Blurb:
The Goddess Morrigan has cast her evil magic over
Brendálynn’s kingdom and taken her mother captive. As she goes into Morrigan’s
realm to challenge her and free the woman who bore her, Brendálynn discovers
that there is powerful magic in the music she has learned—more than she ever
imagined.
Author:
David W. Landrum is the author of The Gallery, The Sorceress
of the Northern Seas, Strange Brew, and The Prophetess, all available through
Amazon.
Excerpt:
Right after Mother disappeared, my father started beating me
a lot, and the day I met the Goddess Ardwinna, he was at it again. The first couple
of times he whipped me with his belt after Mother disappeared in one of the
dark spells Morrigan brings on our land, I acted like I was in pain. After that
I just gave him dirty looks.
"Didn’t hurt," I said when he had finished on that
particular day — though it did a little. He raised the belt threateningly.
"Go on," I urged. "Hit me all you want. I’m sure Mother would be
happy to see you beating her only daughter."
When I spoke of Mother, Father always backed off. He turned
and went to the kitchen, the belt dragging on the floor. I heard him pour
himself what had to be a cup of whisky, which he usually drank when he was in
this kind of mood.
It was hard when she disappeared. I spent time in church,
prostrate before the altar, weeping and pleading. I told God I would do
anything if He would return Mother to us. I promised I would enter a convent.
Whatever He asked of me, I would do if He would return her. Only silence came
from heaven — silence and Father’s drinking. Our priest told me to be patient.
Months passed. Finally, I went out one snowy morning and walked to Ardwinna’s
bower. This called for caution. Our people worshipped Ardwinna, the goddess of
the wood, of hunting, and of virginity before our province became Christian.
Some still worshipped her, though secretly.
I came to the sacred place beside a stream where two white
birch trees towered to the sky. The bare trees creaked in the wind. The stream
flowed in the middle, though it had iced at the edges. I walked up and brushed
the snow from the two stones, took off my shoes, placed my feet on the two
smooth, cold rocks, and reached out to touch the cold, peeling white of the
trees.
In the perfect silence of winter — in the cold and purity of
blue sky — I asked the goddess to help me. Even though my feet burned with
cold, I stood there a long time. Did I feel the goddess near? There is no way
to know if we feel such things or if they are simply our own hearts full of
emotion making us feel what we hope for. After a while I returned. Ardwinna did
not answer my prayer. I had given up on divine intervention to bring Mother
back to us.
That had been in winter. Spring came and headed into summer,
and still we knew nothing of Mother. We had no idea where she had gone nor
whether she was alive or dead.
After Father had beaten me, Miranda came into the room. She
brought a glass of light wine from the cellar. Her grey eyes were sad. I sat
down, took a sip, and told her to climb into my lap. She was really too big to
be sitting in my lap. At eight years, she was a tall, sturdy maiden.
Tender-hearted and sensitive, it always hurt her to see Father give me
threshing. She sat on my legs and snuggled against me. I put my arms around
her.
"Why is Grandfather always beating you?" she asked.
"He doesn’t do it a lot. It just seems a lot, because
it’s so upsetting when it happens. He’s full of sorrow about Mother." I
kissed her and stroked her hair. "Don’t fret, Miranda. Time will heal
him."
"Will you sing me
a song?" Miranda asked.
I got my lute and did a funny song for her. She laughed. We
went outside, played tag, and tossed pine cones into a bucket until she got
tired of her favorite game.
"I’ve got to do my chores," she said. I helped her
feed our goats. She went off to weed the herb garden. I went to my room, washed,
and changed into fresh clothing. My lesson was scheduled for that day.
I put my lute in its carrying bag. Roxanne, my servant girl,
and Jacques, one of the burly, tough male servants, accompanied me. We were
going to the home of Leonel, my teacher, who lived at the edge of the Wood of
Ardwinna. In the old days, it was sacred to her.
