“Bran. Let me look at you.” His voice sounded tired. Or did I sense disappointment? He lowered his arms and studied me from head to toe as he had so many times when I was a child. His smile widened. I knew that he saw who I had become, and his approval pleased me.
Arik knelt next to Dimia. “Mother,” I overheard him say quietly as he gently nudged her shoulder.
Her eyes opened and she nearly flew out of the chair. “Arik. At last.” She threw her arms around him and kissed his cheek. “Where is…” She searched the room until she found me.
“Bran.” She left Arik’s embrace.
“Mother,” I murmured. She came to me and before I could do anything she wrapped me in her arms. My chest tightened and I gasped for breath. My arms hesitated in midair for a moment before I put them around her. I couldn’t move away. I didn’t want to.
Home.
That’s how she felt.
With my eyes closed, I held her and reveled in her affection. After years of putting up with the loneliness of being away from everyone I knew, we were finally together. Comforted, I went to my room and went to sleep.
A knock on my door woke me as I slept in my own bed. Exhausted from our long ride, I chose to ignore the intrusion. I turned over for a few more hours of sleep. When I rose in the late afternoon I found a plate of bread and cheese on the table near the hearth.
It must have been Jeannie’s doing. As a boy, there were times I was sent to bed without supper. Even though Arik pilfered something for me to eat, I would wake at night and find a plate laid out for me. The one time I asked Jeannie about it she’d feigned no knowledge and told me it must be the work of the fae.
I chuckled to the empty room. Fae indeed. It was Jeannie then and it was Jeannie now. I opened the window and scanned the undisturbed snow. “Hail and welcome,” I said to the day. Although the morning salutation was a bit late, I wouldn’t tempt to anger the Great Mother. I touched the pouch I wore around my neck and whispered my daily offering to the wind.
“As above, so below,
As within, so without,
May the Great Mother’s day be so blessed,
That she may grant me my request. So mote it be.”
A gust of cold air sent the drapery flapping. I closed the window, picked up a piece of cheese then stared at the snow. What had the council said before we left? Your new life is like a field of untouched snow. It is up to you to make your mark and use your gifts, wisely. My destiny rested with the family and I needed to secure my rightful place. The knowledge that all I had dreamed, worked, and prayed for was within my grasp made me giddy with anticipation.
Fendrel and Dimia had raised me as their own since my second year. I was their son. The fact that my long-deceased Orkney Island parents were distant relatives of Fendrel’s was not the issue. Managing the clan’s Orkney estate was much the same as managing Fayne Manor except Orkney Island was harsher and wilder. On our annual pilgrimages there I found the long, almost-nightless summer and equally long, sunless winter depressing. The constant wind and sea fog added to the discomfort. I longed for the normalcy of sunrise and sunset.
The island landscape was barren. It was as if something had come along and scrubbed out all the trees. Why anyone would live there was a mystery to me. But Arik thrived when we were there—always off doing something then coming back to recount the news about his cousins. That didn’t interest me at all. The tenants were happy we were there but I suspect happier when we left. The stone estate house was simple and comfortable but it was Fayne Manor that I called home. Fayne Manor was where I belonged. Here was my birthright.
I glanced at the tenant farms out past the manor wall, now all covered in snow. Childhood memories of how my life would be danced in front of me. Five years of long nights had given me time to picture my future. But it wasn’t until the night Arik and I celebrated the announcement that Arik would be the next Grand Master that the talk became serious. His insistence to give up his birthright, Fayne Manor, in my favor was more than I’d ever hoped for.
I knew I’d have to prove myself the best man. Fendrel was fair. He would choose me and Arik would be my right hand. He was the more personable of the two of us and he liked to work with the tenants.
I’d have him manage them, although he was much too lenient when it came to leading men. The Druid Council didn’t recognize his shortcoming the way I did. What did those old men know? Under my tutelage he would learn. People needed and respected a strong leader. A voice in my head took me to task. I may have been too harsh but I didn’t give the voice recognition. I had my pride.
I would manage Fayne Manor. I’d have to turn over every stone to make certain I succeeded. Thoughts tumbled around in my head. I’d let them stew for a while and see what surfaced.
“Bran.” Someone tapped on my door. I opened it and found Arik with two tankards of ale. “Good eve,” he said and handed me one. “It’s good to be home.” I stood to the side and let him in.
“Yes.” I drank deeply and licked my lips to savor the nutty flavor unmatched by any other brewer. “I’m looking forward to the evening’s banquet and greeting the new year.”
“So am I,” he agreed. We drank our ale in silence but I knew my brother. Something stirred just below the surface. “How does
