PROLOGUE
Ynys Mona - Spring 40 AD
Shadow walls cut through the forest with thick curtains of impenetrable darkness
and brief flashes of silvered moonlight in an unnatural tapestry without pattern
or symmetry. Odd and unpredictable the pockets of night distorted paths and
misdirected the unwary, transforming the normally peaceful woods of the Druid's
grove into a sinister and menacing night maze, where the initiated moved freely
yet the correct twists and turns were hidden from those who did not belong in
its sacred fastness. Few would dare the groves on a night like this one. A night
when the realms of man and spirits came so close that the barriers separating
them thinned to the point of nothingness. And of those few, brave or foolish
souls who tried, only those who knew the magic of the groves would be safe from
being lost forever in the gray mists of the borderlands.
Yet in open challenge of the night and the magic of the grove a young girl,
still young enough to be playing with dolls, strode purposefully beneath the
spreading branches of the oak trees and entered the woods. Her eyes, already
accustomed to the darkness, quickly found the distinctive robed outlines of
the two guides who had come to meet her. Without hesitation or fear she fell
into step between the silent pair, as they turned and began making their way
deeper into the holy grove. Only the soft brushing sound of overlong robes against
the ground betrayed the presence of the trio as they moved unerringly along
the trail, brushing aside the shadow walls as if they were no more than thinly
woven cloth. With mute detachment the guides ignored the greedy coiling shadows
that reached out to lap against them. Nor did they show any sign of surprise
or even acknowledge the fact that the darkness seemed to part around the girl
they flanked, leaving her untouched and bathed in moonlight. Not even the girl
seemed to realize that the ebon night, and its shadow servants, respected her
right to be there and honored her in their own secretive way.
Naively unaware of the stir she was causing amongst the ancient tribes of the
forest, the child extended her senses to relish the night's magic. She could
feel the beings in the woods around her, horned and winged, furred, feathered,
and scaled, yet she felt no fear. She was a child of the land just as they were.
And her spirit was as ancient as theirs even though her mortal body numbered
only ten winters. This she knew with the clarity of an elder and the joyful
abandon of a child. The ancient folk, from both sides of the veil, belonged
here it was their home and their sanctuary.
And it was by their leave that she was welcomed here in the domain of Ardwinna,
the Lady of the Forest. Where Artio's children, bear and boar, snuffled contentedly
among the foliage. A night shrouded garden where Sith, willowy and fragile as
branches bending in the wind, with hair tinted like leaves and skin dark as
boiled oak bark, peaked out of their trees to watch the trio pass by. A maze
of tangled brambles and majestic trees, where red glinting eyes watched the
girl through the undergrowth, following, spying, but meaning no harm. While
the ever-mischievous wee folk giggled and whispered among themselves in a language
that sounded malicious to most human ears, but posed no threat to the child
and her escorts.
As a gracious guest in Ardwinna & Artio's people's home she stepped softly,
walking with the earth instead of against it. So light was her step that no
twig snapped beneath her foot, no root snagged her, no branch rustled at her
passage. Aware as she was of the sounds of life around her she was made faintly
uncomfortable by the sounds her guides made as they led her along the winding
footpath. The sounds of their heavy footfalls and rough breath were out of place
in this sanctuary. Having been born with the ability to instinctively know the
laws and customs that were observed in the wilds she moved as silently as fox
kit she could never understand those who did not. It was an inborn gift she
had never questioned, nor would she think to question it now.
Despite her gift and her feeling of union with the woods around her she remained
naively proud of her new white linen robe. With great care she lifted it in
her pudgy childish hands to avoid it becoming dirty or snagged. Made especially
for her by the last Lady of the Land it was beautifully embroidered in bright
vivid colors with all the symbols of the elements and the seasons. Her mentor's
final parting gift it was a treasure without measure, a legacy she would pass
on to her heir when her time came to travel on to the Summerland. With fierce
determination the girl resolved that no matter how enraptured she became with
night and its events she would save a corner of her mind to tend to the robe's
safety.
The girl walked with her robe hiked almost to her knees and her head slightly
cocked listening to the sound of the forest's denizens, as they rustled throughout
the woods. She had always been fascinated by the comings and goings of the ancient
races. Kine's her mentor had called them. Tribes of beings who were not human,
and did not follow the ways of the clans, but were alternately feared or worshipped
by the clans since they had first come to the island. She knew that many folk
could not discern which of the Kine were friendly to the clans and which were
not and so they feared them all. But she had been instructed well and knew the
difference. And she knew that even now, with the realms rubbing hard against
each other, only the Tribes who were at peace with the clans roamed the woods
around her. Some of the hidden folk, it seemed, had even taken it upon themselves
to protectively pace the trio, charming her with their reassuring presence.
As they walked the girl innocently opened her arms wide sending forth feelings
of love and joy to all the denizens of the forest. Sharing the truth of herself
with them all, in return for the gift of welcoming beauty they had given her.
She breathed deeply and inhaled the fresh scent of spring that permeated the
cool air with the promise of life and new beginnings, letting it fill her with
its clean vitality. The year, like her, was in its first flush of youth. Together
they would grow, though her seasons were longer, sharing the cycle of birth,
death and rebirth.
Ahead of her the child caught sight of flickering lights, liming the trees with
their warm welcoming glow, and was like a moth drawn to flame. In childlike
enthusiasm she attempted to trot ahead, only to be gently reproved and restrained
by her escorts, who shook their cowled heads but made no sound. Admonished she
fell back to their more dignified pace and continued on the winding deer trail,
now finally clear of all shadow walls. Slowly they rounded a last abrupt turn
in the path and came upon the open glade where she had spent so many happy days
relearning the ancient wit. Tonight, however, it had taken on a phantom quality
in the darkness despite the brightly shining moon and the torches that ringed
the clearing.
Druids circled the area in their long robes; cowls drawn long over their heads;
faces hidden in the shadows. As she looked nervously around, the girl realized
that she could recognize no one, masked as they were by the night. No symbol
or decoration adorned or identified them; well-known teachers and friends had
become foreboding strangers. The girl's silent guides briskly escorted her to
the center of the clearing before turning away to join their brethren. She was
left alone, on display, before the stern figures in their white judging robes.
Nervously biting her lip, she clasped her hands in front of her to still their
shaking. Then with deliberate determination she threw back her shoulders and
stood tall and proud before the council of Druids, taking on her deeply ingrained
student stance. She had been told there were tests to be passed but not what
they were, nor how they were to be done. But she would not fear them or the
outcome of this important trial.
"Who are you?" a deep voice rang out.
"I am Boudicca, " she replied calmly, despite her inner trembling.
"Who are your parents?" a different Druid asked.
"My mother was Gwenhwyvar of the old folk in the Westlands who died at
my birth. My father is Arch-Druid Maelan. My foster mother and mentor was Rhiannon
Lady of the Land…"
"You quote titles. Do the titles of your fore-bearers make you proud?"
one of the shrouded Druids interrupted.
"One should always have pride in one's family, no matter how high or how
low they stand…" Boudicca replied evenly.
"Do you know why you are here?" another voice queried, cutting off
her explanation.
"The Lady of the Land had gone to Annwn and I have been chosen to take
her place in this world," she replied without turning her head to face
the questioner. The questions were coming from different places around the circle
and if she turned to face each of them she would have quickly become dizzy.
"Who has chosen you?" another nameless Druid asked.
"The Lady of the Land told me I was born to it. So it must be the Gods
and Goddesses and the Land who have chosen me," Boudicca answered without
the slightest sense of pride or humility.
"Do you think this makes you important?" someone behind her challenged.
"I think it is a great responsibility, and a great joy. My only importance
will come from living well and fulfilling my destiny just like everyone else,"
she replied matter-of-factly.
The questions kept coming, one by one without pause, each from a different Druid,
but all in the same low emotionless monotone, "Do you think a child should
bear this burden?"
"We are all children of the land and we all have our burdens to bear."
The Druids went on, testing her knowledge, her wit, so carefully pulled from
her past lives and memorized at the knee of her father and the Lady. She recited
the names of the Gods the Goddesses and their dominions; the ranking of the
trees; the knowledge of plants, their identification, uses and preparations.
The Druids questioned her knowledge of the sky, the names of the constellations
and how to know the festival dates. Her memory was stretched to its limits as
she recounted the types and names of the denizens of the land and their histories:
human, animal, and the ancient ones. On and on the questions ran. Her limbs
grew weary and she began shifting side to side to relieve her feet, which had
fallen asleep. But the questions kept coming, lulling her into a trance-like
state, until she answered by rote without pause or consideration. So that when
they asked her to tap into the power of the earth she did so automatically,
without thought or hesitation.
In an eruption of power the land filled her with the bright green of springtime
leaves, the warm red of passion and life, and the blinding gold of the summer
sun. Unable to contain it all within her mortal body the surging force of the
land exploded out of her every pore, bursting up into the sky and out to fill
the clearing with its vitality. Vibrant light cascaded around her in a fountain
of dancing color, flooding the glade with its brilliant illumination. No longer
wholly in the realm of men, she felt a warm welcoming presence envelope and
embrace her. She became the light. She became the mother and the child, the
nurturer and the nurtured.
"Who are you" came the last question.
"I am the land. I am the people. I am all that swims and flies. I am all
that walks and slithers. I am life. I am the Green Lady," her voice was
no longer that of a child, but as deep and resonate as thunder rolling through
the clearing with a life of its own.
Removed though she was she still felt the stone cup that was pressed to her
lips. Without hesitation she drank deeply of the ice-cold liquid fire, tasting
a forge's tempering heat and change. Her eyes closed in peace, she felt the
oneness with all life and floated weightless in it comforting embrace. She noticed
in a detached way her body being lifted and carried deeper into the grove, into
the sacred fastness of the Druid's sacred place, where no woman walked. Cold
rough stone pressed against her back, soaking through her thin linen shift,
then the physical realm was gone.
She stood in an endless verdant field woven with bright ribbons of flowers
from all seasons, blossoming together in an explosion of fragrance and color.
They wrapped around each other in ornate designs, like the patterns on her robe.
Then from across this field they came, the Gods and the Goddesses, approaching
her one by one.
Happy plump Cuda, with well-rounded limb, kissed her forehead and told her that
she would never be an orphan. That she would always be Cuda's daughter, a true
child of the earth.
Adsagsona pressed her lips against the girl's forehead with her kiss of cold
fire and otherworldly silence.
Artio, in her bear form, slurped her rough rasping tongue across Boudicca's
face, making the girl giggle.
Cernunnos, with his regal antler rack, laughed, "One day we will dance
you and I. But not till you grow up." He kissed her square on the mouth,
flooding her with tingly feelings she was too young to understand.
Andraste in her shining armor, sword bared, took her in a warm embrace, telling
her, "We will walk together one day, you and I."
Morrigau with her secretive smile and pale ice continence gazed at Boudicca
knowingly, without saying a word.
On and on they came, each with an affectionate acceptance of her, some with
special words just for her. Until once again she was alone in the beautiful
field. Looking around she saw the vision begin to ripple and fade, its purpose
completed. And like a comfortable robe the girl slipped back into her body and
rejoined the realm of the mortal world.
Upon opening her eyes Boudicca found herself back in her own home and in her
own bed. Had it all been a dream? She was facing the door which was slightly
ajar, allowing fresh air in, and through the open door she saw it was still
night. But a faint lightening of the sky, heralding the dawn, was beginning
to show revealing the lateness of the hour. With a barely perceptible motion
she turned to look into the main part of the room. Her father sat next to the
small fire burning in the hearth with a man she didn't know, though he wore
one of the Druid's white robes, it was no one she had ever seen before. Perhaps
he had been one of her judges, or someone from the mainland. Not wishing to
disturb them she tried to sit up but found that her belly was on fire, and swaddled
tightly, hampering her movements. Her startled squeak of surprise alerted her
father to her stirring. He quickly moved to her side to help her sit up, giving
her a sip of warm broth which washed away the funny taste in her mouth.
Shy in front of the stranger she chose not to mention her vision, at least not
right away. Even as she made the decision a voice whispered in her head that
the messages were only for her and too sacred to be shared with anyone, even
her Da. Without knowing how she knew, Boudicca knew that the voice belonged
to the man who sat at the hearth with her father. Yet when Boudicca peeked past
her father's shoulder with a surreptitious glance the stranger was gone. He
couldn't have slipped out without her noticing. Where had he gone? Had he been
no more than a spirit or a fetch? Was this another thing she was suppose to
keep secret? Secrets. Ever her mentor had been shrouded in secrets. Now it seemed
it she too would become the silent keeper of her own council, seeing and knowing
but saying nothing of what she knew.
"Why does my tummy hurt father? Did I cut myself?" Boudicca asked
confused and seeking reassurance in the mundane.
"No child it is the mark of the Earth Serpent. We put it there while you
were in the Otherworld. Don't worry it will heal quickly," her father replied
softly.
"Can I see it?" she asked, forgetting all else in her excitement.
It hadn't been a dream. It was all real!
Laughing indulgently her father carefully unwrapped the bandages so she could
see. Boudicca gazed down mesmerized by the beautiful and delicately detailed
blue coiling knotwork dragon that encircled her belly button.
"Father what does it mean?" she questioned, awed by its beauty.
"It means that you are now the Lady of the Land."