Across the Sea (Islands in the Mist Series Book 2) Read online

  Across the Sea

  J.M. Hofer

  Contents

  Part I - Across the Sea

  J.M. Hofer

  Prologue

  Chapter One - A Fallen Star

  Chapter Two - Elffin

  Chapter Three - Clan of the Oaks

  Chapter Four - Beltane

  Chapter Five - The Question of Ula

  Chapter Six - A Selkie Belongs to the Sea

  Chapter Seven - Caer Gwythno

  Chapter Eight - Journey to the Lake

  Chapter Nine - The Realm of Tegid Voel

  Chapter Ten - Pathway of the Moon

  Chapter Eleven - A Wager for Ula

  Chapter Twelve - An Unfinished Journey

  Chapter Thirteen - Mererid

  Chapter Fourteen - An Undelivered Message

  Chapter Fifteen - A New Course

  Chapter Sixteen - Heart or Honor

  Chapter Seventeen - Penance

  Chapter Eighteen - Two Become Four

  Chapter Nineteen - The Twins

  Chapter Twenty - Voyage of the Ceffyl Dŵr

  Chapter Twenty-One - To Sea or Not to Sea

  Chapter Twenty-Two - Taliesin

  Chapter Twenty-Three - Call of the Crossroads

  Part II - Across the Sea

  J.M. Hofer

  Chapter Twenty-Four - Something in the Woods

  Chapter Twenty-Five - Hraban the Terrible

  Chapter Twenty-Six - No Dominion

  Chapter Twenty-Seven - An Invitation

  Chapter Twenty-Eight - Smoke and Fire

  Chapter Twenty-Nine - Against the Tide

  Chapter Thirty - Beneath the Raven’s Wings

  Chapter Thirty-One - Return of the Ceffyl Dŵr

  Chapter Thirty-Two - Troubled Waters

  Chapter Thirty-Three - The Battle for Mynyth Aur

  Chapter Thirty-Four - Across the Sea

  Chapter Thirty-Five - The Return of the Brisingamen

  Chapter Thirty-Six - Freya’s Price

  Chapter Thirty-Seven - The Wrath of Woden

  Chapter Thirty-Eight - Arhianna’s Secret

  Chapter Thirty-Nine - Freya’s Temple

  Chapter Forty - Oaks for Ravens

  Chapter Forty-One - Son of Hraban

  Character Index

  AELHAEARN (ill HAY arn) - “iron brow.” Outcast from the Oaks and cursed by Arawn for betraying his clan.

  ARAWN (air-a-oon) - Lord of the Otherworld/Underworld, Annwn (AH-noon)

  ARIANRHOD (ah-ree-AHN-rhohd) - Arian = silver, and Rhod = wheel or disc. Welsh moon goddess

  ARHIANNA (ar-ee-AH-nah) – form of Arhianrhod. Daughter of Bran and Lucia, twin sister to Gareth.

  AVETA (ah-VET-a) - goddess of healing waters and childbirth, Lucia’s aunt and closest friend

  BRAN - “raven,” Chieftain of the Oaks, husband to Lucia

  BROKKR (BROK-er) - one who works with metal, blacksmith

  BUDDUG (BOO-dig) - Welsh form of Boudicca, fierce queen of the Icendi tribe, who led an uprising against the occupying Roman forces. Maur’s wife.

  CADOC (KAH-dok) – “battle.” Former Chieftain of the South. Bran’s step-father.

  CALEDGWYN (kal-ed-GWIN) - legendary sword, forged by Eircheard, wielded by Bran

  CAMULOS (KAH-mulos) - Gaulish god associated with the Roman god, Mars. Lucia’s former husband, presumed dead

  CEFFYL DŴR (KEFF-il-door) - “water horse.” Tegid Voel’s ship

  CERRIDWEN (KER-id-wen) - consort to Arawn, Goddess of the Underworld, Keeper of the Sacred Cauldron

  CREIRWY (CREE-wee) - “token or jewel.” Daughter of Cerridwen and Tegid Voel DYRNWYN (DUHRN-win) - white-hilt, sacred sword of the South, which ignites in flames when used righteously against evil

  EIRWEN (AYR-wen) - “snow white.” Mother of Neirin, widow of Belenus of the East.

  EINON (AY-nen) – “anvil.” Uncle to Bran on his mother’s side

  ELAYN (ee-LAYN) - maiden aspect of the Goddess, High Priestess of the Isle

  ELFFIN (ELL-fin) - possibly derived from the Latin albus, meaning "white." Son of Gwythno Garanhir, foster-father to Taliesin, Lord of Gwythno

  FREYA (FRAY-uh) – “lady.” Saxon/Norse goddess of fire and love, and chooser of the slain, twin-sister to Freyr, god of prosperity and fertility

  FREYR (FRERE) – “lord.” Saxon/Norse god of the Vanir ruling prosperity and fertility, twin-brother of Freya

  GARETH (GAH-reth) – “spear-master.” Son of Bran and Lucia, twin brother to Arhianna.

  GETHEN (GETH-in) – “dark, swarthy.” Bran’s faithful steed.

  GWION (GWEE-un) - fair boy, little innocent. Son of Aveta who sacrificed himself to defeat Cerridwen.

  GWYTHNO GARANHIR (GWITH-no Garan-HEER) – Lord of Gwythno, father of Elffin. True Welsh spelling is Gwyddno, however,“dd” is pronounced “th” in Welsh, and this is quite difficult for English readers to grasp. The spelling has therefore been changed for the telling of this tale, and forgiveness is asked from any Welsh readers.

  HRABAN (huh-RAB-n) - “raven.” Jutish earl, father of Bran.

  IDRIS (IHD-riss) - “ardent, impulsive lord/ardent master.” Chief Warrior of the Oaks, summer lover to Creirwy.

  IRWYN (ER-win) - “lover of the sea.” Saxon shipbuilder, close ally and friend of Bran and Elffin

  ISLWYN (IH-sil-winn) - “below the grove.” Druid advisor to Bran of the Oaks and guardian of the Sacred Grove of the Crossroads.

  LUCIA (loo-CHEE-ah) - “from the light, born in the first hours.” Gifted with the Sight, granddaughter to High Priestess Rowan of the Isle, wife of Bran, mother to Arhianna and Gareth.

  LLYGODEN (HLUH-go-den) - “mouse.” Young Sister of the Isle.

  MABYN (MAY-bin) - “youth.” Wise-woman of Gwythno, midwife, healer

  MAUR (MAWR) - “large,” closest friend to Bran

  MERERID (meh-REH-rid) – “pearl.” Youngest daughter to Garanhir of Gwythno

  NEIRIN (NIGH-rin) - “all gold, precious.” Son of the late chieftain Belanus, fine tracker and member of Bran’s council

  RAGNA (RAHG-na) - “advice of the gods.” Wise-woman of Hraban’s clan

  SEREN (SEH-rin) – “star.”

  TALIESIN - (TAL-ee-ESS-in) – “golden brow.” Child of Cerridwen and Arawn, soul of Gwion, greatest bard in all of Wales.

  TEGID VOEL (TEH-gid VOLE) - giant and spirit of Lake Tegid, known today as Lake Bala, father of Creirwy and Morvran by Cerridwen

  ULA (OO-la) – “gem of the sea.” Selkie and foster-mother of Taliesin, beloved of Elffin.

  PROLOGUE

  My bones scream, slowly being pulled away from one another, tearing my flesh as they open…

  I cannot bear it.

  In defiance, I cry out to the sea, my rage and pain pouring into her like poison. She takes them quietly, without complaint, rocking me in her waves, mercifully lifting the weight off my bones…my poor, burdened bones, desperate for relief.

  I will kill this babe when it comes! I’ll break its neck and leave it on the rocks for the seabirds to peck at! The twins were not as painful as this. Or have I forgotten?

  The pain subsides, for a grateful moment. I peer down through eyes stinging with salt. The water around me is filled with blood, so much blood….but the mother sends her waves and pulls the blood away.

  I shake. My teeth rattle in my mouth, clattering like pebbles thrown down a mountainside. My nails are blue, my skin red and raw from the cold, but I dare not leave her water. No. My bones need her. I need her…

  Again, the pain comes, and again I cry out, but this time will be the last.

  I rip myself open, like squ
eezing an overripe fruit, knowing my bones and skin will split and everything inside of me will spill out, but it must be done. It feels as if everything inside of me will burst—my stomach, my heart, my breath, my entrails—all of it, all into the water. Here I will bleed to death, a sack of flesh and broken bones, like a dead carcass feasted upon and abandoned by its predator, discarded and left to float in the sea, but it will be better than this pain.

  The babe’s head finally emerges from my womb, like the sun when it first rises above the hills. A golden light shines forth from it, illuminating the waters around us.

  His head is out, and soon his shoulders. I reach down and pull him from me, ready to throw him upon the rocks, but I cannot…I look down into the water, into the shining face of the babe, and find I have not the will to do it.

  Tears come, salt water pouring into salt water. They will not stop.

  No, I cannot do it, but I won’t be burdened any longer. Weak and broken, I chew through the cord that binds us and loose the babe from me, letting the sea take him.

  My time upon the earth as Cerridwen is over. My penance is done, my debt repaid. Let the Great Mother choose his destiny.

  PART I

  CHAPTER ONE

  A Fallen Star

  A light beckoned Ula from far off—a tiny golden point shining in the water, as if a star had fallen from the heavens and drifted beneath the waves of the sea.

  She swam toward it, unable to resist her curiosity. She was not the only one drawn to the strange light—fish of all sizes clustered around it, and even the seabirds could not help themselves, diving down from above for an underwater look.

  The light drifted into a kelp forest—a shining beacon within the long ribbons of yellow and green, casting luminous beams through the water. What is it? She pushed the kelp aside, forcing the smaller creatures to scatter, until she came face to face with the light’s source.

  A babe! His clear blue eyes were wide open, staring at her. The wee thing kicked its little legs, stretching his arms toward her. A son of man, beneath the sea, who requires no breath? How can this be? She let him latch on to her and swam to the surface to look for the boat he must have fallen out of, but saw nothing.

  Ah, but he is a vulnerable little thing, with no fat or fins upon his little body! He will surely die out here with no one to protect him.

  The baby clung to her as she plunged through the kelp, shielding him from harm with the bulk of her large body. She avoided the open water, wary of predators. She swam as fast as she dared toward the safer, shallower waters, where the river emptied into the sea. There, she could leave the water without being seen, shed her skin and see the babe to safety.

  Before long, she felt the waters changing and mixing—salt and sweet water dancing together as she moved into the current of the river. The sea pulled at the babe like a jealous mother, trying to seize him back, but the river fought her for its new prize. Though Ula did everything she could to protect him from the warring currents, they were too strong for either of them. She felt the babe’s little grip release and watched in horror as he disappeared.

  With a vice in her stomach, she plunged through the water, looking frantically for any sign of his light. Unable to find him, she surrendered to the currents, hoping they would take her to the same place they had taken him.

  Hopefully, it would not be too late.

  CHAPTER TWO

  Elffin

  Again, Elffin and the river man pulled in the nets from his father’s salmon weir, and again, they held nothing but a few scrawny fish. Their worthless glassy eyes stared blankly up at him, as if mocking his misfortune. He glanced over at the river man, who avoided his eyes by looking down at his feet.

  Elffin wondered in earnest if he had unwittingly offended a witch or fae of some kind, but he could think of no one he had mistreated, witch or otherwise—his father had taught him never to anger the folk of the field nor tempt the wrath of the gods. Though he was not nearly as superstitious as his father, he was always respectful, nonetheless.

  It just makes no sense! Unless the sea feels she’s not taken enough from me, and would deny me this as well. He heaved a defeated sigh, thinking back on the tragedy. Earlier in the year, his father had granted him stewardship of Canolbarth, one of the many lowlands he ruled. Elffin had spent much effort and coin building his castle. When it was finished, it was the envy of all the other lords of the lowlands. He was later criticized for having made it too beautiful, for it was rumored the sea herself became envious of it. One night, with the full moon reigning in the sky, she rose up at high tide and unfurled her watery skirts through every door and window, like a wealthy uninvited guest, who knows she cannot be refused. She let them float to rest permanently beneath his roof, claiming every stone for herself, and there she had remained.

  Ah, yes, the sea. He had learned long ago how fickle and cruel she could be, but he would not want her any other way. She was like a woman consumed with passion—completely serene one moment, her eyes calm and full of love, but in a flash could be churning with anger, screaming and hurling things at your head. No prudent man would take such a woman for his wife, but, by the gods, she was the sort who filled his thoughts while he lay in bed at night. Such was the sea, and Elffin loved her for it.

  His devotion had not been reciprocated, however. She had taken everything from him on that fateful night, leaving him no choice but to return to his father’s house as poor as the day he was born. “Born under a bad sign, you were, child,” Seithenin, his father’s head of council had said to him upon his return. He had never gotten along with the smug old wretch, who had also been his tutor growing up, but never had he despised him more than he had on that day. He vowed to himself that the first thing he would do when he became Lord of Garanhir would be to dismiss him.

  Unlike Seithenin, his father had been sympathetic toward him. In an effort to help him turn his luck, he granted him the first catch of Calan Mai, the first of May, from his most prized salmon weir. It was a great honor, traditionally believed to bring great blessings and fortune in the coming year. So far, though, it had yielded nothing to him.

  Elffin dreaded the idea of returning empty-handed. He murmured a prayer and bid the river man toss the nets out again, shutting the image of Seithenin out of his mind. Instead, he focused the beauty of the nets as they opened up widely like glittering man-o-wars, sailing out over the river.

  For another hour, they pulled in empty nets, until Elffin could not take it anymore. He placed a hand on his companion’s shoulder and said, “Enough. Go home to your family—it’s no use.”

  The man shook his head, his brow furrowed with concern. “Let me try again, my lord. I’ve checked the nets, they’re sound…I just don’t understand!”

  Elffin patted him on the back. He fears he’ll be made to pay the price for not catching anything. “No, no—go home. Don’t worry about today. I promise your life will change in no way on account of this.”

  His words seemed to soothe the man somewhat, but it took a bit more coaxing to convince him that no harm would come to him. Finally, at Elffin’s insistence, he left the nets behind and set off for home.

  It was nearly twilight. Elffin sat down on the muddy bank in defeat, gazing along the river’s silver glinting path to where it flowed into the ocean and became hazy. He looked down at the empty net in his red, raw hands. One more time.

  He stood up, cast out a net and whispered a silent prayer as he waited. He kept his eyes on the horizon as he pulled the net back in, not wanting to look down, for there had been no tell-tale yanking upon his fingers that spoke of the capture of strong salmon. Born under a bad sign, you were. He heard the nasty words in his mind again, as if the sour old man were right next to him on the bank, mocking him.

  Just when he thought things could get no worse, a sight emerged from the water that sickened his stomach with horror. A babe, tangled in the nets!

  “No, no, no….” Elffin shook his head, as if it would rid his eyes
of the terrible sight. Dear gods, is my catch to be a dead child? How many more curses will I be made to endure? How have I managed to offend you so gravely? His heart pounded in his throat as he carefully pulled in the net and beheld his unfortunate catch.

  It was a boy—and of the Fae, from the look of him. The child’s skin and hair were so white they seemed to glow, as if radiating light from within. It was such a strange sight, Elffin felt a bit frightened to touch him. His fingers shook as he untangled him. Did he fall from a boat? Or crawl too close to the riverbank? Perhaps he was unwanted by his mother and thrown into the river?

  Elffin worked diligently until he managed to free the boy from the net. He clutched the child to his breast in a rush of pity and despair. It was then that he thought he heard the babe take a breath. His heart leapt. He held the boy out in front of him to be sure. Shocked by the cold air on his wet skin, the boy let out a healthy cry.

  A wave of gratitude rushed through Elffin’s body at knowing he would not have to carry the burden of finding a drowned child in his nets for the rest of his days. “Thank the gods! Thank the gods!” He clutched the babe to his chest again and wrapped him tightly in his cloak, comforting him. Soon the babe was quiet and content, his radiant face peeking out and smiling up at him.

  “Taliesin, you shall be called,” he proclaimed, in awe of the babe’s radiant face.

  He held the child close as he made his way toward his father’s house, more than satisfied with his catch.

  ***

  Ula watched as the man untangled the little man-pup from his net and walked away. She surfaced cautiously and pulled herself out of the water on the opposite bank of the river, scooting her body toward the trees where she could shed her skin without being seen. Though the man-pup was now with his own kind, she felt responsible for him. She could not return to the sea without knowing he was safe.

  She followed them from a safe distance, keeping herself hidden behind rocks and trees. She passed around the back of the river man’s hut, where she found a bit of laundry hanging on a line. Now that she had ventured back into the world of men, she would need clothes. She took a long tunic to cover herself.