The Journey From Oidhche Shamhna

Disclaimer: Not mine.

The Journey From Oidhche Shamhna

Chapter 6

The Last Trip Home

Gryffin could not sleep that night. He paced outside the sleeping tent and waited for Salazar and the others to rise. He looked at the stars as he had the night before, and again wondered if she could see them also. Something was wrong; he felt it like a hunger that he could not satisfy.

Salazar's people had not heard from them for three days, yet he had been home four days ago. He thought of the road that ran between the villages and knew it was unsafe. If three days had passed and no news had come, the road must have already been cut off when he left. He quickened his pace, as if to hurry the night, and then rushed into the tent and went down on his knees at Salazar's mat. Placing his hand over Salazar's mouth lest he make a sudden sound, he woke his friend and clansmen, grasping his shoulder to keep him still.

"I am leaving," he whispered. "I will find you later, but I cannot wait."

"No." Salazar sat up. He looked around at the other sleeping bodies and placed a finger to his lips. He pointed to the entrance and quietly left with Gryffin.

"Gryffin, it is not safe." Salazar pulled Gryffin by the arm farther from the tent. "The roads are watched closely. They watch for us. I have word that many are dead."

"Your village?"

"We lost seven. Father was prepared, all were not so lucky. They have left for the south. The ones already here are those that will head north."

"Salazar, I must go. I cannot leave them there. I cannot leave Lara. Did you bring your familiar? I have need of him. I can send a warning."

"No, I have only the one of the tribe, and it is not fast enough, nor is it a messenger."

"Can you join with Petur's mind?"

"Not at this distance." Salazar ran his fingers through his hair. "Ask Rowena to cast the mirrors."

Gryffin nodded and headed outside the cluster of tents that fit tightly around the test centre to find the young witch and her newly intended. He knew they would be sleeping in the open, near the stone circle, with Elbragh keeping watch.

The field was still dark and flat, the sun yet hours away, only the occasional fire showing in golden embers, small funnels of sparks riding up on the warmed air as he sought them among so many. It was cold and damp, a north wind bringing icy air from the far off northern seas. The air showed his breath to the sky, and looking up as he walked, he searched the sky for a god to keep them safe. The old Teacher saw him coming across the meadow and stood, raising his hand to aid his search and seeing him, Gryffin hurried his step.

He nodded to Elbragh as he hurried to Rowena, only pausing a moment when he saw she was lying in Erwin's arms. Gently he put his hand on her cheek and called her name. He watched as her eyes fluttered open and saw recognition come to them. Standing up and stepping back, he indicated that she should follow him.

As Rowena lifted Erwin's arm off her waist and attempted to slide under it, he woke with a start.

"Rowena?" he said as if seeing through a fog. "What is it? What has happened?"

"Shhh, go back to sleep." She leaned over and kissed his cheek. "Gryffin needs to talk."

"I need you to cast to the mirror." Gryffin did not wait for the formalities that this nighttime visit demanded. "Where are your mirrors?"

"Gryffin, I do not carry mirrors with me," Rowena said.

"Rowena?" Erwin was climbing to his feet.

Gryffin looked to Erwin and stepped back from the witch, knowing what it must look like, coming to a witch and taking her from her bed. "I need her to cast into the mirrors, I meant nothing more."

"Gryffin, what is it you look for?" Rowena looked up at Erwin and back at Gryffin.

Gryffin traced the scab on his right palm with the fingers of his left, and fighting to speak, he looked up at Erwin, his eyes haunted and searching.

"Lara. She is in danger. I need to know... I need Rowena to see, to try to ... they say she has the gift, that she can control her visions."

"Oh, Gryffin, no." She stroked his palm. "It does not work that way. I see what comes to me, not what I want to see. I have no control over it."

"If we left now, how long does it take to get there?" Erwin looked at the man in front of him as he bent over to slide on his sandals.

"By noon meal. It we do not stop I could make it by noon meal."

"Then we leave now." Erwin nodded. "Rowena, stay with Elbragh and..."

"I am coming." She frowned at him.

"From the looks of things you are all leaving." Elbragh pointed his long, bony finger across the open field to where Salazar and Helga were running in their direction.

"Listen to Helga," Salazar panted. "She has a way."

"I don't know if it will work." She looked nervously around. "The elves are left with no place to go. Salazar's people will not take all of them to the south, and only a handful will go north."

"What of it, Helga?" Rowena was confused and looked to Erwin.

"Our clan does not have elves, Helga. I doubt they would take them." He shrugged and looked to Gryffin.

"The elves will die if left on their own. They know nothing of surviving outside of a dwelling." Helga bit her lip and looked at Salazar.

"She wants to make a trade with them." Salazar looked at each in turn. "A home for their help. We can be at Gryffin's village in a matter of minutes."

"Elves?" Rowena looked at Erwin. "I don't know..."

"Elbragh?" Erwin nervously began to pace.

"An elf can be an evil creature." Elbragh looked up to the sky. "Long before man lived in villages, it is said, there was a great war. The war was between one race to the east and one from the west. Both wanted to control the other."

Elbragh walked to the small fire and squatted down, poking at the embers with a stick. He was gathering his thoughts, and thinking of a solution. "It may work."

He stood and looked back at Helga. "It is said that the fight for power devastated their world. That only a handful survived, and that handful vowed never to seek power again, but to make themselves subservient to humans - humans being the lower animal, the less moral one. It was to teach them humility and to insure their line."

"And now their humans are leaving them." She nodded to Elbragh. "Now they must align themselves with other clans or die."

"Hurry, Helga." Salazar smiled. "As an Elder in the old clan that owned them, I will not ask them. It must be of their free will. We will not take their pledge unless it is freely given."

"Wait for me by the path." Helga turned and ran as she spoke.

"Gryffin," Salazar said kindly. "We will make it in time."

"Elbragh." Rowena went to the Teacher, and put her arms around his neck. "May we meet at the end of the road."

"Yes." He closed his eyes and said his leave-taking. "May my death be swift, and may your life be long."

"Oh Elbragh, no," Rowena cried into his neck.

"Go. Go with you husband and child. Go with you new family."

Erwin put his arm around her waist and pulled her back, reaching out to clasp the old Teacher's hand. "May the gods speed you back to us when the troubles have ended."

"Go," Elbragh said as he turned away to hide his tears.

Erwin looked at Rowena, and tipping up her chin, he looked deeply into her eyes. "Are you sure of this?"

"Yes, Erwin." She tried to smile. "We do this, and then we head north."

"Salazar? Gryffin?" Erwin called to them. "It is time to go. If the elves take us, fine. If not we walk."

The four made their way to the path at the bottom of the field, where they waited for Helga. It grew colder, and Gryffin grew impatient when suddenly a series of pops brought several elves bowing and smiling widely.

"I am Iggy," the oldest-appearing elf said with a grand bow. "Your fellow Teacher has sent me to you, to assure myself of what she says."

"Iggy." Salazar stepped up and greeted him. "You know me as a Master. However, you are not to think of that now."

"Yes, Mr. Salazar. I speak for the elves in this, and you will speak for the men."

"I hear that you are left alone." Salazar frowned at the short creature.

"The elves from your village are well taken care of. However, the elves in the outer villages have not fared so kindly."

"There are more?"

"Since your wars started and your villages have been destroyed, my kinsman have also been hunted and destroyed." Iggy stood, trying to keep his chin from quivering.

"I was not aware. Perhaps that is not completely true, Iggy. I gave no thought to the elves. For this I am sorry."

"Iggy?" Rowena stepped closer and bowed to the elf. "Where are they?"

"The elves have moved to caves in the south, near the great water. They wait for us to find them a home, but all we do is send more to live in the caves."

"How many?" Rowena saw Iggy begin to cry.

"Thirty-six and two babies on the way."

"Helga offered you a trade." Salazar knew this was the time to push for the promise when he saw the tears. "Do you accept?"

"I and my sons will take you to the young wizard's home," Iggy agreed. "In return Miss Helga has assured a place for all those in the caves and fourteen others."

"Fourteen? Why fourteen?"

"It is our number for the houses we once were, the same as magical man." Iggy bowed. "It is the time for the change."

Iggy reached out his hand to Salazar, who took up the three fingers in his hand. Looking to see other elves take Rowena, Erwin and Gryffin's hands, he looked down as the elf tugged on him.

"The others will be brought." A sudden explosion of noise filled their ears, and the feeling of falling into a dry water eddy rose up their legs, wrapped swirling air around their bodies and threatened to suffocate them. Just when they each thought that death was better than elf travel, they felt their feet set down on firm ground.

Rowena was the first to fall and vomit on to the ground, soon followed by Erwin. He had made a noble attempt to stand until he heard the sound of her retching and decided that valour and pride were not very important at this time.

Gryffin and Salazar watched them with small chuckles, remembering the first time they had travelled with an elf. They had been children, and had known what to expect. Their summers had been carefree and glorious. Salazar would stay in Godric's embrace, revelling in the laughter and games of the other children, while Gryffin found the finery of the Slytherins enticing and coveted their fine homes and easy life.

The two would travel between the two places with a yell for an elf to do their bidding, never thinking beyond their own pleasures. Gryffin now frowned and looked at Salazar, who was still smiling down at the elf.

"Enough, Salazar." Gryffin felt darkness close in on him. He had never felt the oppressive air as he did now, and knew that just ahead held something he did not want to see.

"Master Salazar." Iggy bowed. "We will not fight. It is not allowed since our own dark time. We will leave you and yours. The thirty-six and the fourteen shall join you after winter solstice."

"Iggy." Rowena fought to gain her feet. "Thank you."

"Miss Helga is a great witch," Iggy said, bowing and placing his right arm across his chest. "She has saved many tonight, and will be always be remembered by mine."

A series of pops filled the air as the elves left, and then the sound of Helga retching on the ground came to them again.

"Helga?" Salazar looked around for her.

"You great arse of a swine," she sputtered from a stand of birch. "You could have warned me."

"She is fine." Salazar smiled. "Sounds like her old sweet self."

"Worm eating slug of a ..." Helga retched again to Salazar's laughter.

"How much further?" Erwin asked, waking over to the two that now stood watching Helga retch.

"Come." Gryffin started up a worn path. "Just ahead."

The smell of smoke hung in the air. Rowena frowned, thinking how much wood his clan must burn to keep warm as Helga's cry came to them.

"No!" Her anguished scream split the night as she ran past Rowena, racing toward the village as Gryffin caught the same sweet smell in the air.

Gryffin ran down the path, his heart beating so fast his feet could not keep the pace. He ran oblivious to the others calling him back and the sound of crackling fire in the air. He did not see the pyre piled in the middle of the village, nor the dwelling's smouldering wreckage. He saw only his home, as it was when he had left, his dwelling that held his Lara and Petur.

He could not find the entrance. He paced in front of what should be his home and could not find a way in. He could not see what was before him, and called her name, screaming for her to come to him and let him hold onto her. He ran to the back of the dwelling and could not find her there either. He shut his eyes and screamed into the night, knowing what was wrong but refusing to see it.

Arms wrapped around his waist and pulled him to the ground as he sought her face behind his eyes, and her smell in the air. He did not know the sound of the scream was from him, or that the sounds of crying were his own.

Salazar had watched him run through the village to what used to be his home. The only thing left was a smouldering piece of ground, charred bits of thatching and parts of broken and blackened furniture. He had watched Gryffin pace in front of the burnt ground and call to his wife, demanding that she come to him. He begged her to stop hiding and to show herself.

Salazar could take his pain no longer and had wrapped his arms around his cousin, pulling him to the ground and hugging him close. He rocked the man as a woman would a baby and felt hot tears wet his robes. He looked up at the others and saw looks of horror and tears of compassion on their faces.

"In the village." Helga tried to tell Salazar what was there. She saw his nod and understood not to say the words aloud.

"My god, Erwin." Rowena fisted his robes and buried her face in his robes. "How could anyone do this?"

"Shhh." He rubbed her back in small circles and kissed the top of her head without taking his eyes of Salazar and Gryffin.

"Take Helga from this place. This is no place for women."

"Erwin?" She looked up at him.

"We have work to do." He pushed past her and walked over to the wizards still on the ground. He knelt on one knee and looked to Salazar.

"What does she look like?"

"Look for a scab on her left hand." Salazar said evenly. "This would have occurred before dinner. She would have been wearing her bride's cap, and silver combs in her hair. But look for the scar."

Erwin stood and walked to the pyre, knowing this would be the hardest thing he would ever do. He felt heat and spent magic hang in the air, and felt the spirits' souls looking for a resting place. He looked at the remains of the bonfire full of limbs and charred bodies. He closed his eyes against the horror, and wished away the sickening sweet smell. He tried to pray but no words came to him that he could send up, and no god he knew could help him with this.

"He is with Rowena and Helga." Salazar's voice was near his ear.

"There are no prayers for this." Erwin choked on the words. "I stand here wanting to give thanks that it is his family and not mine."

Salazar put his hand on Erwin's shoulder. "I know. I feel the same."

"There are so many. There is no way to do this." Erwin again looked at the barbaric sight.

"We will dig a pit. It is all we can do. If we do not recognize her, we will lie to him. We will tell him she is with her people and at peace."

"Is it possible, I mean could she..."

"No, I found this behind their dwelling." Salazar handed him a woman's cloak, torn and spotted with blood, and held out the hair combs Salazar had seen in the hair of Gryffin's mother years ago.

Erwin took the cloth in his hands and looked up to the sky. Again, he searched for the wisdom he needed to get through this. Sighing, he placed the cloak tenderly on the ground and went with Salazar to prepare a pit.

They worked until the sun showed on the horizon, magically clearing the earth from the pit, and one by one levitating the burnt bodies to lie on the bottom. Twice Erwin had to stop and vomit onto the ground and twice he let tears run down his face. Salazar watched him closely, unsure if he should send him away or allow him to stay. He needed this wizard to get the troops north; however, his reaction to this sight was not one of strength. He could not count on Gryffin until he had time to put away his grief and worried about what they faced.

Stories that told of this type of horror were handed down in the Slytherin clan. They told bedtime stories of old to children and passed them from father to son. They knew this had happened from the beginning of time and would continue to happen as the one God spread and the magical people became fewer and fewer. He turned back to work, hoping that Erwin could find his strength.

Erwin went down on one knee, and turned the left palm of one witch up to the rising sun. He unclasped her burnt fist and saw the line that he looked for.

"Over here, I think this is his Lara."

"Yes," Salazar said, joining him on the ground. "His Lara, his beautiful girl. She held his heart since she was a child."

Salazar took the combs from his pocket and put them in the charred hand, then removing his belt from his robe, he tied her hand closed. Then he kissed the tips of his fingers, and pressed them to her blackened lips. Erwin shrugged off his cloak and wrapped it around the charred skeletal remains, and watched as she was levitated to the pit with the others.

"Gryffin no," Rowena called and tried to pull him back as he ran to the village in time to see the cloaked body go into the pit.

"Salazar?" He fought for words and threw off Rowena's hand.

"She is at peace, my brother." Salazar stood, standing between him and the pit, looking at Gryffin with a cold stare. "She is with her people."

"This is my fault. She begged to come with me. She begged me."

"You have no fault in this." Salazar shook his head.

"Did she..." Gryffin fought for words. "How did they..."

Salazar locked his eyes on Erwin. "They died quickly. I think in their sleep. It was not the Ostmen."

Erwin knew that the robes were found, ripped and bloody, outside the dwelling, with her hair combs and bridal cap removed. The men had taken her before her death. He thought of Rowena, and what such knowledge would do to him. He nodded his acceptance of the lie to Salazar, and turned away lest his face show the truth.

"Her father? Was he here? Is he buried with her?" He raged at Salazar and turned angrily to Erwin. "A man in Roman clothes, a priest's robe, did you find him?"

"No, nothing like that." Erwin looked at Salazar and then back to Gryffin. "Her father?"

"If he is not here he helped in this." Gryffin walked to the edge of the pit and looked in at the twisted and dark mass of death.

Erwin picked up Lara's cloak and walked to Gryffin, carefully folding it and handing it to him. "She is wearing your mother's combs to help her find the way to her. She will not be alone this day."

Gryffin put the cloak to his face and smelled Lara as she had smelled when he claimed her. A sob rose in his throat and burst out of his mouth in a fury.

"What do you want of us?" He raged to the sky, shaking the fist that held the cloth to the gods that had turned away. "What more can you take? What more do you want?"

Rowena slipped up quietly and held Erwin's arm, terrified that anyone would act like this to the gods of his own people.

"Answer me!" he demanded of the gods. "Take me, take me, and just send her back."

He fell onto his knees sobbing, and taking in great gulps of air. Helga had stood back and watched him, waiting for him to spend his anger. Now, she stepped up and took the cloak from him, and raised it back to the sky.

She offered up the cloak with a prayer for the dead, the same prayer offered in the circle of stones. This was the new and last burial mound of the clan of Godric. From now on the Godric clan, the clan that would always lead back to Gryffin, would marry and be buried away from this land. Helga prayed for understanding, and wisdom within that understanding, and the end of wars. She prayed above all for the Godric pride and wisdom to pass on, and not fade from the world.

A sudden burst of cold light enveloped her, swirling her robes, and tugging at her hair, pulling it loose until her braids were free from her head. She held on to the cloak as a shimmer of energy flowed up from the ground, and a like shimmer fell from above, meeting in the treasured cloak she held in her hands. The others stepped back and shielded their eyes from the brilliant light, and did not look back until it faded.

Helga had fallen to the ground and now sat, up gasping for air and looking wildly around. The cloak lay in the charred remains of the funeral pyre and with a cry she snatched it back out. She felt the shimmer of magic the fabric still held, and crawling over to Gryffin, she laid it in his lap.

"I don't know what just happened." She licked her lips and touched her finger to her tongue. "It tingles."

"My gods, Helga," Salazar said as he walked over. "Are you well?"

Rowena and Erwin came to kneel down and touch the cloak. As they each looked at one another Gryffin held the cloak reverently in his hands and looked wide-eyed at Helga.

"Salazar?" He looked up to see Salazar smile.

"Yes, I have heard of it happening when not asked for." Salazar smiled. "I guess whatever magic makes this possible was here tonight."

"Possession?" Rowena frowned. "How is that possible when so many were lost? Does it not have to be a single spirit?"

"She prayed for the wisdom and understanding of the entire clan." He shrugged and reached out to touch the cloak. "This now holds the wisdom and understanding of Godric's people. We should have made sure to ask for a hot meal and an extra pair of shoes while she was at it."

Gryffin stood, and taking a deep breath, began to cover the pit with earth. With each pass of his hand over the soil, he levitated the earth with a name of one of those lost. In all fourteen family lines, twenty-three dwellings, seventy-two adults and one hundred four children were lost.

"One hundred seventy-six souls they took today," Gryffin said in a voice as cold as ice. "They will pay tenfold."

He turned on his heel and left the village without looking back. The small group left the smouldering homes as they started their trek north. Only Salazar stayed behind to put a spell on the burial mound to hide it from non-magical eyes. Looking around carefully, he took in everything he could see. He would not forget this sight, and would be sure the story was retold until each clan and descendent knew the horror and learned to keep away from the sight of non-magical men.

This was not the work of the men of God. This was the work of ambitious men. Men that would use a god for their own conquests and control. A godly thing had not happened here. He stepped up to the pit and asked the strange one God of men to help these souls in their passage and to protect this mound from others' eyes, adding the prayer to his own spell of concealment. He felt the wards strengthen and bind.