Disclaimers: The Highlander/Raven characters are copyright to Davis/Panzer. No copyright infringement is intended or revenue expected from their use. The story plot and other characters are copyright to the author, Maril Swan.

Note: This story takes place after "Dead on Arrival".

The Raven and the Rose
A Fable
by Maril Swan

Part two

Chapter Three: The Wild Hunt

The hut took only a few days to frame and several more to completely cover with its wattle-and-daub coating. Its rough furnishings were similar to Myrddhin's own. All the while they worked together on the construction of the tiny cottage, Myrddhin taught Amanda his ancient lore. The days became weeks, then months as the wheel of the seasons turned. The month of Vine passed and the month of Ivy began with the nights getting cooler, and frost rime decorated the leaves which fell increasingly to the forest floor.

Myrddhin seemed pleased with his new pupil. She learned and remembered, questioned and debated. Before long, Amanda had a large pharmacopoeia of her own plant gatherings, and had woven baskets and made pottery vessels to store them. The outside world ceased to exist as every waking moment was devoted to learning.

Mentor and student spent most of their time together, partaking of meals in Myrddhin's hut. Food was plentiful as they gathered and stored what the forest gave so bountifully. His own sparse regimen of nuts, grains, berries, herbs, roots and fungi seemed to satisfy Myrddhin, but Amanda found, as time went on, that she longed for some meat to supplement her diet. Her body craved it but she set no traps nor slew any creatures for food. Fearing Myrddhin's displeasure, Amanda tried to reconcile herself to giving up animal flesh, as he had told her the creatures of the earth were as sacred to the goddess as humans. He had vowed to kill no creatures and shed no blood. He seemed to expect Amanda to accept this too.

Early one frosty morning late in the month of Ivy, Amanda had wandered some distance from the Sanctuary. She had learned from Myrddhin how to orient herself in the great forest, with or without the sun, and so had the confidence to roam increasingly further afield. She felt no Presence, and the relief of that pressure made her feel truly free for the first time in many weeks.

An interesting plant attracted her attention as she knelt to examine it. She plucked a sample and placed it in her pouch, planning to bring it to Myrddhin to identify. A rustle and snorting nearby made Amanda go perfectly still. Carefully, she slid her knife from its scabbard as the sounds came closer. What is it, she wondered, a wild boar? Myrddhin had warned her of these savage, unpredictable creatures whose long tusks could gore a human to death.

"That's the least of my worries," she thought, "But I don't think even an Immortal could come back from being eaten by a wild beast." Scarcely breathing, her senses tautly alert, Amanda remained hidden behind a tree trunk, watching and listening intently. The creature was large, she was sure, as the cracking of twigs suggested a great weight. Did it know where she was? Probably not yet, she thought, trying not to move though her muscles were aching from the cramped position she was holding.

A sudden bellow broke from the beast as it came into view only a short distance from where she knelt. A huge antlered stag shuffled out of the underbrush, tossing its head and testing the air for scents. Its own musky odour wafted to her and Amanda realized she was downwind from it.

"It doesn't sense me yet," she thought, as she watched it browsing among the leaves. The stag pawed the earth and pulled up clumps of green plants, chewing loudly, oblivious to the human only a few paces away.

Amanda found herself estimating the distance between them and formulating a plan. "I need meat for this winter," she rationalized, "and warmer clothing. The hide could make a cloak and footwear." Her mouth dry and her heart pounding, she waited as the stag wandered still closer.

Suddenly, she sprang from cover, crossing the distance in a few strides, and leaping on the stag's back. Her knife slashed its throat even as it tossed her, and it rushed her on the ground, thrusting its antlers and catching her ribs painfully. She leapt at him again as he staggered from the first wound, and with another slash to its throat, brought it down. The stag snorted loudly and its lungs chuffed like a bellows as its life ebbed away. The moist dark eyes watched her as their light finally faded.

Panting hard from her exertion, Amanda fell to her knees beside the lifeless stag. Gently, she touched its velvety brown coat, her tears mingling with the sweat on its hide. A beautiful animal, she thought, and I've killed it.

She remained beside the stag, as if keeping a vigil for its departed spirit. The sense of Presence brought her back to herself, and remorse mingled with fear as she knew Myrddhin approached.

Myrddhin came through the trees into sight, then stopped, aghast at the scene before him. The maid, her tear-stained face turned toward him as her hand lay on the blood-soaked neck of the great stag. His eyes blazed with anger, then with sadness as he came closer.

"Amanda," he rasped, "Did you do this?"

Tears flowed freely down her cheeks as she gazed at the stag. "Yes, Myrddhin, I killed it. I'm sorry. But I wanted some meat." Amanda averted her eyes, not wanting to see the censure in his.

Oddly, he smiled, and shook his head sadly. "The King Stag has been sacrificed, as from time immemorial. I can scarcely believe you brought him down." Myrddhin squatted beside her and lay a comforting hand on her shoulder. "His sacrifice will not be wasted. We must make use of everything he gave you."

Pulling out his own knife, Myrddhin began to skilfully skin the deer. He directed Amanda to build a travois of poles and thongs to carry the meat and hide back to their Sanctuary. As he worked, grimacing with distaste at the scent of the blood, Myrddhin explained about the Wild Hunt, and Samhain.

"In the fall, as the old year dies away, and the harvest has been gathered, it has been the custom for a young man of the clan to be the King Stag. He must run with a herd of deer and kill the king stag, a sacrifice to the earth goddess for her bounty, symbolizing death and rebirth. The old year dies, the earth grows cold and lifeless, then the miracle of rebirth, spring."

Myrddhin regarded Amanda with something like awe. "You are a truly remarkable woman, Amanda. The earth goddess has shown her approval with this sacrifice."

"I don't really know why I killed this magnificent animal," she whispered. "I only know that I will never do it again. The pain in my side is nothing to the pain in my heart."

Soon, the meat and hide were packed onto the travois which Myrddhin dragged. Amanda slung hide-wrapped portions on her back as they made their weary way back to Sanctuary.

On their return, Myrddhin showed Amanda how to preserve the meat by smoking, and how to flavour it with herbs. They carefully stowed the smoked meat where other animals could not get at it.

Chapter Four: The Druid's Story

In spite of her own misgivings, that night Amanda found the venison delicious and richly flavoured after the meagre diet she had been subsisting on. Though Myrddhin did not partake of the meat, he refrained from showing any disapproval of Amanda's enjoying it. She had cooked her portion over an outdoor spit and they consumed their evening meal sitting around its fire.

Night was falling and the forest sounds quietened. Sparks from the fire flew overhead to join the stars just winking into the darkening sky. With a full stomach and the glow of the mead, Amanda felt content.

Breaking into their long companionable silence, Amanda asked, "How long have you been here in this Sanctuary, Myrddhin?"

"A very long time, Amanda. Nearly two hundred years. I have left it now and then to see what transpires in the outside world, but I am always glad to return to my Sanctuary."

"Why do you choose the life of a hermit? With your knowledge and powers, you could do much good."

He laughed harshly. "No one wants my knowledge anymore. Men have tried to kill me because of it."

She was silent for a long while, and Myrddhin could see she had many questions on her mind. "When we first met, Myrddhin, you said you had many names. What other names have you owned?"

"I have been called Gwyddion, Taliesin, Gwyon, plus many other names over the past four hundred years. An Immortal needs to keep moving, and changing names, else our secret will be discovered. You, too, Amanda, must learn never to stay in one place too long, nor to make any attachments that might betray your immortality. Humans are jealous and fearful of those who are different. At times, it seems our gift is also our curse."

He gazed introspectively into the fire, while Amanda watched the play of light over his sharply etched features. She was imbued with a sense of awe, contemplating his great age. What would it be like to live so long, she wondered.

"Myrddhin, we are both Immortals, as you have said, but I am young, about eighteen years, and you are ...older. Why is that? You said I would not age. How is it that you have aged?"

He chuckled with delight at her probing questions. "I was already old when I met my first death. In over four hundred years, I have not aged much. We Immortals seem to age about one year for every hundred human years."

"How did you die? When was it?" Her curiosity, once unleashed, seemed boundless. Somehow, the intimacy of the fireside seemed to allow an exchange of confidences. He had never spoken much about his life, and Amanda had wondered many times how he came to this place, what his life had been before.

"It's a long story, my dear. It goes back to the time of the Saxon invasions. Britain had become prey to hostile raids almost as soon as the Romans left our shores. Picts, Scots, Saxons, all tried to gain a foothold on our island. As a youth, I was apprenticed to an old Druid. He was my master and he taught me well. I was sent to the court of Gorlois to be their priest, as they kept the old religion. As if the marauding armies were not enough, the new religion, Christianity, had taken hold in many parts of the kingdom. This religion would have no rivals and so the old and the new could not co-exist. The Romans tried to uproot the Druids but they only succeeded in driving us into secrecy. The old religion flourished until Christianity began to spread like a plague throughout Britain. "

Myrddhin paused to sip his mead, reflectively, then continued, "My position at the court of Gorlois and Ygraine was that of counsellor and priest. But my master had a vision that the High King, who would unite the tribes of Britain against the invaders, would be born in that castle. I was to become both tutor and mentor to the young king."

"When I arrived at their court, I was struck by the beauty of Ygraine, the queen. She had a young daughter, Morrighana, who was also destined to be a beauty. Ygraine's husband, Gorlois, was away at war. Uther, a rival king, saw Ygraine and wanted her for himself, and so by a stratagem, made her think he was Gorlois and spent a night in her embrace. She became pregnant with his child. Not long after this cruel ruse, Uther killed Gorlois and married Ygraine. He repudiated her unborn child as he thought it was Gorlois', as did she. "

"When the child was born, he was sent to be fostered at the court of Sir Ector. I went with Arthur, the child, to be his tutor. For eighteen years, I taught Arthur the many things a ruler needed to know. He was an apt pupil but his passion was warfare. He could hardly wait until he was old enough to go to war. Meanwhile, Morrighana grew into a beautiful young woman. Her mother wanted her to marry well, but she had pledged herself to the goddess, and nothing could change her mind. She was a passionate, willful maiden and many a prince came courting, but she rebuffed them all. More than anything, Morrighana wanted knowledge. She was sent to be schooled in the old ways at Avalon, a Druid sanctuary, and one of the last enclaves of the old religion."

Myrddhin lapsed into silence, and Amanda thought he had finished his story. But he stared into the dancing flames as if watching the panorama of those ancient times play out before him. He continued speaking almost to himself.

"Arthur married Guinevere, and Morrighana returned from Avalon to live at their court. Arthur loved his sister but Guinevere was jealous of her. You would have to see Morrighana to appreciate the effect she had on men. She was tiny, flaxen-haired and of such unearthly beauty, she took your breath away. A light seemed to glow around her. Even as a child, she had always had the ability to cast her spell on anyone to get her way. They called her Morrighana le Fey, and the name was apt. I too, was caught in her spell."

Amanda was surprised by this admission as Myrddhin had told her he had made a vow of celibacy to the goddess. She had not thought of him as a young and passionate man. It made him seem more human, somehow.

"Britain was embroiled in war, as usual. Arthur eventually became High King and attempted to unite the various kingdoms to fight the invaders who were gaining in strength and numbers. But he also had a weakness. He was totally besotted by Guinevere and gave in to her every whim. When she insisted that she would have none but Christians at her court, Arthur was forced to send Morrighana and me away. We returned to Avalon."

Myrddhin smiled at some remembrance, and Amanda wondered if he would share it.

"On Avalon, we spent many hours together, I tutoring Morrighana, and she arguing with me." He laughed fondly. "She was fey, but she was also a passionate woman. She kept the rituals but I think, Beltane was the night she lived for. She bore three children, and they all lived on Avalon, learning the old ways. Ah, those were the best days of my life. We were safe, or so we thought, and we just lived for the day. Many nobles still sent their children to be tutored on Avalon so I felt the old ways could not completely die out. How wrong I was."

"Arthur was killed in battle, and the sword I gave him, Excalibur, found its way back to Avalon. Guinevere, freed from his restraint, and completely under the sway of the Christian priests, undertook to eradicate the old religion completely from her kingdom. Avalon had been granted forever to us as our sanctuary, and we kept to it, not trying to compete with the new religion. But to the priests, we were a festering sore to be excised."

Amanda saw that Myrddhin was trembling slightly with strong emotion. She moved to put her arm around his shoulder and he smiled at her gratefully.

"I have never told anyone this part of the story, Amanda. I find it too hard even to think of it."

"Myrddhin, you don't need to finish this now. Perhaps, another time."

"No, I must finish. Bear with me while I find the words." He sighed deeply, then continued. "The priests told Guinevere it was her holy duty to destroy the pagan enclave. She sent her army to Avalon."

"The island was easily reached by any who wished to come there. It was not defended or fortified. That day, I had a vision of impending doom and saw the army in the distance, approaching. I tried to get as many away as I could. But Morrighana would not go. She would not leave her beloved Avalon of which she had become the High Priestess. With Guinevere's army at our gates, I knocked Morrighana unconscious and put her into a curragh with some food and water. I sent it adrift on the tide as the first screams reached me from the village. It floated out of sight and I returned to my people. They fought as well as they could but we were massacred without mercy. I was killed by several soldiers with lances and swords."

"I revived to such a scene that I wished that I had remained with the dead in the Otherworld. Not a single living soul remained on Avalon. All were dead, even Morrighana's children. Our oaks were hewn down and burning, and my library destroyed. All that knowledge, collected from Egypt, Greece, Rome, all burnt. I was mad with grief, I scarcely remember what I did or where I went."

"I tried to find Morrighana, but there was no trace of her. I became the scourge of those priests after that. I burned their churches, killed their priests but all to no avail. No matter how much I destroyed, it was rebuilt, more priests came. Eventually, I came here."

"I built this new enclave and sanctified the grounds around. It is far off the beaten track, so very few travellers have ever found their way here. I was content with the my self-imposed exile until the day I happened upon your duel with the Spaniard. I believe it was our destiny to meet, Amanda, and for you to become my apprentice. You have become as precious to me as my own beloved Morrighana. But you have something which she did not, and that sets you apart."

Amanda flushed under this unaccustomed praise, and asked, "What is that?"

"Immortality. While Morrighana may have surpassed me in knowledge and power, she was mortal. And is now in the Otherworld where I hope to meet her again. You have time to grow in your knowledge, and to learn wisdom, which she did not."

Myrddhin fell silent, and Amanda realized his tale had ended. She had so many more questions but for now was content to gaze into the fire, seated companionably next to her mentor.

Chapter Five: The Magical Sword

The next morning, Myrddhin began to show Amanda the survival skills he felt she would need someday. He instructed her on the setting of snares for small game, and how to clean and prepare their meats for food. Together they fished for trout in the clear stream, Myrddhin enjoying her excitement as she landed her catch.

With his help, Amanda fashioned a stout bow. He showed her how to fletch arrows, and made her an ornate quiver to carry them. She spent many hours practising at targets and soon was a deadly shot, able to bring down a pheasant in flight. These skills gave her an independence she needed and she kept herself supplied with meat throughout the year.

Her linen gown became worn with rough use and Amanda realized it would soon be unfit to wear. She stowed the gown in a basket lined with cedar, and made herself a jerkin and breeches like Myrddhin's.

At first, he was scandalized by her masculine attire, but at length had to agree with its practicality. A gown interfered with her freedom of movement.

From her collection of hides and skins, she fashioned warm sturdy clothing, keeping the rough- spun shift Myrddhin had given her, to wear underneath. He also gave Amanda a bolt of linen to sew other necessities for her own meagre wardrobe.

One fall afternoon, Amanda was enjoying the unusual warmth of the autumn sun while fletching some arrows, when a thought occurred to her. She glanced from her position, where, seated on the ground, she could view Myrddhin grinding some concoction in a mortar-and-pestle at the table inside his hut.

"Myrddhin," she called to him, "When you told me those stories of Arthur and his Knights of the Round Table, you mentioned a sword called 'Excalibur'. You said it was on Avalon, but then Avalon was destroyed. What happened to Excalibur? Was it destroyed too?"

The old man looked up, somewhat disturbed at the question, indecision written on his aged features. Finally, he said, "No. Excalibur cannot be destroyed unless it consumes itself with fire."

"Where is Excalibur, then?" Amanda persisted.

"Here, in this Sanctuary, with me." He returned to his work as if that ended the matter.

But Amanda was not satisfied. Her curiosity was piqued and so she rose and leaned by the door of his hut, staring in as Myrddhin studied an old manuscript, added some coloured earth and then resumed grinding the materials.

"May I see it?" she asked, trying to keep her voice level.

"It is well hidden, where it has been for over four hundred years. Leave it be, Amanda," he growled.

"Please, Myrddhin, just a look at this magical sword?" she pleaded.

As he looked into her determined face, he could see there was no denying her. She would persist until she had her way! Like Morrighana, he thought wryly. He could never refuse Morrighana, and she knew it.

With a heavy sigh, and an ill grace, he set down his tools and came outside. "I will fetch it. Wait here."

"You don't trust me, Myrddhin?" Amanda asked, with a hurt expression.

His tone softened as he touched her shoulder fondly. "Of course I do. Follow me, then. I will show you where it is."

She followed Myrddhin behind his hut and a short distance into the woods. Stopping before an ancient oak, he mumbled a phrase in Gaelic, then pulled one of the lower branches. A narrow door swung open from the tree trunk, and in a hollowed space stood a long package wrapped in oiled canvas.

Myrddhin reached into the dark cavity and reverently brought the package into the light. He unwrapped it carefully to reveal an ornate and shiny longsword. No rust marred the steel blade. Nor was there a scratch or nick on its edge. It was as perfect as if it had just been made.

Intuitively, Amanda reached out for the sword, but Myrddhin held it back, his intense blue gaze seeming to probe her mind, her intentions.

For an unnerving few moments, the two Immortals tested their trust of each other, until Amanda suddenly laughed and broke the tension.

"Do you think I'll try to kill you with this?" she asked. "Or are you afraid you'll be tempted by my head?" she jested, never lowering her gaze from his.

With great deliberation, Myrddhin held the sword out to her and she carefully took it in both hands. It was a work of art, she could see. The two-edged blade was of fine tempered steel, while the hilt was adorned with symbols and Celtic designs, and worked in gold and silver. Fastened into the pommel was a huge red gemstone.

Seeing Amanda examining the stone, Myrddhin remarked, "The sword is Excalibur but the gemstone is called 'The Rose'. It's history is far older and more mysterious than the sword's. Excalibur was made by the world's greatest sword maker in far-off Arabia, working under the direction of my master. It was he who ordered the Rose to be affixed to the pommel. Male sword and female gemstone--for balance and harmony. The combination makes the master of the sword invincible."

With an expression of awe, Amanda fitted her hands to the hilt and found the cold metal seemed to warm and flow, moulding to her grip. Myrddhin's face was unreadable as he watched her lift the sword to swing it and test its power. She moved further into the clearing, away from him, and tried some parries and thrusts against an invisible enemy.

Wielding the sword seemed as natural as breathing and her body and muscles seemed to have a memory of their own. Suddenly, she whirled the sword in a wide arc at shoulder level. She gasped and nearly dropped Excalibur as an expression of revulsion crossed her face.

"So this is how it's done," she whispered. "How I have done it to others." She felt repelled by the weapon suddenly, for all its deadly beauty. Handing it back to her mentor, she said dully, "Put it away, Myrddhin."

Wrapping the sword again in its protective cover, Myrddhin watched apprehensively as Amanda walked back to her hut. She had rejected the sword as she rejected her past, he thought.

"Someday, you will have to reclaim them," he said aloud, but Amanda was too far away to hear. "Someday, but perhaps, not yet," he muttered to himself. He replaced Excalibur in its hiding place and closed the secret door.

Continued in Part Three