Spellbound: The Awakening of Aislin Collins (41 page)

Outside the room, I could hear men working,
and the noise of many feet moving about.

“Do all the passengers have rooms like this?”
I asked. I looked around, really noticing the room for the first
time.

“No. This is that Captain's quarters,” he
smiled.

“I thought that a captain never gave up his
quarters?” I said in astonishment.

Greer laughed to himself as he ran his
fingers through my hair, “Most people will give up anything for a
certain price. I could not have you living in the cramped confines
below deck. There is far too much disease that is passed down there
. . . and we could not be alone like this either.”

I rested my head on his chest and watched our
fingers interlace as soft sunlight entered the room through the
window.

“I am glad we are alone.”

“What were you dreaming about this morning?”
Greer asked inquisitively, “You were smiling and giggling in your
sleep,” he said with a tone of amusement.

I noticed how beautiful his smile was. It was
so full of joy that it made me smile as well.

I thought back to before I had awoken, “We
were in a castle that stood high on a precipice. It was made of
soft sand colored stones and had round towers and a surrounding
wall that enclosed it.”

The details came back to me with great
clarity. “There were great archways made of stone and we were
running through them, but we were laughing,” I smiled, recalling
our happiness. “We reached an outlook at one of the roof tops, and
we looked across the valley below us. It was unlike anything I had
seen before. The land was green with large rocks jutting up from
the hillside and soft mountains far in the distance. It was
beautiful.”

“That is Loarre. My mother's home,” Greer
said with great surprise. “It is one of the most beautiful places I
have ever been,” he said.

His thoughts drifted, “I have not been there
since I was barely twenty-two . . . it is odd that you would have
such a dream.”

There was a knock on the cabin door and Greer
got up to answer it. I watched as he moved about. His tall slender
frame was muscular, his shoulders broad, his olive skin smooth. He
pulled a sleep shirt over himself and went to the door, and then
returned to me with a tray of food and a flagon of water.

“You should eat,” he sat down beside me.
“Food on ships doesn't stay fresh for long, so you eat while you
can,” he said, in a serious manner.

“Will you eat?” I asked curiously.

“No, I do not think so.”

“But I saw you eat at the Ball. Why then and
not now?”

“Well…” he pressed his lips together as he
thought of how to explain himself, “Is there any type of food that
you dislike?”

“Aye,” I nodded, “Beets . . . I cannot stand
them,” I crinkled my nose and made him laugh.

“But if you had no other food and were
starving, regardless of their taste, beets would sustain you. Would
they not?” he pointed at the food and gestured that I eat it.

“Yes. I suppose they would, although I would
not enjoy the experience very much.”

“When I ate at the Ball it was because I was
starving . . . if I only had known that a few moments later I would
have a feast that far surpassed my needs, I would have not touched
that food,” he said the last part more to himself then to me.

“How did you learn these things about
yourself? How you can sustain injuries and survive and what you
should and should not eat?” I asked.

“The Order taught me how to survive,” his
voice held reservation in it.

“You feel as though you owe them?”

“No,” he shook his head and frowned. “I have
broken their rules and so I am on my own. They are not part of my
life anymore.”

I sat up in bed and pulled the blanket around
my chest, tucking it under my arms. I made a concerted effort to
nibble at the bread and meat that was placed before me.

Greer went to one of my trunks and searched
through it until he came back to me holding an envelope.

“This is for you.” He placed the letter next
to me, “It is from your mother. She did not want you to read it
until we had left port.”

I took the letter and carefully opened the
envelope, knowing that this would be my last contact with my mother
for some time. I did not want to tear the parchment at all.

My Beautiful Daughter,

By now, you are at sea with your new husband
and I pray that I made the right choice by giving you to him.
Forgive me for not trusting Greer as you do. When you have
children, you will understand the constant worry that haunts the
heart of a mother.

I wanted you to know that Greer left a
substantial amount of money in our possession. If your father
chooses to, he will never have to work again. Of course, this is
his choice to make.

You should also know that we are employing
Becky to help me around the house now that you will be gone. There
has been some quiet talk in town of people who are willing to help
slaves find freedom. At this time it is just quiet rumblings of
course, but we will help Becky and her family in anyway we can.

I will not say goodbye to you Aislin because
you will always be in my heart. Please write to me from time to
time and tell me of your new life. I will be thinking of you.

Beannacht ort,

Your mother and friend,

Deidre

I placed the letter back into the envelope
and Sneachta jumped on the bed. She snuggled in next to me and
rolled on her back, her belly looked large.

“You are fat!” I said to her. She hissed in
reply, but did not move.

“That is my fault,” Greer laughed. He
scratched her head and she purred happily. “This ship is full of
mice, and I have been letting her run about all day.”

I lifted her on top of my lap and kissed her
soft fur, she purred in response. I looked between Sneachta and
Greer and felt content. They were my family. We loved each other
and we were truly happy.

We arrived in Glasgow on an overcast morning.
It was a busy port with many ships and merchants going about their
business.

Greer hired a carriage to bring us to the
castle that was located over sixty miles away. The journey was only
a few days in length and it did not bother me at all. Scotland was
a magnificent country. Everywhere I turned, I saw great beauty.
Better still, I was with Greer, who regaled me with stories of the
towns we passed through. Some of the stories were folklore and some
were real. Some seemed to hang on the borderline between the
two.

We traveled through the day and stayed at
Inns in the evening. Greer said that highwaymen patrolled these
lands, and it was safer to avoid encountering them. He wanted our
arrival to be a quiet one.

Sneachta enjoyed the nightly break and took
time to hunt. I wondered if she had met other faeries yet, and if
she was happy to be in Scotland. From her demeanor it certainly
seemed so. She had not hissed or flicked her tail at me since we
arrived.

Greer also seemed relieved to be in his home
country. He smiled so often and so frequently that we were both
constantly laughing. We would dance in the evening while the
fiddlers played and when we would finally retire to the bedchamber,
we would make love through the night. I was very glad that Sneachta
took this time to hunt.

As we traveled in the day, we would pass
castles and villages, rolling hills and fog covered plains. This
country was full of magic.

I recognized faerie mounds that my mother had
described to me from the Isle. I even saw ancient ritual sites,
comprised of tall stone circles where magical rites were observed.
I knew deep in my heart that I was home as well.

Finally, the carriage wound up a cobblestone
path and there, straight before us, was the Ruthven Castle.
Memories from another life flooded through my consciousness, and I
felt my breath falter as I looked upon my new home.

The whole building was made of grey colored
stones and bricks. It was tall and seemed to be four different
squared off towers that were built one after another. There were
archways, towers, and long rectangular windows peppered every
wall.

“We are home,” Greer smiled.

He took my hand in his, and I picked up
Sneachta and tucked her under my arm. The carriage came to a halt
in front of an arched doorway.

Waiting outside the doorway stood an old man
with grey hair and a solid build. He walked to the carriage and
opened that door for Greer.

“Sir,” he said in a heavy Scottish accent,
“It is lovely to have you home.”

“It is good to see you Callan. You are
looking well.”

The old man, Callan, looked at Greer with a
bewildered expression, “Sir, you have not aged a day since you
left,” he stammered.

Greer just smiled and reached into the
carriage for me. “Callan I would like you to meet the Lady of the
Manor, Aislin, my new bride,” Greer beamed, as he gently placed me
onto the gravel path.

Callan's eyes widened with recognition and he
stood silent for a long while before he regained his composure,
“Lady Aislin, it is an honor,” Callan said. He bowed cordially,
took my hand in his, and kissed it.

“Sir, I will have your possessions taken to
your chamber. You must be tired from your journey.” He looked back
at the house nervously and then returned his gaze to Greer.

“What is it Callan?” Greer followed the old
man's eyes to the first floor windows of the castle.

The man's bottom lip quivered as he shook his
head, “I am so sorry sir, but I could not get them to leave. They
said they were expecting you. They're a sinister looking bunch
sir.”

“Who are you talking about?” Greer asked
uneasily.

I could see movement in the first floor
windows, as dark figures moved about.

Callan looked in the same direction and
gulped, “They call themselves
The Order
, my lord.” He looked
at Greer with worry in his tired eyes, “They are waiting for
you.”

Margeaux Laurent lives in the South Western
United States with her family.

*************

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Aislin
pronounced (Ash leeng) in
Ireland, but in the Colonies her family and friends pronounce her
name as (Aze-lyn), (the “aze” rhyming with maze)

Dearg Dul
: pronounced (
jiarg-dool)

Deirdre
pronounced (deer- dre) in
Ireland, but in the Colonies (Dee-drah)

Púca
pronounced (pookah)

Sneachta
pronounced (Shnok-tah) in
Irish, but Aislin and her family call their pet (Sneach-tah)

Samhain
(sow-en)

Also known as All Souls Night or Halloween.
It takes place on October 31st and celebrates the harvest and
honors the spirits of those who have passed. Bon fires are a
traditional part of Samhain.

Alban Arthuan
(Al-bon Ar-thoo-an)

Also known as Yule. The holiday that takes
place on the winter solstice. It honors the Mother Goddess and the
birth of the divine Sun child. Evergreens and Yule logs are
traditional decorations for this fire festival.

Imbolc
(im-bulk)

This holiday takes place on February 1st and
honors the triple Goddess Brigid. Decorating ploughs, lighting
candles, and feasting are traditional parts of Imbolc.

Ostara
(oh-star-ah)

This holiday celebrates the union of the Sun
God and the Maiden Goddess, as the Sun now grows in strength.
Planting seeds and being in nature, decorating eggs and using them
in holiday fare are traditional.

Beltane
(Bell-tinuh)

Taking place on May 1st, the holiday honors
the Mother Goddess and the Horned God and celebrates the great
abundance of the earth. Burning fires, dancing around a “May pole”
are traditional of this holiday.

Midsummer

Taking place on June 21st, the Goddess
Arianrhod takes the Young God into her realm where he will learn
and grow until his birth at Yule. Feasts and Faery magic are
traditional of this holiday.

Lughnasadh
(loo-nah-sah)

Takes place on August 1st, and honors the
God Lugh. His festival honors his mother, who died as she tilled
the land of Ireland. Feasts, crafting corn dollies, wreaths, and
jewelry from wheat are traditional of this holiday.

Mabon
(ma-bon)

Takes place on September 22, and honors the
Young Son Mabon and his mother, the Goddess Modron. A holiday of
thanksgiving, where wine is served, and the harvest is enjoyed.

Beannacht ort
(bahn-ukth - urt):
Roughly translates to “Blessed Be”