“So you see her too?”
“I did see the woman…but I never saw her before. Not until today.”
“What would you say if I told you I was following her myself? We were lost in this damned storm. When the wind gusted, we couldn’t see a thing and have been riding blind. I’ve been following her for the last hour.”
“Who is she? A faerie woman? A spirit?”
“No, lass,” he said then laughed. “That was your mother.”
“My…my mother?”
“Her shade, at least. I see her from time to time. She often appears when I need her. Your mother was such a lovely thing. I know the story goes that I stole Emer from her father and forced her to be my bride. But the truth is, when the castle was sacked, Emer’s father brought his seven daughters before me and allowed me to choose my bride. I chose your mother for three reasons: she was the only one amongst her sisters who looked me in straight in the eyes, because she wore tattoos on her hands, marks of the old gods of the Isle of the Mighty, and because my soul knew her spirit. Soul magic. It was not the first time I’d met her spirit; I was drawn to her by a powerful force. And your mother, she knew it too. She knew the old ways and had no fear. I loved that girl for all the months she was my wife. And even before I had married her proper, I took her to the woods, and we shared vows under an ancient oak. Neither of us knew the other’s language, but our souls knew one another. I hand-fasted to her before the Gods, and she was my bride. Your mother died too young, all that magic still bottled up inside her. Now you’ve the spark in you, Little Raven. What will you do with all that magic?”
* * *
The ribbon finally wound to the bottom of the pole, and I crashed breathless onto the ground, the others laughing and giggling. Aridmis took Epona’s arm and swung her in a circle as the bards played on. Even Druanne smiled, and she relaxed, breathless, onto the grass. Calean, Banquo’s druid companion, was twisting Sid in wide pirouettes, dancing to the music. Sid was laughing and flirting shamelessly. Banquo flopped down into the grass beside me. He put his arms behind his back and was breathing hard from dancing. After a few moments I stood up and extended my hand to him.
“Come on,” I said.
He took my hand, and we headed into the woods. “Well, my lovely priestess, where are you leading me?”
“I want you to see something. I want to see if you…well, I just want you to see something,” I said.
I retraced the path of nine oaks to the mound where Sid had taken me, to Boudicca’s mound. The new, green leaves were shimmering overhead. Sweet young ferns, their chartreuse fingers uncurling, dotted the forest floor. The air smelled loamy under the rays of the warm spring sun. We entered the moss-covered valley where the mound sat at its center. Banquo slowed to a stop and stared at the mound. When I looked back at him, he’d gone absolutely pale.
“What…what is this place?” he asked.
I didn’t say anything.
Banquo took a few steps toward the mound, staring at it, and looked back at me. He looked shocked. “Cerridwen?” he said, his voice sounding hollow. He took a step toward me and reached out and took my hand. With his other hand, he reached out and stroked a stray hair away from my face. “Your hair was red,” he whispered.
I smiled up at him. “So was yours,” I replied.
I cast a glance toward the burial mound. Prasutagus, Boudicca’s husband, died many years before his wife. He would not have seen her burial mound. He would not have been buried nearby. But the energy of the place, the power emanating from the great queen’s very bones, charged the place with memory. I wanted to see if it would affect Banquo as it had me. I wanted to see if the name whispered on the wind—Prasutagus—was more than just a fantasy. My soul knew this man, loved him, but I didn’t want to fall prey to passion. I didn’t want to give in to the energy of Beltane. I wanted to be sure. Did our souls know one another as Boite’s and Emer’s had?
Banquo leaned in, took my face in both of his hands, and kissed me. First he kissed me gently, putting soft, sweet kisses on my lips. Then he grabbed me and pulled me hard against him. His tongue roved inside my mouth. I soaked up the softness of his lips, feeling the brush of the sharp stubble of hair on his face. He smelled so sweet, but even more, he felt so familiar. My heart was racing, my knees weak.
Banquo whispered in my ear. “I never felt this before. Nothing, nothing like this. I have seen lovely girls, danced, kissed, and felt magic before. But not until I stepped foot in this place have I felt anything like this. I know you,” he whispered in my ear. “This place whispered your name. Am I right? All that red hair,” he said, running his hand down my smooth, blue-black tresses, wound for the day with colorful ribbons, “Boudicca. My wife. My wife of old. I found you again.”
I pulled back and looked at him, sucking my bottom lip in, entwining my fingers in his. “It’s true. I felt it as well. That’s why I brought you here. I wanted to see if you remembered too.”
“But what is this place?” he asked again as he stepped toward the mound.
“The tomb of Boudicca.”
Banquo froze and stood staring at the mound. I didn’t know what he was seeing, what he was experiencing, but I could see from the expression on his face that it had moved him deeply. After a few moments, he turned and smiled at me.
“Let’s go and dance and make merry. We are lucky. Let’s revel in our luck. We found each other once again. I have you now, and I won’t let you go,” I told him.
“Promise it,” he said, pulling me close, “Cerridwen, with the violet eyes, promise it with your soul.”
I kissed him deeply then whispered in his ear. “I promise.”
Banquo bent and plucked a small purple violet from the forest floor. Smiling, he stuck it behind my ear. I took his hand and lead him back to the coven. My visions were not fancy. I’d found my love once again.
* * *
Night came quickly. And, as before, the expected pairs disappeared. That evening, however, my mind was clear. I had drunk very little. Banquo and I stayed up talking very late.
“You’ll leave in the morning,” I said regretfully.
“Yes, but I will be back again at Samhain.”
“You speak as if six months is a short time.”
“Isn’t it?”
“Not to me.”
“It will pass quickly.”
I smiled serenely and gazed into the fire, staring at the glowing red coals. The flames flickered and popped. My eyes felt drowsy and soon I thought I saw images in the light. It seemed that I could see myself in a grand castle hall, and I was shouting at the black-haired man I had seen in the cauldron. And, somehow, it seemed to me that Banquo was the reason for our quarrel.
“Cerridwen,” Banquo said and shook my arm.
I pulled myself away from the image and looked at him.
“What did you see?”
I didn’t want to tell him. With Banquo at my side, I had completely forgotten the dark-haired man. After all, what good to me was a phantom in comparison to the real, sweet flesh sitting beside me? Who was this ghost in my cauldron compared to Banquo, a noble lord himself, for whom I felt an ancient pull? I felt with all my heart that I belonged to Banquo. I always had.
“The court life,” I said in a half-truth.
“Will you rejoin the court one day?” Banquo asked. I heard the edge of excitement in his voice.
“I must.”
“When we leave here, I ride north for a brief time to my father. I am…I am also of a noble house. I will inquire with my father on his plans,” Banquo said cautiously.
“I…” I began, but I didn’t know what to say. I dare not tell him who I was without talking to Madelaine first. I would have given him anything, my very soul, but I didn’t dare do anything that would bring harm to Madelaine. I had to think of her too. “I need to talk to my family,” I said.