Born of Oak and Silver (The Caradoc Chronicles) (10 page)

“
Upon the Earth exists items that were created by the Sidhe. Their origin makes them effective weapons against our enemy. There are two which can kill anything, mortal or seemingly immortal, when used by the hand of someone very skilled. One is known as the Sword of Light. At its blade, entire nations have been destroyed. The other is the Spear of Truth. You may have heard it called by other names: the ‘Spear of Destiny’ or perhaps, the ‘Lance of Longinus’.” He paused as he registered my disbelief.

“
Bram, do you mean to tell me that the spear that pierced the side of Christ as he hung on the cross was actually a Sidhe weapon?” I viewed him skeptically.

“Yes, the very same,” h
e confirmed easily. “There was also a slingshot. You will recall that it was favored by a young boy named David who used it to kill a giant, as is mentioned in the Bible. However, it is no longer relevant because David destroyed it when he recognized the amount of unearthly power it lent him. Exactly how he managed that, I have never been able to figure, I just know that he did.

“
These
airm a scrios
, Objects or Weapons of Destruction, are dangerous because they permit the bearer ultimate skill and prowess. A man will become nearly invincible as long as an Object is retained. In order for this to be possible, the weapon must have a carrier capable of drawing energy from the elements, as well as having an energy store of what I will loosely term ‘the magic of Faery’. To hold one of these Weapons would mean the scales of the war would be shifted in our favor.”

I regarded him carefully, paying special note to the way his voice was incapable of masking his hope. I nodded my head in understanding.

Bram continued with his lecture. “In addition to the Sword and Spear, there is also the
Stone of Fál
and the
Cauldron of the Dagda.
However, considering that neither of the two are weapons, I do not find it pertinent to include them in our lesson.”

Bram sat up a little straighter
in his chair, cleared his throat, and said, quite softly, “Caradoc held the Sword. With it he presided as High Master over the Council of Druids for thirty years. During his stewardship, we were peaceful and our families were protected. But, of far greater importance was the fact that we had driven all of the Fae back to Faery. At the next Autumnal Equinox we were to complete the ritual that would prevent the Sidhe from ever entering our world again.

“
However, it did not happen as we had planned—there were . . . complications.” He hesitated. “Caradoc used the Sword as the ritual dictated, and in the process was himself destroyed. However losing him was not the worst of it. Whether by repercussion, or independent circumstances of the ritual I am not sure, but the moment Caradoc ended, the boundaries separating the Faery from our own world rapidly whittled away until they had been reduced to nearly nothing.

“
Those of us who were present worked fervently to intervene before the walls collapsed entirely. We continue to watch them with the utmost of diligence, but we do not know how much longer they will hold. The walls, after all, are only material manifestations of our wills. One can only add so much to them before they become so heavy, we’ll say, that the added precautions become too heavy for the walls to bear any longer. This is the present state of the walls.

“You see
, Daine, there are different castes of Fae. Some of the lowest castes have managed to come through. Brownies, Sprites, Bogarts, Pixies, the Wee Ones, there are many names for them. And although these creatures can be quite pesky at times, they are not much of our concern. It is the Royal Court and its minions that would destroy us all should they manage to enter our world. They are older than we can comprehend, powerful beyond our own capabilities, and have allure able to enslave all of humanity.

“
You have met one of them, Maurelle. However she is one of the lowest members of the Royal Court and her superiors would make even her seem lackluster to say the least. That is speaking only of their glamour, and saying nothing of their own magical capacity and immortal comprehension.”

My mouth hung agape.
When he put it that way, what could we possibly do to protect ourselves if they ever did make it through? We had nothing that would stop their advancement except for a set of eroding barricades. The very idea filled me with despair. Not only for me, but for all of those whom I loved that would be utterly defenseless against such abominable power. But a weapon, a weapon that could actually hurt them was something worth holding at all costs.

“Bram,” I asked through my m
uddied thoughts, “where is the Sword now? You say Caradoc was destroyed, but was the Sword destroyed with him?”

Bram sat pensively, his fingertips meetin
g in a steeple before his mouth. It was a while before he chose to respond. “The Sword vanished at the passing of Caradoc. I do not know where it has gone.”

I was left feeling the effects of what appeared to be a hopeless situation. My
association with the Fae was limited to my experience with Maurelle and the knowledge that Bram had thus far imparted to me. It was not nearly enough, but it was enough for me to know that we were in trouble.

“But,
if you were able to physically bind a Sidhe royal to the very place that she stood, couldn’t the same be done to all Sidhe who were able to slip the wards and enter our world?” I asked him optimistically, but felt as though there was none for any of us.

Bram
opened his mouth to speak, but then closed his mouth to return to thinking of what he might say. Choosing his words most carefully, he said, “Maurelle and I have a special bond, one that does not come easily. What I did then has only been accomplished at one other time in the history of the Earth, and again, only between a human and Fae that had been somehow linked through previous ritual.”

I nodded my head grimly.
“What of the rest of the Widow’s prophecy . . . ‘The walls will crumble, the earth will weep,’ do you know when that will happen?” I asked hastily.

“
No, I only know that the walls will fall, and they will do so soon.”

“Was
the Widow ever wrong?” I asked hopefully.

“N
o.”

Bram deflated me
entirely.

“Daine, you asked me why I told you about the Curse of the Four Fathers, and thus far, the reason seems to have
wholly escaped your attention. So, I will be blunt. Yours is the blood of the fathers. All of them. You are the fourth generation. It has been four generations since Caradoc passed, and knowing that the Curse falls upon you, in addition to the prophecy, I fear that fate has dealt you an extremely difficult hand. Be that as you will, as I mentioned before, it is nonetheless your portion to do with as you will.”

I swallowed heavily.
“And what of the last bit that she told you, ‘the Sword held anew,’ and ‘peace be staid’?” I asked him a little too frantically for my liking.

“
It is your only hope, as well as mine. Unfortunately, we have not yet been able to locate the Sword. All the same, I am confident that we will.”

Bram’s fingers thrummed on the arm of his chair as he studied me carefully. “Daine,
I have come to the conclusion that the remainder of your instruction would best completed among the other Druids in Drumcliff.”

I was startled.
I had been fully expecting Bram to continue in his bleak history lesson.

“Th
ere would be some around your age, other apprentices and such. However the making of acquaintances is not my primary objective in asking you to accompany me there. I believe the influence of other Masters would give you greater control and skill as you are exposed to their individual strengths and weaknesses. You would have no choice but to challenge yourself in order to master
them
.

“
Additionally, they may instruct you in matters that I have unintentionally forgotten to teach you.” He paused for a moment, allowing me to see the humor in his eyes before adding offhandishly, “
And
, I have been away for quite some time. Despite having kept regular correspondence with the Council, I find the information shared to be lacking in its depth and current relevance by the time it reaches me. It is time that I went back, and I would like for you to accompany me.”

His green eyes looked at me expectantly, searching my face for any sign of my agreement and commitment to his proposal. The years of our interaction had allowed me the rare gift of being able to see his hope and desire in his seemingly emotionless and proper façade.

“Bram, I am speechless, not just by this but with everything.” My hands circled aimlessly in the air. “I cannot make this decision now,” I told him gently. He’d just extended me an opportunity unlike anything I’d ever encountered. In my seventeen years, I had never left Strasbourg. “I will need some time to consider it, and to discuss it with my parents.”

Although I was now considered to be a m
an, in good conscience I could not leave my parents without extending them the courtesy of expressing their opinions on the matter before I made my own decision. It was also prudent that I inquire if they might aid me financially in travelling to Ireland.

Bram nodded his head in agreement, and moved forward on his chair before gracefully lifting his old body out of his seat. “Well then, I think that is enough talking for today.” He walked to my chair and extended a strong but old hand toward me to help me from
my seat. I took it, and stood up gingerly. My foot had fallen asleep and had turned to lead. I shook my leg to resume the circulation, before noticing that my old friend still lingered close to me.

I was assuming that he would add a
monumental final stone to the preposterous mountain he’d just given me. But I was pleasantly surprised when he smiled and stated reassuringly, “I know you will make the right decision. Now, go home, think it over, talk with your parents, and then give me your answer in the morning.” He patted my arm and, without waiting for my response, walked toward his house.

I
remained where he’d left me, watching him leave. When he disappeared into the house, I slowly exhaled a long held breath. I had a lot to contemplate and none of it had to do with going to Ireland. I shrugged and turned away from Bram’s large manor, heading toward my parents’ comfortable stone cottage.

My parents would be excited about the opportunity. It was one that they themselves would not be able to provide. Although my father’s carpentry trade was doing exceedingly well, he and my moth
er both lacked the desire that pushed for change. They were comfortable in their situation, as they should be; they’d worked hard for it. But their complacency led them to assume that I would be equally satisfied to remain in the same situation I had been in since being born to them.

As I reached the
edge of the clearing that held the house and the barn, I stopped and attempted to imprint every fragment this place upon my very genetic makeup. I swallowed, slightly nervous, though already resolved in my decision. I went quickly up the well worn stone steps, and into the house. Together, my mother and I prepared dinner in the late summer afternoon that was just beginning to cool.

It went as I had predicted. Both of my parents were filled with sorrow that their only child was now c
hoosing to go off on his own, a sentiment they both managed to mask quite well. But, their sorrow was easily overshadowed by their excitement for the adventure and opportunity I’d been given. Granted, I doubt their reaction would have been as positive had it not been Bram who was asking me to leave. They viewed it as both a means to finish my education, as well as the opportunity to see the continent chaperoned by my adopted grandfather.

Without my asking, they offered to pay all
of the necessary travel expenses on my behalf. The matter arranged, my father clapped me on the back and shook my hand while he quietly remarked something about my having become a man. My mother stood not too far off smiling as she saw my father luminous with pride, and the way my no longer boyish features mirrored his almost perfectly. Though she put on a brave front, her eyes glittered in the firelight as she fought to save the tears that I knew would be seen only by my father.

The next morning, I arrived at Bram’s big house at the accustomed time for school. He was waiting for me on the front porc
h while eating an apple. I could tell by the light in his eyes and the smile that was showing through his alabaster beard that he already knew my decision. Seeing his reaction filled me with such joy that I could not help but beam back at him the smile I’d held in when he’d extended his offer for me to accompany him to Ireland.

“
As I said earlier, I knew you would make the right decision, my lad!” Bram happily exclaimed as he took my hand and pulled me in for a quick hug and pat on the shoulders.

His enthusiasm was catching, and I found it nearly impossible to remove the mas
sive smile that had plastered itself to my face. “When do we leave, Bram?” I asked him excitedly.

“Tomorrow,” he said, as he took a billfold of papers from his inner vest pocket and placed them into my own hand.

My heart beat heavily in my chest. There was so much to do in that amount of time, and I doubted my parents—let alone myself—had expected that I would be leaving so quickly. In my attempt to grasp the immediate proximity of our voyage and all that I needed to do beforehand, Bram had turned and was now walking away from me and through his house.

“I expect you’ll need some luggage,” he called loudly to me though the open front door.

I nodded my head, eyes wide, and I quickly jogged after him into the house. I was completely surprised to see that all of his furnishings, paintings, sculptures, and light fixtures were covered by white sheets. The windows had all been shuttered and reinforced. I could see from my place in the foyer that the fireplaces in both the drawing room and library had been cleaned and were now barren. The iron firewood grates waited empty and desolate in their places, while a meticulously stacked bundle of wood had been placed neatly beside the hearth for future use.

“Bram?” I called to him as I rushed past the large staircase and into a backroom
that overlooked the seats we had been sitting in the afternoon before.

The little, but ornate and well-
appointed room, served as his personal study. It was generally used for his “business dealings” and correspondence with his family and associates. But at the moment, it was also serving as a sorting room as Bram prepared himself to leave. Just to the right of the door were a large trunk and a small handheld suitcase.

“Use the smaller one for the day
-to-day things that you may need while we are travelling, and the trunk for everything else,” Bram instructed aside as he gathered and sorted papers into leather-bound carriers.

“Bram, my parents have agreed to pay for my travel expenses. I need to know how much to reimburse you, as well as how much I’ll need for the remainder of our journey,” I said as I stooped to pick up the small suitcase from where it was standing on the floor in front of the trunk.

Bram stopped sorting the papers and regarded me with an incredulously raised bushy, white eyebrow. His mouth pursed in absolute rejection. “Go and ready my wagon, boy—we’ll take the trunk to your parents’ home immediately. We’ll be traveling by train to Paris, and from Paris to Le Havre. From there, we’ll take a ship to Dublin. I have some business there, but once it has been concluded, we’ll proceed by coach to Drumcliff.”

It would appear that he was going to neglect the question of reimbursement entirely.

“Bram?” I asked as he again returned to sorting the papers on his large mahogany desk. “What if I had told you ‘no’?”

Again, he looked up from the papers, only this time it was with a
smile instead of a gruff scowl. “That would have been the wrong decision, and I have always taught you to choose what is right.”

I too smiled at his absolute logic, and left him happily to do as I’d been instructed. I readied the h
orses and carriage, and then reentered the house to grab the trunk and smaller suitcase from Bram’s study. Surprisingly, they were already waiting beside the door. Bram exited his house just as soon as I’d discovered the luggage, and sprightly jumped up into the driver’s bench.

I struggled as I loaded the heavy trunk alone, with
Bram watching amusedly from his perch.
The trunk must be lined with lead
, I thought to myself as I strained to lift it off the ground. After I had managed to wrangle the massive piece of luggage onto the luggage platform on the back of Bram’s carriage—with no help from Bram besides the occasional chuckle I might add—I jumped up onto the seat beside him. Without further delay, we were on our way to my house.

While my father helped me laboriously bring the trunk up to the house, Bram sat comfortably at our
well-used table enjoying coffee and a pastry with my mother. Once we had the trunk inside the house, my father sat down at the table with a great huff.

I was too excited to sit, and
set to busying myself in my room gathering my things together. Upon opening the trunk, I discovered multiple large leather portfolios, in addition to several extremely heavy small sculptures and silver serving items.

Bram
called for me to bring the trunk’s contents in to them, and so I did so as quickly as possible, setting everything on the rough-hewn table before them. Once the trunk was empty, I became so intently focused on packing the trunk that I failed to notice the conversation between Bram and my parents. It was only when the room fell silent that I attuned my attention to discovering the cause for the lag in discussion.

Bram was going over several of the legal documents detailed
in the leather-bound portfolios, which gave the horses and wagon to my father the moment we stepped foot on the train leaving Strasbourg the following morning. He then continued to relate that his large, and beautiful manor house, as it stood at this very moment with all the furnishings, ornaments, and property, was to be theirs the dawn of my twenty-fifth birthday.

I grinned stupidly.
At hearing this, I poked my head out of my bedroom door in order to see my parents’ reaction.

Both of my parents
had been struck dumb. My father barely managed a slight nod in Bram’s direction as he attempted to swallow heavily.

I returned to look over my room, smiling to myself
at the wonder that was Bram. I continued to anxiously busy myself, packing everything that I thought I could possibly need in an unknown place and future.

I cannot say that Bram, my parents, or
I slept at all that night. My mother fretted over me endlessly, mending my clothes, and even trimming my unruly hair, while my father and Bram spoke of things I was not able to hear due to my mother’s ministrations.

*              *              *

Just after dawn, the four of us stood on the platform next to a waiting train. It was a mild summer morning. Other passengers crowded the quay, forcing us to stand in close proximity as we prepared to voice our good-byes.

Remarkably, I s
aw no tears in my mother’s eyes. Instead, I saw nothing in their depths but pride, love, and hope. She held my father’s arm tightly, hardly speaking, and had barely uttered a word all morning.

My father too was unable to hide his pride in
, and hope for, his son. His optimism seemed to make him stand taller. For all of this, however, he was less able to hide his emotions and ran his hand frequently through his slightly graying hair.

When it was announced
that our train would be leaving, Bram quickly bid farewell to my parents and left us to ourselves.

“Good luck
, son,” my father said as he extended his hand out to me. “Make sure you study hard, stay out of trouble, and listen to Bram in all things.” He paused in the shaking of my hand and held it firmly as he told me, “You have always been an exceptional boy. I know that you will become an even more extraordinary man.”

I began to shake his hand slowly, unwilling to look him in the eye
after his touching words. I was grateful when my father pulled me in for a hug. I hugged him back, and only pulled away after he’d patted my back and whispered in my ear, “Don’t be afraid to do something great.”

When
I looked at him, he was smiling, radiating with encouragement. My father then reached into his coat pocket and retrieved a large bundle of folded bills. He slid them firmly into the inner breast pocket of my jacket, and solidly tapped my chest reassuringly with his palm.

He reached back to my mother’s waiting arm and pulled her forward to
face me.

S
he smiled warmly, looked me over from head to toe, and studied my face most carefully. “Daine, be careful while you’re away,” she said quietly as she focused on straightening my coat, “and make sure that you haven’t gone away forever.” Her auburn hair was warming in the dawn’s growing light when she added, “And if you happen to find yourself a wife, make sure she’s someone that I’ll approve of.” She lifted her haughty brow in emphasis while giving her head a definite nod of absoluteness.

A grin spread widely across my face, and I
laughed at the outrageousness of her statement. I pulled her in for a deep hug, her head leaning on my chest as she tried to breathe me in.

She looked at me, and
with a final act of courage dismissed me. “Now go, quickly, before I’m never able to let you go.” My mother stepped away from me and into the support of my father’s arm wrapped around her.

My father then took the simple
, dark-gray felted dress hat off his head and placed it on mine. They both seemed to like what they saw as they began to chuckle in a private sentiment that only the two of them could enjoy.

I looked at them for a moment, and finding that I was at a complete loss for words, gave them a curt nod of my acknowledgement, approval, and love, and then quickly turned an
d stepped up and into train car, which had been not far from my back.

I found Bram sitting c
omfortably not far from the entrance. Upon seeing me, he gestured for me to take a seat on the bench directly across from him. I took the seat quickly, and turned to look out of the window on my left. My parents still stood together, the picture of parental love and support, with the morning light rapidly growing at their backs to give them an almost angelic appearance.

I couldn’t help but feel a deep sadness at the imminent departure of my childhood, and the constant presence of both my mother and father. And though I fought to hide it, at seeing my mother and father both attempting to act
so bravely for my benefit, but failing to hide the tears that now escaped both of their eyes, I too allowed myself to fully mourn the passage of what once was.

The train began to move slowly
forward.

I raised my right hand, and planted
, fully spread, on the windowpane beside my face. My parents both raised their hands in farewell.

I watched them fade away until I could no longer see them
, huddled together and waving, on the quay. When all signs of them were gone, I leaned back and drew my hat down over my face feigning sleep. The hat my father had just given me conveniently hid the flood of tears that now coursed down my face. 

*              *              *

It didn’t take long for my sorrow to pass, and for my excitement about the new journey ahead to become my entire focus. Bram laughed good-naturedly at my inability to hold still, or to refrain from asking him innumerable questions about what might be in store for us. He bore the onslaught patiently, and related in detail everything he knew I would find either interesting or important.

My
excitement lasted the first twenty-four hours. After that, it faded and fizzled into absolute boredom.

Bram kept me occupied with a stack of ancient
and dull texts he insisted I memorize. I stared blankly at them as my focus wandered aimlessly over random daydreams, or to stare blankly out of the window at the passing scenery. Frequently, Bram would interrupt my reveries, insisting that I at least attempt to complete the task before me. But as he well knew, it was a futile effort and he chivalrously he accepted defeat.