Viking Cruises To Cuba
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In the year 1066, when the Normans invaded England and took it over for their king William I, one of his first acts as the lord was to forbid Christianity in Ireland. This angered the Irish people who had been practicing Christian worship under their own laws since before they were Christians.
The English king’s soldiers tried to force the Irish into the church but most refused. They said that God would not allow them to be forced against their will like slaves or sheep. Some Irishmen went so far as to say that if he did not return to Ireland by Christmas Day they would go back to paganism and live like animals again.
King William knew that he could never take the country without fighting the Irish. So he gave them a choice: either become Christians or leave Ireland. Those who left became known as the “Sons of Erin” or the Gaelic Irish. The Irish stayed behind and fought on.
After three years of a bitter war between the two sides, King William finally won the victory. He forced the Irish to swear loyalty to him and make him their new ruler. Many of the Irish refused. Instead, they fled to Wales and settled there where they formed what is now known as the Welsh-Irish community. There are still many Irish communities in Wales today.
The Irish continued to practice their old religion after leaving Ireland. And while some of the more devout converted to Christianity, others remained faithful to their old beliefs. For generations this group lived among the Welsh, worshipping their gods and passing down the ancient Celtic ways of life from father to son.
For centuries those of the Old Ways have survived. But in recent years the Old Ones have begun to vanish. Their numbers have dwindled and their powers weakened. As their influence wanes, the world becomes a darker place.
Even though they no longer lead the lives they once did, the Old Ones are determined to protect their way of life. If the Old Ones cannot keep the Old Ways alive, then no one can.
But even if we survive, how long until we die?
– From A Brief History of the Old Ways (by Lleu Poldark)
“…and here you see the ruins of an ancient temple dedicated to the goddess Eirinn. She used to be the goddess of the sea but she has recently been supplanted by the goddess Brenna whose name means ‘sea.’ Her priests built the temple here because they believed that her power grew strongest at the center of all things.”
Llewelyn nodded as he followed me around the crumbling stone walls and pillars of the ruined temple. We’d spent the afternoon touring the island with my friend Gwen, learning about its history. It was a small island off the coast of Cornwall and was famous for its standing stones which dated back thousands of years.
At least half of the standing stones had been destroyed during the Norman conquest of the area but a few still stood along with other relics of the Old Way such as the ruined temples of Eirinn and Brenna.
“That looks familiar,” I said quietly. “I’ve seen pictures of this same ruin.”
“It’s a common motif,” Llewelyn agreed. “You’ll find similar ruins all across the British Isles.”
“Do you know why?” I asked. “Why do these sites continue to exist even though the Old Ways are gone?”
“Because they’re always reborn,” Llewelyn explained. “When a society changes too much, someone always returns to bring back the old ways.”
“What happened to the priest who found the ruins?”
He looked surprised. “A priest? No, he died years ago. His descendants sold the land to a developer.”
“They couldn’t have known what lay beneath the ground, could they? How could they possibly sell it knowing that something important was buried underneath?”
“People don’t understand what’s happening in our world anymore. People think that nothing matters any longer, that everything will eventually be forgotten.”
“Then maybe we should remember,” I suggested. “Maybe we should tell people what lies hidden beneath our feet.”
“No,” Llewelyn answered. “If we tell anyone, we’ll lose the very thing that makes us different.”
I considered what he said. What did he mean exactly? Did he truly believe that the Old Ways would disappear forever if people knew what was under their feet? Or did he just want to maintain his privacy?
As we walked toward the beach, I remembered the strange feeling that I’d had when I first arrived at the site. It wasn’t the only time I felt it. Had I imagined it or was it really the lingering presence of the Old Ways? Was I wrong to want people to discover this lost part of history?
Or was I right?
***
I was tired of being alone.
And so, despite my reservations, I decided to join the Order. My training began immediately. It took place over several months at night and every day during the day. It consisted mostly of physical exercises like wrestling and sparring with wooden weapons. All of the members of the order were skilled fighters and taught me much about hand-to-hand combat. They also trained me in magic.
Magic, however, was not my passion. In fact, it terrified me. Yet, I needed magic to stay ahead of the men trying to kill me. The Order’s magic master taught me how to summon fireballs and control the elements. He told me how to create shields of flame and lightning bolts.
When we weren’t practicing magic, I studied runes and talismans. Some were simple and easily memorized; others required hours of meditation before they could be deciphered.
In between spells and chants, I learned about the Order itself. It was founded in the tenth century by King Stephen of England. Its purpose was to preserve the ancient ways of the Old Ones. Members were sworn to secrecy. To learn what they did, one must become a member. Only then would they learn from the masters of the Order.
The Order’s headquarters were on Dartmoor where many of the members lived year-round. Other members traveled the countryside, studying the Old Ways and sharing them with whoever wished to hear. There were dozens of other orders throughout Europe.
Most of those belonged to the Roman Catholic Church while others were based upon the teachings of the Druids. The most powerful of the groups came from Scotland and Ireland. Their powers were formidable. As far as I understood it, each of those groups was led by a high king who claimed sovereignty over all of the lands of the Old Ways. And each of them had their own god.
But there was no way I wanted to go there. Not yet.
For now, I would remain here on Dartmoor with the Order. But I wouldn’t forget about my father. If I ever discovered anything more, I would pass it on to him.
So, for a while, I would keep myself busy learning magic.
And preparing for war.
***
Dusk settled into the evening as we rode south toward London. I sat behind Richard’s horse thinking about what we might encounter once we got closer to the city. I hoped it was nothing more than an ambush.
We left the main road after crossing a bridge spanning a small river. Soon afterward, we reached another settlement called Buckland. From there, we continued past a village named Beggar’s Ford and followed a winding dirt path until we came within sight of the gates of London.
“This is where we part ways,” Richard said. “There’s still a long ride ahead of us tomorrow and I need to rest.”
“You can come to the castle, you know,” I offered. “It isn’t far from here.”
Richard shook his head. “No, thanks. This has been a great pleasure but I’m going to stick close to town tonight.”
“Why?”
“I’ve heard some rumors that trouble is brewing. That the Order may try to take advantage of the unrest.”
“How do you plan to get out of this mess if they catch up to you?”
His eyes narrowed. “They won’t. They don’t even have any idea who I am. I’m sure of it.”
That made sense. How would the Order find a man who didn’t exist? “All right. We’re leaving in the morning. You’ll probably want to sleep in your room tonight. Wake early and make ready to leave.”
He nodded. “Thank you again, Mordecai. For everything.”
“Don’t thank me. Just watch yourself.”
When he mounted his horse, he looked back at me. His gaze lingered on mine. I couldn’t tell if it was because he cared about me or whether it was merely the natural instinct of a man protecting his homeland against invaders. Either way, I liked it.
“Good luck, Mordecai. I hope we meet again someday.”
I waved farewell and watched him ride away.
After a few moments, I turned my attention to the fortress. It was huge. At least three times larger than I’d imagined. Even though the sun was setting, the torches lining its walls burned brightly. Shadows danced across the stone walls making it appear like a dark beast crouched along the banks of the Thames.
I dismounted and walked through the gate alone. My heart pounded inside my chest. What lay beyond that wall? Would it be safe to stay the night? Or should I return to my father’s house in Bristol?
Then, without warning, a figure stepped into view. It stood atop a low mound. The shadows cast by the torchlight hid the details of her face, so I couldn’t tell which of the women from the forest she resembled. Her hair shimmered like fire and her eyes glowed as bright as stars.
She wore a cloak fashioned from the skins of beasts, each cut down the middle and sewn together to form a single garment. Beneath the hood, strands of hair fell around her shoulders. A silver dagger hung from her waist. She smiled and beckoned me forward.
Without thinking, I started walking towards her.
Someone grabbed hold of my arm and yanked me backward.
My attacker was one of the guards. He must not have recognized me. In fact, none of them did. All of them were staring at me. One held a sword; the other had drawn a knife. Both men were big and strong looking, but I doubted either would be able to overpower me.
“What are you doing?” the guard holding me asked.
“Going to see Lady Silverthorn.”
As soon as the words left my mouth, Lady Silverthorn appeared from nowhere. “Mordecai!”
She embraced me with surprising force, then pulled back and peered into my eyes. “Are you all right?”
“Yes,” I replied.
Lady Silverthorn’s eyes widened. “The Order found you? Are they coming here?”
“Not exactly.”
Her eyebrows rose. “Well, let’s get you out of here.” Then, before I could protest, she pushed me toward the gate. As soon as we passed beneath the portcullis, she turned and disappeared.
The End