Update --- THE VORTEX: Book III Of The Alban Saga

 

The Alban Saga series takes place in Scotland in the real world with fantasy incorporated within it. It also includes elements of mystery, time travel, and Scottish history, occurring at actual locales and famous sites across Scotland.

Book I of the series is Beatrice. Book II is Black Grotto, and the third and final book of the series is entitled The Vortex.

I just finished Chapter 28, titled "Una's Message," and started Chapter 29. It doesn't have a title yet, but I'd like to let you read the first few lines. I've included it below! 

I put the ellipsis in the last sentence so that I wouldn't give something important away. No spoilers!

Standing and leaning her shoulder against the door jamb, Bea stared at the open window on the far side of Fiona and Doug’s bedroom. The sun had risen just enough to allow its rays to pierce the opening and splay out across the room. It imbued all that it touched with the soft glow of early morning light, including the shrouded body of ... still lying across the bed.

Book III Of The Alban Saga: The Vortex - WORKING ON THE CLIMAX

  

The Alban Saga series takes place in Scotland in the real world with fantasy incorporated within it. It also includes elements of mystery, time travel, Scottish history, and actual locales and famous sites within Scotland.

Book I of the series is Beatrice. Book II is Black Grotto, and The Vortex is the third and final book of the series.

I just finished Chapter 27, titled "FIRE & EVIL," so I should only have three or four chapters left to write. That means that I'm very close to the end and am definitely into the climax at this point, which is always great fun!

I don't usually like to include an excerpt from a chapter this close to the end of a book, but in this case, I think I can. So, below is a snippet from the beginning of Chapter 27!

As fall began to sweep across the Isle of Lewis, altering the circadian rhythms of every living thing, the temperatures dropped and the days became shorter. Summer's end always seemed to carry with it a bit of sadness, though autumn, in its own right, was still a magnificent time of year. It almost felt good to add an extra layer of clothing, cozy up to a peat fire in the evening with an elegant dram of whisky, and, because the nights were now longer and darker, it was also possible for the residents of Stornoway to view astronomical events unavailable to them during the long days of summer. The northern lights could sometimes be seen when the horizon was devoid of cloud or rain, coating the black canvas of the northern sky with vibrant brushstrokes of green, red, orange, pink, or yellow.

Furthermore, fall was typically a time when the locals had more time to relax and do things for themselves and with their families without having to deal with as many tourists. However, this autumn had not allowed them that luxury. It had been marked by the rise, once again, of the Stornoway Grove of Druids, led by their new High Priestess, Una Murray, and nothing had been the same in their small town since her arrival. And now, in a little over two weeks, it seemed that another event was to occur that, if the rumours were to be believed, could alter their lives even further. In fact, it was said that it was of such great import that, if it actually did come to fruition, its impact could be significant enough to alter not only how people lived in Stornoway but all across the globe. It was referred to as the Ascension Ceremony, and not a great deal was known about it outside the close-knit Druid community. The only thing that the locals knew for certain was that it was said to involve some type of transformation of the High Priestess and that it would occur very early in the morning on 18 September when the Harvest Moon began its journey across the sky.

With all the preparations and the arrival of throngs of people via planes and ferries, life for the High Priestess and her grove of acolytes continued at a frenetic pace, but it did not just affect them. The whole town had been inundated with more people than it could handle – even more than during the busiest of tourist seasons. In point of fact, the town’s population, which normally was about seven thousand, was currently over eight and continued to increase almost daily. Businesses were so swamped that they could hardly keep up, and the establishments that usually housed tourists had quickly run out of room. The town’s residents had to take up the slack and open their own homes to the newcomers.

Una Murray’s grove of acolytes had also become significantly larger. Their numbers had swelled from twenty or so to over two hundred, particularly as word had spread concerning the magical abilities of the High Priestess, the trainings that she’d been providing for her acolytes, and because of all the stories that were swirling about concerning her Ascension Ceremony.

All of which should have left Una Murray feeling extremely positive and confident, especially with so little time left before the ceremony. However, Obsidian, who was Una’s closest confidante, had noticed that the closer her leader was to the actual day, the more worried she'd seemed to be. Logically, Obsidian believed that the reason for this had to be that Una was merely having a very normal response to what would have been, for anyone, an astonishing, life-changing experience. After all, during the time Obsidian had known her High Priestess, she had never seen her behave in such a manner and had never known her to over-think or worry about anything, really. However, despite all the logic that Obsidian could muster to the contrary, she still was unable to shake the feeling that there had to be something else going on.

Update for Book III Of The Alban Saga: THE VORTEX

 

The Vortex is the third and final book of the fantasy series called The Alban Saga. Beatrice was Book I and Black Grotto,  Book II. I just finished Chapter 23 titled "The Mole."

The Vortex is going to be about 31 chapters long, with the final chapter being the "Epilogue." I'm hoping to complete and publish it sometime during the fall of 2024. Maybe sooner if everything goes well!

Fingers Crossed!

Below is a short excerpt from the end of  Chapter 23.

Una had just finished another meeting with her inner circle, laying out in even more detail the plans for her ascension. Zephyr and Abbey had just left, and Obsidian was about to leave as well when Una waved her over and asked, “Do ye think ye could stay a bit longer. I need t’ talk about something that’s been disturbing me.”

Obsidian laid her bag on the floor, sat down opposite Una, and said, “Go ahead, Una.”

“With the coming of my ascension as the Hermaphrodite, all the work I’m doing to prepare, and because I’m connecting with the Heartwood almost every day now, it hasn’t been unusual for me to dream almost every night. But there was one dream in particular that I had about a month ago that I can’t get out of my head. It was unbelievably real, almost a vision of sorts.”

“What was it about?”

“It happened on the kind of night I normally enjoy. A night when earth’s darkest secrets call to me - when I always light a peat fire, and the flames speak to me of the deepest and most ancient Druid enchantments and lore. On this particular night, though, something felt strange and different to me.

“As on most stormy nights, I was sitting by the fire with a dram of my favorite whisky. The wind was fierce and the rain pounding down on the roof over my head. However, on this wild night, the flames of the fire did not comfort me, nor did the whisky help soothe my nerves. I felt anxious, and when I went to bed I tossed and turned. It took me several hours to get to sleep. When I finally did, it must have been during a particularly deep part of that sleep when I had the dream.”

At that point Una took a sip of tea, collected her thoughts, and then continued. “In the dream, I could sense that someone had entered my cottage. I didn’t know who. I just knew they were there. I could sense their movements outside my bedroom, but for some reason, it didn’t actually wake me up. It wasn’t long, though, before I knew they were inside my bedroom.

“Next to my bed, I always kept the Heartwood in a cloth bag. I like to have it nearby in case I need to use it to answer a question or look into something during the night. The person in my dream seemed to be moving towards me. When they were right next to me, the sounds they made indicated that they had picked up the bag with the Heartwood inside. My pulse quickened, and I began to panic. The Heartwood has always been such an important part of me, and I’ve had it for so long... I didn’t know what to do. I tried to wake up…and felt a great need to protect the Heartwood, but then I stopped as I heard the person whisper something. I listened carefully but couldn’t understand what they were saying. Then, at that very same moment, the dream abruptly disappeared from my mind, and I fell back into a deep and peaceful slumber. 

“I must have stayed that way for some time, but gradually my concern and worry about the dream resurfaced, and this time, I actually woke up, rolled over, and reached for the bag… I felt immense relief! The bag lay where it always had, and the Heartwood was still inside.

Then the sound of the raging storm outside, still pounding against my bedroom window, caught my attention. I sat up and tried to look through the glass, but in truth, I could hardly see beyond my outstretched hand – my bedroom almost completely devoid of light. It was then that the memory of the dream resurfaced. It had seemed so real to me. I tried to use my senses, despite the storm and the inky blackness, to make sure that no one was actually in my home. As I did, I heard a brushing sound, and out of the corner of one of my eyes, I couldn’t help thinking that I saw the shadow of someone stepping out of my bedroom and vanishing. I knew it was probably just my imagination, but I had to know one way or the other. I quickly lit a candle on my bedside table, got out of bed, and checked everywhere in the cottage. I heard no other noises and saw no other shadows. Everything seemed exactly as I’d left it before going to bed.

“My heart was pounding. Part of me thought that it had all been real, but another part knew it was simply a dream. Then my mind returned to the Heartwood, and I walked back into my bedroom. I took it out of the bag, and engaged with it. If there had been someone in my cottage, and they had touched it or tried to use it, I would have known. But, just as my cottage did not show any evidence of the shadow I’d seen, the Heartwood did the same. No one had touched it or tried to join with it.

“Gradually…I slept a bit more, but only in fits and starts. And as I mentioned before, the dream was so real and unusual that it has bothered me every day since. What d’ye think, Obsidian? Could it have been real? D’ye think someone was here?”

 Obsidian could easily see that Una had been profoundly affected by the dream she’d had. She didn’t want to give Una an answer without thinking carefully about it. It took her a few moments, but then she finally said, “Una, I know how important the Heartwood is to you, and I know you’re constantly thinking about your upcoming ascension. Deep inside, within your subconscious mind, I’m sure you have a great many worries and concerns about someone stopping you from becoming the Hermaphrodite. Anyone in your situation, with all that pressure and with so many people counting on you, would be. But to me…it doesn’t sound as if anyone was really here. Your dream, most likely, came from an extremely deep and heavy sleep where all of your worries coalesced into that terrible nightmare. It has to be that! Don’t you think?”

Una nodded and agreed. “Aye…you’re probably right, but just to be safe, especially with my ascension so close, I’m going to place a protection spell around my cottage every night. It will wake me if anyone tries to enter. I’ll sleep better that way…”

Then Obsidian noticed a red blaze in the pupils of Una’s eyes and a flash of anger in her voice as she said, “And…if anyone does try to make their way inside, they won’t live to talk about it. That I’ll guarantee…!”

Update for Book III Of The Alban Saga: THE VORTEX

 

The Vortex is the third and final book of the fantasy series called The Alban Saga. Beatrice was Book I and Black Grotto  Book II. I'm almost done with Chapter 22 titled "Aran's Great Struggle."

The Vortex is going to be about 31 chapters long, with the final chapter being the "Epilogue." I'm hoping to complete and publish it sometime during the fall of 2024. Maybe sooner if everything goes well!

Fingers Crossed!

Below is a short excerpt from Chapter 22.

Over the previous days and nights, Aran had lain in the tall grass in two distinct forms of hell. In one, he was completely comatose, in a deep fog of unconsciousness - a black, empty hole of non-existence. In the other, he endured a partial awareness, just cognizant enough to comprehend that something horrible was causing him severe confusion, pain, and suffering. In those moments, he could feel himself screaming for help and sense his body struggling mightily against whatever was inside him.

Then, without warning, his situation was altered. He no longer felt as utterly alone and desolate. Something or someone had arrived, providing a bit of solace and comfort. For the first time since entering this living nightmare, a calmness began to wash over him. He could sense the light of reality far off in the distance, and in that moment, he felt the touch of another human being, first on his shoulder and then his face - a hand brushing across his forehead.

Aran desperately wanted to open his eyes and speak, but as of yet, that was impossible. He was still held in the grip of incongruity and confusion. He did the only thing he could. He transformed his focus from what was going on inside to whomever it was that had touched him. The change was small but significant.

Then something else entered his awareness...

Chapter 18 Excerpt From Book III Of The Alban Saga: THE VORTEX

 

In this passage, Erin the Prophet is sleeping in the Cave of Dreams and has a vision. 

Chapter 18 Excerpt

It wasn’t until the fire waned and was reduced to embers that Erin the Prophet finally collapsed from exhaustion. He’d been thrashing from side to side most of the night - his subconscious awash in despair and guilt at being the one responsible for bringing Bea into his realm. He had brought her to help stop Una and Obsidian from altering Grandma Rose’s fate and had promised her his guidance and support. But he had failed, not only in that task, but in his promise to find Aran and bring him back to her. 

As Erin looked back on all that had happened, he did his best to understand his failures, but it was difficult for him. After all, he was the High Priest of his people and the ultimate Druid Prophet of his time. His connection with Earth’s magic had always been prodigious, and he could never recall a time when he felt helpless or unable to act on someone’s need. But now, not only had he failed Bea, he had become consumed with confusion and feelings of inadequacy. Something that had never happened before.

However, despite all of the upheaval within him, Erin never awakened. In fact, he sensed himself sinking deeper and deeper into a troubled slumber, even as other questions seethed up and pounded hard against his skull: How was he to reach out to Bea and help her with her current dilemma? How could he fulfill his promise to find and bring Aran back to her? How was he going to stop Una and Obsidian now?

His remorse grew and expanded into the early morning hours until he arrived at what he knew to be a significant juncture of this dreamscape. He felt his mind quiet somewhat, and he sensed that he would either be ushered back towards reality and find himself once again gazing into the soft embers of the fire inside the Cave of Dreams, or…he would sink ever-deeper into this hellish nightmare, caught between slumber and the plethora of difficulties boiling up within his subconscious.

 

 He did not have to wait long for an answer. He remained asleep, still carried along by dreams, but no longer fraught with anxiety and confusion. He was now enveloped in an all-embracing calm. His body eased its flailing movement, and the myriad questions firing within his mind fell away. It was as if he now lay upon a cushion of air, floating lazily on the soft waters of tranquility. Then, in whatever state this was, he was able to open his eyes. The sky above was ink-black and filled with bright pin-pricks of light - a billion stars set against the vastness of space. Whatever remained of his anxiety and guilt melted away, and without actually making a conscious decision to do so, he rolled over and gazed downward. Directly below, he saw on a massive orb. It hung, seemingly unsupported, against the backdrop of the night sky – a blue ball with various shades of colour brushed across its surface. He had never seen such a magnificent sight. It humbled him and took his breath away! Then he noticed a second smaller orb, hovering farther in the distance, awash in an effervescent, white light with patches of grey scattered across its surface. This he recognized. It was the moon – the same moon that he had gazed upon all of his life as it crossed the skies of Alba. Then it hit him: Could the other more massive orb be mother Earth?

With that astonishing thought, Erin then began to feel his body more concretely. He became heavier and no longer floated easily above the huge ball in the sky. He began moving downwards towards it. At first, his descent was imperceptibly slow, but as he progressed, his momentum increased. He began to panic. His arms and legs flailed for purchase where there was none, in an effort to somehow slow his progress, as his plunge downwards towards the huge orb persisted at an even wilder, mind-numbing pace. His heart pounded uncontrollably, and he gasped at the horror flying up towards him. Then he did the only thing left to him. He screamed and yelled over and over, venting his wide-eyed terror at the gargantuan sphere rising up to meet him!

Erin’s mind fought against the inevitability of his fate. He closed his eyes, knowing that only seconds remained before he would meet a horrible and violent end, but…the seconds passed, and he was still alive.

Erin opened his eyes. He lay, still frightened and trembling but unharmed, in the damp, tall grass of a meadow on a cold, cloudy day. He sat up, doing his best to grasp what had just happened. Was he still asleep in the same traumatic dreamscape, or was he now actually and truly awake? The truth…he simply had no idea.

He checked to make sure that he was still in one piece. It seemed he was, so he studied the area around where he’d landed. It seemed familiar, like he’d been there before. A small hill lay in front of him only a short distance away. He felt a need to see what was on the other side, so he stood and walked towards its crest.

  Once there, he looked down. The feeling he’d had of somehow knowing this place was confirmed. Sprawling out in front of him lay the city of Edinburgh. It was the Edinburgh, not of his time, when it had only been a small village, but of a time in the future when he had traveled there by Vortex, when it was a much larger, walled city with a castle at its center. He walked down the hill, weaving his way along its streets and narrow alleyways, as if he knew his destination. He ended up in front of an old inn. He read its name. It was called the Sheep’s Heid Inn. Walking through the front doors, he saw people sitting at rough-hewn tables eating, drinking, and talking. No one looked in his direction or paid him any mind. It was as if he was invisible. He ignored them as well and moved in the direction of a narrow stairway. Looking upwards, he felt the need to see what was at the top of the stairs. Reaching the landing, he walked straight ahead down a hallway, staring at several doors as he passed, wondering who might be within. Then he turned and looked back in the direction he had come. As he did, one of the doors opened. Voices could be heard emanating from inside the room. 

Chapter 15 Excerpt From Book III Of The Alban Saga: THE VORTEX

In this passage, Aran is just awakening from something "The Keeper" has done to him. 

Chapter 15 Excerpt

The water of a small stream bubbled up and swirled its way over rocks and dark soil, separating and bending clumps of grass as it slid downwards off a sloping hill. Birds chirped and sang in the cool, early morning dew that clung to rocks and earth blanketed the emerald meadow and dampened the breeze that moved and eddied gently over the land.

Aran lay in the grass nearby, limp and unconscious. A tiny ember of awareness awakening within him. He remained as inert as a rock or lump of soil, but there was life there, too. The firing of just enough neurons had allowed a simple awareness of body and surroundings to ensue.

Then the need and desire to move sparked within him, and the tip of his swollen and dry tongue was the first part of him to do so. He gradually slipped it between his lips, immediately sensing how parched and dry his mouth had become as well as a dreadful stiffness in his jaw.

His first actual thought: ‘Bloody hell, what’s happened to me?’

Chapter 13 Excerpt From Book III Of The Alban Saga: THE VORTEX

In this passage, Bea is in a coma. Her mother, Fiona Bauman, and her Druid teacher, Anu Gren, have joined forces in order to enter Bea's mind. Once inside, they attempt to help her by communicating with her Earth-Mother, Beatrice Darrow.

Chapter 13 Excerpt

A heavy, velvet curtain of shadow, almost tangible in its breadth and width, surrounded Fiona and Anu. Yearning for light, they both felt themselves reach out for protection and balance, as any person would in the dark. Then Anu, using their combined magical energy, extended their minds into the gloom. Far away in the distance, they suddenly saw lightning-like flashes, arcing from one long tendril of neural matter to another. Anu moved the two of them towards the jagged shards, only halting when they were close enough to be repulsed by their heat and intensity. They were now at the epicenter of Bea’s subconscious. It was a good sign that, at least in this part of her mind, the neurons continued to be active. If her Earth-Mother was to be found anywhere, it would be here.

 

Anu reached out and said, “Beatrice, my name is Anu Gren, are you here? Bea needs your help.”

 

With Anu’s words, the flickering bolts surrounding her and Fiona increased in intensity and volume, for a time. Then, almost as abruptly as they had begun, they lessened, and a voice, slow and measured, said, “I am drowsy and weak…but…I am here.”

 

With Beatrice’s response, Fiona and Anu were relieved, then Anu asked, “Do you know what happened to Bea? Can you help her?”

 

“…I do…but I’m afraid my ability to talk with her is limited…not only…by how I, too, have been affected…but because…Bea’s conscious mind is dark.”

 

“Is it dark all the time? What about when she’s having those horrible dreams?”

 

“…is the only time that I have…a sense of her.”

 

“So…can you bring her out of this darkness?”

 

“I cannae…too deep…”

 

Sensing that Fiona was pushing her to ask more, Anu said, “If you can’t help her out of her coma, can you stop the nightmares? They're taking an awful toll on her.”

 

“…can do that…can stop them…when happen…I think…”

 

Anu could tell that Beatrice was becoming even more weary and less coherent, so she said, “I can tell this is difficult for you, but please help Bea as much as you can. Fiona and I will leave now. Tha sinn a’ toirt taing dhut bho ar cridheachan…”

 

“…aye…”

 

And with Beatrice’s final response, Fiona and Anu floated away from the fierce glimmering lights of Bea’s subconscious and back into the limitless night of her conscious thought. They remained there a moment, then opened their eyes.

 

New Book Excerpt - Chapter 9 of THE VORTEX: Book III Of The Alban Saga

The Vortex: Book III of the Alban Saga

Below is a short excerpt from Chapter 9. Those of you who have read the other two books in the Alban Saga will recognize the characters mentioned in this section.

Bea and Aran entered the candlelit commons of the Sheep’s Heid Inn and were immediately assailed by the pervasive smells of roasted meats, ale, and crumbly cheese. A haze of smoke from the hearth fire touched the air, along with the scent of bodies, crowded together on old, crudely-made stools and tables. The sound of conversations and wooden tableware permeated the room, as eyes glanced their way, focusing mostly on Aran, then returning to their food and banter.

Aran sensed their gaze and did his best to act normal, even as the overpowering smells and sites of the medieval pub assaulted his senses. Lowering his head and wrinkling his nose, he whispered, “Jesus, I don’t know if I can stay here . . .”

This caused Bea to recall how she, too, had been affected upon her own arrival at the inn. Chuckling to herself, she explained, “Ye get used to it. Come on, follow me.”

She took Aran’s hand and guided him through the commons and up some well-worn stairs to her room. She pushed the door open. They walked inside. To their left was a small wooden table with a candle on it. Below the table was a stool, just like the ones Aran had seen as they entered the inn. On the opposite wall was a bed with a straw-stuffed mattress covered by a disheveled woolen blanket. The bed itself was plenty big for one person, but two . . . it would be a tight fit.

Bea could tell what Aran was thinking by the look on his face. Before he could speak, she walked over, lit the candle, gave him a shy smile, and said, “Aye, Aran, the room’s not much, and I know the bed’s small . . . At least it’s a place to stay, and I don’t think anyone will bother us once I get you some less conspicuous clothes."

“Aye . . .”

New Book Excerpt: Chapter 8 Of THE VORTEX: Book III of the Alban Saga

The Vortex: Book III of the Alban Saga

Below, I've included the beginning three paragraphs of Chapter 8. Those of you who have read the other two books in the Alban Saga will recognize the characters mentioned in this section.

Chapter 8

Bea’s Quest

15 December 2026

 

 

The sound of birds nearby engaged in their early morning calls was the first thing that touched Bea’s senses. She felt drugged and dizzy and couldn’t open her eyes without the world spinning about her. She felt ill, but the bird songs calmed her. The first rays of the rising sun lit up the undersides of her eyelids, and she stretched to rouse herself and fight off her nauseating sickness. As she did, a slight breeze floated over her skin and caused what sounded like the rustle of leaves overhead. Flexing her fingers, she also noticed damp blades of grass beneath her. She clutched and pulled at them, continuing to fight her way back to consciousness. 

 

With her eyes still shut, she began to recall what had happened. She had just left Erin standing outside the Cave of Dreams and had used her magic, her staff, and the power of her mind to call up a Vortex. She had guided its direction and purpose with a vision of the location and time of her first destination. She was to travel inside the walls of the ancient city of Edinburgh on 1 June, 1566 and arrive near the base of a hill leading up to its great castle. Of course, she had never seen it during that time period, so Erin had helped her place the correct picture in her mind allowing her to arrive at the safest spot during the best time of day in order to avoid being discovered. She also remembered him telling her that on this first attempt at using the Vortex she might lose consciousness as she neared her destination, especially considering she would be traveling over such a long and difficult expanse of time. If she did, he urged her to allow herself to first recover from the journey and then determine if she had made it to the correct place and time – all this before beginning her search for Obsidian.

 

Not only was she nauseated from the journey, her whole body ached, including her head. It pounded terribly, but she had to ignore her symptoms as much as she could and force herself to become fully aware and mobile. She didn’t want to lay there incapacitated very long. So, she stretched and slowly raised the heavy lids of her eyes. Forcing them open and beginning to focus on the area around her, she sat up slowly and noticed that she was hidden within a small copse of trees on a sloping hillside. She was alone, at least for the moment. Glancing up the hill, she could see the walls of what looked like Edinburgh Castle.

 

THE VORTEX: BOOK III OF THE ALBAN SAGA - Working on Chapter 7

 

The Vortex: Book III of the Alban Saga

Below, I've included a short excerpt from the beginning of chapter 7. Those of you who have read the other two books in the Alban Saga will recognize the characters in this section.

Chapter 7

 

During a long and restless night, Bea had been swimming amidst layers and layers of dreams on a stream of subconscious thought. As her mind finally slowed, it came to rest on a vision of her with Aran on the last night she’d spent at her family’s estate – the night before leaving to confront the Druid Priestess, Brenna.

   Brenna had been the one who had caused the deaths of her grandmama Elizabeth, her grandmama’s chum, Marta Pottinger, and Fergus Lister, a long-time friend of the family. All three had been in their nineties, but were still healthy and vibrant. Bea had found them in their beds along with a note from Brenna. In it, she admitted to ending their lives and had taunted Bea to come to the Cave of Dreams alone and face her. Bea had been devastated beyond belief at what had happened and never would have made it through the weeks that followed if not for her two dear friends, Anu Grenn and Aran. 

Seeing Aran in her dream, Bea suddenly recalled how strong her feelings had become for him. It was the first time those feelings had resurfaced since that night, and she knew why. She had not had room in her life for anything but her obsession with stopping Brenna.

Anu and Aran had begged her not to confront the powerful Priestess on her own. However, Bea would not be deterred. So Anu, who had been Bea’s Druid instructor on the Orkney Isles and a powerful Wiccan in her own right, convinced Bea to at least remain awhile and spend the next several weeks training for what lie ahead.

While working with Anu, Bea had no time for Aran, but afterwards, the two finally had their chance; and that was the moment that Bea was visualizing in her dream. The two of them were sitting together at the center of an ancient oak grove on her estate having a picnic. They had eaten good food and sipped a dram or two of fine whisky. They’d even laughed a bit for the first time in weeks.

As the night went on, she and Aran had held each other close . . . comforted each other . . . and they had kissed . . . for the first time. Recalling that single kiss lingered in Bea’s memory and deepened her feelings for him even more. However, it also dredged up the sting of worry and fear within her because she had no idea where he was or what had happened to him since they had been separated inside the Vortex. It was almost too much to abide, and the panic of that thought awakened her. Her eyes flew open, and as they did, she sensed the coolness of tears gliding down her face. Brushing them away, she sat up and wrapped her arms around herself in comfort. Then she noticed someone sitting on the floor nearby. She turned her head slightly and saw the venerable prophet, Erin.

He reached out with his gnarled, wrinkled hand and lightly touched her shoulder. His eyes were warm with care and concern as he muttered, “Ye alright, lass?”

“Aye, I will be . . . just need a minute, though.”

Erin poured a cup of tea for her with lots of sugar. Bea accepted it and cradled it in the palms of her hands.

Erin waited for Bea to speak. He had noticed her tears, but he’d also caught sight of a faraway look in her eyes as she softly slid two fingers across her lips. He couldn’t help but ask if she had been dreaming about Aran.

Bea simply nodded as he said, “Ye have feelings for the lad, aye?

 

Back To Work on BOOK III OF THE ALBAN SAGA!

The Vortex: Book III of the Alban Saga

 

I promised myself and you in my last blog entry that I would get back to work after my episode with "writer's block". I have, and I've been working on Chapter 6. I wanted to provide you with a short excerpt from the beginning of that chapter. If you've read the other books in the Alban Saga, you'll recognize the characters and the setting.

Bea raised up on one elbow, lulled by the soft, morning sounds within the darkened chamber. Attempting to clear the sleep from her eyes, she rubbed them and then gazed in the direction of Erin’s bedroll. There was just enough light from the coals of last night’s fire to see that he had not yet returned.

“Damn . . .” she muttered to herself.

It had been three days since the prophet had entered the adjoining chamber – the Black Grotto. He’d been there meditating and searching for Aran and had promised Bea that he could locate him quickly and reunite the two of them. However, it was clearly more of a problem than he’d thought it would be. She made up her mind that if he wasn’t back within the next hour or two, she’d go in after him, whether he wanted her to or not.

Sitting up the rest of the way, Bea threw her blanket off and reached for the clothes that Erin had brought for her. She put them on and quickly re-braided her disheveled hair, pulled on a stocking cap, and crawled over to the fire ring. The main chamber of the cave was chilly and damp. Grabbing a small amount of tinder, some kindling, and a block of peat, she used those items, along with the remaining coals, to restart the fire. She heated up some water for tea and took some scones and cheese out of the food bag that Erin had brought. She was starving.

Drinking her tea and eating, she kept listening for Erin, hoping that he would emerge at any moment, but the only sounds that caught her ear were the crackling of the newly lit fire and the hushed, slow susurration of the water, constantly flowing over the obsidian crystals that lay at the entrance between the Black Grotto and the larger pool within the Cave of Dreams. Gazing at those dark, gleaming crystals, she realized that Erin must also be awake. She could see the light of his fire reflected in them.

Bea finished her food and tea, rinsed her cup in the bubbling, hot water, and decided she could wait no longer. She moved around the edge of the pool and was about to step into it to enter the Black Grotto when she suddenly noticed Erin’s head peeking out of the opening within the rock wall.

“What ye up to, lass?” he queried.

“I was just about to come in and check on ye. It’s been three days, Erin!”

“Wait there. I’ll be out in a minute.”

Bea returned to the fire and sat down. It wasn’t long before Erin exited the passageway, made his way across the Reckoning Pool, and stepped out onto the flat rocks near his bedroll. He laid his bag of supplies and what was left of the food that he’d taken with him onto his blanket. Then he shook off as much of the water as he could from his dripping clothes, sat down beside Bea, and cozied up to the warmth of the peat fire.

“Glad ye have the fire goin’, lass. There’s a bit o’ breeze comin’ in the cave this mornin’, aye?”

Bea gave Erin a slight smile and a nod as she answered, “Aye…” Then she couldn’t wait any longer and asked, “So . . . did ye learn anything? Do ye know where Aran is?” From the look on his face and his slight hesitation, she could tell immediately that he had no idea of Aran’s whereabouts. Obviously disappointed, she said, “Ye didn’t learn a thing after all that time?”

Back To Work On BOOK III Of The Alban Saga: "THE VORTEX"

 

Here's a short excerpt from the beginning of chapter 4 of my latest book entitled THE VORTEX. It will be the third and final book of the Alban Saga.

Chapter 4

The Sacrifice

2500 BC

After many days of travel on foot, the old Druid priest named Ferus and his nine followers crested a short rise.  It was a clear and cool evening, and they could easily see the long avenue of stones in the distance that led up to the great circle. It was as if the gods themselves had placed the large, flat standing stones in the ground to guide them. And as they gazed down upon the ancient and sacred site, Ferus lowered the hood of his robe, raised his staff in the air, and called out its ancient and holy name, “Clachan Chalanais!”

It was early spring on the Isle of Alba and would soon be time to plant, harvest, and hunt the foods necessary to sustain life throughout the wet Alban year. Barley, wheat, rye, and millet would be planted along with leeks, onions, turnips, carrots, and parsnips. Wild nuts, such as hazelnuts and walnuts, would be harvested during the late summer and fall, and boar, deer, fox, beaver, and bear would be hunted year-round. Also, the fishing season was almost upon them.

The Druids, led by their priest, had come to Clachan Chalanais on one of the smaller isles of Alba to perform a ritual to their gods. In two nights’ time, a full, yellow moon would rise and skim the southern hills in the distance. When it did, a human sacrifice would be given - another bountiful harvest ensured. Alba had been a land of great plenty for the Celtic people for as long as anyone could remember, and the Druid’s Spring Harvest Ritual had always occurred to ensure that bounty.

After taking a moment to glory in the sight of the timeworn monoliths, Ferus guided his fellow Druids down the hill. They entered the path that was set off by the stones, leading up to the main circle. Once there, they would start a fire, take their supplies from the back of their small packhorse, and prepare the night’s meal. It had been a long and arduous journey, and Ferus knew that everyone needed rest.

With their goal finally in sight, they had all walked swiftly to the sacred stone circle. Once there, the nine Druids followed Ferus's lead. They knelt down on one knee and allowed the soul of Clachan Chalanais to wash over them. The massive stones, much taller than any of them, rose high into the evening sky like ageless giants reaching up to honour the gods, the moon, the stars, the sun, and the seasons of the earth.

After several moments of meditation, Ferus rose up off his knee and stood. His followers emulated him, and at his direction, they began setting up camp. Once all the supplies were taken from the small, sturdy gearran, it was tethered in the tall grass and allowed to graze and drink from a nearby pool.

The supplies were then distributed. Woolen blankets were laid out to sleep on, and the extra food and supplies were stored in a stone-covered hole nearby. Wood shavings, pieces of kindle, and bricks of dried peat were placed in a small fire ring at the center of the circle of stones and lit; they would provide comfort and warmth for the coming night. As each of them settled onto their blankets, their dinner, consisting of oatcakes, roasted nuts, and dried legumes, was allocated in equal portions, and a flask of wine was shared by all. When they were done eating, they waited, knowing Ferus would want to speak to them.

He said, “Our journey has been long, and we have finally reached our destination. Tomorrow, I will take three of you to visit the nearby villages with me. In each of them, we will talk to the Elders until we find an outcast who has broken their rules. That person will be our Sacrifice for tomorrow night’s ritual, and as has always been the custom, the village Elders will gladly give them up, knowing that in so doing, their sacrifice will honour the gods, and the land will again provide a bountiful harvest for us all.

“But tonight…we sleep.”

The nine Druids nodded and bowed their heads in acceptance. Then they laid back onto their blankets and were warmed by the fire and the knowledge that they were there to follow the time-honoured traditions of their forefathers and do the work of their god’s.