Book III
The Prophecy
Chapter Eight
By Lady Faelyn Rose

The sun had risen over the snow capped mountains which bordered the forest north of Britain. Nestled at the foot of those mountains, stood the stone fortress of Lord Augustus; Ravenswood Castle. The iron doors of the fortress stood open this day, flanked by two armed guards dressed in black and red. Six banners, bearing the clan colors, flapped proudly in the wind. Groups of clansmen streamed up the steps and through the doors towards the roof top garden of the fortress. Every man, woman and child in the town of Ravenswood had been invited to join the Lord and Lady of the clan in a feast of celebration.


For today the heir of Ravenswood was to be married.


The Lady Loria, wife to Lord Augustus, sat in her private chambers at a small table before the fire. Her frail fingers deftly shuffled a well worn deck of Tarot cards, as she waited to be escorted to the garden on the roof of the fortress.

Slowly she laid out the cards, face down, on the table. The first card was placed in the center of the table; the second card was laid, lengthwise, across the first. Several more Tarot cards were place in a circular pattern surrounding the first two cards.

When the pattern was complete, Loria began to turn each card over, one at a time, in the order in which they had been laid down. The first card brought a smile to her face. It was the Ace of Wands, a card which, in Loria's mind, had come to represent the beginning of life or the impending birth of a child. It was a fitting card on the day of her son’s wedding; the promise of a grandchild for Lord Augustus.

The second card, lying lengthwise across the first, represented the immediate influence surrounding the future of the subject. But when Loria turned this card, she sat in stunned silence. The mother of the child was not Shana Rose. The card lying before her was the Queen of Wands; which represented her daughter, Regina.

A soft tapping upon the chamber door interupted Loria’s thoughts. She called her permission to enter and was surprised to see Regina sweep into the room with a whisper of silk. Her beautiful daughter was dressed in a flowing black gown, and Loria realized immediately that even on this joyous day, the young woman would continue to mourn the loss of a man she barely knew; the dark stranger, Lord Torren of Fairwynds.

It had been two moons since the day Lord Augustus had brought their daughter back from the cursed island of Fairwynds. Regina had been so stricken with grief, over the events which she had witnessed, on the isle that she had withdrawn from her family for several days. Regina had seemed unable to speak or perform the simplest task, so deep in shock had she been upon her return. Loria had hovered close to her daughter’s side day and night, caring for the traumatized young woman. Eventually, Regina had regained her senses and one morning the young widow was found perched upon a high stool beside the forge, in the blacksmith shop, where her late husband had once labored. After that day Regina had begun to join the family for meals and was often seen walking in the forest around Ravenswood. But Loria could see that, just as the cards had predicted, Torren had forever changed Regina’s life.

And now the cards foretold the birth of a child.

“Good morrow, mother” Regina said, as she took a seat by the fire, beside her mother “Are you ready to join the others in the garden?”

Although Regina was dressed like a dark queen, in a jet silk gown, with her hair swept high upon her head, Loria could not overlook the sadness which shadowed her daughter’s eyes. For weeks the once fearless warrior maiden had wandered the fortress like a silent spirit, clothed in widow’s garb. The light and laughter had disappeared from her eyes and, the once, ever present, dimple was no longer seen.

Loria covered her daughter’s hand with her own “How are you feeling, my dear?” she asked.

Regina stared off into the distance and answered, in a distracted voice “I am well, mother.”

“Look at me, Regina.” Loria said, watching as her daughter slowly turned her head and tried to focus on her mother’s face “There is something which I must asked you.”

“What is it, mother? You look distressed.” Regina replied.

Loria squeezed her daughter’s hand with affection “Daughter, is there any chance that you might be with child?” she questioned carefully, watching for Regina’s reaction.

The young woman’s dark eyes blinked twice, as her mother’s words penetrated the fog of her grief. And then they widened, as the air escaped from her lungs in a gasp. Regina’s fingers released her mother’s hand; settling, instead, upon her own midriff.

And for the first time in weeks, a smile curved Regina’s lips “Aye, mother, it is possible.” she answered softly, with wonder in her voice “For, I did wed Torren in body, heart and soul.”

Loria closed her eyes and hung her head. She felt a wave of sadness wash over her. Regina had conceived the child of that disfigured giant. “It is as I feared” she whispered “The cards have shown your child to me.”

But Regina placed her hand beneath Loria’s chin and raised her mother’s eyes to hers, once more. The young woman seemed to glow with life, as she smiled “Do not pity me, mother. Rejoice in the news of my child. I loved Torren truly and will cherish this babe as a gift from the Gods.”

Loria wiped a tear from her eyes “But what if the child is like his sire? What if he bears the curse…”

Regina stood up and offered her hand to Loria. “Come, Mother. Let us go to the wedding of Dominic and Shana Rose” she pulled Loria to her feet “The thought that I might bear a child in the likeness of my beloved, has given me cause to celebrate.”

Arm in arm, the two women made their way up the stone stairs, to the roof top garden of Ravenswood Castle. Both lost in their own thoughts.

The day was warm and clear. A ceiling of blue sky and puffy white clouds were the perfect back drop for the bright colors of blooming plants in the garden. The wedding guests murmured with awe as the handsome couple approached the priest, to be joined, forever, by their love. Lady Shana Rose wore a dress of the purest white, with a sash of scarlet, in honor of Ravenswood. Her flame red hair was loose and flowed down her back, with white blossoms, from the garden, as its only adornment. But the guests were surprised that the bride had chosen an unlikely addition to her wedding attire. The slender maid had placed a large, black cloak loosely around her shoulders; an unusual choice on such a pleasantly warm day.

The groom, Lord Dominic, was dressed entirely in black. The red sash of Ravenswood royalty graced his broad chest. His hair and beard were trimmed for the occasion and his black thigh boots shone in the sunlight. The handsome young lord chuckled and smiled with approval, upon his bride, as he noted the black, wool cape. Taking her small hand in his, Dominic led Shana Rose to the priest.

“Speak your vows before the good people of Ravenswood, my children.” the priest’s voice rose above the din of the crowd “And, in accordance with the laws of this clan, ye shall be wed.”

Shana turned to Angus, who at only five years old, was to be the ring bearer of the wedding party. The red haired lad proudly placed a lute, which was painted white and decorated with gold leaf, into the bride’s hands.

“I would sing my vows to you, Dominic” Shana said shyly “as befits my station, as a bard of Ravenswood.”

Dominic beamed with pride at his lady “I am honored, my love.”

 
A hush came over the crowd, as the first notes of a haunting love song, floated on the morning breeze. Shana’s eyes never left Dominic’s face, as she sang to him in a sweet, soft voice.

“For all the days that I shall live, will I be true.
In darkest night and sun’s first light, will I be true.
Stay by your side, until our cherished years are through.
I promise, my love, from this day forth, that I am bound to you.

In winter’s chill and summer’s warmth, will I be true.
From youth’s bright bloom to aged grey, will I be true.
Stay by your side, from evening star to morning dew.
I promise, my love, from this day forth, that I am bound to you.

I promise Dominic, my love, that I am bound to you.”

The notes from the lute slowly ended, leaving many a guest with tears to dry. And then, Dominic’s voice, deep and sincere, rang out for all his clansmen to hear.

“I am only a warrior, and no poet.” he began, to the rumble of chuckles from some of his knights “But from the moment that I first saw you, as a ghost, walking in circles and talking to yourself, I began to love you, Shana Rose.” he reached down and took her hand, slipping a gold band onto her finger “And in the moonlight of a snowy forest, did I seal my fate with a kiss.” Shana gazed up at Dominic, with tears in her eyes “And so, today, I want all those present to witness my vow; that I bind myself to you, Shana, for the rest of my days.”

Dominic drew Shana into his embrace and kissed her, for all to see. A resounding cheer went up from the warriors of Ravenswood, and Lady Loria dabbed a tear from her eyes, with a lace handkerchief. Amanda Rose, Katie Rose and Jeanne Rose, clung to their husbands hands and smiled, teary eyed, with joy.  Dominic then led his bride, through the guests, and down the stone steps, to the main dining hall for the wedding feast. The happy crowd of well wishers followed close upon their heels, and soon the sound of music drifted up, through the stairwell, into the garden.





Regina did not follow the wedding party from the garden on the roof to the dining hall. Instead, she wandered in the garden to a quiet corner, beside the ramparts, with a view of the forest. Below, she could see the wide expanse of green lawn. which surrounded the main entrance of the tower. Wedding guests were still arriving; too late for the ceremony, but early enough to join in the feast which followed.
With a sigh, Regina went to sit upon a narrow bench, beneath a potted tree. Her heart was filled with a mixture of joy and sorrow. If what her mother had said was true, Regina carried Torren’s child. If such a miracle were possible, then her love for her husband would bear fruit, and his line would not end with his death. She pictured, in her mind, the face of a dark eyed boy, with a handsome smile, and her heart soared with happiness. Then, the thought that Torren would never see his child, tore at her soul with ripping pain. She covered her face with her hands and doubled over, with the weight of her grief. A sob escaped her lips.

“Do not weep, Regina” said a woman’s soft voice, as a gentle hand touched her shoulder “There is always hope that your husband will return.”

Regina looked up to find Lady Kimmera Zion, the wife of Zion Black, standing beside her. Dressed in an emerald green gown, with a glimmering silk shawl of deep purple, the lovely, middle aged warrior smiled sadly at the young widow.

The tale of Kimmera and her husband, Zion, was well known through out the land of Britainia. Like Torren and Regina, their marriage had been a love match. Zion and Kimmera were the proud parents of ten beautiful children and the lord and lady of a sizable estate. Lord Zion Black was a celebrated warrior, who had been called to war many years ago. He had left, vowing not to return until the evil, which plagued his homeland, had been vanquished. His beautiful wife, Kimmera, had been left to raise their children and defend their home, while she awaited his return. Over the years, Lady Kimmera had, herself, become a legendry warrior, in order to protect her family and the lands, which she held for her Lord, Zion. Her life had not been easy. But despite the hardship, Kimmera Zion had never given up hope of her husband’s return, and was known to all as a loyal friend and an honorable fighter.

Lady Kimmera moved to the ramparts and turned to face Regina “Your tears will not bring him back, Regina. But, there is magic in your heart, if you would but listen.”

“I do not know how to find the magic anymore, my lady.” Regina confessed “I cannot accept that Torren is gone from this world forever.”

“Are you so sure that he is?” Kimmera asked. Her emerald ring gleamed in the sunlight “Do you see his face in your dreams, my child?”

“Aye” Regina answered “I see Torren when I sleep. He is strong and unharmed, but lost. He is beyond my reach in a dark place. An evil place. I can not explain, Kimmera.”

“There is no need to explain to me, my dear.” Kimmera said, as she turned to gaze out over the forest below. The breeze stirred her thick auburn hair, which was frosted with silver. Kimmera’s voice grew sad “I know my Zion is alive. I can feel it in my heart. And he visits me in my dreams. In dreams so real, that I know he lives still.” she turned back to Regina, wiping a tear from her eye “When you love someone so much that your soul touches theirs, you will always feel their presence in this world. No matter how many miles separate you. In your heart, you will always know.”

Regina rose from the bench and joined Lady Kimmera by the ramparts. Hope filled her heart, as she embraced the lovely bride of Zion Black “Thank you, my lady. You can not know the joy you have given me.”

Lady Kimmera Zion returned Regina’s hug “Be of good cheer, Regina, he will return.” she brushed a stray lock of dark hair from Regina’s brow and said “Let us join the wedding feast. There is time aplenty for sadness. But only one day to rejoice in your brother’s wedding day.”

With a smile, Regina shook her head “Please excuse me, my lady. I wish to remain here for a while longer. You have given me much to ponder.”

As Lady Kimmera turned to leave, she glanced down at the lawn below “How strange” she murmured “Look at that hind, Regina. It appears to be dancing in celebration.”

Regina followed Kimmera’s gaze and saw a deer, on the grass, several feet from the main entrance to the tower. The creature was prancing in a circle; its ears and tail twitched with excitement. Immediately, tears sprang to the Regina’s eyes, blurring her vision, as she remembered Torren feeding a hind, through the barred window of the armory. Again, Regina felt a pang of guilt for convincing her gentle, beloved, blacksmith that he must seek his destiny on the island of Fairwynds.

Regina dashed away her tears, with the back of her hand. When her vision cleared, she saw the figure of a tall man, dressed in a grey hooded robe, standing on the grass below. The hind scampered around the man, nipping playfully at the fabric of his robe.

“Could it be?” Regina breathed, not believing her eyes. “TORREN!” she called out in a loud, clear voice, which echoed across the forest.

The man below looked up and slowly drew the hood from his head, revealing raven black hair and a face, which had captured Regina’s heart weeks ago. “TORREN!!” she cried, as tears streamed down her face “DO NOT MOVE!!” she commanded. Regina gathered the skirt of her gown, and began to run towards the stairway, leading down from the garden. Her feet flew over the stone steps and past the wedding guests, who were crowded into the main dining hall, on the first floor. She pulled open one side of the heavy iron entrance door and came to a halt at the top of the stone steps.

Torren smiled at Regina, from across the lawn, as the hind disappeared into the trees. “My lady” his deep voice was like music to her ears “If you will have me...” he began.

With a cry of joy, Regina bounded down the stairs and over the lawn. She tackled Torren around the neck, knocking him back two full steps. His arms surrounded her slim form, lifting her high before him. They both laughed like children at play for a moment, and then, the couple became quite still, looking seriously into each others eyes.

“Where have you been, my love?” Regina whispered.

But instead of answering, Torren crushed his lips against hers. Their kiss deepened as  Regina’s fingers wove through Torren’s thick black hair. But the sound of cheering drew the lovers’ attention back towards the tower steps. Lord Augustus and Lady Loria stood upon the top step, looking quite stunned. Around them were two dozen wedding guests, applauding Regina and Torren. The dimple in Regina’s cheek appeared, as she took Torren’s arm and guided him to her parents.

“Mother, Father, I would like you to meet my husband.” Regina announced with tears shining in her eyes “Lord Torren of Fairwynds.”

And so it was, that the Lord of Ravenswood got his wish. For the following year, he became the proud grandfather to, not one, but two beautiful children. A lovely, flame haired girl, with her father’s courage and stubborn disposition. And, a handsome, good natured, boy with a dimple in his cheek, and hair as black as a raven’s wing.


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Epilogue To The Ancient Warrior’s Tale


“Where had Torren been for two moons?” the young, red haired woman asked, without looking up from the scroll which she wrote upon. The sound of a clock ticking and the crackling of a fire, in the hearth across the room, accompanied the soft scratching of quill on parchment “Uncle?”

Faelyn Rose stopped writing and glanced towards the large four poster bed, near the fire, where her uncle rested. Her great uncle was propped up against two soft pillows, beneath a fine velvet coverlet, as he read his favorite novel. The sun had gone down hours ago, but Faelyn was so engrossed in the tale, which her great uncle had been narrating, that she had lost all track of time. A loud snore answered her question. With a smile, Faelyn placed her quill in its holder, on the desk, and quietly pushed her chair back.

She stood up and stretched her cramped back and neck, sorry to end the tale for today, but glad for the chance to rise from her great uncle’s huge desk. Tomorrow she would return and find out the answer to the mystery of Torren’s disappearance.

Faelyn silently approached the bed, where her great uncle slept. She carefully removed the gold wire rimmed spectacles from his nose and took the unfinished novel out of his relaxed fingers.

Setting the two items on the night stand, beside the bed, Faelyn leaned over and placed a kiss upon the noble brow of the aged treasure hunter. She went to the hearth and added a log to the fire, before blowing out the candles. As she quietly closed the door to the bed chamber, Faelyn Rose stopped and, once more, gazed lovingly upon the ancient warrior.

“Good night, Uncle Seamus.” she whispered, into the dimly lit room, and then gently pulled the door closed behind her.




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Dear Reader,

  It was at this point, in 2006, that I began work on Tales Of Tavia. Although I still had plans to continue the Ancient Warrior's Tales, I found it impossible to write both stories at the same time.  I will continue to post Tavia rough drafts whenever I can, and again, thank you for visiting this web site.

Sincerely,
Faelyn Rose