Now today’s lyrics, from ‘One Tree Hill’ could have taken me a million places. It’s one of my favourite places on earth and I was wed beneath its gaze. But the Muse took me back in time and to a Shadow of Avalon. Everyone has been waiting years for more from the Arthurian kids, to meet Auta, Nyssa and the like. So today you get a little glimpse of things to come. Maybe in the third instalment of Shadow of Avalon. Enjoy a dose of feels. Oh, Myr, you sweet idiot.
See the Sun go Down in your Eyes
One Tree Hill. It had always been One Tree Hill. As the old tree began to die a new one was transplanted to grow in its place, so it had been for more generations than anyone could remember.
Her family had tended the hill for those generations. They had cared for the trees and kept the ruins from being lost. It was said this spot was where the great Goddess of the moon Diana had come when she left the shores of hot lands. It was said on this hill she had birthed the Blue Lady. Brighid was named for the Blue Lady. When her parents had passed that harsh winter, it had become Brighid’s task to tend to the tree and the ruins. And the memory of the Goddesses.
And that was what she had been doing when the riders approached.
They wore no markings to say whose men they were. They were too well armed and armoured to not be in the employ of a rich lord. That they rode without badges proved they were riding for mischief. But what reason could they have for riding up One Tree Hill? A tree and ruins and a young woman with little to her name but her faith and her healing skills.
“Are you the one known as Brighid?”
“Who asks?” Brighid was already off her knees, hands covered in dirt from weeding the flowers that circled the tree well out from its branches. Flowers to bring the bees to the hilltop. She had no weapons to take on these men. Not that it would have made a difference had she had a sword to wield or not.
The man who had spoken, clearly the leader, dismounted his horse. He was a huge man, with a ruddy face and all the marks of cruelty around him. A soldier who took pleasure in the pain he inflicted and the pain he took.
He struck her.
“When I speak, you answer. Are you Brighid?”
Brighid cradled her cheek and nodded. “I am. What do you want with me?”
“You are a means to an end.” The man replied.
The man took her to the tree and she was tied to it. Rough rope tightly bound her and no matter what she said, how she cried or screamed, she was ignored. So she grew silent to learn more. Men such as these never kept their own confidences.
“The wizard will bring the boy if he values her life. Not long now, though. Sun’s already setting.” The scrawniest of the men said, picking at his teeth with the end of a small dagger.
Brighid sighed. She knew not only who they spoke of but also that soon One Tree Hill would have no one of her family to tend to it. If her life depended on this, she was doomed.
Once Brighid had been married. She had been in love. A man who had destiny to spare and whose visions had taken him to an orphan boy, a soul reborn, a boy who might become a man to bring some peace to the lands. The Isles were a land built on war and fighting and this did not seem to be changing.
The boy could bring some peace and balance. He had been three when Dafydd had seen him. He would be eleven now. Eight years since the vision. Eight years since Dafydd had left saying that no love could take him from his duty.
The boy mattered more than any other. Dafydd would not come. Dafydd would not save her.
Brighid closed her eyes and began to make her peace. She would return, she already knew this. The cycle would continue as it always had. Just as it had in their last life where he had chosen his duty to the boy, Arthur as he had been. He would do the same now.
And she forgave him.
She died with her heart free of hate.
Dafydd watched in the flames. He was not even there to hold her as he had on the shores of the waters of Avalon. Again she had died for him and his heart broke.
Myr came out of the memory of a lifelong gone and Gwyn held him as his body shook,
“There, brother. Things are not as they once were, you need not sacrifice her this time. Go to Auta. She needs you.”
Myr looked up at Gwyn and smiled. “You are so wise and so hopeful. I fear that destiny is against us.”
“Nothing is ever so certain,” Gwyn said. “If Arthur, Lancelot and Guinevere can make peace with each other, then Myrddin can keep his Niniane. And if it is not to be, then go now and be there when she needs you. Choose her now.”
“Yes, bossy boots.” Myr poked his tongue out Gwyn but he got up and said his farewells to go in search of the woman who held the soul of sweet Brighid but did not know it. He would choose her, he owed her that in this life. He owed her far more, but this was a start.