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Voyage of the Dawn Breaker - Chapter 1 Part 3

As the beast attempted to make its bargain, one of the Ciad-Ghin dryads started to change. She grew almost two feet taller, and her lightly tanned skin deepened to a deep chocolate brown. Her teenage-looking body slowly matured into a lush, ripe woman with medium-sized breasts, wide hips, and long black hair with streaks of gray. Her once brown eyes changed to a startling liquid green.

Her twin watched the transformation, her eyes wide in awe.  When the change was made, she fell to her knees before the older dryad, who winked at her. 

One by one, everyone around the clearing took note of the transformed woman, starting with the taghta nan diathan^[1], who sampled her prana and guessed her divinity, each sinking to one knee before the Mathair Coille's avatar.  Soon, everyone but the man and the Ogren were watching the goddess as she approached the center of the clearing.  She stopped a respectful distance from the two and patiently waited for the staff bearer to decide. 

Even though she was the caretaker of this world, she would abide by the choice of her chosen servants. 

The man watched the Ogren for a moment and then nodded.  “You have my word, Mathair Coille shall not deny either you or the Orcan rebirth.”

The beast sighed in relief.  “May I ask one more thing before I give the name?”  At the man's nod, the Ogren inquired, “May this one know the name of the one who proved stronger?”

Hazel eyes met Black.  “Rhyslin Darkblade.”

The Ogren drew a deep breath, “Heard of you, never thought to fight you.  The one you seek is Saldren halber Drache.”  The beast whispered even as it surrendered its last breath.

Rhyslin exhaled and turned to the brown-haired man and his woman.  “Marc, would you and Nat please bury him with honor?” When the ranger nodded, Rhyslin released the power that he had been holding, took two steps, and passed out.  He would have hit the ground if the goddess had not caught him on a cushion of air.  The staff that he had been holding teetered for a moment and then started to fall before it, too, was caught by the goddess.  Once in her hand, the staff hummed like a child singing to its mother.  The goddess listened and then replied in kind before turning and catching sight of the rest. 

Handing the unconscious man off to the younger dryad, she murmured.  “Take him to Allanagh's cottage and make him comfortable.”

When Flur heard that, her ears perked, and she rushed to the dryad's side. “I'll show you where to go.”

“Just a moment, child,” the goddess whispered as she brushed her fingertips across Rhyslin's forehead, easing the pain on his unconscious face.

“Thank you, my child,” she caressed Flur's right cheek, drawing a timid smile from the woman.

As Flur and the Dryad removed Rhyslin from the battlefield, the goddess looked at Renner and Aodh and said,  “Go tell Quetzalcoatl and Huitzilopochtli what happened here.”

The two taghta nan diathan nodded and vanished into the shadows as they followed her command. 

The goddess turned to the ranger and the Sealgair Aisling.  “Seann Mdadadh-Allaidh^[2], Neach Slanachaidh Bruadar^[3].”  She formally addressed Marcus and Natolie by their titles. “Gather your troops and move them inside the walls.  The Clann an-Coille^[4] will find some room in the barracks.”

The ranger bowed his head, “As you wish, Mathair.”  He gestured to one of the horned soldiers, who lifted a brass trumpet and blew three sharp notes. 

All around them, the black-garbed mercenaries gathered their kits and headed toward the sound of the horn.  When the soldiers were standing in a loose formation behind the ranger, the goddess gestured to Sloan and Allanagh's guard.  “These four will make sure that you get settled.”

When neither Sloan nor the queen's guard made a move, the goddess looked them over.  She saw the look of concern on Sloan's face and nodded in understanding.  “Zered Sloan, I need to speak to my daughter alone.  Will you entrust me to keep her safe?”

“Where her life is concerned, I trust very few, be the gods or men.” The soldier eyed the goddess as he took a half-step toward Allanagh, stopping only when she whispered.

“I'll be okay, Sloan.  Do as she asked.”

The soldier faced down the goddess, choosing to obey Allanagh.  “Yes, Mo Bhanrigh.”  Turning to the ranger, he examined him from head to foot.  His eyes fixed on the knotted red cord at the man's right shoulder, he offered a salute, placing his closed fist over his heart and extending it.  “First Spear?”

“Ranger Commander, actually,” The ranger chuckled.  “You can call me Marcus.”

Sloan blinked at the implied informality.  “Marcus … Ranger Commander.  If your men will follow us, we'll find space in the barracks for you.”

“Lead on, my friend,” the ranger commented as he followed Sloan.  Natolie started to follow him but stopped as the goddess lifted a hand.

“Natolie, would you stay a moment?” As the Sealgair Aisling lifted a brow, the goddess continued, “The five of us have something important to discuss,” she gestured to the two remaining taghta nan diathan.  “But first,” she turned and looked down at Allanagh, who was still on her knees at the goddesses' feet, her head down and her long silver hair falling over her face.  “Rise, mo nighean^[5].”

Allanagh looked up from the ground, her right hand moving up to tuck her silver hair behind her.  “Is what the Ogren said true?  That we would have been versklaven?”

The goddess reached down and rested her left hand on Allanagh's head.  “Yes, I think the war band was sent to attack this village and versklaven these people.”  Her head tilted to the left, and she watched Allanagh with her bright green eyes.  “Do you think that the soldiers of this village could have defended it, or you?”

“No,” Allanagh admitted with a shake of her head.  “The scouts did not indicate any Orcan within four leagues.  We wouldn't have known about them until they were at the wall.”  She paused and looked at the goddess.  “Did you know that they were going to attack?’”

The goddess shook her head. “Their intentions didn't disturb the balance. Their attack and your defense wouldn't have created an imbalance any more than them killing some of you while taking some of you as sklaves.”  She gazed down at the queen and read the thoughts roiling in her mind. “And no, I didn't send the mercenaries to help you. They came on their own.”

“Why would they do that?”  Allanagh inquired as she slowly rose to her feet.

“You would have to ask them,” the goddess replied as she handed the staff over to the queen, who couldn't help but look at it.  The staff was almost six feet long and made from some deep black wood with a black pearl on top of it.  Ten runes ran the length of the staff, and she blinked as she could have sworn that it was humming to her. 

“I would, except that their leader has been hustled off to my cottage by my daughter and is probably tucked safely in her bed.”  Allanagh sighed.

“Don't worry overly much,” the goddess stated.  “Will Mayana and Ilyriatri come here if you ask them?”

Allanagh shrugged, “Probably.” Gazing into the goddesses' eyes, she felt a tiny bit of peace return to her soul. “If I told them that Mathair Coille and two taghta nan diathan were here, they would be more inclined to travel.”

The goddess blinked once and looked toward the village.  “Then do so,” a tender smile crossed her lips.  “If you need help powering portals, I'll apportion some power for you.”

Allanagh followed the goddess's gaze and noticed the cryptic smile.  Oh Flur, what are you doing?

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^[1] Chosen (servants) of the gods

^[2] Old Wolf

^[3] Dream healer

^[4] Children of the Forest, the Ciad-Ghin, who live in the woods.

^[5] My daughter

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