four at the time, but she died soon after. She couldn't stand being too desperate to even feed us, said Jack.

"We are eight now," said Jake.

Devin's eyes turned to Máire. He could see only horror in them. Now he understood her hate and the struggles she had managing it.

"So you never met this seaman?" asked Devin.

"No. But we heard about him. They say he was a very large man who carried an exquisite sword and lots of knives and that he had very light hair. That is all we ever heard and it was from our cousins who lived close by."

"Until they were killed by the invaders," said Jack, who at this point started crying relentlessly. "One of our neighbors said that he was with the Romans---that they saw him riding next to their leader and watched people in our village be massacred."

Jake finally had the courage to tell the rest of the story. "We didn't want to tell you because if it was true, then the man who was our father had our mother murdered along with all our relatives and friends. We think that he knew who we were and made sure we weren't killed, but we don't understand why. He was a traitor."

"Everyone should be off to sleep now," said Geneviève, very anxious to keep her young sister from the conversation.

"Yes," said Devin.

Máire could read the look of Devin's face as he pondered his most recent success.

"You are thinking about something? You have the look of revenge in your eyes. I know it. I have seen it myself in my own reflection for many years."

"I was thinking about my life and the things that have happened to so many people I loved. If I had not seen you at the Maypole that one day, we would have never met. And if I had not spoken to Maura Kea I would have never known another woman would come into my life, for she was prophesized."

At this Máire seemed somewhat shocked.

"Yes, Maura Kea told me she would return . . . she would come and be one to nourish me where you could not. I did not know the importance of it, at the time, thinking only that Geneviève might be the priestess reincarnated. She is, of course, the same soul. But she had a different purpose and that is only to give and receive love. That is why she returned to me in a new body and that is why she is not a priestess. You see, if she had been born back to the same path, she still could not leave her duties for personal fulfillment. She could not have come to me.

I think I learned a lot about our beliefs, but it is hard to explain. We have always imagined that the same person that lived once would be reincarnated and come back after several generations, but now I do not think such is so. Only the soul returns, and with it is its primary purpose in life. In our case, Geneviève's only purpose was to love me---not to return as a priestess."

Máire bent her head down. "I understand things now that I would have never understood before. If you hadn't gone away looking for the priestess for so long, I wouldn't have been jealous, and then Rosemáire would not have been conceived. It was all part of God's plan to provide our people with another great leader with compassion and wisdom---the kind of divine soul neither I nor Geneviève possess.

You see, while I knew that Rosemáire was a product of incredible jealousy, I never realized how important her life would be until very recently---when she was wise enough to help me put my pain behind me and forget my anger. Still, I did because I wanted to emulate you. You see you lied to me when you said you weren't holy. No other person has shown the evidence of spiritual guidance---no one is like you. Now I wonder, if you might have something less wise brewing inside of you?"

"Not to worry. I believe my reason for existence at this time is to protect my people and our forests."

This he said instead of the truth, for in his mind, to rid the world of Fitzhugh would protect the people from invaders for many more decades.

The next morning Devin was gone. The only person he told he was leaving was Rosemáire. And he only told her that she would find instructions in their private temple. She did not know why she had to take over as the Umhal Oíde when her father had not yet died, but she was willing if he said it was vital to the safety of the bands.

Epilogue

Devin had never once in his whole life disobeyed the laws handed to him as a Druid. But in the quiet of his temple, he had never felt more depressed, abandoned, and angry. First, he was going to hunt down Fitzhugh until he found him, and kill the man who had ruined so many lives. If he had to be judged for being a murderer, then he may as well be one in his own eyes.

If by chance he was the one to survive their encounter, he would return to the two women who lived close to the sea and see that they survived their old age in peace. He would finally experience requited love. He would return to his joy.

Other books by this Author:

The Secrets of Nine Irish Sons I The Beginning

The Secrets of Nine Irish Sons II The Rose Oisín

The Secrets of Nine Irish Sons III The Forces of Stones

The Novella Series

Before the Nine Irish Sons \- A Compendium

The Italian-Pearl-Irish & The Irish Peasant

Brigid's Dilemma

The Druid King Devin Elean McKaeraer

Children's Books

The Challenger Intermediate School Series

Eleanor's Happiness

Gorgeous George

Joe's Hidden Treasure

The Misfit Wins

Novels

Missing at the Sandy Hook Lighthouse

Joe O'Malley

Kevin O'Malley & the Oxford-Connection

The Misjudged Romantic – Patrick O'Malley

The Irish Suspect A Dan Delaney Mystery

The Dirty Dubliner A Dan Delaney Mystery

The American-Murders A Dan Delaney Mystery

The Famished Irishman - a Story by a Dingle Bed

...More from this author

If you enjoyed this story you may be interested in purchasing one of my books. Go to your favorite online book vender and search "Laura Joyce Moriarty."

More about this author

Laura Joyce Moriarty studied Political Science at Emory University and went on for a Master's Degree at the University of Georgia. Later she worked at Emory for 17 years in Information Technology.

During her tenure, she spoke and wrote extensively on Information Technology topics and was the chief editor of a scholarly journal on how IT could be integrated into learning and teaching programs, and one that won many national awards.

While Laura was a student at Emory, she attended "The Univ" i.e., University College of the Oxford Universities in England. While there she met Seamus Heaney where they enjoyed a Hardy Pilgrimage and read poetry at Stinsford Church in Dorchester. While it was a couple of decades before she could dive into Irish Literature and write her own versions of Irish stories, it was the time that inspired her to someday learn what Heaney called, a preference to "dig with a pen."

Send your comments and suggestions to:

Fourrosesandbrownpublishing@mail.com

If you're a published author, and would like to have one of your own short story "Sample" content prepared digitally and e-mailed to you in .pdf format, you must first request a digital copy of the The Author's Sampler Requirements via e-mail. If approved it will be included in one of The Author's Sampler: A Commuter's Short Story Magazine

Each author may contribute one or many stories, or another sample of writing in their own series in the Magazine ".

The cost is $25.00 with your content via PayPal or check/snail mail to:  
Laura Moriarty  
1001 Starkey Road #774  
Largo, Fl. 33771

  1. You must include a valid e-mail address.

  2. You must include a self-addressed envelope  
to return your check if the manuscript fails to meet our criteria.

READERS

If you would like to receive an e-mail notice of new stories or printed copies in snail mail, please e-mail. Price is $1.00 for each publication plus, $1.00 for postage and envelope.

PayPal e-mail: Fourrosesandbrownpublishing@gmail.com

PREVIEW TO BRIGID'S DILEMMA

Part I

He was under the stairs in the crawl space where his mother stored her few pieces of good china, and where he hid his catcher's mitt. It was the envy of many of the boys, so he kept it buried under sheets of newspaper when he wasn't using it. He wouldn't even let his younger brother play with it.

He wasn't really afraid that it would get stolen---only that it could be lost, or forgotten and picked up by a stranger who might want to sell it in town. He had heard such stories----people selling things that had been bought in the States. He hid a few other items in the same place, so every once in a while felt the urge to check up on his stash to make sure everything was in order.

Today, he had overheard that his uncle was coming over to visit. It was thrilling news. He loved his Uncle Tom and looked forward to playing baseball with him. He'd been lost in thought daydreaming about the fun he would have when he realized the house had filled up with chatter.

Usually, one or two of his aunts would stop over in the morning, but from the noise, all of them must have come. They were congregating at the kitchen table right across the room from the staircase. When he looked through the crack of the little door right before he was about to exit, he saw at least a half-dozen pairs of aging ankles sitting around the table and the thought of being found hiding frightened him. The aunt's morning get-together never lasted that long---in and out after a cup of tea or coffee and a rehash of the neighborhood news. So he decided to give his few baseball cards some attention and squished back down into the crawl space. Suddenly, he heard his aunt's voices drop to whispers and he heard Brigid's name. He froze in place.

"I think there's more to this story than we've heard so far---maybe even murder," said Nellie.

"You're a bit of an alarmist," said Irene.

"Irene. I think you're right about Nellie's overreactions in most cases," said Polly with a ludicrous sense of authority. "But this time, I'm not sure. If there is nothing to this recent . . ." she had softened her voice to the point where it was so low that Michael couldn't hear what she said.

"It may be just a rumor. Everyone's hyperventilating because Rosemary's dead. She could have died from any number of things. In fact, I used to wonder why she hadn't died sooner. She looked like death warmed over and recently like she could hardly breathe. No one can take all those beatings and not show the affect," she whispered as the thought of Rosemary made her choke up. "Still, we have to wait until we hear the truth," said Michael's mother.

"I've lived here all my life and I've never heard a rumor that didn't turn out to be true," said Nellie, "even idiotic ones. The problem is that this time it's serious."

"Yes this is serious. What we have been told so far is that the police think a woman committed suicide, so we are all guilty of neglecting her cries for help," said Kate.

"Or was murdered," said Polly once again sounding terrified and way too loud.

"But she didn't cry for help. She never reported a thing on him. We surely did our share of calling the Bobby on her behalf," said Sheila. "Strange things have always gone on in that house, but we can't jump to conclusions. The most important thing we can do is see that Brigid is safe---just in case that man . . . " again Michael couldn't hear.

She's always the most level-headed one, thought Michael as he was almost holding his breath so he wouldn't be heard. He was so stiff now that he was afraid of getting cramps in his legs.

"Strange in what way?" asked Mary in her quietest voice, but completely unaware that her son was just a few feet away from her hiding behind the white plywood door that her husband had hung to cover the crawl space.

"I'll tell you what's strange. It's strange that so many police have been questioning so many of us. After all, what happened shouldn't be any surprise to them," said Sheila.

"That's absolutely right," said Irene. "We called the police on that man enough times. They were more than well informed about the situation over there. I can't figure out why they are bothering us. It's so stressful."

"You have to be polite and remain calm. They're suspicious of everyone now. Don't over react to their questions. It's their responsibility to figure out what went on without inferring this or that nonsense," said Mary.

"What are you talking about? You're not in charge of the neighborhood or even this family," said Nellie. "We have every right to infer whatever we want."

"Well she should be in charge. Your busybody habits have gotten us in enough hot water before," said Polly with a sneer.

"I resent that---the police wouldn't have even come around if it wasn't for me."

"That's the truth Nellie . . . and if you hadn't carried on and on about Polly's husband, he might not have lost his job. Employers hate it when someone in their business is accused of something---even if it's discovered to be untrue," said Irene. "What goes on in other people's homes is not your business unless someone is breaking the law---or asks for your help. You overstep and we all suffer."

"Then why are we here?" asked Polly. "I'm not defending gossip, but I can't understand why you feel the need to even discuss this if we aren't going to do something."

Mary was chagrined. "We are here because a young girl still lives over there with a drunk and no longer has her mother to protect her. We must look out for her. I can't imagine how terrified she must be. Who knows what she's feeling---the poor thing---losing a mother that was beaten to death by her father."

"An assumption is what you inferred," said Nellie. "But that still doesn't explain what we should do."

"You're right. I think we should keep an eye on her---just make sure she looks like she is doing all right without asking nosy questions," Mary said hoping that they would all understand and be reasonable.

"With Brigid, it's hard to say how she might be doing. She's extremely shy and quiet. If she's suffering, God knows we won't get it out of her," said Kate.

"Mary, you're friends with the principal over at St. Agnes. Why don't you stop over and ask her to report to you? We can make sure we keep Brigid busy---away from the house as much as possible," said Irene. "I don't think we'll have much to say about what goes on in that house. Donald is probably going to rely on her to take over all of Rosemary's chores."

"He's a lazy pig---that one is. He's not working and has been drinking up a storm lately. There's no reason why a fifteen year old should have to take care of a grown man who's not working. We can step in on her behalf where that one's concerned," said Nellie.

"I think you're right. Normally, I'd be opposed to getting involved, but this time I'm worried," said Mary.

When Michael heard that, he became nervous and upset over Brigid's plight. He wanted to kill Donald O'Connor.

"I think we can meddle with a clear conscience Nellie. In fact, you might be the perfect person to intervene first."

"I'll make a casserole and take it over at suppertime. I'll tell her she's welcomed to come stay with me," said Nellie.

"Or stay with any one of us," said Irene.

"If I see Brigid on the way home, I'll stop her and tell her that you're bringing over a meal and that I'll be checking on her at nine this evening to make sure she's OK. We know Donald will be off at the pub."

"Tell her to keep her bedroom door locked at night. She's so beautiful. She reminds me of white orchids. Her skin is so white and velvety and her black hair so luscious and curly. With a drunk in the house, who knows what he might do?" offered Kate. "We must be very careful with our examination of the situation for her. She may have to be taken away from him."

"And that if we hear that bastard, we'll be calling the police. She won't have to worry about his temper if she feels she can trust one of us."

"I can't imagine her ever feeling safe. I've never noticed her feeling comfortable around anyone---even the sisters at school. She's a very quiet and mysterious girl---"

"But I don't think she's paranoid or anything like that . . ."

They all looked at each other wondering what the hell Nellie was talking about. How could a fifteen year old be paranoid?

"I just want to reiterate how important it is for us to stay out of the investigation. We are not being paid to solve unexplained deaths," said Mary.

"I still think that's your opinion and to keep it to yourself. As far as I'm concerned, the police don't know what they're doing. If they did they would have done something about him a long time ago."

"I think that's a little presumptuous. What could they have done?"

"I suppose I could have thought of a few things---drunk and disorderly---wife abuse---foul language on the street . . ." said Kate with a smirk.

"You're dreaming. When was the last time a man got arrested for being drunk and disorderly, using foul language, and wife abuse? Half of Dublin would be in jail."

They all grinned and made a few more smart remarks, but then they really lowered their voices. Michael really wanted to hear, but it was impossible. For some reason they were all whispering. Michael's right leg and arm were both falling asleep and he was beginning to feel pins and needles.

Since he always seemed to miss the good stuff, he just started praying that they'd leave when finally he heard one of the floor boards creak as someone went out the front door. He waited another few minutes and peeked again. His Aunt Irene and his mother were still sitting at the table with their heads together.

"Do you have any idea why the police asked me about him? "

"None. But I was very clear. He's been at home in Pennsylvania for the past six months and won't be here again until next month. But they also asked about Pearce. Everyone knows he's harmless and couldn't have been involved in anything that looked violent."

"Probably because they have his name from the time Nellie reported him for stealing her broach," said Mary.

"I wish she understood consequences. First she jumps to conclusions and instead of asking advice, she goes off and gets hysterical over at the police station. It's taken years for him to recover from the accusations. I'm sure he became paranoid with all the gossip. It's too bad because every time one person in the family suffers a setback the rest of us are parboiled in the same pot," said Irene. "It's hard to forgive her over such nonsense. The police may have been confused---they may have thought he was involved in some altercation as well."

Michael was about to try and make it out the door when he heard the ice man's truck bells ringing. He was never so relieved. Both his mother and Irene headed out the front door to check on their orders and Michael escaped. He raced through the kitchen and out the back door.

He ran far too long, and couldn't think where to go, so went into the church so he could sit down and rest. Once inside he thought about going to confession. He felt like he needed to on one hand, but on the other wasn't in the mood. He kept thinking about Brigid and how beautiful she was---one of her aunt's had said like a white orchid. And then, now possibly being abused by a drunken father.

He never knew that women saw beauty in other women. He never noticed if a man was handsome or not. He sat in one of the pews trying to catch his breath and recoup after running for nearly a mile. Then he saw Fr. Kenny and felt like fainting. He was about to duck or race out, but it was too late. The priest was coming down the aisle at a brisk speed.

"Michael . . . you look ill. Are you feeling sick?"

"I'm just a little overheated. I was running and only needed a rest . . ."

"Why were you running?"

"I don't know," he lied. "I was just in the mood."

"Are you afraid of something? You're white as a ghost."

"No---I'm fine. I just feel a little . . ."

At that Michael keeled over and hit his head on the pew in front of him. Fr. Kenny ran for the smelling salts he kept back in the sacristy. They were kept in his pocket early in the morning when more than a few undernourished pupils hit the cement during Mass. But by midday, most had eaten something and he had put them away.

The priest laid him across the pew and brought him to in a matter of seconds.

"I was so hot and now I feel like I have the chills," he said.

"I'm going to walk part of the way home with you."

"Please no Father. I'll be fine. I'm feeling good again already."

"If you promise to go right home. I'll be asking about you on Sunday."

Michael was mortified. The last thing he wanted was the priest checking up on him like he was a little kid. All he could think about was Brigid. They had been friends since he was four and she five, and he believed he knew her better than anyone. The problem was he never once heard about any problems in her family—she never complained. She never talked about her mother or father and he never thought her unhappy---or abused. He passed the general store and went in for a piece of hard candy. The grocer grabbed him by the arm as soon as he got inside and dragged him to the back room.

"What happened to Brigid?"

"Nothing happened to her. Her mother died."

"How'd she die?"

"How would I know?" answered Michael.

"Cause the women in that house of yours know everything."

"Well, they don't know anything and neither do I. What do you care anyway? It's none of your business."

"It's my business if I don't get paid. They have an outstanding bill and I can't find the old man or Brigid. And now the mother is dead."

"I'm sure you'll get paid O'Neill. How much do they owe anyway?"

"A half pound."

At that Michael grabbed the man's arm off of him and twisted it.

"Then don't send flowers! I'll be sending Tom Moran over after you----asshole!"

At that Michael beat it out of the grocer's and ran for Brigid's home. The flat was dark from every window and no one answered his knocks. He wondered what happened to Donald. He should be home sleeping off his drink.

Michael started for home. He was ready to talk to his mother. He was really feeling sick and was sure it was due to the worry he had felt this morning.

He charged into the front room and ran into the kitchen nearly knocking over his Aunt Irene who was just leaving.

"What's the matter Michael?" asked his mother.

He suddenly had second thoughts about saying anything. He might say the wrong thing and they would know he was eavesdropping.

"Nothing. I just forgot my mitt. By the way, when's Uncle Tom coming? I can't wait."

"In a few days," answered Mary glad that it wasn't a question about the O'Connors....

