Arik and I raced through the grove of oak trees, our horses lathered and at full gallop, as if the hounds of hell were nipping at their hooves. A thick blanket of snow had slowed our progress and rather than sleep on the icy ground—or was it a desire to be home?—Arik and I had ridden all night. Now snow flew everywhere as we rushed on toward the manor gates up ahead.
“Open the gate,” the guard called out. “It’s Lord Arik and Lord Bran.”
I waved my gratitude to the man as I rushed past him and stopped at the manor steps, glad to be rid of the saddle after hours of a grueling ride.
“You’ve done well and earned your rest.” I patted my horse’s neck, gave the reins to the stable boy, and headed for the manor door. I didn’t wait for Arik. He would catch up soon enough.
I stomped my feet on the manor porch to rid them of the snow. Anticipation had my heart hammering against my ribs, as if I’d spent all day on the practice fields. I opened the door to a wall of welcoming warmth, expecting to find Jeannie ready to usher us in. Somehow she always knew when we were about. Instead, a woman with the greenest eyes I’d ever seen greeted me. She tilted her head and gave me a smile that sent my pulse racing before she hurried into the Great Hall, leaving me to wonder if I’d seen her at all. Something nagged at the back of my mind. The woman was familiar but where we had met escaped me. I gazed at the empty Great Hall doorway, my mind still pondering the question.
Jeannie, the housekeeper I expected, hurried down the hall toward me. The small woman was wiping her hands on her apron and wore her trademark big smile. I forced myself to refrain from grinning like Nick, the village idiot. My hands itched. I needed to find something to do with them or they would be wrapped around her hugging her like a homesick schoolboy. Although that was what I wanted most, a display like that was out of the question—after all, I’d left a boy and returned a man.
“I thought I heard hooves. I wasn’t certain if they were from horses or the clatter of not-so-little feet.” She dropped her apron into place. “Welcome home, Lord Bran.” I let out a slow breath, trying to keep my face calm and swallow around the lump that lodged in my throat. My emotional reaction caught me short. This would never do. I took a deep breath and fought to get my emotions under control. I had always been “the young master.” Now I was Lord Bran.
“Where is everyone?” I broke the spell and searched the entryway then the darkened Great Hall hoping for the flash of green eyes. The rich smell of the hearth fire wafted to my nose and the chorus of snores coming from the bumps and huddles on the floor and bent over the tables were a welcome sound. I wanted to race into the room and tell them I was home but I quickly smothered the boyish notion.
Jeannie hesitated long enough for me to see the question plainly on her face—what had I grown into? The council teachings were more than philosophy, history, and chivalry. We trained as druid knights—fighting knights studying war, weaponry, chants, spells, and the danger of dark magic. I wasn’t the skinny boy anymore filching cakes from her kitchen. Now I was a full-grown man and stole young girls’ hearts instead.
Jeannie searched behind me. I glanced over my shoulder to see what drew her interest. Arik filled the doorway. Brothers in every way but blood, we’d left five years ago to train with the Druid Council. Our training complete, we were back to claim our rightful places. As was the custom of our clan, upon returning newly knighted sons received their portions. As boys Arik and I had imagined our ultimate responsibilities often. Unknowingly we had been practicing our responsibilities for years. I played at managing the estate while he played the warrior knight. And now, at the end of our training, when the council chose Arik over all others to continue his studies, groomed to be the next Grand Master, Arik said he would step aside in favor of me.
“Lord Arik.” She moved behind me, taking the warmth of her smile with her. A tinge of resentment settled in my belly and snaked through my veins but I doused the fire quickly, if not completely.
“Jeannie.” He swept her up and hugged her tight. Perhaps my plan for a formal greeting—in order to establish my new station—had been a bit too harsh. Watching the two I realized a small hug may have been more comforting…for Jeannie. After all, as boys we had tormented the housekeeper. While we were agile and smart, somehow we always came out the losers. But her hugs were meted out regardless.
“What’s this? Tears?” Arik said as she dabbed at her eyes with the corner of her apron.
“Of joy,” Jeannie said. “Or perhaps the onions on my apron.” He let out a deep chuckle and held her close.
“Put me down, you brute, and let me close the door. You’re letting in the cold—and mind your manners. You both may be noble knights and warriors but I can still take my wooden spoon to you.”
Arik kissed her forehead and gently set her on her feet. She peered out the door and closed it soundly. “It’ll be dawn soon. Give me your cloaks.” She motioned toward the Great Hall. “They were certain you would arrive last night and insisted on waiting but never mind that, you’re both here now. Go inside and wake them. I’ll bring some hot cider to warm you.”
“Hot cider would be good. We’ve traveled all night.” I peeled off my gloves.
“We both wanted to be home before the new year and stand by Leticia when she casts out her yearly wishes,” Arik said.
We shrugged out of our cloaks. “Who’s the woman who greeted us?” I asked, trying to sound as unconcerned as possible. I kept searching my mind. I was certain I knew the woman.
“That’s Caylyn,” she said as she shook out our cloaks and draped them over her arm. “And before you ask me questions I can’t answer, she’s a guest of your father’s and if you want to find out more about her you’ll have to ask him.” She tapped her finger on my chest. In a warmer voice she added, “She arrived last week.” Ah, that’s my Jeannie. I pushed my hesitation aside, put my arm around her, and gave her an overdue hug. She kissed my cheek and patted my chest. It was good to be home.
She left us by the Great Hall doorway. I searched the room for Caylyn but all I found was a pretty little house girl moving silently along the wall lighting the torches. Now the bumps and huddles drew my attention as they stretched and transformed into people.
Fendrel, my father, and Dimia, my mother, slept in the large chairs by the fire wrapped in furs. Two blond heads poked above the covers on the oversize chair next to them. The two little ones, chubby Logan and scrawny Leticia, were never far away. I wondered what they would think of their older brothers and how we’d changed. It wasn’t until this moment that I realized how much I had missed them. I wondered if they’d missed me at all.
Logan’s head popped up first. He unfolded himself from the chair and tackled Arik around the waist. I stood there amazed. The small, chubby boy had grown tall and sleek with developing muscles. He came up to Arik’s shoulders and had all the indications of being as broad as his older brother. He grabbed my hand and with his other pounded my back in a manly greeting. The connection between us was still there. I gripped his hand and smiled with relief.
A slender arm stretched out from under the fur where Logan had been. Long, shimmering blonde hair cascaded over the dark cover. The blanket fell away and out stepped a beautiful woman. With the last remnants of sleep about her, she stared at me and gave me a radiant smile. Was this the child sorceress who sent out new year’s wishes? Leticia? I couldn’t help but stare at her form. Scrawny? Even though she wore a simple dark blue gown I easily made out her ample breasts and rounded hips.
She rushed to me, took my hand, and kissed my cheek. “Welcome home, Bran.”
“Is there an enchantment here?” I held her hand high, then spun her around.
“Don’t be silly. It’s me,” she laughed. With her other hand she grasped Arik’s. Too soon he pulled her away from me. He held her close and kissed her nose. A flash of unease ran through me before the reality I kept hidden for years hit me hard. They were sister and brother. I was an orphaned foster son and had no claim here.
“It’s good to be home.” Arik handed her back to my care. He went to his father and nudged him gently. Fendrel’s eyes cleared and he recognized Arik. The joy on his face was bright. The fact that the lines on his face were deep and that his vivid red hair had faded to gray were not difficult to notice. He rose, careful not to disturb Dimia. He was still a well-muscled man. I stood in my spot as the father and son reunited in a genuine embrace.
I waited.
Fendrel peered over Arik’s shoulder. His face lit up when he saw me. He pounded his son’s back, broke away, and opened his arms to me.
I stood still, a bit straighter under his scrutiny, perhaps—and a lot more confident than when I had left. It would be good to feel his bear hug but I held my ground. Denying the ache to put my arms around him was most difficult but I endured.
I had to prove my worthiness to him. I had to make him see who I was and what I’d become. He had to know without a doubt that I was a confident man, not an insecure boy.
“Bran. Let me look at you.” His voice sounded tired. Or did I sense disappointment? He lowered his arms and studied me from head to toe as he had so many times when I was a child. His smile widened. I knew that he saw who I had become and his approval pleased me.
Arik knelt next to Dimia. “Mother,” I overheard him say quietly as he gently nudged her shoulder.
Her eyes opened and she nearly flew out of the chair. “Arik. At last.” She threw her arms around him and kissed his cheek. “Where is…” She searched the room until she found me.
“Bran.” She left Arik’s embrace.
“Mother,” I murmured. She came to me and before I could do anything she wrapped me in her arms. My chest tightened and I gasped for breath. My arms hesitated in midair for a moment before I put them around her. I couldn’t move away. I didn’t want to.
Home.
That’s how she felt.
With my eyes closed, I held her and reveled in her affection. After years of putting up with the loneliness of being away from everyone I knew, we were finally together.
A knock on my door woke me as I slept in my own bed. Exhausted from our long ride, I chose to ignore the intrusion. I turned over for a few more hours of sleep. When I rose in the late afternoon I found a plate of bread and cheese on the table near the hearth.
It must have been Jeannie’s doing. As a boy, there were times I was sent to bed without supper. Even though Arik pilfered something for me to eat, I would wake at night and find a plate laid out for me. The one time I asked Jeannie about it she’d feigned no knowledge and told me it must the work of the fae.
I chuckled to the empty room. Fae indeed. It was Jeannie then and it was Jeannie now. I opened the window and scanned the undisturbed snow. “Hail and welcome,” I said to the day. Although the morning salutation was a bit late, I wouldn’t tempt to anger the Great Mother. I touched the pouch I wore around my neck and whispered my daily offering to the wind.
“As above, so below,
As within, so without,
May the Great Mother’s day be so blessed,
That she may grant me my request. So mote it be.”
A gust of cold air sent the drapery flapping. I closed the window, picked up a piece of cheese then stared at the snow. What had the council said before we left? Your new life is like a field of untouched snow. It is up to you to make your mark and use your gifts, wisely. My destiny rested with the family and I needed to secure my rightful place. The knowledge that all I had dreamed, worked, and prayed for was within my grasp made me giddy with anticipation.
Fendrel and Dimia had raised me as their own since my second year. I was their son. The fact that my long-deceased Orkney Island parents were distant relatives of Fendrel’s was not the issue. Managing the clan’s Orkney estate was much the same as managing Fayne Manor except Orkney Island was harsher and wilder. On our annual pilgrimages there I found the long, almost-nightless summer and equally long, sunless winter depressing. The constant wind and sea fog added to the discomfort. I longed for the normalcy of sunrise and sunset.
The island landscape was barren. It was as if something had come along and scrubbed out all the trees. Why anyone would live there was a mystery to me. But Arik thrived when we were there—always off doing something then coming back to recount the news about his cousins. That didn’t interest me at all. The tenants were happy we were there but I suspect happier when we left. The stone estate house was simple and comfortable but it was Fayne Manor that I called home. Fayne Manor was where I belonged. Here was my birthright.
I glanced at the tenant farms out past the manor wall, now all covered in snow. Childhood memories of how my life would be danced in front of me. Five years of long nights had given me time to picture my future. But it wasn’t until the night Arik and I celebrated the announcement that Arik would be the next Grand Master that the talk became serious. His insistence to give up his birthright, Fayne Manor, in my favor was more than I’d ever hoped for.
I knew I’d have to prove myself the best man. Fendrel was fair. He would choose me and Arik would be my right hand. He was the more personable of the two of us and he liked to work with the tenants.
I’d have him manage them, although he was much too lenient when it came to leading men. The Druid Council didn’t recognize his shortcoming the way I did. What did those old men know? Under my tutelage he would learn. People needed and respected a strong leader. A voice in my head took me to task. I may have been too harsh but I didn’t give the voice recognition. I had my pride.
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