The Seeking: Part XXI

"What, by all the gods, am I supposed to learn from that?"

Wulfstan took a swallow of mead and glared at Duaderyn. The maid was gone, escorted from the room by a pair of the Druid's acolytes who'd also removed the brazier with great care. Except for the fading scent of the burned herbs there was no sign that anything unusual had occurred. Now the Saxon lord and his advisor sat on stools by the room's small hearth as Wulfstan tried to understand the words of the prophecy.

Duaderyn hoped this was not going to take all night.

"`The Sithryn realm from this world goes when a blackthorn is borne by the silver rose.' " Wulfstan shook his head. "What sort of idiot raving is this? You are sure she can see the future?"

"She foretold the priest's death, didn't she? Her words were good enough on that, weren't they?" Duaderyn set his drink aside and moved his hands closer to the fire. "She merely says the words, milord. It is up to you to understand them and then act upon them. But allow me to help you in this. I believe that the `silver rose' refers to Lord Evaynan's clan."

Wulstan grunted at that. "Fine. But there's no Blackthorn clan that I know of in these parts." He squinted against the firelight. "I suppose I could send out men to seek someone by that name. So what does it mean about a "Blackthorn is borne by a Silver Rose?"

Duaderyn fumed inwardly. Leading Wulfstan to a desired conclusion was always a tiring exercise, but dealing with a Wulfstan who was in his cups was exasperating. The Druid's voice betrayed none of his impatience as he steered the conversation carefully where it must go. "I suppose it's meant in usual sense, as in the way a child is borne by its mother."

"A child? A child will cause the fall of the Green Silences?"

"Not necessarily a child in age, but aye, a son or daughter of both lineages; a child, perhaps, of your line."

Wulfstan's laugh boomed out and a bit of mead spilled out of his cup onto the floor. "Duaderyn, you amuse me. My mating with one of Evaynan's women would be like a lap dog courting a wolfhound. Besides, I'm not a Blackthorn."

"But you could be, milord. Family names have changed in the past. As for the rest, the maid merely foretold the future, she did not say when it would come to pass. You must think and plan as the head of your family, looking forwards to a success you might not live to see. The prophecy might not be fulfilled for several generations."

Wulfstan stared thoughtfully at the fire. "The blackthorn tree has some significance to you druids, doesn't it?"

"It's sacred to Morrigan, the Goddess of War. It symbolizes cleansing, healing and death."

"I like that." Wulfstan's smile was fierce. "I'll say I've had a dream, that an angel bade me change my family name from Thorn to Blackthorn, so that my land and people would once more know prosperity. And they will, druid, for the Blackthorns will cleanse the world of the Sithryn, and by their death heal our fortunes! What say you, Duaderyn? Do you care if I make you into an angel for my own purposes?"

"I've been many things when such is called for, milord. An angel shall be yet another, and only you and I will know the truth, shall we not, as we do in other matters?"

Wulfstan nodded, then took a long swallow of mead, staring silently for a few minutes at the fire before speaking once more. "There's still the difference in size; the Sithryn are so much taller than us."

"You're of Saxon blood, milord. They are a tall people themselves, as humans go. It's the brides your forefathers chose from among the Britons that has caused your family to be smaller and darker in recent days."

"Then I will arrange marriages for my sons with the Norse or Danes. Perhaps my grandsons or their sons will stand taller and more on a level with the Sithryn. And I shall find scholars to tutor them and train them in all things, including magic, for I suspect the prophecy will depend upon in the end, eh? Come, a drink to the future!" He signaled a servant to come and refill their cups. "Then we'll discuss bigger wives for my sons."

An hour later, when Wulfstan had drank too much mead and had staggered off to bed, Duaderyn the Druid slipped out of the room into the dimly lit hallway, nodding briefly to the warrior standing guard at his lord's door. The guard watched as the robed figure walked off down the corridor, then he moved his fingers in the sign to ward off evil.

Perhaps it had been a trick of the flickering torchlight, but as the mysterious priest left Wulfstan's chambers, it seemed for a brief second his eyes had shone red.

*********

"So in the ninth year of his rule, Lord Wulfstan Thorn proclaimed a visitation from an angel had revealed to him how he must change his family name to Blackthorn in order for the fortune of Thornhaven to change and the people prosper. This he did on St Bridget's Day, or Imbolc as the pagans call it, with much celebration. On this same day he announced the betrothal of his two sons to the daughters of a lord from the Dane Mark, and there was held a great feast in their honor.

Despite an angel having come to him in a dream, Wulfstan did not take this as a sign to restore the church and send for a new priest, but rather kept the druid sorcerer by his side. Noticing this, in time the faithful came to believe it was not an angel that visited Lord Blackthorn, but a demon….

…Wulfstan was succeeded by his eldest son Cynwulf, who had close ties to the Danes, his wife's folk, some of whom settled in Thornhaven. Cynwulf ruled for twenty-one years and was well liked by his people. During his rule the church was restored in Thornhaven and a priest arrived to tend it, but Cynwulf himself kept his father's druid by his side, and turned to him for advice and council instead of God…

Halfdan the Tall ruled after his father Cynwulf…"

- The Chronicles of Thorn