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- Herausgeber: BookRix
- Kategorie: Gesellschafts- und Liebesromane
- Sprache: Englisch
It is Pictish Orkney, before the Christian period. A Shamaness seeks a powerful aid in her work as the spiritual guide and seer of her people.
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Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2016
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The Mirror of the Shamaness
To making the unseen seen, BookRix GmbH & Co. KG81371 MunichThe Mirror of the Shamaness
Eithne looked out to sea. A thick fog was rolling in, slowly, moving closer and closer; above it the air was clear, in front of it blue calm water, but within the fog were shapes twisting and turning, green shapes; the Green Ghosts of Rhodri using the mist to transport themselves out into the real world from the burial island of Cappaill. She let out a shriek which brought her accolyte druidesses running.
“Look to the Green Ghosts of Rhodri.”
There was a gasp from the white clad women.
“Bring branches from the Rowan and set them alight. The young women heaped the Rowan branches on the shore;
“Bring fire.”
One ran to the hut fire and brought a blazing brand.
Soon all along the shore the darker smoke from the small bonfires rose to meet the white mist with its twisting green shapes.
“They must not cross,” shouted Eithne, “bring more branches. The bonfires roared and crackled, the young women growing high on the aromatic smoke.
But the mist kept advancing.
“Bring from the sacred Yew,” shouted Eithne.
Branches were brought. The bonfires brightened as the volatile oils sprang into life.
Hot air rose pulling in a wind from the land.
The mist hesitated, then withdrew - the green shapes faded with it.
Eithne collapsed there on the beach.
Unknown to her, the tribe had been watching this trial of power from above the storm beach.
The Green Ghosts of Rhodri were feared as dead souls searching for living bodies to inhabit, to take over.
Eithne was taken to the druidess’s hut near the shore and revived.
“Remember this my women from the folds, first the Rowan, then the Yew which is stronger.”
“And the Green Ghosts,” said Cliona the youngest. “Will they return?”
“Only when the weather is right; three hot days, calm seas, then an easterly breeze.
Now,” she said rising up, “how goes the search for the Mirror Stone?”
“Talorc is diving the pool now mistress. I have seen him there.”
Talorc the diver - more often at sea diving for crabs and lobsters.
The Stone Mirror was a legend, a lost item of the great druidess Orlaith fleeing an attack by the Dog Cenèl.
She had hidden the mirror before taking herself to sea where she unfortunately drowned.
Eithne had dreamed three times of its whereabouts, seeing first the mirror, then Orlaith, fleeing with it in her hand, then finally, she had seen the place of its resting, the salmon pool in the Fichie burn in the sacred wood grove.
Talorc would retrieve it she was sure. She blessed him with prayers of protection.
In the wood, the peaty water cascaded down over several waterfalls until now it sprayed into the large and deep salmon pool.
Talorc dressed only in a leather loin cloth, stood by the bank with his brother DonnDubhán.
Four times Talorc had searched the bottom of the dark pool, feeling across the gravel in the gloom. The water was cold and now he rubbed himself with a rough cloth to relax his muscles.
