"And thus the fortunes of Thornhaven were linked with those of the elves. By use of vile enchantments the Lord of Green Silences, as the elf Evayanan called himself, caused his folk to prosper whilst across the bay Thornhaven diminished.

These elves that had suddenly appeared in only one night were not of the same sort as men had known beforehand. They were taller, yet they were not thin, but rather well proportioned. They referred to themselves as the Sithryn or Sith, and their language was harsher than any elven dialect men had ever heard. Fair of face, graceful in stride and the arts, still they proved crafty in warfare. Men were easily beguiled by them.

It was because of this that God punished the lords and people of Thornhaven: that they were tempted by demons and were weak.

Lord Aelfric Thorn, he who first met and dealt with the demon Sithryn, ruled for twenty years more after that, dying after a feast with guests from the Green Silences. Those who attended him claimed that after retiring to his room for the night, Aelfric suffered a fit of apoplexy, falling over dead after his face turned purple during a fit of rage. Even so, the common folk held it was Sithryn magic that had killed him.

He was succeeded by his son, Osric, who had fought bitterly with Aelfric many times over divers matters, but who mourned his death with many tears. Osric inherited a domain with little money in its coffers and was infamous for his thrifty ways, and was known to his people as Osric the Miser. It was during his reign that the troubles between the Church and the line of Thorn began, as Osric several times seized funds from the priests to be used for his own ends.

Despite all his wicked deeds, Lord Osric did not prosper and in the seventeenth year of his rule, died after a loose tile fell off the roof of the hall and struck him down.

He was succeeded by his son Edwin, who ruled five years and was so unremarkable a man, he was dead two days before it was noticed he had not been seen by his family or servants.

His brother, Wulfstan, next ruled, and held Thornhaven for fifteen years, always watching the Sithryn grow wealthy while his lands grew poorer. It was during his time that the Druids returned and found favor in court. Even so, many of the pagans did not stay overlong, claiming that the one of their fellowship most favored by the Lord of Thornhaven followed the darker paths away from those of light. (although any unbeliever who denies the one true Faith can not truly know the Light.)

Any road, there were whispers among the castle staff of late night meetings in Lord Wulfstan's study, and of strange lights and smells. When the lone priest still left at Thornhaven's church went to Wulfstan to protest these deeds and urge the baron back to the ways of Mother Church, he was sent away with harsh words, and as he left the main door, a great wind came up, and once more a loose tile fell and killed the hapless priest. The towns folk mourned him, but Wulfstan did not send word to the bishop that there was now no shepherd for the faithful in Thornhaven, and the church was dark, and fell into disrepair.

Nor did the Lord of Thornhaven order repairs to the castle roof. "

-The Chronicles of Thorn

**********

"Well, they're leaving. And without any torches to light their way. I hope they ride off a damn cliff and break their perfect necks."

"Not likely, milord. Elves see better in the dark than humans."

Wulfstan gave a contemptuous snort and turned to regard his Druid adviser. "I know that, Duaderyn. But have the courtesy to leave me a few fantasies, will you? Just once I'd like to see a less than perfect elf: a wart, a mole, flatulence, just once. Ah, never mind. It's my neck. A night staring up at them makes it ache." He looked over at a chair in the corner which held a young girl in a white robe. "Is this the one you told me about? She sees the future?"

Duaderyn bobbed his head like the creature he was named after, then moved to fetch a small tripod over to the center of the room. Atop it burned a brazier, and the girl rose at the druid's signal to approach and stand by him. "Aye, Nualla has the gift of foresight, and tonight she shall put that gift at your disposal, Lord Wulfstan. Ask but one question, though. Any more might prove fatal."

"To the girl?"

"To us all. Now, do not speak again until its time." Duaderyn waved the girl closer to the brazier as he took some dried herbs from a pouch and sprinkled them on the hot coals. They curled from the heat, and gray smoke began to pour into the air. Wulfstan barely stopped himself from shouting in alarm. And then Duaderyn thrust his bare arm out, and something short and curved sliced across the druid's flesh before vanishing. A knife, thought the shocked Wulfstan, thinking the smoke had obscured its appearance. The smoke turned darker, but amazingly, the girl leaned her face into it, taking great racking breaths, until at last she began to tumble backwards. But Duaderyn reached out to steady her. He turned to look at Wulfstan, and nodded. "Ask your question. Quickly!"

Wulfstan looked across the room at the girl, his eyes burning with tears from the smoke, then gathered his wits and chose his words carefully.

"How can Thornhaven defeat the Green Silences? "


01/2003


The Seeking XXI

"What, by all the gods, am I supposed to learn from that?"

Wulfstan took a swallow of mead and glared at Duaderyn. The maid was gone, escorted from the room by a pair of the Druid's acolytes who'd also removed the brazier with great care. Except for the fading scent of the burned herbs there was no sign that anything unusual had occurred. Now the Saxon lord and his advisor sat on stools by the room's small hearth as Wulfstan tried to understand the words of the prophecy.

Duaderyn hoped this was not going to take all night.

"`The Sithryn realm from this world goes when a blackthorn is borne by the silver rose.' " Wulfstan shook his head. "What sort of idiot raving is this? You are sure she can see the future?"

"She foretold the priest's death, didn't she? Her words were good enough on that, weren't they?" Duaderyn set his drink aside and moved his hands closer to the fire. "She merely says the words, milord. It is up to you to understand them and then act upon them. But allow me to help you in this. I believe that the `silver rose' refers to Lord Evaynan's clan."

Wulstan grunted at that. "Fine. But there's no Blackthorn clan that I know of in these parts." He squinted against the firelight. "I suppose I could send out men to seek someone by that name. So what does it mean about a "Blackthorn is borne by a Silver Rose?"

Duaderyn fumed inwardly. Leading Wulfstan to a desired conclusion was always a tiring exercise, but dealing with a Wulfstan who was in his cups was exasperating. The Druid's voice betrayed none of his impatience as he steered the conversation carefully where it must go. "I suppose it's meant in usual sense, as in the way a child is borne by its mother."

"A child? A child will cause the fall of the Green Silences?"

"Not necessarily a child in age, but aye, a son or daughter of both lineages; a child, perhaps, of your line."

Wulfstan's laugh boomed out and a bit of mead spilled out of his cup onto the floor. "Duaderyn, you amuse me. My mating with one of Evaynan's women would be like a lap dog courting a wolfhound. Besides, I'm not a Blackthorn."

"But you could be, milord. Family names have changed in the past. As for the rest, the maid merely foretold the future, she did not say when it would come to pass. You must think and plan as the head of your family, looking forwards to a success you might not live to see. The prophecy might not be fulfilled for several generations."

Wulfstan stared thoughtfully at the fire. "The blackthorn tree has some significance to you druids, doesn't it?"

"It's sacred to Morrigan, the Goddess of War. It symbolizes cleansing, healing and death."

"I like that." Wulfstan's smile was fierce. "I'll say I've had a dream, that an angel bade me change my family name from Thorn to Blackthorn, so that my land and people would once more know prosperity. And they will, druid, for the Blackthorns will cleanse the world of the Sithryn, and by their death heal our fortunes! What say you, Duaderyn? Do you care if I make you into an angel for my own purposes?"

"I've been many things when such is called for, milord. An angel shall be yet another, and only you and I will know the truth, shall we not, as we do in other matters?"

Wulfstan nodded, then took a long swallow of mead, staring silently for a few minutes at the fire before speaking once more. "There's still the difference in size; the Sithryn are so much taller than us."

"You're of Saxon blood, milord. They are a tall people themselves, as humans go. It's the brides your forefathers chose from among the Britons that has caused your family to be smaller and darker in recent days."

"Then I will arrange marriages for my sons with the Norse or Danes. Perhaps my grandsons or their sons will stand taller and more on a level with the Sithryn. And I shall find scholars to tutor them and train them in all things, including magic, for I suspect the prophecy will depend upon in the end, eh? Come, a drink to the future!" He signaled a servant to come and refill their cups. "Then we'll discuss bigger wives for my sons."

An hour later, when Wulfstan had drank too much mead and had staggered off to bed, Duaderyn the Druid slipped out of the room into the dimly lit hallway, nodding briefly to the warrior standing guard at his lord's door. The guard watched as the robed figure walked off down the corridor, then he moved his fingers in the sign to ward off evil.

Perhaps it had been a trick of the flickering torchlight, but as the mysterious priest left Wulfstan's chambers, it seemed for a brief second his eyes had shone red.

*********

"So in the ninth year of his rule, Lord Wulfstan Thorn proclaimed a visitation from an angel had revealed to him how he must change his family name to Blackthorn in order for the fortune of Thornhaven to change and the people prosper. This he did on St Bridget's Day, or Imbolc as the pagans call it, with much celebration. On this same day he announced the betrothal of his two sons to the daughters of a lord from the Dane Mark, and there was held a great feast in their honor.

Despite an angel having come to him in a dream, Wulfstan did not take this as a sign to restore the church and send for a new priest, but rather kept the druid sorcerer by his side. Noticing this, in time the faithful came to believe it was not an angel that visited Lord Blackthorn, but a demon….

…Wulfstan was succeeded by his eldest son Cynwulf, who had close ties to the Danes, his wife's folk, some of whom settled in Thornhaven. Cynwulf ruled for twenty-one years and was well liked by his people. During his rule the church was restored in Thornhaven and a priest arrived to tend it, but Cynwulf himself kept his father's druid by his side, and turned to him for advice and council instead of God…

Halfdan the Tall ruled after his father Cynwulf…"

- The Chronicles of Thorn

01/2003