Emily's House (The Akasha Chronicles) (3 page)

“Oh, come on. Show us,” she whined.

I hadn’t seen visions in a while, but I continued to use my telekinesis, at least in the privacy of my own room. I knew better than to let Muriel know about these ‘special abilities’ as Hindergog called them. The cat was out of the bag with Fanny and Jake.
Why not show them so they stop bugging me about it?

I stared at Jake’s backpack that he’d flung down. I concentrated on wanting the backpack, and it slowly raised then floated through the air right to me.

Silence filled the space between us. My heart raced, and my palms started to sweat. This was it, the moment I had dreaded. Now that Fanny and Jake knew my secret, they’d know for certain what a colossal freak I was. Their stunned silence and gaping mouths said it all.

Finally, Jake broke the silence. “THAT WAS ABSOLUTELY BRILLIANT! I wouldn’t have believed it if I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes.”

“Coolest-thing-ever! Do it again,” squealed Fanny like a little girl.

“Younglings, we do not have time for Miss Emily to do any more tricks. My time is short, and I have much to tell - much for Miss Emily to learn - before she sets off on a journey to her destiny.”

“Why do I have to go on a journey, and to where? What destiny are you talking about?” I asked.

“Miss Emily, there is an ancient evil – a dark one – set on a path that will lead to the destruction of your world. He lived in the time of your ancient ancestor, my mistress Saorla, the last High Priestess of the Order of Brighid. He is responsible for. . .”

Hindergog paused. His face looked pinched, and a tear was in his eye.

“Go on Hindergog. What was he responsible for?”

“This evil one, Dughall, was responsible for the end of the Order of Brighid. He is in human form once more, and if he succeeds with his plan, it will likely destroy your world.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa. What are you talking about? Is he, like, reincarnated? And destroy our world? How?” asked Jake.

“I know you have many questions Younglings, and I will answer these questions by telling you a story. I am a bard and keeper of the sacred stories of the Order of Brighid. Please humans, rest easy as I tell you all that you need to know.”

“I gotta' hear this,” said Fanny.

“We’ll listen Hindergog,” I said.

“Yeah, we got nothin’ better to do,” said Fanny.

“Except algebra,” said Jake.

“Shh,” Fanny and I both said at once.

Hindergog took a deep breath, closed his eyes for a moment and then opened them slowly.

“Listen well younglings as the tale I have to tell is an important one. The tale is of my most beloved mistress and of Miss Emily’s ancestor. Some of it will be difficult for me, as I must tell you of a terrific battle and of the tragedy that lead to the last days of the Order of Brighid. Please do not interrupt so that I may say all that I must say before my time here is gone.”

The three of us settled in, all our eyes on the hologram Hindergog as he began his story.

3. Saorla

Like all Priestesses of the Order of Brighid before her, Saorla left her home when she was ten and entered the Sacred Grove. After much training, lessons and hard work, Saorla took her place as the High Priestess of the Order of Brighid.

But it was a difficult time for the Order of Brighid. Much change came to ancient Ireland, the fair land of Tara. Because it was an island and well protected by its fearsome Celtic warriors, the ancient ways survived on the Emerald Isle far longer than in most of Europe. But in Saorla’s time powerful invaders came from the south with large armies and ships.

More powerful than the soldiers and their weapons were the ways of thinking the newcomers brought with them. The newcomers prayed to one male god rather than to the many gods both male and female of Saorla’s ancestors. The Druidic ways were being lost.

The raiders wiped out whole villages. Those that survived adapted to the new ways in order to avoid scrutiny, ridicule or worse – death to them or their family.

All over fair Tara the old ways were forgotten. Priests replaced the Druids. Nuns replaced priestesses. Saorla’s Samhein became ‘All Hollow’s Eve’ – your Halloween. Alban Arthuan became the day of their god’s birth, Christmas. Imolc became the day of their god’s death and resurrection, Easter.

“I didn’t know that those holidays existed before Christians,” interrupted Fanny.

“Yes, most of what you humans celebrate today existed in the ancient world. None of it is new. You just rename it from time to time. Now listen.”

Saorla’s most crucial job as High Priestess was to protect the golden torc, an object imbued with immense power. The torc was forged in the first days of the Order, in the time of the Great Pyramids, by faerie hands in service to the Goddess. From the start, it was blessed with magical power and wrapped while still warm around the upper arm of the first High Priestess of the Order. It was then passed from High Priestess to High Priestess, each time imbued with the energy and magic of the wearer. Over the millennia, it became a most powerful object indeed.

“Wait a minute,” I said. “A 'torc?' What’s that?” I asked Hindergog.

“Ah, that’s right. Humans no longer wear them much. A torc is a piece of jewelry, usually worn around the neck but sometimes worn by warriors around their upper arms. The craftsman would twist many thin wires of precious metal around each other to form a ring that could be worn. The Torc of Brighid, worn by the High Priestess of the Order for millennia, was made of the purest gold.”

Saorla’s other role as High Priestess was to be the highest-ranking advisor to the High King of Tara. Because she had the sight, she used her visions to alert the king to any plots against him or his lands.

But by Saorla’s time, few even knew that the Order of Brighid existed. The Order had been held secret by so many for so long in order to protect it that there were few to believe it existed. The Order of Brighid and the Sacred Grove were relegated to myth.

While Saorla was the highest and most trusted advisor to the King, Saorla’s most trusted advisor was Cathaír. Cathaír was the liaison between the High Priestess and the King. Cathaír was also charged with the duty to protect the Sacred Grove and the Order of Brighid from outsiders. Cathaír was, in fact, the only living human man to know of the exact location of the Sacred Grove.

“You mean no men lived there at all?” asked Jake.

“That’s right. And once a young girl was inducted into the Order, she never left the Sacred Grove again.”

“So they were like nuns!” said Fanny.

“Holy crap, man, are you saying that Emily has to become a nun?” asked Jake.

“Settle yourselves. Times, of course, are different now. There is no order anymore. Please listen as you learn what happened.”

One day Saorla summoned Cathaír to her.

“Cathaír, you must ride to the King at once. I have foreseen an army, large in numbers, and with a most fierce leader. They plan to invade our fair land in the coming months.”

“I trust your vision my Priestess, but we have survived many invaders in the past. I will tell the High King, and he will raise his armies to protect our fair land.”

“This invader is different, Cathaír. He is fork-tongued and will promise much to those who follow him. And I have foreseen a plot, most terrible, against the King himself.”

“Then I will ride to the King at once and tell him what you have foreseen.”

“Cathaír, there is more. But this you must not tell the King.”

“What is it? What have you seen?”

“I have seen. . . I have seen a dark invader here, Cathaír. Here at the Sacred Grove.”

“No, that is impossible. The protections are too strong. An army of men would never see the walls. Even if they did, the enchantments that have protected it for thousands of years will hold. And of course there is Lianhan Sídhe. She will not let any man enter. And if anyone did manage to find the gate, let alone get past Lianhan Sídhe and get in, Madame Wong would dice them to pieces!”

“Yes I know Cathaír, it seems impossible. I don’t know how it will happen. . . I wish that I did. I only know what I saw. A dark haired man with a large army will enter through the gates of our beloved Grove.”

“Your gift of sight is most powerful, your Highness, but I hope for the sake of Tara that it is off this time.”

“I do too, Cathaír. I do too.”

That night Saorla took her usual evening stroll to the Moon Well to meditate and speak with the Goddess. As she looked into the Moon Well, she saw a vivid and violent scene. She wished with all her heart that she had not seen it. This second vision, from the sacred Moon Well itself, confirmed the first. There was no doubt of it. Her remaining days in the Sacred Grove were few.

4. The Wedding

Cathaír rode through the night to the walled city of the High King of Tara and advised King Ruaidrí of all that Saorla had said, all except for her prediction of invaders to the Sacred Well itself. Cathaír told the High King of Saorla’s recommendation that the King raise his armies and arm all available men and women in the port cities to protect against the invaders.

Ruaidrí scoffed at Cathaír’s news. “Lad, this land has lived in peace for many harvests. My lookouts know of no invaders on the shores of fair Tara. I’m afraid our Lady of the Well is replacing her vision with fear,” Ruaidrí said as he raised a mug of mead to his lips.

“Your Highness, the High Priestess’s vision has never failed you before. She implores you to take action to fortify the port cities. She has seen a large and fearsome army overtaking our land,” replied Cathaír.

Ruaidrí drank more mead and thought for a few minutes. If the wise woman’s vision was true, perhaps it was a warning from the Goddess herself. In order to appease the Christian bishops and local monks, more and more he and his estate followed the Christian rites, eschewing the old ways. By decree, he had forbidden many of the ancient practices and approved of the renaming of others. Many of his people were devoted to the new religion but still just as many – like Ruaidrí himself – mouthed the words of the hymns and prayers, but in their heart, they longed for the Beltane fires.

As he reflected, he thought that perhaps the Goddess was upset with him. Maybe he needed to appease her. He felt certain that an offering to the Goddess – a festival to honor her – would put him again in good favor with the gods and goddesses of his homeland. Perhaps the High Priestess’s vision did not portend of what was to come but was instead a warning.

At last Ruaidrí spoke. “What is called for is a great ceremony to appease the Goddess. We will perform a ban-feis. Now go, Cathaír, and tell the High Priestess to ready herself for the ritual.”

“But my King, I mean no disrespect, but as you know, the vows taken by the Lady of the Well, she cannot attend a festival outside the walls of the Sacred Grove. Another priestess, one of high rank, must perform the ceremony instead.”

“Cathaír, return at once to the Sacred Grove and give this message to the High Priestess. Let her know that her vows are of no consequence when the very soul of fair Tara is at stake. We shall have the ban-feis at the next full moon, and I expect the High Priestess to perform the role of Goddess,” said Ruaidrí and dismissed Cathaír without another word.

“What is a ban-feis?” asked Fanny.

“The ban-feis is a ritual that had not been performed in many years. During the ban-feis, there is feasting, bonfires, and the King is married to the Goddess,” answered Hindergog.

“You mean a real Goddess existed, and the King married her?” asked Jake. “Okay this is starting to get too weird, even for me.”

“There’s no ‘real’ goddess Jake,” I said.

“There is indeed a Goddess, fair Emily. But for the ban-feis the King ritualistically married a priestess or druidess disguised as the Goddess, thus uniting the people with the forces of nature and the land,” said Hindergog. “Listen as I continue my tale.”

All across the land the announcement of the ban-feis spread. Those that still followed the old ways were excited and pleased that the King was making peace with the Goddess. Many who did not outwardly follow the old ways out of fear of scorn were secretly happy within their hearts too. The people missed the joyous feasts of old when the High King, as well as all regional kings, opened their larders and all – high born and peasants alike – feasted and celebrated.

The next full moon fell on Samhein itself, the New Year for those who followed the ancient ways. It was the end of October and the time when the veil between the worlds is at its thinnest. The time when spirits and beings from other worlds are more easily seen in your world.

Saorla had not left the Sacred Grove since she arrived all those years ago. While Cathaír was strongly against it, Saorla agreed with Ruaidrí that they were not in ordinary times.

In Saorla’s heart, she also yearned to see the world outside the walls of the Sacred Grove. She had not attended festival since she was a child. Saorla was excited to see the famed festival fires, hear the thundering drums and feast on meat and game. As a Priestess, Saorla ate mainly fruits of the forest, bread, root vegetables and herbs and only occasional fish or fowl. She had not eaten game since she came to the Grove.

Saorla attended the ban-feis personifying the Goddess herself. To keep her identity secret, she wore a mask and an understated, long white tunic and cloak so that the torc around her arm was covered.

For the ceremony, Saorla and her attending priestesses traveled four days to the north and east until they reached the ancient, sacred site. For countless generations, her people had gathered there for ritual around the central stone cairn. It was all but abandoned. Most no longer remembered who was buried in the tombs on top of the hill or why the ancient peoples had made the intricate carvings of swirls and circles in the large stones placed there. But the place still had a sacred energy about it that made all who gathered at the top of the hill fall into reverent silence.

Saorla and King Ruaidrí gathered on top of the hill known as Loughcrew along with the regional kings, their ladies and other noblemen and high born. The ceremony began at dusk on Samhein as the highest-ranking Druid Priest in the High King’s court performed the ban-feis ritual as the sun set over the Slieve na Caillaigh hills at Loughcrew.