Late Gearran, 300 years post-founding.
“Blasted Ifrinn,” the man said as he stopped for the fourth time in twenty minutes. “I wish this snow would stop falling.” He was just a shade under six feet tall, and the snow was dusting the ankle-length black leather duster, making it appear to be spotted. A frown crossed his face as he removed his black hat and attempted to knock the snow from the four-inch brim.
His companion, who was a head taller than him, didn’t make a sound as he peered into the snowy distance. His red eyes matched his wild red hair, but that only fitting since he was known as Aodh, the taghta of Huitzilopochtli. It wasn’t that he wasn’t passionate. It was just that his passion was war and hunting. If it weren’t for his companion, he would not take time off to relax or mend his equipment. “It doesn’t usually snow this far south. Do we know what caused it?”
His companion put his hat back on and glanced at Aodh with his one gold-flecked hazel eye. “There’s only one goddess that affects the weather all over the world. Offhand, I’d say that Mathair Astinmah did something.”
The two were out in the deep snow, attempting to track whoever had disrupted communications between Nan Diathan and their followers. So far, they had encountered nothing.
“If this doesn’t let up, we’ll have to stop early,” Aodh muttered. When his companion looked shocked, he grumbled. “Don’t look at me that way, Rennar. Even I don’t like slogging through snow.” He set his eyes on a copse of trees a couple of miles away. “What would drive Astinmah to mess up the weather like this?” He quirked a brow. “Do you think the Feathered Serpent knows why she did it?”
Rennar shrugged his shoulders. “If he does, he hasn’t told me why.” He glanced at the tall warrior. “What did you feel when it all got cut off?” He was, of course, talking about the bonds that Taghta shared with their patron gods.
The flame-haired warrior deliberately stopped and thought it over. It wasn’t because he was slow; it was because he was a deliberate thinker. He had always taken his time thinking things over. “It was strange.” He knew that didn’t explain it at all, so he elaborated. “I couldn’t talk to him; I couldn’t hear him or his war drums. It was as if, for that length of time, he didn’t exist.” His eyes dimmed slightly, revealing that the red wasn’t his natural eye color but was a light-enhancing spell. “How did it feel for you?”
Rennar took a deep breath and blew it out, the warm air forming a wreath around his head. “I have never, in my four thousand years, felt anything like that.” His connection to Quetzalcoatl was about as deep a bond between a god and a person could get. He knew what his god thought, knew what he wanted, and knew the depths he’d go to in order to keep from being banished back into the outer dark again. “It was as if he had never existed.” He reached down and drew a feathered snake. “It must be what disbelievers feel, all alone and disconnected.
The disciple of conflict smirked. “I’ll bet it had something to do with Mac Draoidheacd.” He was referring to the man that Astinmah called her son. Whether or not he was, all the taghta called him one of them.
Rennar’s one eye rolled upwards. “Aodh, you were there when he questioned that Ogren. Don’t you remember?” He examined his friend closely. He had heard that the cold affected people’s brains, making them want to sleep.
Aodh blinked, “You’re right.” He looked at the oldest taghta. “Don’t give me that look. I’ve slept and been drunk since then.” He grinned, “Unlike you, I don’t store everything away for future reference.” He took a step forward, leaving a hole where he had stood. “Why isn’t Darkblade a Taghta? He’s powerful enough, and he’s certainly Mathair’s follower.”
Rennar followed his friend, thankful for the trail the big man had broken for him. “He doesn’t claim to be one. Until he does, he isn’t taghta. You know that.”
Being Taghta nan Diathan meant following the teachings of their patron god, knowing their beliefs back and forth, and being devout to that god. He scratched his chin as he thought about the man Astinmah called her son. “Darkblade indeed knows Mathair better than most, but he’s not truly devout in teaching her ways. In fact, he has been adamant about some of the scripture being wrong.” Scripture was always man’s interpretation of the teaching of the gods. “Since Astinmah won’t refute her sagartachd, anything Mac Draoidheacd says would be considered apostasy.”
Aodh grunted, “He loves her in his way, and she doesn’t act as if it offends her.” He moved forward, breaking more of that trail for his friend. He looked thoughtful. “I had forgotten how beautiful Lady Astinmah is, even when she’s just using a dryad as an avatar.”
Rennar moved to walk beside the big warrior, proving that he didn’t need the trail as he appeared to walk above the snow, not leaving a sign of his passing. “What do you think Nan Diathan are doing right about now?”
“If I were them, I’d be searching for whatever caused the disruption,” Aodh stated, pausing to take another look at that copse of trees. “Is it just me, or does that copse seem to be further away?”
Rennar chuckled, “Only you would get us lost on the way to a campsite.” He peered at the copse of trees. “No, it doesn’t appear to have moved.”
The tall warrior looked skeptical. “Then something is weird. Because we should have reached it already.” He stopped talking and started moving as if he were stalking an animal. At his side, Rennar arched a brow and moved in sync with the warrior.
After another half-hour, they made progress, and Aodh paused, sniffing the air. Glancing over to his companion, he tapped his nose and pointed at the trees. His signal was short and to the point. Someone was cooking something.
With a grin, Rennar gestured for Aodh to circle counterclockwise to the copse of trees while he would circle clockwise. Aodh nodded and started circling out toward where the smell of cooking food was coming from.
The closer they got, the more Aodh could swear he was smelling venison. When the two had finished scouting the area around the makeshift campsite, Aodh carefully crept close to the fire and filched one of the skewers, bringing it to within inches of his nose. “It is venison. Who do you think made the camp?”
At his question, cheeky laughter broke out, and a voice called out, “Leave it to a disciple of war to ask about who made this camp.” The voice seemed to come from a shrouded man leaning against one of the trees.
Aodh recognized the voice and grumbled. “Why be ye hiding under a snowman, Lucifern?” He took a bite of the venison and snacked his lips in appreciation. “How did you find a deer? We haven’t seen anything since we started our quest.”
The young man, or at least the person who appeared to be a young man, stepped out from behind the snowman. His brown eyes twinkled in mirth. “I would be a poor first ranger if I couldn’t find meat during a storm.” He reached up and swept back the hood of his cloak, revealing his brown hair and sun-browned face. “This poor doe was about to freeze to death, so I spared her that death. She offers herself to your nourishment, oh great fire-haired warrior.” He took a step back when Aodh growled but then stopped and offered Rennar a half-bow. “The Great Dreamer sent me out to find you.” He said, using another name for Mixcoatl. “Astinmah has upset the balance of the world. If we try to fix it, it will take all of us.”
Rennar shook his head. “Quetzalcoatl is of a mind to let it alone. He doesn’t think it’s wise to continue to mess up the weather.”
Aodh nodded, though he didn’t stop eating. “Yah, same with Huitzilopochtli.” He nodded in Lucifern’s direction. “Thank you for the food.”
The first ranger blinked. “So we do nothing?” That didn’t sit right with his senses being tied to the forest and land.
“Unless Nan Diathan changes their minds, we do nothing,” Rennar stated.
If you liked what you read, please consider buying
For more adventures in Crann Na Beatha, please consider buying
If you wish, you can also buy me a
Joseph- I had just learned about Quetzalcoatl. So when you mentioned that he “is of a mind to let it alone. He doesn’t think it’s wise to continue to mess up the weather,” I can resonate. I do like his legend very much. And your piece here made it so much deeeper.