The Wolf and the Druidess (7 page)

“What tribe?” Seren asked.

“The Silures,” Hywell said, with an edge to his voice.

“Gwydion, heed my mother’s warning. Shape shift into a wolf, then you can sniff out the cattle and the raiders.”

“No, I must stay in human form to cast a barrier spell they can’t escape.”

“I will perform the spell.” Seren was too irritated to hide the frustration in her voice. “I beg of you, take my mother’s warning to heart.”

“I must cast the spell,” Gwydion said in a soft yet firm voice. “I can freeze the raiders in place long enough for the warriors to catch up with them.”

“Do it,” Hywell said.

“No, he is in danger,” Seren snapped.

“It is our only chance. If we lose milk and beef, the entire tribe could starve during the winter.” Hywell shook his head.

“What harm could possibly befall me? The Silures cannot hurt me if I turn them to ice first,” Gwydion said.

“My mother would not warn me unless the threat was real,” Seren said. “I myself sense danger, but it may not be from the Silures. You must be careful.”

“Seren, he is a god,” Hywell said.

“Yes, what could happen to me?” Gwydion said.

Rather than answer, she peered into Gwydion’s eyes. “Swear to me, you will take heed.”

“Yes, I will return to you unharmed.” Gwydion pulled his wand from the pouch tied to his side and brandished it high. “I am ready.” He swirled the ash stick, decorated with Celtic spirals, through the air in a sweeping motion.

“Foes of the Ordovices

Your raid is condemned.

I forbid your flight.

Winter’s embrace,

Shall halt your escape,

Frozen like ice.

For the tribe to find.”

A blue light with the power of a lightning bolt shot from Gwydion’s wand. Seren and Hywell clung to each other during the mighty blast, and they watched, knowing everyone in the village could feel the surge.

“It is done,” he said to them.

“Now you must shift into wolf form,” Seren said to Gwydion as she released her hold on Hywell.

After Gwydion eased off his horse, his body blurred from one form to the next as his limbs shortened and his flesh shifted into a pelt of white fur. The wolf stood before Seren once more.

Hywell gasped. “Gwydion, do not get too near the cattle, you will spook them.”

The wolf nodded, and as he darted off, Seren goaded her horse into a hard gallop. Hywell followed.

Musing on her mother’s dire warning, Seren vowed she wouldn’t let anything happen to Gwydion. At that moment, she realized she couldn’t bear to lose him. She knew she’d fallen in love with a god. Yet she dreaded telling him, for she was but a mortal. How could she compete with the beautiful goddesses he’d known?

Though he’d only been in the village a short while, she’d known of him all her life. As a druidess, she’d heard all the stories about him, the god. The good and the bad. Seren knew he helped his brother sneak into Math’s fortress and couple with that god’s woman, Goewin. That was why Math turned him into a stag, a sow, and a wolf, and his brother into a hind, a boar, and a she-wolf. Yet once the punishment ended, Gwydion made peace with Math. He was fair and just and able to change for the better. These were the traits she loved about him the best. He’d transformed her life since he’d been here. She didn’t realize how lonely she’d been until he came. If only he would stay. But now, she needed to make sure no harm came to him. Seren felt danger in the air. It hung heavy about her and a cold chill swept through her.

She drove her mount past the edge of the forest and toward the mountains as Hywell rode at the rear.

“There are the other warriors,” Hywell yelled to her, and pointed off into the distance.

“They found them.” Seren rode up to Meilyr, Cynfarch, Gwdderig, and the other men who surrounded the frozen Silure warriors and held them at spear point.

At that moment, the Silures flinched, awakening from the freezing spell. Their mouths dropped open and their eyes widened with shock as they each found the whetted point of an Ordovices’s weapon at their flesh. With the Silures captured, Seren spurred her horse forward to round up the stolen cattle that had wandered off when the raiders fell under Gwydion’s spell.

Glad to hear the hooves of Hywell’s mount behind her, she yelled out to him, “Look for the cattle while I find Gwydion.”

The moment she spoke, both the lowing of frightened cattle and the howl of a lone wolf pierced the air. She drove her horse at a gallop toward the noise.

* * * *

Gwydion heard Seren call for him, and howled back. This caught the attention of a huge bull that stalked toward him. Gwydion was more than a wolf, he was a god, he refused to show any fear toward this beast. Hard as stone, he met the bull’s beady black eyes stare for stare. The bull snorted and kicked up dirt, then cast his large head down. The beast released a rumbling bellow. It charged, hooves hammering the dirt as it barreled forward, straight for him. Gwydion eyed the deadly horns and the brown bulk of muscles coming at him.

In wolf form, he leaped into the air just before the bull would have rammed him. Gwydion jumped over the beast, landing unscathed. He’d faced the bull and won that match. Gwydion was too agile, too quick, and too smart for a simple beast. It didn’t matter how big he was. The bull would leave him alone now, and let him drive it back to the tribe.

Just as Gwydion was preparing to shape shift to human form to herd the cattle back, a sudden piercing pain riveted his body. A spear stabbed his side. Scarlet blood pooled on the ground. He fell wounded, dying as a wolf.

* * * *

Seren’s scream rent the air as she vaulted off her horse and ran to Gwydion. The coppery scent of his blood hung on the air. His chest moved slightly with his shallow breathing and he whimpered softly, but he didn’t move. An inner pain ripped through her.

She petted his head in silence as Hywell rode up. She’d never even had a chance to tell him she wanted him to stay. She needed more than a tryst with him. Even though he would have most likely said no, she should not be robbed of the chance. Now he lay dying. No, she had to save him. Seren took a deep breath and forbade her eyes to cry or her body to tremble. She had to be strong for Gwydion, for the tribe, she was a druidess. She had forgotten about the tribe for a moment. First she needed to cast a calling spell to round up the cows and the bull and get them back to the village.

She threw her arms into the air and chanted. “Damona, divine cow goddess, summon the cattle of my tribe, bring them together to be herded home, come cattle come, hear my call.”

The bleating of cattle could be heard as cows trotted toward her and the bull strutted forward, as gentle as a puppy.

Seren turned her head toward Hywell. “As you drive the heard back, you’ll pass the other warriors. Send some of them here.”

“No, some of them will send the raiders back to the Silure village, but the other warriors will ride here for the cattle. They are probably on the way now. I am sure of it. Let me get the man who did this.” Hywell galloped off on his mount in the direction from which the spear was thrown.

Kneeling beside the dying wolf, Seren pulled off her robe and stuffed it into the wound to staunch the blood. “Gwydion, change back into human form. You were wounded as a wolf. Shift back.”

The wolf howled in agony as his body stretched. Seren embraced him, trying to offer comfort and lessen his pain. His front paws became arms and his legs shifted to those of a human. His head compressed and his scarlet-soaked fur changed to flesh. Her arms were wrapped around Gwydion’s muscular shoulders as he lay at her side.

“Are you all right? Though the spear still pierces your side, in your human form it is not in as vital a place as when you were a wolf.” Her voice broke. “Gwydion do not die. You must live.”

“Yes, I shall live. You are right, in this form the injury is no longer fatal, as a wolf it was a mortal wound, but in the form of a man I will live.”

“My mother was right.” Seren brushed a tear back from her eyes. He would live. Slowly, she took a deep breath.

“Yes, my dear Seren, your mother saved me. Still it is bad, you must pull the spear out.”

Seren knew the moment she yanked it out of him, it would cause him great pain. Her fingers shook as she wrapped them around the shaft of the spear. Forcing her fear aside, she clenched her jaw and pulled back with all her might. As he yelled in agony, the spear came free.

Laying his hand on the wound, which bled excessively, a white light glowed from his fingertips. “Scarlet river, flow no more.” The bleeding stopped. “Healing light, cure my pain, return my might.” His skin pulled together, the deep gash closed, leaving his flesh smooth and whole as if there’d been no wound.

Seren examined his side where the weapon struck. “Not even a scar remains. You had the power to heal yourself all along.” A great weight had lifted off of her. He was unharmed. All was well. Now she just had to muster her courage to tell him how she felt about him and to ask him to stay.

“Yes, if my wolf form had died, I would still have been able to live in my god or man form.”

“That is why my
mam
delivered the warning.” A warm glow flowed through Seren, her mother had saved Gwydion.

“Yes, she knew if I died in the form of a beast, I would still live in the form of a man.”

“All is well. The Silures will not raid us again, not anytime soon, we have the stolen cattle back and you are healed.”

She heard the sound of a horse’s hooves and turned to see Hywell riding up. “There is more. He comes with tidings of your assailant.”

Hywell reined in his chestnut stallion and eased off the saddle.

“Did you find the spearman?” Gwydion asked.

“Yes.” Hywell shrugged and in an awed tone said. “But it isn’t a man or a woman.”

“What say you?” Seren rose to a standing position and folded her arms across her chest.

“It was a god, wasn’t it?” Though calm, the tone of Gwydion’s voice had an edge to it.

“Yes.” Hywell glanced at the blood on the ground and then at Gwydion. “He vanished when we came upon him. But you have recovered well. I feared you were near death.”

“I have a good healer.” Gwydion flashed a smile at Seren, and then turned back to the warrior. “If it was Govannon, he is only doing Arianrhod’s bidding. This is what happened to Dylan.”

“Yes, he speared his nephew, Arianrhod’s son,” Seren said.

“Yes, Dylan was vulnerable, due to the curse that made him turn mortal on moonless nights. Govannon threw his spear at the God Dylan on such a night and killed him.” Gwydion closed his eyes for a moment as if remembering the sea god, who was rumored to have been his son.

“He speared you as well.” Seren buried her face in her hands, taking a moment to muster her strength.

“Arianrhod ordered him to kill Dylan, and she must have commanded him to murder me, also.” The muscles of his jaw flicked angrily and his eyes narrowed.

“But why?” Seren jerked her head up and met his gaze. She wanted to scream. He’d almost died, due to the crazy goddess.

“She ordered me dead because she is jealous of you.”

“I do not understand why a goddess would be jealous of me.” Seren shook her head.

“Because she knows I love you,” Gwydion said, in a deep voice simmering with passion.

Seren was speechless. Warm joy bubbled inside her. “I was about to tell you the same thing. Does this mean you will stay with me longer than Samhain?”

“Yes. Forever
cariad
.” Gwydion rose, stood before Seren, and pulled her into his arms.

Crushed against his muscular body, wrapped in a cocoon of warmth, she gazed into his eyes, smoldering with fire. “I love you.”

Her words were smothered as he moved his mouth over hers, devouring the wet heat of her sweet lips.

Easing his mouth from hers, his eyes gazed into hers. “It would seem we have just met
cariad
, but sweetheart, I have longed for you from afar. I scried you in the pond of the wise salmon, and even he said you were the woman for me.

But my heart revealed this truth long before the ancient fish did. Your beauty enchanted me. I love the sweetness of your voice, and your smile melts my very soul. But Seren, your spirit, your love for your tribe, your devotion to the gods, your joy in the land and all life upon it and your commitment to family all come from this tender, sensitive, caring heart.” He splayed his fingers against her chest where her heart lay, gently massaging the spot. “You are a rare gem, and as a dragon must hoard its treasure, I have to have you. I crossed the veil of mist from the otherworld for you, and I will not leave this world without you. There is no force of nature, nor any god or any man that can change that. Certainly not Arianrhod.”

Stepping out of the embrace, he grabbed the spear she’d pulled out of his wolf form. He waved his free hand and the weapon vanished. “I will deal with Govannon and Arianrhod later. There is something more important I must do now.”

Suddenly his strong, warm arms enveloped her again. Her sensitive breasts crushed against his firm chest. His musky, woodsy, masculine scent wafted in the air. Gwydion’s hot, full lips pressed against hers. Molten heat flooded her as her lips molded to his for what seemed like forever.

Reluctantly, he eased his mouth off hers.

“We should get back to the village,” Hywell called to them, as his mount nickered. “Must we?” Gwydion’s mouth pulled into a wry smile.

Seren wanted to tell him no, just ignore Hywell. “I fear he will not leave without us. And the tribe will worry if we do not return. I am their druid,” she shrugged, “and you are their god.”

Gwydion’s masculine laughter rippled through the air. He led Seren’s mount to her and helped her into the saddle, and then climbed onto his horse.

When they rode into the village, the other eight warriors, who had driven the bull and cows back, stood before the chief.

“Hail, Gwydion, Druidess Seren, and Hywell.” After greeting them, Neithon waited for the three to dismount and step forward, joining the others. He addressed all of them. “You are champions this day, having returned the herd and presented it to me. The tribe is grateful. A feast will be held on the morrow to honor you, nine warriors of Samhain, as well as Seren, and Gwydion.” He pointed to them.