Clíodhna has three children and a missing husband, and now finds herself in the middle of growing quarrels with the new church.
When she encounters a strange man in the woods near her house, she discovers a kindred soul, someone to teach her to harness her own innate talents and powers.
At the new church, she develops a friendship with one of the monks, and shares many conversations with him about life, philosophy, and theology. For once, it seems her life is becoming a thing to be savored rather than a thing to simply survive.
Her new teacher, however, clashes with the ideals of the church. Her relationship with the monk is another source of conflict when a new church leader arrives.
A few rash decisions means she must now change her own fate. That means choosing between her happiness—perhaps even her life—and her family. It might be better for all involved if she leaves her children with a trusted friend and disappears into another world.
Can she flee a bad situation, leaving her children to the mercies of fate? Or does she have the power and ability to face the danger herself?
AGE OF DRUIDS
Druid’s Brooch Series, #9
Christy Nicholas
Published by Tirgearr Publishing
Author Copyright 2020 Christy Nicholas
Cover Art: Cora Graphics (www.coragraphics.it)
Editor: Sharon Pickrel
Proofreader: Jessica Corra
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be resold or given away. If you would like to share this book, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not given to you for the purpose of review, then please log into the publisher’s website and purchase your own copy.
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This story is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, incidents are products of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual events, locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
PUBLISHER’S NOTE
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DEDICATION
Sometimes that which we pursue is not what we truly need or want. I dedicate this novel to those who realize their dreams are sometimes unwise and turn instead to nurture their own lives and loves.
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
I give thanks to my wonderful authors’ group, who give fantastic feedback on my work, and my beta readers such as Ian Morris.
Siobhan of Bitesize Irish is always helpful with the Irish pronunciations of the native words I use.
Thanks to Walker Metalsmiths of New York for the use of their wonderful brooch for inspiration for the cover art.
And with this final book in my Druid’s Brooch series, I thank my husband, Jason, for all his patience and support.
PRONUNCIATIONS GUIDE
People
Adhna — Eye-na
Aebh — Ayv
Aileran — AY-leh-ran
Áine — Awn-ye
Ammatán — Om-ah-tawn
Aoibheall — Ee-vul
Beacáin — bee-KAYan
Bodach — Bud-ukh
Brighid — Breed
Cailleach: The hag goddess — CAY-lukh
Ceatha — KAY-he
Cerul — che-RULE
Clíodhna — KLEE-uh-na
Éanna — EY-naa
Eógan — OH-wen
Fachtna — FAWKT-nah
Gabha — GAV-uh
Grian — GREE-ahn
Grimnaugh — GRIM-naw
Lugh — Loo
Macha — MAKH-ah
Manannán — Ma-na-NAWN
Maol Odhrán — MAY-ohl O-rawn
Micoll — MY-coal
Oisinne — oh-SHEEN
Tirechan — TEER-i-shan
Tuireann — TOO-reen
Wannaig — WAN-ig
Places
An tSionainn: The River Shannon — an TAN-een
Baile Átha Luain: Athlone — BAWL-yuh A-ha LOO-in
Tír na nÓg: Land of the Ever Young — Cheer nah Nohg
Other
Aos Sídhe: The Fair Folk — Ays shee
Bealteaine: Start of summer months — BYALL-tin-uh
Druí: A priest or priestess of the old gods — DROO-ee
Faoladh: a werewolf — FAY-lah
Fir Bolg: The people who lived in Éire before the Túatha Dé Danaan: People of the Bag — feer bol-ug
Géis: A curse or requirement — gesh
Grugach/Grugachann: A household Fae — GROO-gakh/GROO-gah-khan
Léine/Léinte: A long belted tunic (singular/plural) — Lay-na/Layn-tah
Túatha Dé Danaan: Fairies or people in Ireland before the Sons of Mil — TOO-a-ha day DAH-nan
AGE OF DRUIDS
Druid’s Brooch Series, #9
Christy Nicholas
Part I
Chapter One
Late winter, 442 CE, Loch Rí, Éire
Her baby’s screech stabbed through Clíodhna’s skull, making her want to abandon Aileran and escape into blessed silence. She wished to be somewhere in the forest, on a hill, surrounded by buzzing bees and yellow flowers. Perhaps flying over the rolling hills with a flock of starlings.
Her brief idyll crashed when another scream broke through. She sighed and picked him up, rocking him against her shoulder while stirring the iron pot. Clíodhna cast an eye for her middle child, Donn, who helped a lot, but tended to wander off and get into trouble. She found no sign of him, but someone yelled at the horses outside. He must be doing farm chores.
Aileran cuddled into her shoulder, let out a wet burp, and promptly fell asleep, a warm weight against her neck. His hand curled around a hank of her black hair, pulling just enough to make her wince. At the same time, his adorable smile invoked her own. Despite her frustration, she loved her baby boy. It had been a dozen winters since her womb had quickened, but she’d been glad of the new child after so long, especially after losing one daughter at birth.
Clíodhna glanced out the window of the large roundhouse. She glimpsed Donn, unharnessing the plow with practiced hands. Though he counted but fourteen winters, he needed to be the man of the house since his father
