The Spellery issue 2 vol 10 dec 2016

The Spellery Issue 2 V ol 10 Dec. 2016

Merry Yule

Being E clectic Is Wonderf ul , But Bringing Witches Together Is Magickal

The WInter Solstice "Yule" Amythyst Raine Hatayama

The Magical Healing Spirit of Yule Lady Stars & Fire

Bells

From The Natanleods

Lady Thriceborn

A Yule Tale Novelette Sunbow Pendragon

Yes, Virginia Ceane O'Hanlon-Lincoln

Meet The Discreet Witch Holiday Beers Dating Back To Antiquity The Benefits of Personal Sacred Ritual A Fairy So Merry Death Shall Have No Dominion

The Art of Steve Hutton

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Page 5 Easy Whie Chocolate Mousse

By The Spellery Page 6 Holiday Beers Dating Back to Antiquity Page 6 A Fairy So Merry

By Hesperides Garden Page 9 Meet Facebook Group The Discreet Witch Page 10 The Re-claiming of Persephone

By Jade-Sword Page 12 The Winter Solstic "Yule"

By Amythyst Raine Hatayama Page 15 The Spellery Puzzle Page Page 16 Bells

By Lady Thriceborn Page 18 The Incredible Art of Steve Hutton Page 22 1800's Yule Hot Cocoa

By Flour Power Bakery Page 23 Finding Home A Poem

By Calla Lofgren

Page 24 Yes, Virginia!

By Ceane O’Hanlon-Lincoln Page 27 Did You Know?

A Bit about chestnuts Page 28 The Benefits of Personal Sacred Ritual

By Evan Purcell Page 32 The Healing Spirit of Yule

By Lady Stars & Fire Page 36 Death Shall Have No Dominion A Short Story

By Allina Balestri Page 38 From The Natanleods A Yule Tale Novelette

By Sunbow Pendragon Page 52 Make New Facebook Friends

By The Spellery

The Spellery wants to take this moment and wish you all a very Happy Yule. This year has brought highs and lows for us all and with appreciation to our followers we chose to give this issue away for free as a thank you.

We have built amazing friendships along our way and continue to interact with wonderful people everyday. We are truly blessed to be working with so many talented and amazing individuals.

The Spellery is a magazine for all of you and written by all of us to share amazing articles, journeys and information to one another. It is your vehicle to interact with each other and as another year comes to a close and a new one begins I hope we keep sharing and learning from one another.

I thank you and Merry Yule to all of you, may you make many wonderful cherished memories

Yule Gifts from

Merry Yule t-shirt 100% Cotton Imported Machine wash cold with like colors, dry low heat Lightweight, Classic fit, Double-needle sleeve and bottom hem

Yule Log Glass Blown Ornament Burning a Yule Log is a tradition celebrated in many countries around Christmastime. Since fire serves as a source of warmth and light during the cold darkness of winter, a special large log is burned to symbolize rebirth in the new year.

Merry Krampmas T-shirt 100% Cotton Imported available in mens and women's Machine wash cold with like colors, dry low heat The legend of Santa's antithesis looms very large in european countries such as Germany, Austria, Czech Republic and Croatia. He is truly the Christmas Devil!

Straw Goat Ornaments Straw Goat Ornaments 6pack - 2 1/2" - Julbock Scandinavian Straw has been the point of celebration for hundreds of years. A tradition in Scandinavia for centuries, the Julbock or "Yule Goat� was the bringer of gifts to the household. Having a Julbock in your home is a symbol of "Jul� and a time of good cheer. A must have for celebrating the holiday season.

Father Yule Ornament 100% high quality porcelain This lightweight hanging ornament is made of high quality porcelain and measures 2.875" in diameter.

This ornament comes with its own red ribbon so it is ready to hang!

Easy Holiday White Chocolate Mousse A delicious and easy holiday dessert to serve during the season. Sprinkle with chocolate shavings or fresh reaspberries to satisfy any palate!

6 oz white chocolate 3 fl oz milk 2 egg whites Âź teaspoon lemon juice 8 fl oz heavy cream

Instructions Melt the chocolate, stir into the milk a little at a time, when all is combined set aside to slighlty cool.

Whip the egg whites and lemon juice until stiff peaks form, then fold into the chocolate mixture until well combined.

Whip The heavy cream until it forms soft peaks form.

Gently fold into the white chocolate mixture.

Divide into 4 dessert glasses and chill for at least 2 hours.

Sprinkle with grated chocolate and sliced Raspberries to serve.

Holiday Beers Dating Back to Antiquity With the craft beer market growing an astounding 20 percent each year, brewers are looking for more ways to stand out from the crowd. While the recent crop of “Holiday” beer popping up in the aisle might elicit eye rolls, the category has grown a whopping 200 percent over the last four years.

Maybe the reason for holiday beer’s recent surge in popularity is a deep-seated love for the first holiday brews enjoyed by our ancient ancestors. What exactly makes a holiday beer? Generally, it’s a higher-alcohol beer made for the late autumn and winter months that often has notes of seasonal spices, herbs, chocolate or fruit.

Dating as far back as 650 AD, before hops were used as a preservative, Viking brewers often resorted to mixes of herbs, spices, seeds, peppers, and even tree bark to help stabilize their brews. These proto-beers were strong, malty and most often enjoyed during the Viking holiday of Jul or Yule.

The other piece of the puzzle comes from a tradition started in fifth-century Britain during festival season when bowls of ale were passed around the tables for people to drink. Centuries later, slices of Yule cake were placed in the bottom of the bowls and the ale poured over it, flavoring it with seasonal spices.

On this side of the Atlantic, holiday beers were widespread by the early 20th century, with Stella Artois being introduced in 1926 as a Christmas beer (ergo, Artois or “star”) and beers creating packaging that reflected the season, such as Miller Brewing Co.’s 1930s “Christmas Special Beer,” replete with a Norman Rockwell-esque painting of a family surrounding a fire.

The 1980s saw a rise of brewers incorporating “warming” spices into beers, and more recently, brewers have looked to richer, heavier beer styles -; stouts and porters — that are packed with flavors that evoke thoughts of sitting inside by a warm fire.

This brings us to today’s holiday beers. While heavier beers still rule the season, one new offering in the lineup is the Traveler Beer Company’s Jolly Traveler Winter Shandy. Like holiday beers, shandys originated in Europe, where brewers mixed ale with citrus for low-alcohol refreshment. Although traditionally seen as a warmweather beverage, Jolly uses seasonal spices and fruit, including orange and pomegranate, to create a new kind of holiday beer that’s both warming and seasonable.

So whether it’s a winter warmer or holiday shandy, go on and enjoy a beer with your

A Fairy so Merry

By Hesperides Garden hesperidesdracongarden@gmail.com There once was a fairy Who was so merry She hung the Holly complete with bayberry.

The evergreen tree She decorated with glee For all the world to see.

Inviting in Her fairy folk and kin Who find warmth within.

Snow goose, owl, and Reindeer Are festive with cheer Come to greet the new year Eagle, boar, and bear This is a time to share Even the little squirrel helps us to prepare All are welcome Joining with a merry hum To share their joy and wisdom For this little fairy There’s nothing so extraordinary As a magickal Yule Night so merry The gifts she is giving Each with a story worth spinning Which keeps the memories living.

With resins and mistletoe the omens may show where your path will go.

In the midnight hour With blessed thistle flower She waits for the sun's returning power Join this fairy Festive and merry As the wild winter cherry.

How do you celebrate this Season?

I was reminded of my little 'speech' last year at our family gathering for Xmas by none other than my born-again Christian Aunt.

She found what I said in giving thanks for bread and family 'uplifting'.

Basically what I said was 'thankyou to Deity for family, and sustenance, at this time, and always'. There was other stuff as well, but that was the gist of it. I don't find it necessary to ram my beliefs down others' throats, we don't like it when they do, so the reverse should also apply.

There are always options!

My family and my hubby's family are all aware of my beliefs (witch/ pagan), and believe it or not, I've managed to NOT offend most!

Be gentle with others, be kind, this, and love, are the basis of all religions.

In Joy and Love ~ Jade-Sword Find us on Facebook Jade-Sword - a place of Joy and Love https://www.facebook.com/ jojadesword

*mention The Spellery when requesting a Reading or Name Certificate and for the month of November you will receive a 20% discount

Meet The Discreet Witch I was exposed to the Craft early on my mother was (for lack of a better word) pagan. Mostly she was a hippie.

As a single mother of one, it made sense for her to bring me along to ceremonies and whatnot. We also attended church with her very Christian family on major holidays. Vacation bible school was a bit of an adventure, but it never seemed strange to attend both Christian and pagan churches.

As an adult, the Craft plays a small but meaningful role in my daily life. I give thanks, I light incense, I meditate over a nice cup of tea. But when I cook, or garden or even clean my house, all of the knowledge I've accumulated over (mumblemumble) years of practice comes to play. Everything with intent.

My Facebook page is The Discreet Witch. It started as a fun pastime with some friends. Pagans needed a Martha Stewart as well so I started a blog as well and used the Facebook platform to get the word out. Then life got busy and I stopped updating the blog. I have loads of material to publish there, but it's difficult to sit still and just do it. I promise I'll get back to it soon. The Facebook page is much more gratifying. It's up to 30,000 viewers and it's been fascinating to watch it grow.

The most challenging thing about administrating my Facebook page has been the cries for help. I never expected that. Most are simple questions like "I'm trying to get a new job, what herbs are best for prosperity spellwork?" (Basil is a good one) Some spammy questions on sex (I usually apologize and say I can't help). The hardest are the women who have very real problems. In their cases I don't give witchy advice. I try and give common sense advice with a sprinkle of sympathy and generally I end up researching local family advocates or abuse centers for them.

I've been really lucky with my page followers. I have a handful that I chat with regularly, and we share posts back and forth. Remarkably little trolling has gone on at The Discreet Witch. (knock on wood!)

When not working on my Facebook page, I am mostly just an average working mom. I feed my kids, go to work, run errands, pay bills and very, very discreetly, I practice my Craft. I am not out of the broom closet, in spite of the fact that most of my friends follow my page.

For the young witches who follow my page I have this advice - read read read! Gather all of the information you can, and then let your own intuition and common sense guide you. It has never been my experience that a spell alone will get a witch what they seek. But spellwork plus legwork usually gets results.

The Discreet Witch can be found at www.facebook.com/ TheDiscreetWitch/ and thediscreetwitch. blogspot.com/ Brightest Blessings to the readers of The Spellery!

Love Magic Over 250 Spells and Potions for Getting it, Keeping it, and Making it Last

by Lilith Dorsey

Published by Red Wheel Weiser

This is really “the big little book of love magic.� Magical maven Lilith Dorsey has packed into this fun, informative, and practical book over 250 spells, potions, rituals, and recipes devoted to all facets of love and sex.

Based on years of magical experience and prodigious research, this book includes sections on such topics as self-love, marriage, fertility, erotic adventures, the ethics of love magic, and more. The spells are drawn from a wide diversity of magical traditions and focus on an equally diverse situations. There are spells for finding love, keeping love, and healing yourself so that you are ready for love. The book also includes rituals for invoking goddesses of love. Dorsey considers and discusses all facets of the romantic experience.

Let's face it we are obsessed, inspired, delighted, and in love with love. And here is the go-to book for every spell you will ever need for finding and keeping romance, passion, sex, marriage, fertility, and love in your life. Rooted in serious scholarship while still exploring the weird, wild, and wonderful side of love magic, this book provides expert advice and genuine spells that work to bring you your heart's desire.

Lilith Dorsey M.A. , hails from many different magickal traditions, including Celtic, Afro-Caribbean, and Native American spirituality. Her traditional education focused on Plant Science, Anthropology, and Film at the University of R.I., New York University and the University of London, and her magickal training includes numerous iniations in Santeria, Vodoun, and New Orleans Voodoo .

Lilith Dorsey has been doing successful magick since 1991 for patrons of her business Branwen's Pantry, and is editor/publisher of Oshun-African Magickal Quarterly , filmmaker of the experimental documentary Bodies of Water :Voodoo Identity and Tranceformation,choreographer for jazz legend Dr. John's "Night Tripper" Voodoo Show, and author of Voodoo and Afro-Caribbean Paganism and the newly released Love Magic. Her work has been featured in the New York Times and the Village Voice.

The Winter Solstice Yule

By Amythyst Raine Hatayama

The Goddess, pregnant with life experiences, gives birth to her future, continuing life’s unending cycle, renewing the universe with new dreams and infinite possibilities. As the light returns to the earth on the Winter Solstice in a glorious burst from the sun, so our light shines through the Goddess, illuminating our way, igniting our path with energy, ambition, and a renewed sense of purpose.

Winter Solstice...the longest day of darkness in the year; and with the darkness comes the promise of light, the rebirth of the Sun. It's no wonder, because of the importance of this date to the ancient pagans and the symbolism involved, that the Roman church chose this date to celebrate the birth of Christ.

This is a celebration of sunshine. It's celebrating the end of of darkness and cold; it's celebrating a return to the earth and warmth, a return to gardening, a return of the flowers, a return of warm sunny days, green grass, ice cream, and lazy afternoons fishing at the lake. It might be a ways off yet, but it's coming, really it is, and the Winter Solstice will keep it's promise!

Hallelujah, the Sun has returned!

My Celebration: When the kids were younger, not all that long ago in fact, I use to start shopping for Yule in August.

Yes, I really did. I also carried a notebook in my purse with everyone's name so that I could keep track of everything I was buying for each child. Of course, I firmly believed that everyone must have the same amount of gifts to open; I was adamant about that. And I was so organized, in fact, that I kept this notebook with me all through the gift wrapping process to check off which presents were completed.

I wore myself out. I wore my bank account out; and I discovered that I actually wore my kids out with this process as well. One day, my youngest daughter said to me, "Mom, it's so stressful. I just get my room the way I want it, then we get all this stuff, and it's all cluttered again, and I have to find somewhere to put it all." That was an eye-opening moment.

I have shifted my concentration to preparing a good meal for the family. I've shifted my concentration to creating an atmosphere of congeniality, fun, and camaraderie. I've taken the commercial burden off myself and my children, and in doing so, we can all relax and come away with the most important holiday gift of all Happy Memories.

Yule Correspondences Herbs: frankincense, myrrh, sage, bayberry, rosemary Altar Flowers/Herbs: holly, mistletoe, pine cones, evergreen, thistle, cedar Feast Foods: fruitcake, gingerbread, cranberries, dried fruit, eggnog, cider/wine Animals: white buffalo, stag, weasels, owls, squirrels, blue jays, cardinals, doves Incense: bayberry, cedar, frankincense, myrrh, orange, sage, rosemary Rituals/Spells: hearth and home magick, lighting the Yule log, hopes and dreams spells, wishes.

Yule Recipes Gingerbread 2 1/2 cups flour 1 cup molasses 1/2 cup sugar 1/2 cup shortening 1 egg 1 1/2 tsp. baking soda 1 teaspoon cinnamon 1 teaspoon ginger 3/4 teaspoon salt 1/2 tsp. ground cloves 1 cup boiling water

In a large bowl, measure all the ingredients. With a mixer at low speed, beat until well mixed, constantly scraping the bowl with a rubber spatula. Beat at medium speed 3 minutes. Pour the batter into a pan and bake 55-60 minutes at 350 degrees.

We'll look at some of the ingredients now from a magickal perspective: Cinnamon: Spirituality, success, healing, power, psychic powers, lust, protection, love.

Ginger: Love, money, success, power Salt: Purification, protection, grounding, money Cloves: Protection, exorcism, love, money Sugar: Love, lust.

Cranberry/Orange Sauce 2 (8-ounce) packages cranberries, fresh or frozen 1 orange, cut into strips and juiced 1/2 cup sugar 1 cinnamon stick Put all the ingredients into a saucepan over medium heat and simmer until the cranberries burst and the sauce thickens, about 15 to 20 minutes. Serve at room temperature or cool and refrigerate.

Remove the cinnamon stick before serving.

Follow Amythyst's Blog at http://tarotreadingswithamythystraine. blogspot.com/

Theban Crypto-Quote What Does The Puzzle Say? December 2016

Theban Key

Bells

By Lady Mabigonia Thriceborn One of the most common tools used in Yuletide rituals is the Bell. Bells are a tool which have transcended religions - their clear sound carries, especially in the crisp, cold air. Made from metal, glass and porcelain, bells are created from a hollow cup form with a clapper, uvula, hammer or mallet which is used creates the signature sound. Most ritual bells are small enough to fit in a hand and uses a small sphere to strike the sides of the bell. They are known as symbols of peace and togetherness, freedom and divine entrance.

Human beings have used bells for at least seven thousand years, and as far as we know they were first used in Eastern Asia. Originally made of pottery, the metal bell arrived around 2000 BC in Western Asia becoming very popular with the rise of the Shang Dynasty who utilized them for everything from cultural ceremonies to accents in clothing and barding.

Before then they had most commonly been used in ritual and temple workings as well as for music.

Bells are rung to announce the beginning and ending of ritual work, it clears the air of darker spirits and disperses energies following the workings. Though evil spirits flee from it, spirits of light are drawn to it meaning they may be used to call the Keepers and the Gods, the Guardians and the Watchers. In some Western Cultures Bells are used to see the dead off.

Bells create fertile magickal ground, opening a space for invocations and to open gates between the worlds. Because of this association with fertility bells are considered to hold a feminine energy and thus should

be placed upon the left of an altar. They can stand for the element of water in the western circle.

Like all other tools used in your workings, the bell should be consecrated, cared for and recharged like all the others.

Consecrating a Bell

Time: Full Moon in the Hour of the Sun or at Dawn You Will Need: Salt Water Incense: Lotus, Sandalwood or Lavender White Candle Instructions Call your circle Beginning in the east ring the bell and pass it through the incense smoke three times.

"In the name of the four winds - I bless thee Consecrate thee and ask that you ring true."

Now move to the south and ring the bell, passing it over the top of the candle flame three times.

"In the name of fire - I bless thee Be ye made pure - in tone and will."

Now the west - ringing again. Sprinkle it with the water three times.

"In the name of water - I bless thee May your tone made pure echo over land and sea."

And now the north, sprinkling it with salt three times.

"In the name of the Mother and Father - I bless thee May your song fill the dark places of the earth."

Now move to the center giving it three good, strong rings.

"As above, so below May your song never die.

You are blessed and made pure Consecrated in the name of All." Close the circle when ready.

The Incredible Art of

Steve Hutton

Tell us a bit about you?

I'm Steve Hutton and I live in North Yorkshire, England, where I work as a professional illustrator, although right now I don't do as much illustrating as I'd like because I've just moved to a new house and it's a Pandora's box of DIY problems . . . so it's going to take a long time to put right!

When Did you know you could draw?

I've always enjoyed drawing. From being very young I could lose myself in a drawing, making up a world of my own as I went along. Nothing excited me more than a blank piece of paper and a pencil, which might sound rather sad to our modern, computer-obsessed generation, but for me, those were better days. It never occurred to me that drawing came more easily to me than others, I just drew – that was all. One day my mum picked me up from school (I think I was five or six) and the teacher called her into the class to show her one of my drawings.

We'd been asked to draw our house. The rest of the kids drew a box with a pointy roof and windows, a typical house you might say, while I'd drawn our house in cross section and added all the interior rooms and staircases. I thought nothing of this, but I suppose that was the first time I can recall that anyone outside the family said 'this kid can draw!'.

Your artwork is lovely, Did you study professionally or was this something your learned on your own?

Firstly, thanks! I'm pleased to know that you like my artwork. I studied graphic design and illustration at BA level, then after a few years working for myself I went back to university and did a MA in the same, although as with any qualification the true value is what you learn along the way, not the certificate at the end.

Were there any artists that inspired you? What is your inspiration?

As a boy growing up in the 1970's I loved a TV programme called Doctor Who (it was pretty unknown in America). It was full of monsters and science-fiction, and plenty of wobbly effects. I collected all the novelisations too, partly for the story but mostly for the book covers (which isn't as shallow as it sounds). That was perhaps the first time I thought: 'I'd love to draw books for a job'. So I owe a lot to the stable of illustrators who brought the Doctor Who books alive.

As I've got older. other factors have influenced my work. I took an interest in Green politics, which finds a strong echo in my art, but which also drove me to write a series of fantasy novels. The result is The Dark Raven Chronicles, where the story blends magic with politics and where the witches are the heroes and most definitely champions for the Earth. Much of my artwork shows scenes and characters from the series.

Do you have a particular favorite piece? One you feel describes you and your art the most?

Why? This piece is called 'Reflection', and the character is from one of my Dark Raven novels, and he's called Bru. Therionthropic characters have always fascinated me (that is to say human/ animal hybrids), they crop up in folklore from the earliest times, but in art I always found the depictions a little lacking – being just an animal head on a human frame. I wanted to create something seamless and something with heart. Bru looks reflective and a little sombre (and there's a reason for this in the book) and he's sitting in his study surrounded by a host of magical things, the primary reason being he's a witch, but also because these possession tell us a lot about him. The cats are my own, or were, sadly they've all passed on now. I also wanted to showcase just how creative colour pencil can be (which is my primary medium) so I emulated a classical pose, and even adopted Vermeer-style lighting, to challenge the idea that pencil art and fantasy subject matter are somehow lesser than other forms of art and literature. If I died tomorrow, I'd still want Bru to be my last testament.

Do you have a special space that you create your art in?

I've moved house a lot these last ten years and the first thing I do in a new house is set up my work room. If I'm lucky it's a separate room, and if not I'll work in the corner of the bedroom.

The rest of the house might be in chaos, but my work room has to be a calm retreat. I need my stereo, as I usually work with music on (rock and metal if anyone's interested) and on the walls go old photos of places I've been, as well as maps and postcards, again from places I know. Camping's always been a great love of mine, and wandering the wilds is often where I find my inspiration. I have a large, and now quite tatty, map of Iceland taking up one whole wall, and a shred of musk-ox wool pinned to it that I found in Greenland. My work room isn't busy, but everything in there has a sentimental value.

What do you want the readers take away from your work?

When I draw a new illustration, I'm firstly hoping to craft an image that'll catch someone's attention, and once they start to explore the picture I hope they'll start making up their own narrative; asking 'who is that character?' and 'what are they thinking or doing?' One of the illustrations I've included embodies this principle, and it's called 'By The Shore'. I love it when people start to make up their own stories based on one of my images. As for my writing, my goal is to write believable characters that people want to take a journey with. If readers care about your characters then any peril they face becomes 'real' and in turn the writing becomes real too.

If you could go back five years, what advice would you give yourself?

I take it that winning Lottery numbers aren't allowed? In that case, if I could go back I would have certainly NOT moved to this house! But in terms of art and writing, working things out for yourself, making mistakes and learning from them is all part of life's journey , even if sometimes you feel you're going backwards. There's been a lot of frustration bringing my art to a wider audience, but I wonder if making the path smoother with magical hindsight might have just robbed me of some of those lessons . . . so I'm glad the road had been bumpy enough to round me off.

What advice would you give a beginner artist?

Be clear about what you love most – is it landscape, flowers, portraits, animals, architecture? Painting a picture of a sports car would bore me to death, and so I wouldn't make a good job of it, but ask me to draw a fairy and suddenly the task is a pleasure and the results brim with joy. That makes a critical difference. Try other media and subjects just to broaden your experience (as a hobby I paint landscapes in oils – I'm not saying they're great, but I love it) but accept that it's natural to be stronger in one field than another and don't expect perfection all round. If a piece isn't working or you hit a tricky part, put the work aside and come back later (hours or days) and suddenly you get a fresh insight and you can see why it's not working.

This revelation lasts only a few seconds before your preconceptions mask it again (well, for me it does) but it's enough to set you on the correct path. Oh – and have plenty of tea to drink!

Do you offer your prints for sale?

People keep asking about prints, and one day I mean to make a concerted effort to get a series done, I promise! But for now, I get the occasional request for a print and I get them done individually. Meanwhile,

I sell a lot of my original work to collectors through Art of the Imagination, who also produce fine limited edition collector's books. I illustrated 'Peter Pan' for them last year. Some of my works include but are not limited to 'First Flight' An iconic scene from Peter Pan, which I illustrated for Art of the Imagination last year.

'Kolfinnia' The cover to the first novel of The Dark Raven Chronicles.

And much more.

You can follow Mr. Hutton on Facebook two ways at Dark Raven Chronicles which deals with his books https://www.facebook.com/darkravenchronicles/ Or Wild Wood Witches which showcases his newest art, usually before it goes on the website. https://www.facebook.com/Wild-Wood-Witches-228303630545400/ His website is www.wildwoodwitches.co.uk where you'll find almost all of his current pictures, and a background to the Dark Raven Chronicle novels.

1800's Yule Hot Cocoa By Flour Power Bakery

There is nothing I like more than to kick my feet up during the holidays , look at my fire blazing and enjoying a from scratch cup of homemade cocoa. Here is one of my favorite recipes. I hope you enjoy it as much as I do. This recipe has been modified from an early 1800's recipe.

Ingredients Needed: 3 Cups of milk 2 Tablespoons of Light Brown Sugar 4 oz of Semi Sweet chocolate 4oz of Bittersweet chocolate Fresh whipped cream for garnished topping Directions In a saucepan place your milk and sugar. Stir on med heat until milk steams and the sugar is disolved. Whisk in the two chocolates and completely blend until chocolate is dissolved. Serve topped with fresh whipped cream.

Finding Home a Poem by Calla Lofgren Do not put me into words you were once taught, For I am the languages you do not understand.

I am the darkness in the forest, Where each adventurer becomes lost In my tangled branches and winding streams.

Do not give words to my sunrise, For no syllables can capture it’s wonder.

I am the song of the birds, The flowers in bloom, The ancient trees that tower above all.

My soul knows stories long forgotten That still dwell in the hearts of few.

My veins run with the rivers and the streams, Twisting and curving between the trees And beating with the blood of the Earth.

My mind is the knotted bramble Of vines and branches reaching For the last warmth of the sun.

Where life is greeted at every turn, In flushes of color Unknown to man.

I dwell in the lands That created stories Lost to the imagination.

My sky is rippled with galaxies Holding the minds Of those who share in my mystery.

My legacy is not one of words, But one of starlight and sunrise, Of each swirling constellation Or ever-blooming flower.

What others call madness, Is my creation, Unbridled and infinite, Limitless and free to those to follow my steps.

And within my madness, I found a place To call home.

Yes, Virginia

By Ceane O'Hanlon-Lincoln There is something to be said for being inside, snug and warm, on a cold winter’s day.

I love sitting at a window, reading or writing, to watch the snow. First, a few tranquil flakes drift down, then they come in greater number, steady and faster. The yard turns to glistening white, and the trees, in the crisp puffs of air, begin to shed feathers of snow from their branches.

Winter landscapes possess a purity we don’t see any other season. As November begins to blur, the December sun burns with a white passion on the diamond-bright snow, making it glitter and sparkle. Snow blankets sound, and it is quieter.

Inside, there is a curious luminous feeling in each room. I love our home for many reasons, but especially for its stained-glass windows. Living at Tara (the name I christened our home) is rather like living inside a jewel box, and each season, the incoming light casts a totally different luminosity throughout this big old house.

I have several friends who go away each winter to Florida and Arizona. That is not for me. I have a keen reverence for and kinship with Mother Nature, thus I love and welcome her turning wheel of season changes for the magick that each spell possesses.

Now along my street I see the occasional Christmas tree go by atop a car, or sticking out a trunk. In the old days, Christmas trees were transported in wagons pulled by big farm horses. Nowadays they travel faster but far less romantically.

My Christmas tree memories are some of my favorite Yuletide remembrances. Dad and I chose the tree together the last Christmas Mother was with us. We wanted a live tree that we could plant after the holiday, as a souvenir, for we sensed it would be our last together. I even named that tree– Kriss Kringle.

Almost everyone embraces a love of tradition this time o’ year. I own movies that I enjoy watching every Christmastide. It’s a Wonderful Life, starring the illustrious Jimmy Stewart; a TV movie entitled Silent Night, Lonely Night with America’s Sweetheart and cherished friend Shirley Jones; Bell, Book, and Candle, a Jimmy Stewart comedy;

and yet another magickal story, Hallmark’s The Good Witch’s Gift; then, of course, there’s the nostalgic Christmas Story.

My hubby and I always take in all the life-affirming Christmas movies that run nightly on the Hallmark Channel during the entire month of December. But there is an additional Christmas story I watch annually, and that is the 1991 film Yes, Virginia, There Is a Santa Claus with Richard Thomas. What could be more magickal than Santa Claus?

Educator and writer, Laura Virginia O’Hanlon was born in 1889 in New York City.

At the age of eight, O’Hanlon became part of that bright tapestry we call “Americana” as the little girl who questioned the existence of Santa Claus.

Facing the grim possibility that Santa did not exist and unable to get a satisfactory answer from her parents, she was advised by her father to pen a letter to The New York Sun newspaper in search of the truth.

The letter read: “Dear Editor, I am 8 years old. Some of my little friends say there is no Santa Claus. Papa says, ‘If you see it in The Sun, it’s so.’ Please tell me the truth, is there a Santa Claus?”

The newspaper published her letter, as well as its reply to her query on September 21, 1897. Because the paper had a policy of keeping its editorials anonymous, Francis P. Church was not identified as the author until after his death in 1906.

A former Civil War correspondent who had felt and faced the horrors of war, Church specialized in religious and controversial issues at The Sun. He told Miss O’Hanlon straight up, “Yes, Virginia, there is a Santa Claus. He exists as certainly as love and generosity and devotion exist, and you know that they abound and give to your life its highest beauty and joy.

“Alas, how dreary would be the world if there were no Santa Claus. It would be as dreary as if there were no Virginias.

“There would be no childlike faith then, no poetry, no romance to make tolerable this existence. We should have no enjoyment, except in sense and sight. The eternal light with which childhood fills the world would be extinguished “Not believe in Santa Claus! You might as well not believe in fairies! You might get your papa to hire men to watch all the chimneys on Christmas Eve to catch Santa Claus, but even if they did not see Santa Claus coming down, what would that prove? Nobody sees Santa Claus, but that is no sign that there is no Santa Claus. The most real things in the world are those that neither children nor men can see.

“Did you ever see fairies dancing on the lawn? Of course not, but that’s no proof that they are not there. Nobody can conceive or imagine all the wonders there are unseen and unseeable in the world …

“Ah, Virginia, in all this world there is nothing else real and abiding.

“No Santa Claus! Thank God he lives, and he lives forever.

“A thousand years from now, Virginia; nay, ten times ten thousand years from now, he will continue to make glad the heart of childhood.”

Throughout her life, Virginia received a steady stream of mail about her celebrated letter.

She would always include a copy of the editorial in her replies. In an interview later in life, she credited that letter with shaping the direction of her life “quite positively.”

Virginia grew up to become a teacher. She earned a BA from Hunter College in 1910, a master’s degree from Columbia and a doctorate from Fordham University. For many years,

she worked as an educator and school administrator. Her marriage to Edward Douglas was brief, and ended with him deserting her shortly before their daughter, Laura, was born. She divorced him not long after.

O’Hanlon’s famous correspondence was run in The New York Sun every year from its initial publication until the paper folded in 1949 (the newspaper’s name was revived years later).

In 1959, Virginia moved to North Chatham, New York. A few years later, she was the subject of a tribute by the North Chatham United Methodist Church. At the celebration, she read her letter and Francis P. Church’s response to an enthusiastic crowd.

L. Virginia O’Hanlon died at the age of 81 on May 13, 1971, in a nursing home at Valatie, New York. Though her old heart had failed, she never lost the magick that dwelled therein, the child-like spirit that she possessed all her life.

The significant secret of genius is to carry the riddle of the child into old age.

To the day she died, Virginia avowed she believed in Santa Claus.

So do I. Follow Ceane's Sleuth Sisters on Facebook https://www.facebook.com/TheSleuthSisters

Did You Know?

Did you know that almost every chestnut you roast this season is an import?

The North American Chestnut Tree was nearly wiped out a decade ago!

The American Chestnut Foundation is planting new trees every year and you can help!

For a donation of ten dollars they will plant a tree in the name of anyone you want What a great gift for those who have everything!

For more information go to www.afc.org and get your tree planted so generations after us can enjoy these holiday treats!

The Many Benefits of Personal Sacred Ritual

By Evan Purcell Higher Mind Incense

We live in very interesting times on this Mother Earth. Time has seemed to speed up, distraction is everywhere, and as a whole, modern society has all but lost the ancient connection to its spiritual nature and to the Earth. In light of this, many people are searching to reconnect with the sacred and many have adopted different spiritual paths such as yoga, meditation, First People’s ways, Eastern philosophies, Taoism, Buddhism and countless others, searching for a deeper meaning to this life we all share here together. I personally believe human spiritual connection on this Earth is becoming stronger in these times.

Over the past few hundred years, millions of ancestors have migrated overseas across the world away from their own culture, many allowing their native traditions to slowly fade away, dissolved by the modern societies in which we live.

Many people who are still deeply connected to their traditional roots hold tight as the Western World spins faster and creeps further into the natural green edges that surround it. Others feel the need to explore ancient, sacred traditions that they may not have been born into, but still nourish the soul, open the mind and heal the heart.

All of these spiritual and religious practices have something in common; ritual. Ritual is intrinsic to the human experience.

From the beginning of civilization, every culture held ritual and ceremony at the heart of existence. Sacredness and spirituality weren’t just a part of daily life, they were a way of life. By understanding our inherent connection to nature, our higher selves, our ancestral traditions and the Divine, we can recognize the need for nourishing them all through personal sacred ritual.

What Exactly is a Sacred Ritual?

Rituals come in many different forms. Some are communal, others are very personal experiences. They are performed for many different reasons; to nourish the spirit, for prayer, healing the self, initiation, celebration, to attain sacred wisdom, or to commune with spirits, deities, gods or goddesses, to name a few. They are a way of putting intention into action by acknowledging the spirit realm using prayer, incense, and spiritual tools. A ritual, ceremony, or sacred rite, is a procedure in which a spiritual experience is achieved at a soul level.

Spiritual Diversity of Ritual There are countless spiritual rituals and ceremonies that are unique to different cultures, belief systems and religions around the world. Some are very ancient and others more modern. They range from complex and lengthy, to short and direct. Many ceremonies of different organized religions can last up to many days, strictly following ancient traditional procedure, while other rituals can be very intuitive and formless, with the practitioner being guided by their heart and prayer.

Many devotees of Buddhism perform daily rituals of meditation and prayer, often accompanied by incense to help create a sacred atmosphere, calming the mind and sharpening the senses. Many Native rituals call for prayer and incense to strengthen the spirit, as offerings to the spirit world or the Creator, or to bless loved ones on their road of life.

There are many different indigenous purification and cleansing rituals performed in solitude or with the help of a healer.

Smudging, herbal baths, the sweat lodge or certain releasing rituals all help one to let go of things that are no longer serving their life. Often times these emotions, blockages, sicknesses or energies are given back to the Earth in one way or another. These rituals also help to rejuvenate and lift the spirit and open the heart and mind, helping one feel lighter, stronger and aligned on their spiritual path.

Celtic and Druid priests and priestesses performed rituals to honor ancient deities, faeries and nature spirits, by burning traditional incense, joining in song and dance, and speaking prayers, in alignment with the rhythms of nature and the seasons. The ancient ritual of honoring deceased ancestors in Mexico was originally a month long Aztec celebration using fires and incense, flowers, food and costumes. All cultures celebrate the passing of loved ones with their own ceremonies and rituals, many of which call upon the burning of incense accompanied by prayer.

The ritual of Puja is an ancient Hindu practice of worship. For millions of people it is a daily practice of honoring deities and the gift of life, and for many this practice is a way of life. It can be complicated or simple depending on its purpose and intention. Flowers, food and incense are given as offerings to god while an inner peace and transformation takes place through the recitation of prayer or mantra. In ancient Japan, the famous incense ceremony, the Koh-do, was performed in royal courts, uplifting the spirit through the sacred aroma of fragrant herbs and honoring the preciousness of the plant kingdom. The ancient Japanese incense masters of old named their sacred, venerable art “Listening to Incense.”

The Golden Thread of Sacred Rituals There are countless sacred rituals that are unique to every culture on our rich Earth, performed for just about any purpose imaginable. In one way or another they are all based upon connecting to the Divine, and are almost always accompanied by a form of prayer. Another golden thread that runs through just about every sacred ritual, ancient and modern, is the presence of incense; holy smoke.

Humans have burned aromatic herbs in a sacred manner during prayer and ritual for thousands of years. Some of the earliest writings of incense in the Bible speak of the holiness of fragrant plants and their strong connection to divine forces. Incense was once used to appease gods and goddesses of every religion, as a holy offering and sacrifice. It is believed to ‘open the doorway’ to the Divine, bridging our world with that of spirit. And many incense herbs certainly have the ability to ‘thin the veil’ between worlds.

On every continent, the ritual and ceremonial use of aromatic plants in the form of incense can still be found, as it is one of the most effective means to enhance any ritual. Throughout many cultures, the sense of smell is thought of to be our highest, most sacred of senses. Aroma effects the limbic system of the brain, which is directly connected to our memory, creativity, emotions, stress levels, energy levels, fear, anxiety, ecstasy and joy.

When we inhale the smoke of an aromatic herb through the nose, a magical process unfolds. Particular aromatic molecules unique to each individual plant, act as keys to unique cell receptors in the brain. When the keys enter the keyholes, they unlock internal processes that range from old memories, feelings of elation or even bliss, heightened energy, higher concentration and focus, calming of the nervous system, lowering of stress levels, to feelings of complete comfort, to name a few. It is no wonder incense goes hand in hand with ritual and prayer.

Have you ever noticed certain memories arising at first contact with a familiar smell? Have you ever felt more relaxed and comfortable after lighting incense or had something change within your consciousness after catching wind of aromatic smoke or a fragrant plant in nature? Many aromatic plants used in incense have a calming effect on the sympathetic nervous system, and often times kick the parasympathetic nervous system into action; slowing the heart rate, bringing about serenity, calmness and relaxation. Incense works to bridge the gap to the world of spirit, among many other things, but it also prepares our bodies and minds for a sacred connection, allowing us to forget about stresses and unimportant thoughts, and helps us to be present in the moment.

Exploring Simple Sacred Rituals at Home Many rituals call for years of practice and spiritual understanding that many people simply do not have. There are many simpler rituals however, that can be of profound benefit in the privacy of your own home. Meditation, gratitude, prayer, mantras, chanting, the Native American ritual of Smudging, and others are simple yet profound practices that can lead to positive change and personal transformation through repetition. Starting your day with a simple morning act of sacredness, incense burning, and ritual can have profound effects on your daily life. It sure beats turning on the news before work, or checking Facebook or your swamped inbox.

One of my favorite ways to start the day is with a cup of tea, followed by prayer and the burning of incense. Simply sit in a quiet space, center yourself and do your best to free your mind of any thoughts that don’t pertain to the moment. Then begin to set your intentions or prayer for the day ahead with incense in hand, light your incense and become enveloped by the sacred smoke carrying your prayer upwards to the Creator. This is what I like to call being “shrouded in prayer,” and helps to start the day out with more purpose and direction towards your goals and dreams.

Smudging Ritual Smudging is a traditional Native American ritual that calls upon the aid of certain aromatic plants to help cleanse and purify mind, energy, thoughts and spirit. The most common herb used in this ritual is white sage. Sage is a potent incense herb that is known to dispel negativity, malevolent spirits, undesirable emotions and thoughts, and cleanse the subtle energy fields of the body. Smudging can be performed to purify a home or sacred space, other people or yourself. It is most beneficial when energies or stress accumulates, causing anxiety, difficult emotions or unwanted feelings. Cedar or sweetgrass are traditionally burned after burning white sage to draw in positive energies, thoughts and emotions, and benevolent spirits.

Meditation There are many forms of meditation utilized throughout many different spiritual traditions. Different incenses are used during meditation to achieve greater focus, sharper awareness and higher states of consciousness. Sometimes, a trancelike state is achieved by chanting or reciting mantras, while other variations focus on clearing the mind of thoughts and concerns. Some people meditate with particular plants, and some forms of meditation demand complete diligence and are aimed at achieving enlightenment. No matter which style of meditation may call to you, they are all aimed at helping one to step out of daily reality into a deeper, more meaningful inner experience where one can nourish their connection to the mysteries of life, spirit, and their own higher selves.

Someone once shared with me a very profound teaching after many years of Buddhist and Vipassana meditation. I asked why I had so much trouble turning off my busy, ‘monkey mind.’ In turn they replied saying, “Meditation is not all about turning off your thoughts completely, rather changing the quality of the thoughts experienced during your meditations.” This changed my perspective entirely. Through practice and perseverance, my thoughts began to change from undesirable or mundane thoughts, to higher thoughts of wisdom and insight.

Again, with many forms of meditation having different focuses, I recommend you find a style that feels best to you and incorporate it into your daily life. With a daily meditation session, even just thirty minutes to an hour, relief of stress, anxiety, negative emotions, old patterns and many other personal transformations can take place.

Prayer and Gratitude Rituals Prayer is a universal practice, a way of life that can be found throughout every religion, spiritual practice and culture. It is an intrinsic part of life, a way to be in better alignment with your own unique path. It is a way to consciously move forward by deciding which direction in life to go. Prayer is a way to speak to whatever higher power you believe in. It can be used to express gratitude for the blessings in your life, for asking for guidance through struggles and challenges, for calling in positive change and growth, strength, confidence, courage, health, wellness, joy, a loving partner, etc. As prayer is a way of life, it can pertain to every human experience, and can be used to bring more positive outcomes in any circumstance with practice and repetition.

In most cultures, prayer is strengthened through the use of incense. Sacred herbs are used to hold people’s prayers. By simply holding herbs or incense in your hands and consciously directing a prayer into it, then burning the incense, the prayer is released and ascends through dancing smoke. It is believed that when a prayer is infused into incense in this way, the sacred element of fire then consumes the physical body of the incense allowing the smoke, containing the prayer, to be released from its physical bonds upward towards the spirit realms or heavens.

Incense Ritual An incense ritual is very simple ritual that anyone can perform. The ritual itself is simple, though the effects and unseen magic of it are complex and work on many subtle and energetic levels. In an incense ritual, prayer can be used in the ways explained above, or the simple act of lighting an incense and sitting in its presence as it burns, can also hold countless benefits. The act of stepping out of your daily routine to sit in silence as a cone, resin or stick of incense burns is rewarding in itself.

The mysterious nature of aromatic plants and incense works on other levels as well. In addition to the many benefits of taking time to yourself during an incense ritual, the smoke from sacred herbs comes to life in different ways within you and around you.

The plants work their magic on energetic and spiritual levels as well as effecting the human psychology and physiology. As the many aromatic molecules of incense smoke find their way through the nostrils, into the olfactory receptors in the brain, into the lungs, and eventually into the bloodstream, they carry with them their unique healing potential and medicinal properties. The mind, emotions, subtle sensations, cognitive functions, memories, and the sympathetic and parasympathetic nervous system are all effected in positive ways. It is no wonder that so many ancient medicinal practices such as Traditional Chinese medicine and Ayurveda prescribed the burning of incense for many nervous, mental and emotional disorders.

The Ancient Art of ‘Listening to Incense The fragrant history of ancient Japan is rich, colorful, and full of tales of the wildest imagination. Heavily influenced by early Buddhism, Japan was introduced to many sacred rites and rituals that called for particular incenses to be burned. Many royal functions and court events adopted such rituals. Over many centuries, a variety of exotic aromatic herbs were introduced by travelers from China and India. These herbs were incorporated into the standing rituals and eventually were crafted into a variety unique blends. Many incense crafters strayed away from incense that was reserved solely for religious purposes, and began to explore the depths of pleasure, sensuality, and the aesthetics of aroma through non-religious ritual.

At this time, the Koh-do incense ceremony was born. Participants of this ceremony took the art of incense very seriously. They would hone in on the subtle sensations, feelings, emotions, and aromatic signatures that were unique to the herbs and incenses that were burned.

Countless hours of practice, silent meditation with incense, attuning the sense of smell, and learning to tune into the heart, were all incorporated into a daily practice of ritual.

Through their diligence, they were rewarded with stillness of mind, absence of stress or anxiety, inner peace and calm, a stronger connection to the Divine, healthier mind and thoughts, and the healing wisdom of the plants they used. The Koh-do masters of old were true masters of aroma, penetrating deeper past the surface of scent, into the higher realms of the fragrant mind, and coining the humble phrase, “Listening to Incense.�

The abilities of the Koh-do practitioners can still be developed by anyone today with practice and diligence.

Many of the techniques they used can even be integrated into other rituals or incense ceremonies. Learning to be more present while sharpening the senses and awareness with incense smoke, can be a profound aid to ones spiritual practice or personal ritual. Incense holds the key to unlocking the divine potential that lives within us all.

If a personal incense ritual, or any form of sacred ritual is performed on a regular basis, peace of mind, ease of emotions, calmness of the heart and relaxation can be felt emanating throughout your daily life. Whether you are searching to connect to something greater than yourself, are desiring more sacred experiences, or are desiring more balance and harmony within, establishing sacred ritual in your life is one of the most rewarding things you can do. Creating a sacred rhythm through ritual is part of our human nature, and with the aid of incense, it holds the key to unlocking hidden potential, inner wisdom, inner peace and personal transformation.

Higher mind incense can be followed on Facebook at https://www.facebook.com/highermindincense/

They are also running an indiegogo campaign. To help out go to: https://www.indiegogo.com/projects/higher-mind-incense-new-heights/x/13946364#/

The Magical Healing Spirit of Yule

By Lady Stars & Fire Oh, good golly. It feels just like Mistletoe and Holly. This has been what I have been hearing come out of my mothers mouth ever sence late October. At first I thought it a bit strange. I mean at this time it was only late October. We were still a ways away from December and the Yule Holiday itself. Now lets just face it, us witches just do not chalk things up to sheer coincidence and blow it off. Oh no no no we see into and read through everything. Really, just out of thin air she starts singing Yule holiday songs. Or actually not songs just one over and over. An that one happens to mention mistletoe and holly. Sure.

Ok the thing here is that in my personal life, at this time I am still undergoing levels of my Shamanic training.

We are learing to work and merge with Spirit in dance and music for healing purposes. Again...Really. Ok spirit I'm listening bring on the lessons and teach me the healings. As well as lets jump right on into this holiday.

We recieve healing from spirit more than we ever realize. In ways that we could or would never have imagined. Often it go's simply unnoticed. However that is the magic and love of spirit. Now connecting with spirit, learning from or being guided to understand those messages from them. Well, that is a completly an amazing event within itself. Eye opening and enlighting to say the very least. Spirit simply understands and is able to see the truth of all things in a depth we honestly can not. Nor ever will understand- that is without being shown or taught it from them.

Now this article isn't exactly about that song my mother had been singing to herself or my mother at all. Its about the blessing of spirit itself. All that spirit will go through to try to get us there. If infact we are willing to recieve from them that help. You see that very magic they hold. It is about the ability that spirit does have to bring us healing and hope. You see shortly after I realized that something much deeper than just the singing of a holiday song was going on. I asked spirit, why? Why this song? When it was pointed out to me- she only sings it when she needs a boost, a pick me up, an uplift of spirit. Then they pointed out to me as well- look at what she sings- what is mistletoe and Holly? Hahaha I see it now, I get it. Without even being aware of it she is blessing herself with divine healing manifestation. Thank you spirit for helping my Mommie.

This is exactly what I'm talking about. Spirit much like the spiritual animal guide of a deer. Brings us its medicine by simply nudging us into the correct or best direction for us. Trying to put us back on track so to speak. However nobody said that task would be easy to accomplish. Especially when you cant mess with free will and Spirit itself has not been asked for help. Nor that it could or would be done in a happy fun loving cheerful way always. It's simple for some of us out here sugar and spice and everything nice is just not gonna get us there. Sometimes the sweet and the sour must be mixed to get the job done. Thankfully we often get the sugar and spice side as it is such a sweeter blessing at the time.

Just like the idea to sing the song my mother was singing to herself. But for some that sweet and sour is very nesacarry just like for Scrooge or the Grench.

However the Yule Holiday Season happens to have a hidden spiritual driving force behind it unlike any other. Lets face it. It is written even in the music “ It's the most wonderful time of the year�.

Everything we hear and often see is targeted to

bringing us hope, cheer, love and expecially light our way. It is a time of hope and a reminder of faith unlike any other time of the year. This spiritual force is powerful. This is the very Spirit of Yule itself. I mean all rolled into one- it is to uplift the soul, make us remember we are and can be better people. Even our movies we watch each and every year do the very same thing. My favorite is The Christmas Carol otherwise known as Scrooge. We all have at least heard of the story thats why I used his name earlier. The wealthy old miserable man known as Scrooge. Whom cares nothing for anyone else, only himself and his money. He is visited by the three ghost...to get his life back on track in a positive way...or else! Yet over night it worked. Love and light has been restored.

So lets stop for just a moment and look back upon this classic. The story is all about being forced into a level of enlightening and awakening. Just it was scriped and so beautifully written to lift our spirit. To remind us people can change and that love is always right. As he often says at the end of the movie “I'm as light as a feather�. He has severed those cords that made him the crule old Scrooge.

The things is, we whom have already awakened can see such a deeper truth hidden in the story. Within the act of the three ghosts themselves. This story is far more than just a Christmas movie. It is equally about awakening to oneness as well as overcoming fear of ego. It is also a message about spirit itself. How sometimes the light can only be found by sifting through the dark. An most importantly.. There is nothing to fear from the dark.

You see this movie reminds me personally of my awakening. As I happened to be one of those many stubborn out here that was full of ego. I was a good person, but I was ego driven. So that sugar and spice thing. No, that was not gonna work on me at all. Or help to get me back on track and into the right path. For those of you whom have heard of me. I never hide that I was not one of those whom re-awakened and just blossomed into light. Hahaha, oh no. Unlike the Scrooge movie, and that overnight visit from the ghosts was not gonna be done so easily. Between spirit and the physical world itself - oh how they had a number to do on me.

They say sometimes we must be broken, to be fixed. In my case that could not be more true. I share this because there are many out there learning of spirit and awakening from a fearful place. This is for them as they need to be reminded sometimes this is exactly how it is done and there really is nothing to fear. I have been there.

When I was first re-awakened it was one thing after another going wrong. I was even robbed at gun point. I was made to become scared. Or brocken from what I once was. I knew it all, I was stubborn and bold, I was far from being sacared of anything or anyone. What can I say Im a Leo. Oh, but how they were about to teach me, Missy you know nothing! Scared, yes I did become. I started to see spirit more clearly. However whom I was seeing the most is what caused most of my Fear. I must have spent at least a year and a half seeing Death or what many call him the Grimm Reaper. I was seeing him almost daily. My growing fear even caused me to bleed internally on and off for months. I didnt tell anyone at first. What was I gonna say? I think death is following me. People would have thought I was crazy. I kept it to myself because I also feared nobody would believe me. Grimm never came to close but always seemed to be there or close enough. He has never touched me. My mind even stared to create every scary monster I had ever heard of or seen in movies. It was like they brought to life in a ghost form.

Grimm would stand sometimes between them and I. He would never look directly at me just never allow what my mind was creating to get to me. Over time, I learned I was creating it, all but him. Eventually, I learn not to fear him. He was there to wake me up and take my dead from me. Nothing more and nothing less. As I started to see the light hidden in my own personal darkness I would see him less.

Infact I stared to see him with other people from time to time and I learned when he would stop and he would look at me.

I was being asked to help someone else through their darkness. For I had finally come to understand.

This is all about being as I like to put it- rebuilt. Like the Moth to the flame. learning how to find the light within the darkness. Rebuilding to see light and strength to do it. Now I help others whom were like me.

SPIRIT WILL DO JUST ABOUT ANYTHING TO GET US BACK ON TRACK. EVEN IF THAT MEANS TOSSING YOU INTO YOUR OWN DARKNESS AND WAIT FOR YOU TO BECOME THE MOTH AND START TO SHED EGO. SO LIGHT CAN BE FOUND. I have found, this is a healing with the awakening that we must sometimes go through. Just like Scrooge.

Spirit has taught me Yule is backed with so much force of light because it is a perfect time to remind us whom it is we should and could be all year round. That we can rise above what we may have been.

Yes it is all about the Light. In fact, Yule is known as the Celebration for the Rebirth of the Sun. As well as planning for the future. Remember in the zodiac the Sun is our core energy.

I was also shown in a form the Season it is somewhat backed by the Hebrew letter Gimel to teach us of our own light. In Hebrew all letters have many spiritual meanings. To many it is known as the language of light. In short the Gimel means “ The rich man running after the poor man- to give of charity”. In the Torah this means both the reward and the punishment for they both have the same inner goal or aim. That goal or aim is of the reflection of the soul. To merit and receive light to the fullest extent.

So this also helps us to understand why as the song go's “ It's the most wonderful time of the year.”

For many out there this is also the most painful time of year. That would be the Gimel and the reflection of our souls light or lack of it. That is both the reward and the punishment coming forth to help push us and get us back on track. Back to the fullest extent of our Souls light through either the reward or the punishment.

You see for the most part during this wonderful holiday season. It is a time that most of us in the world are open to receive hope and love. We are looking for it. We are listening for it. Most of all, we are longing for it. This makes us all more open to the spirit itself consciously or unconsciously. We are, it is that simple. This is exactly why the souls flame from within us at this time is the easest to relight at this time of year. We are all reminded. We are all connected. This is why at this time Spirit is able to reach us so strongly. As well as so powerfully be that force of healing light.. Because so many are connected at this time.

That force for it is stronger because we do want it and spirits healing. We just have to learn healing is not only sugar and spice and everything nice, sometimes we have to take both the sweet and the sour as a whole.

The Yule season is known as The most wonderful time of the year because of the healing power of the Yule Spirt. That my love is the power of our own manifestation working along side with that hidden magical power of spirit.

Only during the Yule Season is the world itself as one -looking and longing to be inspired so spiritually. So we fill its strength each year to remind us to never give up on hope or to have faith in others. Yule does this each and every year as to we. So each year we do come back together again as one. In more ways than we were ever aware of. Again That is the magical healing spirit of the Yule season.

May that Light be with you now and always.

And May your Reflection of Soul help you to merit and receive light to the fullest extent.

To help you be connected this Yule Season. I am providing some of the research I have found connecting to The Spirit of Yule.

Herbs- Bayberry, Blessed Thistle, Frankincense, Holly, Mistletoe, Oak, Laurel, Cedar, Pine and Sage.

Stones- Rubies, Bloodstone, Garnets, Emerlda, Cats Eye and Diamonds Animals- Stag, Wolf, Hawk, Squirrels, Goat, Wren, Robin, Phoenix Much Love Always xoxo in the winds And may you have a Blessed Yule Season From, Lady Stars and Fire An Our Magical Sanctuary.

www.ladystarsandfire.com

Death Shall Have No Dominion

By Avellina Balestri

Deep in a tangled forest, there dwelt four sisters whose mother, a wood-wife, had died by the bite of a werewolf years before. Still they spun her magic through potion and spell, healing and weaving with color and light, and villagers brave enough to venture into the forest depths would seek favors from them. They never turned anyone away without a meal from their cauldron nor a cloak from their spinning wheel.

But forces of evil were at work who sought their powers for their own ends. A robber king made camp on the far end of the wood, and learned from his own gnarled soothsayer that mating with any one of these sisters might grant him power to reign supreme in the forest and over the villages beyond it. So he took it upon himself to capture them and bring them to his camp.

His cohorts found them collecting roots and berries. At first, the sisters fought with their magic, blinding their attackers with blinding light from their eyes, and proceeding to transform them into snakes and toads. But the soothsayer of the robber king, with her dark powers, proceeded to reverse the spell and put the three sisters into a death-like sleep.

When they awoke as prisoners in the camp, the robber king, dressed in his finest stolen cloak, told them his intent. He would mate with one of them, or have all of them killed in the most brutal fashion he could devise. He ordered that they should be untied, and took the eldest away to a glen with him.

She was the most beautiful of the four, with hair as black as onyx stone, and eyes that resonated a deep fern-green. Her skin was smooth as cream, and lips rich and red. His desire for her grew, the heat of lust cracking through his heart of ice. He tried to pull down her red garment, but she clung to it fiercely, and used her magic to make it burn his fingers.

“Give me your body, or you she shall know the death of fire!” he growled.

“You shall not have my body, and death shall have no dominion,” she replied defiantly.

“We shall see,” he spat.

He called over his men, and together, using heavy gloves devised to avoid the sting of her powers, they strapped her to an oak tree, and placed a pile of kindling at her feet. Then they took oil used to light their lamps, and poured it over her and the wood. Then the torch was thrown upon the pile.

The flames flared about her billowing dress, and she felt them singe her legs and thighs charcoal black. She felt them crawl up her bodice and lick the oil from her flesh. They danced the dance of death around her, and she moaned as it seared her skin. The sparks flew to her hair and made it their new torch. She listed as her face melted away, and her soul was consumed and carried away with the swirling smoke.

Next, he took the second eldest sister to the edge of a deep marsh. She had soft brown hair, like the willows, and matching eyes, with flecks of red in them that gave them an otherworldly glint. Her lips were pale as her skin, but the robber king still desired her with ferocity. He tried to pull down her silky white wrap, but she made his fingers freeze to the bone.

“Give me your body, or you she shall know the death of water!” he threatened.

“You shall not have my body, and death shall have no dominion,” she retorted.

“We shall see.”

He bound her arms and took her in a small boat to the deepest section of the marsh. Once there he cast her overboard. The water was cold and dark, and the weeds wrapped her in their deadly embrace. Sometimes she sank, sometimes broke the surface for breath, but soon her dress grew heavy, and pulled her under. The fingers of the current pressed in upon her, drawing her into their watery caress.

Resigning to her fate, she parted her lips and let her last breath run out of her in bubbles streaming to the surface. And then she inhaled the water deeply, letting it fill her lungs and draw her into a sickened slumber. The numbness of death rushed through her body and prickled along her skin, until her mouth remained agape and her eyes became dark, sightless holes from which the light of her soul swam away.

Next, the murderer took the third sister to the side of a precipice. She had hair so fair in shimmered white as the mountain snows and eyes of turquoise, like a robin’s eggs. He reached out for her blue dress, but she cast a circle of the wind that thrust his hands away from her.

“Give me your body, or you she shall know death in the air!”

“You shall not have my body, and death shall have no dominion.”

“We shall see.”

He bound a rope about her hands and a longer one around her swan-white neck and hurled her off the edge. The knot tightened beneath her wind-pipe and she gasped at the strain of suffocation. She swung to and fro, gazing listlessly at the ravens flying beneath in waiting for her to be their feast at eve.

Her face changed to a sea-sick green to a desperate blue as she wheezed to draw a few final gulps of air. At last, her face drained a mushroom gray as her neck-bone snapped, sending a shudder along her spine and her soul flying away on ebony wings.

Finally, the fiend seized the youngest sister and brought her to the part of the camp where the butchering of animals was done, and showed her the pit where the parts were thrown away. Her hair was wild and red, her skin ruddy, and her hazel eyes afraid. He took hold of her hair, and tugged it hard.

“Give me your body, or you shall know death in the pit of the earth!”

“You shall not have my body, and death shall have no dominion,” she declared, though her voice was shaking.

So furious was he that he seized a butcher’s knife himself and thrust it through her belly and slit it open. She screamed as he cut out her bowels and liver and cast them into the pit for the feast of the forest wolves. Dark blood spilled over her lips, as he cut out her tiny beating heart. She released a final groan as it was torn from her bosom, and then felt nothing more. Tears gleamed in her dulling eyes and carried her souls in their journey down her ashen cheeks. He then submerged her corpse in the mud of the nearby marsh.

That night, with the blood of the sisters still fresh on his hands, a great tumult was heard in the robber king’s camp. Streaks of fire shot through the sky, scalding all who stood in its path. Next water invaded the camp in a sudden flash flood, drowning all who stood in its path. Next there came a wind, carrying away anyone who stood in its path. And lastly the earth itself rebelled, and quick sand pits formed in the ground, pulling down anyone in their path.

With all his men slain or scattered, and only the soothsayer standing beside him, the robber king was agape at what he was forced to confront. Standing in front of him were a dragon, a seal, a raven, and a horse, with the eyes of the murdered maidens blazing through him. Their ghosts had returned to haunt him. And then they parted and made way for the fiercest of them all: their matriarch, the werewolf.

She leapt forward and slew the soothsayer with a single bite to the throat. The robber king watched as the hag gurgled in death-agony within the animals’ jaws and then fell silent, her seer’s eyes still open but seeing no more.

“Death shall have no dominion,” the werewolf growled.

And at that moment he recognized her eyes as his shape-shifting lover from many years afore, the queen of faery enchantment with whom he had mystically wed in the circle of summer light that served as a portal to the Otherworld. He had been pure then, before he had taken on the soothsayer who turned his thoughts to greed and lust and violence, and abandoned his wife.

And then his glassy heart sank and shattered in his breast, as he realized that the murdered maids were his own four daughters. All the horrors of his crimes flashed before him, and he fell to his knees with his face buried in his hands.

“I ask but one boon!” he cried out, rending his cloak. “Let me die by the cauldron of justice.”

So the cauldron from the sister’s hut appeared before him, into the cauldron he cast himself, and felt the flesh boil from his bones as he was submerged in its fathomless depths. But the flame of regeneration was upon him, flickering through his ribs, and melting his heart that fell in drops of sorrow like tears of wax.

And by those drops, there formed a seal, singed but not consumed by hellfire. It spelled out a word that justice had cooked in the cauldron of the four elements for eons, for one whose acts deserved the eternal damnation…and yet found itself shape-shifted by eyes softened by salt-water and shame, and a pleading, not so much to be spared as to express the inexpressible sorrow for evils that had no bottom.

This word upon the seal we will not say; you must stir the cauldron of your own soul to find it, or else find it scratched upon the sands of time, if you dare. It may burn your lips, or moisten them, if you choose to speak it or break it open. The choice is yours alone.

THE END

Author's Bio Avellina Balestri (aka Rosaria Marie) is freelance writer from Maryland, USA. She is also editor-in-chief of the online magazine "The Fellowship of The King" (www.thefellowshipoftheking.net), exploring the arts through a spiritual lens. Her works on history, mythology, folklore, pop culture, and spirituality have been published in over 20 publications as well as various online writing forums and communities. To keep up with her writing adventures, please visit her Facebook Page: www. facebook.com/avellinambalestri

From The Natanleods A Yule Tale

By Sunbow Pendragon Chapter 1 “By the Lady, I would like to have a festive Yule this year!” Hadrian declared to Deborah soon after her hand-fasting to Erinn.

“Now that we have a proper hostess in the house, it should be easy enough!” he continued expansively.

The young woman smiled faintly, knowing he was referring to her. “I suppose ‘twould be,” she said as she continued to work on the letter she was drafting for the High Lord. “And I suppose we would want to invite all of the nobles as well, whether or not they are our friends?” she asked pointedly.

“Of course, all are welcome! ‘Tis Yule!” Hadrian smiled. “We have no enemies during such a sacred time!”

“I wish the unfriendly nobles would remember that,” Deborah replied acidly.

“Perhaps they will, in time my dear,” Hadrian observed sagely. “Now, are ye finished with that letter?” he asked gently.

“Just now, let me sprinkle the sand over it and set it aside for a moment. I suppose now ye wish to draft an invitation to the party?” she asked.

“I would, but I think we should call for a meal,” Hadrian smiled. “Ye look tired.”

Deborah smiled, for the labor of late had been very tiring. The backlog of correspondence and other work was finally clearing after Hadrian’s long illness.

Soon after accepting the position, Deborah had spent a five-day cleaning and organizing Hadrian’s workspace, finding dozens of unopened and forgotten letters in the process. First she had merely organized the missives, until she found one with the seal broken due to its long exposure to the elements inside the house. She soon discovered it was from Severus, who had housed the Black Dragons during Erinn’s first mission as Knight Commander. The letter detailed the looting of the Magistrate’s house in that district, due to the people’s anger over the situation in the Land. He had also mentioned that people were leaving the district in droves, because the roads and other infrastructure had been damaged during the war and were not yet fixed. The letter detailed the many homes and farms that were abandoned, needing new families as well. No wonder no one had known, she had thought ruefully as she continued to sort through them and finding others whose seals had let loose with the passage of time. All of them called for aid, but Hadrian had begun to answer them with action without acknowledging the letters. She continued to organize and sort them for him to see, finally finishing several hours later. As she had continued to clean the room, finding dirty clothing and wadded papers stuffed here and there she also found a beautiful box, decorated as if for Yule. It was locked, and no persuasion of magick would open it, she soon discovered.

Frustrated in her attempts to satisfy her curiosity that day, she put it back where she had found it, reckoning to ask Hadrian about it.

While she ruminated, Hadrian strode to the bell cord and pulled it to summon assistance. Even he was surprised when Millicent pushed her cart through the door several moments later, the Kitchen Mistress having anticipated the High Lord “Now then, I’ve the onion soup ye’ve grown to love so much to start with, then simple vegetables fried together and a bowl of faro grain for yer main course. My Lady Deborah, would ye taste the drink in the pitcher, and tell me what ye think?” she asked as she began to serve Hadrian.

Deborah did as she was asked, finding the drink excellent.

“What have ye got there?” she asked. “‘Tis amended apple cider,” Millicent answered. “Last year, I made cinnamon liquor, using some of the apple peels for the color. I have found it improves the taste of apple cider, as well as the effect for adults.”

Deborah smiled broadly. “It tastes like an apple pastry, made from beautifully ripe fruit,” she complimented. “The effect is subtle, but I can feel it. I like it.”

“I thought ye would. I was considering this for one of the sideboard offerings for Yule,” Millicent told her.

“Ah, the Secretary and I were just discussing that this morning!” Hadrian put in. “We are going to host a grand party and invite all of the nobles!”

“All of them?” Millicent asked, her voice sounding a little shocked.

“Aye, all of them that are still living, in any case,” Hadrian chuckled darkly. “The second meal is delicious, Milli. I truly enjoy this crisp tender way ye have fried the vegetables together. ‘Tis light, and a bit crunchy, wonderful texture and taste.”

“Thank ye, Hadrian,” Millicent replied brightly, truly pleased that he did like it. After discovering the man was slowly being poisoned to death by someone the Natanleods had adopted as a sister, Deborah had instituted a new dietary regime for Hadrian. Teaching Millicent how to cook the foods had been easy, getting Hadrian to accept the changes to his diet had been much harder. Deborah had found him sneaking foods he was not supposed to have, to the point of having to search his room daily for a while after finding a cache of sweets under his bed. Now, Hadrian seemed to enjoy the lighter foods he was being served, as long as he had at least one serving of meat a day he would not be too grumpy or moody. Now Deborah watched him finish his meal with a large wedge of apple pie and a cup of steaming tea while she nibbled at the bowl of fresh fruit and yogurt brought for her.

“Back to the party for Yule,” Hadrian readdressed the issue with suppressed excitement. “I want to use the traditional decorations we have downstairs, and we will need a large tree too. My goodness, we have not had a tree in the High Lord’s house since the family house was burnt twenty years ago!” he observed.

“Ye are right, and I have missed the smell of fresh greenery in the house,” Millicent sighed. “All of the family decorations are here, I know where they are. But, the room is locked securely despite every attempt I have made to open the door.”

“Ah, Julia’s magick was difficult to break, once she decided to use it,” Hadrian sighed. “I do miss her. As far as the key to the storage room goes, ‘tis in here somewhere, I think.”

“I think ye are right, My Lord,” Deborah spoke up. “I found an ornate box, decorated as if for Yule when I cleaned up yer office the first time. I did leave it where I found it, however.”

“Ah!” Hadrian smiled and since he was finished with his meal, he rose taking his tea cup with him, walking to the place where the box resided. Taking it down, he brought it to the table and turned it once, finding the latch and pushing it, opening the bejeweled box. The key inside looked like solid gold to Deborah, it certainly felt like gold when she touched the satiny smooth surface. She had not felt gold very often in her life, and the metal still had the entrancing effect upon her, due to its luster and beauty. Hadrian saw her reaction, and again his heart went soft for her, knowing what a hard life she had lived so far. He was determined to see to her well-being now, due to how he felt about her. Hadrian had come to see her as a daughter or a beloved niece, as had Drake, and now a great treasure was to be shared with her as the High Lord put the key into her hand. “My family has held these decorations safely for many generations. Many High Ladies have handled them, and now, they are yers to use. Welcome to our house, my dear. Use the decorations as ye see fit. We will need the help of some of those off-duty knights downstairs too, some of the decorations are rather heavy. I and Drake shall handle the matter of the tree,” he assured her.

“Very well, My Lord. Would ye like for me to arrange the traditional feast as well? Wild game, puddings, sweet breads and the like?” she asked.

“O, would ye?” Hadrian asked wistfully. “I have not had a steamed pudding since my mother passed. I used to love them.”

“Very well, I shall make suet pudding, and I think an apple and raisin one as well,” Deborah mused aloud. “Roast venison would do nicely for the meat, or perhaps wild boar?” she continued thinking aloud as she gathered the dishes, put them on the cart and left the room with Millicent, being certain to take the key and put it in a secure pocket. Hadrian watched the women leave before sitting to contact Drake.

“Brother, can ye talk right now?” he asked, then sat expectantly for a bit. Finally, he heard his brother’s mental response.

“I am sorry brother, I was resting. I think I actually slept. What is on yer mind?”

“I have given Deborah the key to the storage room where the family treasures are,” Hadrian replied, sounding almost mischievous to Drake’s senses. “After ordering the grand celebration of Yule, I asked her to provide the grand celebration of Yule, I asked her to provide the traditional setting for it.”

“Mmmm…roast venison,” Drake’s reply came back at once. “I hope she makes steamed puddings, like our mother used to.”

“I would wager she makes them better than our mother used to,” Hadrian chuckled. “Our mother was not as patient as Deborah has proven to be. Baking is a science of patience, or so Millicent keeps reminding me.”

“And so ye are discussing all of this with me now why?” Drake asked in an amused tone.

“If she is to put on the traditional celebration, we will need an appropriately sized tree, brother. I thought ye might handle that, when the time comes.”

“If ye would like, I should be only too happy to provide transportation for it,” Drake chuckled. “Leave the matter to me then, I shall make a trip to the wildwood in search of a proper tree.”

“Good, I cannot wait to have the scent of fresh evergreen boughs all over the house!” Hadrian exclaimed. “Ye will bring extra boughs, so she can trim the house properly?”

“Of course, brother,” Drake chuckled, thinking this was the most excited about Yule he had seen his brother in many years.

The months passed quickly, winter’s chill fell and the responses to their invitations began to return, accepted of course.

Deborah soon realized the entire house would be full, and began to make preparations to see to their comforts. She broke out the best linens, blankets and comforters to dress the rooms, as well as knitting slippers for each couple attending. The rooms were properly stocked with drinkables and a small supply of pipeweed. Time passed as they made their preparations, and excitement began to build amongst the staff, for everyone loved the festive Winter Holiday.

Three days before the holiday, Drake prepared for his trip into the forest, anticipating the exercise. He was very happy to have the chance to spend Yule with Hadrian, after all the years of war and strife followed by the discovery of his brother’s poisoning, he had thought not to have the chance to do so. He rose from his bed and stretched to his full height, waking Jovita despite how quiet he tried to be.

“Ye slept late,” she remarked.

“So did ye,” he smiled.

“I had good reason to.”

“As did I, my dear,” Drake smiled. “Would ye like to go with me to the wildwood? If the traditional Yule celebration, and the High Lord, require a tree of suitable proportions, then a dragon is called for.”

“Anytime ye are called for, a dragon is needed,” Jovita laughed. “How soon are we going? Do we have time for a quick meal?”

“I think we do, if we are quick about it,” Drake smiled. He hadn’t thought he would ever be able to charm her back to his side after the wars, and all of the trouble between the Natanleods and the Amazons. To find her here, in his room, after so many years was a miraculous occurrence to him. “Ye needn’t pack a bag, we will not be remaining.”

“I would think not, considering how ye feel about campaigning in the winter,” Jovita chuckled. Quickly dressing in warm clothing as well as heavy cloaks with hoods, tucking gloves for their hands into their pockets, they evaporated from Drake’s room to the kitchen, finding griddlecakes, eggs and sausage available. With delight, the War Duke accepted his plate of four cakes, two eggs and several links, pouring warm apple compote over all. While Jovita’s plate held a smaller portion, it was just as enthusiastically received, along with caffe for both. Once the plates were clean, the two stopped quickly in the kitchen to rinse out mouths, and pass the rosemary branch over teeth and gums.

They evaporated from there, appearing just at the edge of the wildwood before entering the dark, tree-rich expanse that bordered the capital city. As soon as they did, flakes of snow began to fall lightly, quickly increasing in both size and rapidity.

Jovita repressed a chuckle when Drake began to swear quietly about having to be out in the snow and cold. The man had been campaigning for many years in all kinds of weather, but the winter campaigns had been the hardest of them all. She knew for a fact he had lost men to the cold that would have lived otherwise, and campaigning in the harsh frost was hard on both warriors and their horses. Quietly, she pulled a flask from her inner pocket and handed it to him, watching him take it with a grateful smile and sip a few times from it before handing it back.

“My thanks, ‘tis very warming,” he said.

“Ye are most welcome,” Jovita replied.

He reached out for her gloved hand then with his, and they walked along in the snow sharing the flask silently. Drake was listening with his magickal senses, waiting to hear the right tree call out to him as they walked slowly and purposefully through the woods. Finally, as they began to be blanketed by snow, he heard a faint voice amongst all the others.

“I am here, please, help me.”

“Jovita, I believe we have found what we are looking for,” he said quietly. She said nothing, however her right hand went to the pendant she wore about her neck. Pulling it from under her shirt, she looked at it critically for a moment, to see if it was glowing. It was not, and she was thoroughly relieved as she replaced the necklace under her shirt and followed after him.

Within a short while they found a grand old fir tree, standing within a circle of younger trees. Drake walked to the mother tree of the grove and put his hand on the trunk reverently. She was old, he could see her age upon her and hear it in the voice of the elemental within.

“Ah, ye are finally here,” he heard the tree’s pain-filled voice in his mind. “Ye have come at last to give me rest. Ye can see my children all about, but I am very old now. I do not know how much longer I shall stand, and I would like my death to have some purpose. ‘Tis Yule, and the High Lord seeks a tree to decorate his house. Please, spare me further pain and slow decline to rot? Let me be of service?”

“If ‘tis yer wish,” Drake replied within his mind. “I shall do the deed personally, to assure yer quick and painless passing. I thank ye humbly, for offering yer service this way, allowing us to bring some of the Goddess’ beauty into our home for the holiday.”

While Drake held converse with the ancient fir tree, Deborah was in the bowels of the High Lord’s house, searching for the right door that fit the key. As she walked through the corridor of locked doors, she saw one that was slightly different. It looked older, of a different style than the rest. Withdrawing the key from her pocket, she compared its outline to the outline of the keyhole and smiled broadly. The keyhole looked like a dragon, and the key fit perfectly into the opening, turning easily as if just used the day before and the door swung open. Deborah’s mouth dropped, for now she could see the real wealth of the ancient house. What she saw could truly be a dragon’s hoard she thought with a faint smile, and it was all neatly and carefully put away, catalogued and inventoried. Chests she thought surely held treasure stood stacked up against one wall, while on the opposite side of the room were rows of cabinets. When she opened the first one she found the first of the special ornaments Hadrian had mentioned earlier. There were also several pairs of soft gloves at hand, and after donning a pair that fit her perfectly, she withdrew the large ornament carefully. She saw it was a glass sphere with thirteen rays, covered in pure gold, molded to represent the sun at full daylight. In the next, she found the moon, in all of Her phases, molded in glass and covered with pure silver. Walking from one to the next of the storage cupboards, she found star shapes as well. They were also cast glass, but they were also covered with pure silver, so as to represent the nighttime sky. As she continued to look, she also found huge pillows, sewn to look like clouds, imbedded with silver and gold threads. Deborah finally pulled all of the decorations out and unwrapped them, letting her mind consider what could be done with them. So lost in her thoughts was she that she did not notice the shade take form in the corner of the room and approach her, finally gently touching her shoulder to get her attention.

“Who are ye?” Deborah asked, pulling her personal blade, a gift from Erinn during their courtship, the knife’s weight giving her comfort as she confronted the shade.

“I am Ramona, I am the wife of Alistarr Natanleod, the patriarch of our clan,” she introduced herself. “Welcome to the family, child.”

“I am honored to make yer acquaintance, My Lady,” Deborah replied, bowing low. Ramona smiled and her shade became much more solid, until she looked as alive as Deborah. “How may I be of service to ye?”

“I hear Elanor’s teaching there,” Ramona smiled. “I have come to tell ye the tale of these ornaments, and of their significance to the family.”

“I think I understand some of it, My Lady. Some of the ornaments are for decorating the ceiling, to represent the Sun’s rebirth in the night sky on the Solstice. But what are the clouds for?”

“Ah those,” Ramona laughed. “I thought they would make the representation a little more realistic, but they did not. Alistarr used to tease me about them while I was making them, saying he would rather use them for something more carnal. They are very comfortable,” she laughed harder.

“He sounds like My Lord Drake,” Deborah chuckled with her.

“Such a thing would not be mere coincidence, Drake is very much like Alistarr in many, many ways. He even resembles Alistarr more closely than any other Natanleod heir to date, and he has the same charming manners.”

“My Lord Drake is certainly charming,” Deborah observed.

“Ye are having difficulty overcoming yer need to use his title over and over,” Ramona pointed out. “He is yer father-in-law, ye could just call him Father.”

“I have tried, My Lady,” Deborah sighed. “The word is just difficult to get out of my mouth.”

“It will happen, when you relax a bit, and remember ye are family now,” Ramona laughed a bit. “Ye are right to think that the sun and moon ornaments are for the ceiling, have ye seen the rest of the decorations as of yet?”

“The rest? There are more?” Deborah asked.

Ramona smiled broadly, proudly and waved her hand. Deborah’s jaw dropped a bit more to see a hidden cabinet appear, and Ramona beckoned her closer. When the shade opened the doors for her, Deborah could see a myriad of small figures. There were also eleven boats, with animal representations, model boxes and crates; Deborah turned to Ramona, her face filled with questions.

“These all represent The Crossing,” she stated.

“Aye, so they do,” Ramona smiled, beginning to hand her some of the figures. “There were thirteen ships, but Alistarr left two at the dock so as to accommodate an entire ship filled with books. Raad’s ancestor boarded at the last moment, we had no time to examine him. He was infected by the Nagas when we left the dock, as well as all of the people in the ships we left behind. I am sorry ye should learn the truth this way, but ye should know all,” she continued. As she did, Deborah could “see” the tale, as if it was imprinted on the object. She realized there was a powerful magick at work, but decided not to say a word until Ramona’s tale was told. She found herself already imagining telling it, and she could see why they had been so enchanted, so the tale would continue to be told correctly. Startled by that knowledge, Deborah turned her attention back to Ramona, and the tale she was telling. “We did not learn of his possession ‘till we made The Landing and the people had dispersed to establish the twelve districts that still exist today. Of course, when he learned the truth Alistarr wanted to find and wipe them all from the face of the Land, he tried his best, but they seemed to be one step ahead of him at every turn.

‘Twas at our first Yule celebration that the infected one tried to kill Alistarr, but the Goddess intervened, warning him of the impending assassination attempt so that he was ready for it. He managed to capture the potential assassin, and it took five days for him to extract the information from the wretch. The screams were nearly intolerable for me, now ye know how our clan began to be famous for the arts of the workroom. I was with child at the time, although Alistarr did not know. We lost that child early in the term, I am still convinced ‘twas caused by the pain I felt at hearing his suffering. I think ‘tis why he caused the first family house to be built the way ‘twas, with such a secure holding area and such thick walls. I can see that Julius repeated that same caution with this house,” Ramona went on while they pulled all the cleverly carved wooden figures from the cabinet, and Ramona put a large green box in front of her. “This set of figures was given to me for the second Yule

celebrated, I think ye will like this set more than the others. It represents a forest at Yule, with a Green Man figure and all of the animals we have here in the Land. I think that the original cotton is in here, sprinkled with silver dust to represent snow.

‘Twas made by the man who first established the Forestlands district, Aldridge’s ancestor Taliesin, a Druid of mighty abilities.

He was also a very clever woodworker. Look at the figures, each one is perfectly rendered.”

“They are extraordinary,” Deborah remarked as she carefully handled the carved figures. “My goodness, they even have the proper hides for each animal!”

“They are very realistic, aren’t they?” Ramona laughed. “I suggest ye create the starry night, with the promise of the dawn in the feast hall, and use all the mantelpieces as places to set up small scenes. This one, I would feature on the main hearth. I think the feast hall of this house is quite lovely, despite how big ‘tis. I have always preferred a more intimate setting.”

“I shall take yer advice, My Lady,” Deborah smiled. “However, I think the clouds can remain in storage for now. We want our starry night to have no obstructions, so that we might see the sun’s rise more clearly.”

“I like the way ye think, daughter of the house,” Ramona smiled. “I too, prefer a simpler setting, ‘twas Alistarr who always wanted to make the grand scene.”

“If Drake is anything like Alistarr, I can certainly picture that,” Deborah smiled wide. “Thank ye for visiting with me, My Lady. I shall cherish our talk.”

“Ye can expect more like this, now that ye have allied yerself with us,” Ramona told her. “We will always be here to help ye, should ye find yerself in a dilemma. A blessed Yule to ye, Deborah.”

“A blessed Yule to ye, My Lady Ramona,” Deborah answered respectfully, bowing low while speaking. When she stood, the shade had departed, but Deborah had her decorating scheme all planned out. When the knights came at Hadrian’s bidding to help carry the heavy objects, she knew exactly what to take upstairs, and what to leave in storage. She directed the knights to take the treasures upstairs very carefully, and set them within the huge formal dining hall where the celebration would be held.

Chapter 2 While Drake and Jovita were out in the wildwood, and Deborah spoke with Ramona in the storage area, Hadrian fussed in his office. He felt muchly recovered since Deborah had undertaken his care, and now he wanted to contribute to the quickly approaching celebration. He thought and thought about what he could do, and finally it came to him. He would play the part of the Oak King, the Green Man in Winter, and he would play host to all the children in the house on the night before Yule.

Such a role would allow him to be the giver of many gifts, he thought with a grin, already looking forward to handing them out.

“But, I have no gifts to give!” he said aloud, though he was alone at the time. “I must go shopping at once! We are hosting over twenty children along with their families this year, I cannot just give them all candy and sweets, especially the older ones,” he continued. Finally, he mentally summoned the one person he thought could help him, Millicent, who came running into the room at his urgent thought message.

“What is wrong? Should I summon Deborah?” she asked in a slightly panicked voice. “Yer summons was most urgent.”

“I am sorry Milli,” Hadrian smiled fondly at his cousin. “Ye know how when I decide something ‘tis the most important thing in the world at the moment,” he laughed at his own foible. “I merely wish for ye to go shopping with me this afternoon. I am going to play the Oak King for Yule, and host a party for the children the night before. I shall need gifts to hand out, if I am to be a convincing Oak King.”

“Ye will need the correct costume as well,” Millicent remarked caustically, a bit peeved at him for making her worry. “I think we still might have the family costume here in the house somewhere, I shall locate it and make certain it fits ye. Ye are still so thin, it might not, and ‘twill certainly need to be cleaned. Ye might have said something a few weeks ago, ye know,” she pointed out acidly.

“I have just thought of it,” Hadrian replied in a regal voice. It struck Millicent as very amusing, especially when he composed his face into a stern, slightly snobbish expression. “Now, be off with ye wench. Get dressed to go shopping, I can hardly wait to get out of the house!” he ordered while laughing heartily.

“Hadrian, look,” Millicent smiled and pointed. “The snow is starting, I predict three days of solid near-blizzard conditions, once it gets started properly. I think that tomorrow, the snow will fall fierce and fast.”

“Drake and Jovita left this morning to go in search of the proper tree. That gives us plenty of time to do some fun shopping and perhaps even stop for lunch, what say ye?” Hadrian proposed as Millicent laid out clothing for him.

“We will see what we have time for,” Millicent replied. “And we are taking a carriage with us, ye are not going to walk all over town in near freezing conditions! Deborah would have both our hides!”

“Ye are right about that,” Hadrian grinned a bit, and Millicent read a scoundrel’s expression.

“Ye get dressed, and I shall meet ye at the front door in just a bit. We are taking Tycho, ye are not going unguarded,” she stated emphatically.

“Aye, Madam,” Hadrian replied, beginning to strip with her right in the room. Millicent walked from the room unhurriedly, she had seen it before many times during the course of his illness. As she left the room, she turned to the one-armed member of the House Guard and asked him to accompany the two of them to the market. Tycho was more than willing to do so, for he thought Millicent the fairest woman in the Land.

“Would ye be a good man, and fetch the High Lord’s carriage for him?” she asked with a gentle smile, for she liked him very much. “I think ye should use the black horses, they are a bit stronger.”

“Aye, Madam, not to mention they are so closely matched one would think they were all brothers of the same dam,” he said quietly, his deep bass voice. “I shall return apace Madam, with the requested carriage and team.” Turning to his brother guard, they spoke momentarily before Tycho strode off in one direction, Millicent towards her room to don sturdy boots and warm clothing before venturing out into the gathering storm. Before she left, she turned to her second in charge, Julia, and had a word or two.

“I would almost wager that some of the nobles are on their way here now, in an attempt to catch us off guard and unready to welcome them. I want ye to start some mulled wine, use the traditional spicing as the Lady Deborah’s theme is the traditional one this year. Also, be sure to put up some antipasto trays, and make some soup. They will be cold and irritable if they do

start arriving today. For supper, we have all those turkeys down in the ice room. Let us bring a few of those up to thaw for supper tonight, we will…” she began to rattle off the menu, only to have the younger woman hold up a restraining hand.

“Have I not served in the house for many years, Madam?” she asked in a humorous tone. “I think I can be trusted just this once to prepare a meal in yer absence, aye?”

“Ye are so right,” Millicent laughed at herself. “I am sorry, I am just too used to being in charge,” she continued. “Ye know what to do with turkey, I reckon.”

“Aye, Madam,” Julia answered, her eyes dancing and sparkling due to her suppressed mirth. “Go have some fun! ‘Tis Yule! We will handle the nobles.”

A quick hug for the staffer was Millicent’s answer to her friend and closest assistant as she sped off, meeting Hadrian at the front door.

“Ah, ye’ve worn my favorite shade of red, Milli!” he commented. “Have I ever told ye that ye are a lovely woman?”

“I think ye might have, cousin,” Millicent replied tartly. “We should be on our way, the sooner we leave the faster we are back.”

“Ye are right about that, and I believe the snow is falling faster than before. Drake is going to just despise being out in it, looking for a tree.”

“He is a big boy, and he has Jovita with him. He will be fine,” Millicent stated flatly.

“Ye are right, he can take care of himself,” Hadrian chuckled, offering his arm gallantly. Millicent took it and they loaded into the carriage, pulled by four perfectly matched black horses, all with one white foot on the same side. They had been a present from Lord Inglin when Hadrian ascended to the High Lord’s seat and unfortunately, they had not been used much. Their training was still intact and despite their high spirits the carriage was soon making its way carefully down the long sloped road to the market of the capital city. They pulled into the crowded bustling area, filled with shops and stalls, finding them all fully stocked with gifts appropriate for the season.

The first stall they visited was one filled with bright, sweet candy, all wrapped in beautifully colored waxed papers and twisted at the ends. Hadrian filled a large basket with an assortment of flavors and colors, being certain to sample one or two when he thought Millicent was not looking. After paying the merchant and dropping the parcel at the carriage, they went on to where the Guilds had set up their special shops, just for the holiday. Here Hadrian found more gifts; soft, stuffed toys made to look like animals. He found wooden ships, whistles and spinning tops as he walked through the shop. Paying for his purchases and proceeding, he soon found that many of the shops had many nearly identical items. He purchased a few from each shop, knowing the slight differences would make that item unique to the recipient. At other shops, he found sets of knights and horses, and at one shop there were Amazons and horses, Hadrian purchased several sets of each, actually closing one shop due to the fact he purchased their entire inventory.

“I would like this lot taken to the Mother’s Temple just outside of town,” he instructed as he paid for the purchase. “I shall not have orphaned children and foundlings without a toy for Yule!”

“I shall deliver them personally My Lord, I cannot thank ye enough!” the man said gratefully as he took the bags of gold. “My family will eat well this Yule, for the first time in many years. Goddess bless ye.”

“The times of peace will come, my friend,” Hadrian told him. “Thank ye for remaining in the Land, and practicing yer beautiful art.”

“Thank ye, My Lord!” the man grinned, offering Hadrian a flask, thinking that Millicent was not paying attention.

“If ye two think for a moment I did not see ye sharing that flask, ye are vastly mistaken. However, since ‘tis Yule, I shall not tell the Lady Deborah about yer drinking so early in the day,” she chuckled as they handed her the flask and she sipped a bit from it.

“Thank ye Madam Millicent,” Hadrian said in a somewhat repentant tone as he sipped once more, handed the man another full weight coin of gold and departed his shop. After a few more stops, they were finished, and Millicent urged Hadrian to return to the house, for the snow was piling up rapidly.

“I hope that Drake does not decide to camp out tonight,” Millicent remarked as they loaded their purchases carefully into the carriage. “I think ‘twill be frigid indeed.”

Drake was considering that very thing as he stood in the grove with the huge Mother tree, thinking of the best way to take her down without injuring the young trees all around her. He could only see one way to do it as he turned to Jovita and motioned her back a bit, then a bit more. Taking a deep breath of the fresh, cold air he transformed into his dragon self.

“Come on, get aboard now. Once she is cut, I shall have to grab on and hold. I shall not be able to land again to pick ye up,” he explained within her mind. Jovita nodded her understanding, and Drake dipped a shoulder to make it easier for the Amazon Commander to climb aboard. She quickly settled onto his shoulders, draping her legs over his neck and grasping tightly.

“I am ready,” she said aloud.

The dragon walked to where the tree stood, ready to help it fall. With a single sweep of a mighty claw the tree began to lean a bit. Before it could fall however, Drake was aloft to grasp the top, keeping the tree erect. He heard the grateful farewell of the elemental within the trunk, and he knew that there had been no pain in her passing. With the immense strength of a dragon, he altered his grip a bit so as to grasp the tree closer to its center of gravity, making it easier to balance and carry. Finally, he had it tightly and they disappeared from that place, reappearing just outside the High Lord’s house close to the kitchen entrance. Drake carefully set the heavy tree down in the gathering snow before Jovita climbed off, so he could resume his human form.

“I think we have a fine tree this year,” he smiled, embracing Jovita tightly and dropping a kiss on her lips. “But ‘tis blessed cold out here, and ye know I hate the cold. I think I might need a hot bath, and some whiskey to warm up with. How about ye?”

“I think that sounds very fine, My Lord,” Jovita answered demurely. He picked her up so as to hold her more tightly against him, feeling the bite of the wind as it began to increase in strength. It felt like blizzard conditions, he thought as he carried her through the door into the warm, busy kitchen.

“My goodness, it certainly is much warmer in here!” he laughed, announcing his presence by doing so. He and Jovita were handed cups of mulled wine, done with the traditional spicing and Drake saluted the Goddess before drinking deeply, enjoying the taste. “Now that tastes like a holiday drink!” he remarked. “I thank ye for the cup, but I need a hot bath. ‘Tis blessed cold out there!”

“Whatever were ye doing out in it?” Rosilind asked with a laugh.

“Why, fetching the High Lord his Yule tree!” Drake laughed aloud. “We cannot have a festive Yule without the tree!”

Rosilind could only smile, shrug and refill the War Duke’s cup again as his great laugh rang through the room, lightening people’s hearts and moods. Just in time too, for one of the staff came running into the kitchen breathlessly.

“The nobles are starting to arrive!” she panted. “They are unloading at the door right now!”

“Good then!” Hadrian’s voice came into the conversation. “Let us bid them all welcome in peace, ‘tis Yule, we cannot afford to be inhospitable.”

“Even to those who stand against ye?” Erinn’s voice now was added to the conversation.

“We have no enemies at Yule, young Knight Commander,” Hadrian answered, somewhat sternly.

“Very well, My Lord,” Erinn replied with a smile. “Let us bid them welcome, but keep a close eye upon them while they are here. My Lady Deborah will have to count the teaspoons nightly, I am certain of it,” he laughed. They all laughed a bit at that, while Jovita and Drake left them to take their warming bath, cutting it much shorter than they wished to. Drake quickly dressed in the more formal wear he disliked so much, taking a turn before the mirror to assess the effect, he could not help smiling a bit. He looked very regal, he laughed to himself. Who would have thought that mere clothing could make such a difference, he thought with a grin. He had no idea he always looked regal, no matter what he wore.

Evaporating from the room, they appeared at the back of the feast hall, walking forward out of the shadows to join the rapidly growing group in the feast hall.

The fires burnt brightly in each hearth in the room, four in all, with the great main hearth dominating the room. Dressed in black granite, the mantelpiece stretched across the top of the massive fireplace, extending a good way on each side. Deborah had taken some of the house linens designed for the task and draped the mantelpiece first, constructing her scene atop the soft cloth so as to protect the polished surface of the granite. First, she had gathered and dried mosses to use as the forest base, snuggling the decorations that looked like trees and bushes in amongst the thick base so as to hold them in place well. Over that was laid sheets of cotton batting, and lumps of cotton balls set here at there to represent drifts of snow. Then, she had scattered finely powdered silver shavings, gathered for weeks from the Guild shops that crafted gold and silver objects in the city all over it, so that it would sparkle like the snow did, and the effect was quite remarkable in its reproduction of the diamond effect of light on snow. Once all of that had been accomplished, Deborah had locked the room and worked alone all day, not allowing anyone to see it until she had finished decorating each mantle. When she had emerged late that night, she had practically collapsed into Erinn’s arms due to exhaustion, but the room had been decorated exactly according to her vision. Now, everyone could see what her labor had accomplished, and they marveled over it.

The hearths blazed brightly, stoked with fragrant woods, giant holly garlands wound around the room interspersed with evergreen branches and mistletoe. The Yule Tree was just being put into place by strong knights, aided by a bit of subtle magick via Hadrian. Deborah opened the trunks of wooden and glass decorations and invited the early guests to help her decorate, reminding them she was hosting a traditional celebration. As the nobles began that task, Deborah walked the room with a few of the noble women who had come early, and discussed her ideas with the mantelpieces with them. When they got to the main hearth, the women just stood and stared for the longest time, while Deborah explained the setting, adding that there would be a large wreath above it by the morrow. She finished her recitation, turned to the others to continue their conversation, only to see them still staring at the forest scene in wonder.

“Ye can almost see them move,” one of them remarked. Her name was Lilly, her sister was Amelia, and together they were two of the most discordant women Deborah had ever met. They would disagree about anything, and everything it seemed.

“I could swear I did,” Amelia added, her voice filled with awe. “My Lady Deborah, ye have done a marvel!”

“Thank ye, Lady Amelia,” Deborah said quietly, not wishing to break the moment for them. After all, Lilly and Amelia were not fighting even though they stood very closely together. Deborah prayed the moment would last, for the sake of everyone in the room.

“Ye have achieved a marvel!” Lilly added. “The feast hall is filled with light, but ye have done it so subtly, so that it enhances the room. My Lady Deborah, I shall enjoy this Yule very much, I think.”

“As shall I,” Amelia put in. “Could we see our rooms now?”

“Of course,” Deborah smiled genially. She could feel Hadrian’s eyes on her, and when she turned to leave the room with the two discordant women, she saw him looking at her from the corner. He saluted her with his wine cup as she escorted Lilly and Amelia from the room, picking up their husbands in the process. The men said very little as they walked down the hall to the rooms Deborah had chosen for them, across the hall, rather than side by side. She opened the doors and gestured each couple inside in turn, explaining the amenities.

“Thank ye, My Lady Deborah,” Amelia said graciously. “This room will do quite nicely, ‘tis quiet and private. I like that.”

“Our room is very nice too, very cozy and warm,” Lilly added. “We thank ye for its use while we are here.”

“A very Merry Yule to all of ye,” Deborah said in parting, turning and walking down the hall to return to her guests. As soon as she turned the corner to descend the stairway, she could hear the first sounds of discordant conversation, and sighed, glad to be away from it. Erinn met her at the door to the party hall with a cup of wine and a kiss on the cheek.

“Ye can hear them in the kitchen,” he remarked quietly. “I shall have to have a word with their husbands about it. I shall not have them spoiling the holiday for everyone.”

“If it continues on the morrow, husband, by all means speak to them,” Deborah agreed. “However, I believe ye will see in the morning they have amended their attitudes.” Erinn’s expression changed to suspicion, and he swirled the contents of his cup meaningfully while his eyes met hers. “I have done naught, except to make them welcome, and wish the peace of the season to be with them,” she continued reassuringly.

“I am sorry wife, but ye are a healer, and have many tinctures at yer disposal,” he laughed a bit. “If I had such knowledge, I could be persuaded to slip something to each of them, just to keep from hearing their fighting.”

She laughed with him, the thought was a bit funny after all. Deborah would never use her knowledge for such a purpose, except in the Goddess’ cause. The two of them rejoined the gathering, while the snowflakes grew a bit larger, and began to fall more rapidly.

Supper was set out on a long service line that night, Deborah having decided to use the less formal method for her celebration. It was still traditional, but so much less work. She had found the proper warming pans in the storage area, along with everything else she needed for the Yule celebration. Noting that the warming pans had been used rarely she asked everyone to use due care and caution to avoid denting or scratching them. When everyone was served, Hadrian stood to give the blessing, then invited everyone to eat. It did not take long for the food to disappear, and as soon as plates began to empty, some of the older noble women stood and began to clear them, taking them to the kitchen. Deborah smiled at this offer of help, and pitched in as well. Soon the feast hall was cleared of the food, dishes and linens, the tables pushed back into place and everyone said their good nights, being very tired from traveling in the snow. Deborah and Erinn retired gratefully, knowing that upon the morrow, more of the contentious nobles would arrive and the celebration would truly be on.

When Drake and Jovita retired much later, she went right to bed, while he sat up with a final cup of wine, thinking. He suddenly recalled that he had not left an offering for the elementals of the grove from where the tree had come. He felt the urge to rectify the situation, and quickly, he gathered a few items to leave for them in the grove; small silver coins, a few sweets, a small pouch of the Mother’s Herb and some sticks of incense he preferred to use for his personal devotions. Wrapping up in the bearskin cloak Erinn had replaced, Drake evaporated from his room, reappearing in the center of the grove of young firs left behind after the Mother Tree’s demise. He brushed aside the dry, powdery snow with a gloved hand, and erected a quick altar from the stones he found. He had just lit the incense when he felt a presence, drawing a blade quickly, he stood on guard and called out.

“Who is there? Show yerself! I am Drake Natanleod, the War Duke of the Land!”

Silence reigned for a long moment or two and then from the depths of the trees stepped a very familiar personage, someone Drake knew quite well.

“Green Father,” he greeted respectfully, replacing his weapon in the back scabbard and kneeling in the snow. “I give greetings to the Oak King as Yule approaches.”

“Brother Drake,” the God greeted with a smile. “Come, come, ye needn’t kneel in the snow. I know ye dislike the cold, and I know why ye do.

Let us have a fire and some warmth, ‘tis frigid out here.”

With a quick gesture a fire appeared from nowhere, two chairs appeared as well, and Drake noted the snow did not appear to even touch them as they sat there. The Oak King gestured Drake to him, waving him into the opposite chair and producing a bottle and two cups.

Pouring for both of them, the God lifted his cup with a merry twinkle in his eye and pronounced a blessing.

“A very Merry Yule to ye, Drake Natanleod. May ye and yer house be blessed.”

“Thank ye, Green Father,” Drake answered gratefully. “Ye know I serve the Lady and the Land as ye do. How may I be of service?”

“Ye have already done that for me, brother,” the God answered with a smile. “Ye have taken one of the sick elders, and given her ending purpose. She has passed from the tree, and will wait now for a new grove to sponsor, if she wishes.”

“What happens to the elementals, Green Father?” Drake asked, sipping from the cup and tasting eau de vie, the luscious cordial everyone in the Land cherished. “I mean when they pass?”

“Many of them continue being elementals, Drake,” the Elder replied. “However, occasionally, one or two of them approach the time of choice and elevation, such as ye are working towards even now.”

“What are ye saying, Green Father?”

“Only that ye are very accomplished, Drake, and that ye are very, very special. Ye will come to learn soon just how accomplished ye are, and ye will also realize yer destiny, to rule.”

“I do not wish to rule while Hadrian lives,” Drake replied.

“Ye would not need to rule while he does,” the Oak King answered seriously.

“Then he will die, no matter what Deborah is doing for him?”

“Everyone dies, Drake, excepting those whom the Lady grants the gift of Ascension.”

Drake sipped his cordial, his mind racing. “Are ye suggesting I might be one of those?”

“I am not suggesting anything, Drake,” the God answered with a smile. “Other than ye think carefully before ye do or say anything from now on.”

“Ye are being very obtuse, My Lord,” Drake huffed a bit.

“Ye are a very intelligent man, ye will reckon it out, in time,” the Oak King laughed. “Now, I do have one thing more I would have of ye during the holiday. Keep yer eyes open, an opportunity to elevate someone from yer command will arise during the holiday. Ye will need to test this person yerself, but ‘twill not be obvious at first. Once ye test them, ye will see their value to ye.”

“To me personally? A personal retainer?” Drake asked.

“Ye will know. O, and keep yer eyes and ears open when yer guests are about ye. Ye know that when people drink, they tend to talk more openly.”

“Aye, I know it well,” Drake chuckled.

“Well then, I’ve said what I came to, or what I was sent to. I shall let ye reason that out as well. A Merry Yule to ye and yers.”

Drake stood and they shared the grip of warriors, the fire and chairs disappeared, returning the glade to its state of deep chill. Nothing remained to suggest anyone had been there excepting Drake the entire time, he noted when he looked about. Even the altar he had erected just prior to the God’s arrival was clear of snow, and with a start, Drake realized with a slight start that time had either slowed significantly or stopped altogether while he was in the presence of the God. The incense was exactly as he had left it, even though in Drake’s mind, enough time had passed for it to be gone. He smiled, finished laying out his offerings for the little ones, then stood and thought about being grateful for their help for a few moments. At length, he walked away a few steps and disappeared, returning to his room and the warm bed within.

Back at the grove, the gifts he left behind were found by those they were intended for, and the incense used as a place to warm themselves for a bit while it burnt. As dawn approached, the small beings walked about the grove of young trees, touching each one in passing as they left with full bellies and smiles. The trees began to grow subtly, continuing through the winter, and when Spring arrived, they were the first ones to put out their new green tips, due to the blessing they had received. For the moment, the wildwood grew quiet, as if anticipating the coming Equinox.

Chapter 3 The next two days were filled with a bit of controlled, and uncontrolled chaos. Some of the nobles did not like the rooms they were assigned once they were shown to them. In those cases, Deborah merely offered to check with the local inns to see if any rooms remained in the capital.

“And if such is not to yer approval, My Lord and Lady, ye are certainly welcome to pack your things and return home to celebrate the way ye wish to,” Deborah told them with a smile. Most of them felt as if they had been slapped with the proverbial iron fist in the velvet glove as they replied, somewhat meekly; “I am sure the room will be quite adequate, My Lady Natanleod. I am sorry for my outburst, I must be tired from the long trip.”

“I am certain ye must be so very tired,” Deborah would smile and reply, showing them the gifts in the room and reciting the schedule for the next few hours. “The baths are ready for ye to use, and the masseuses are ready as well. Please, relax and enjoy yerselves. Welcome to our home.”

“Thank ye, My Lady Natanleod,” the last one finally said as she left the room, closing the door softly behind her. She went from there directly to her room and once she was within, she let loose with the frustration she was feeling at their snobby words and rudeness.

“Ooooooooo!!!!!!!!!” she vented once she was out on the balcony and that door shut behind her too. “I could just slap them!”

“Ye could at that, my wife,” she heard Erinn’s voice reply from the corner of the small overlook.

“Erinn! What are ye doing out here?” she gasped with surprise.

“I am seeking refuge from the nobles as well, my dear,” he laughed a bit. “I did not mean to startle ye. Would ye like to share some wine? I have some mulled going over the hearth. I plan to hide up here for a few hours, so I can actually get some work done.”

Deborah laughed heartily. “I understand the feeling. I would like a cup of wine, husband. I know ‘tis early, but I am already feeling strained.

However, the nobles are finally in their rooms. I would imagine the kitchen is being driven crazy right now with service calls.”

“I am certain Millicent can handle those just fine,” Erinn smiled, holding out the cup for her. They sat and shared that cup, as well as a pipe of fragrant weed before Deborah returned downstairs, finding all as she had left it. First meal was just finishing service, while second meal was nearly ready to serve, and Deborah smiled to see how well everyone worked together despite the many interruptions. She tasted what had been prepared for the noon meal and pronounced it delicious, which it was, then sat with Millicent to finish planning out the supper for that night.

“I think we should roast beef,” Deborah sighed. “It would be easier, and Drake would help with the preparation, if we asked him to. I think he would like that, actually.”

“He has been just itching to get into the kitchen of late,” Millicent laughed.

“Who has been itching to get into the kitchen?” they heard Drake’s voice boom over the noise. “I know I have for certain!”

Deborah winked at Millicent with a grin as she answered. “If ye are eager to get into the kitchen, My Lord, I am certain we could arrange it for ye. How do ye feel about spit roasting some beef? We can set up one of the minor hearths in the feast room, which is why the big display is on the main hearth. We can easily move one of the others,” she smiled reassuringly.

“As always my dear, ye have put yer heart into planning this holiday. Ye have ensured that everyone has fun, by building flexibility into yer celebration plans. I knew I was right about ye, ye are an excellent addition to our family,” he said with a smile. “Now, show me to that beef!”

“It just so happens, My Lord, that we have an entire steer available,” Deborah told him. “The spice racks are ready, and I have set out yer favorite black granite mortar and pestle. Ye will find the apron ye like there too, and when ye are ready for it, tell me what ye are thirsty for so I might help ease yer thirst.”

“Which will be considerable by the time I finish working on the steer,” Drake chuckled, embracing her fondly and planting a fatherly kiss on her cheek. After releasing her, he walked to the station in front of the huge spice wall and began to choose his spices, starting with black peppercorns, salt, dried garlic cloves and dried chilies. Measuring them out by the handful, one at a time and grinding in-between additions, he dumped the first batch into a bowl and went on with the dried herb portion of the rub, choosing thyme, oregano, rosemary and a little sage because he liked the depth of flavor it provided, again adding and grinding between additions. Finally, he had what he thought would be a sufficient portion of the rub prepared, and he went out into the kitchen to find the steer now out of the cold room where it had been aging for fourteen days. He smiled, knowing the aging was of a good length as he took up his trimming knives and went to work all over the carcass, trimming off silverskin and discolored pieces that might add an off taste to the flesh he was about to cook. Finally, he was ready to start applying the rub, and with the help of his magickal abilities, he did so evenly and completely all over every piece of exposed flesh. While he was doing that, Deborah had prepared a broth from dried beef, onion and garlic powder and some of the same herbs Drake was using in his rub. She added a good portion of red wine to the pan and put it to simmer, producing a nice basting liquid for the beef while it roasted. Once the steer was completely covered with the rub and it had been well-massaged into the flesh, it was returned to the cold room to marinate, and await the cooking process.

All that morning, the house was filled with noisy children, the talk of adults, and the sound of the staff busily working. Hadrian was in the office, trying on the family costume for the Oak King, finding he was too thin to carry it off.

“Milli, just look at this!” he complained as the clothing just hung from his lean frame. “I cannot go out there looking like a starving Oak King!

What can we do?”

“I am certain that between Deborah and myself, we can fix this before tomorrow, Hadrian,” Millicent giggled, unable to help herself. He looked a little ridiculous in the overly big clothing, but when she recalled why it did not fit correctly, she sobered. “‘Twould have fit ye ten years ago,” she said sadly.

“Please fix it so that it does,” Hadrian comforted. “We really have nothing else we can do, Milli. What has been done, is done. Naught can undo it now, so we must move forward, aye?”

“Aye, Hadrian,” she replied, gathering up the folds of clothing and folding them carefully, leaving them in Hadrian’s office for the moment.

The sewing would have to be done there, since the old sewing room had not yet been reopened. Millicent made a mental note to speak to Deborah about opening it again, such a place was a good one to learn things usually kept hidden from general conversations. She was startled to see Julia Natanleod’s shade appear, and approach her.

“Millicent.”

“My Lady Julia,” Millicent acknowledged. “How may I serve?”

“Ye have served well enough without instruction or request,” Julia answered. “What is amiss with the costume?”

“Naught is amiss with it, ‘tis Hadrian’s proportions that are wrong,” Millicent laughed a little. “He has lost so much weight due to the poisoning, the clothing just hangs from him. It makes him look almost skeletal.”

“Such things are easily mended. Leave the costume, I shall tend to it,” Julia ordered.

“Aye Madam,” Millicent agreed easily, knowing that the Natanleod family was more unusual than most. “I must return to my duties, My Lady.”

“Of course, ye must tend to the living,” Julia smiled warmly. Once Millicent was gone, Julia took up the costume and disappeared from the room. She meant to fix it in her own way, and in a place more suitable for magickal work. When she was finished with it she thought, whoever wore it would take on the glamour of the Oak King, and she kept that thought in mind throughout the night as she worked on the clothing. In the morning, it was back where Millicent had left it, and Deborah found it when she went to open the office for what work needed doing. It looked brand new, she thought as she held up the jacket, and felt the magick within the cloth. She wondered who had been working on it, and the thought of Julia Natanleod intuitively came to mind. Millicent came in just then with the first carafe of caffe, and she came right to where Deborah stood, holding the jacket of the costume.

“She finished it all in one night!” the Kitchen Mistress proclaimed with a grin. “Julia came as a shade last night and took this with her, I see ‘tis back this morning and looking better for its time with her. Now it should fit Hadrian properly!”

“What should fit Hadrian just right?” the man’s voice entered into the conversation.

“Yer costume as the Oak King. Come and try it on, I want to see how it fits!” Millicent urged.

“May I have caffe first?” he asked in a wheedling tone. Millicent laughed and poured caffe for him, letting him amend it as he liked before handing him the bundle of fur and cloth and pointing to his changing screen. He took the costume and walked obediently behind the screen, quickly donning the outfit and noting it fit much better now than before. He was not prepared for the reaction of the two women in the office however, for when he did step from behind the screen they both gasped in amazement.

“Hadrian, ye look just like the Oak King!”

“Of course I do, silly, I’m wearing the costume!”

“Nay, look at yerself in the mirror, cousin. Ye will understand my words better if ye do.”

Hadrian strode to the necessity and stared in shock, his visage did greatly resemble the traditional picturing of the Oak King in the Land.

Emerging from the small room, he came to Millicent first.

“So, I truly look like the Oak King to ye?” he asked with a chuckle.

“Ye do,” Millicent confirmed.

“And what say ye, daughter of the house?” he asked Deborah.

“I would say that the Lady Julia has put a glamour on the costume so that anyone who dons it will resemble the Oak King,” the young woman speculated. “A powerful glamour indeed.”

“Indeed so,” Hadrian remarked, retreating to remove the costume. “Tonight’s sleep over party will be a fun event, if I can find someone to accompany me.

“Ye are the High Lord!” Deborah pointed out with a grin. “Ye are a handsome man, are ye not? A well-propertied man, are ye not? All ye would need to do is ask.”

“I should get to that then,” Hadrian declared. “I must find someone before supper!”

Millicent laughed aloud and left the room, leaving Deborah with Hadrian. “Would ye like me to call for one of Antonina’s ladies?” she asked him quietly.

“I was hoping ye would,” Hadrian smiled. “I truly have no idea who else I could ask on such short notice.”

“I shall contact her at once then,” Deborah smiled. “We will find a nice, genteel lady to sit beside ye while ye host the children’s party. Ye know most of them will fall asleep early, the older ones soon after. We should call for some Ladies of the Temple to come and stay with them all night, wouldn’t ye agree?”

Deborah laughed a bit, feeling for him as if he truly were her uncle, before she left the office to attend to the matter. It was fortunate that Antonina had some magickal skills, so that Deborah could contact her mentally.

“Sister Antonina, do ye have a moment?” she sent out once she was alone.

“Always for ye, My Lady Deborah. What service may I render?”

“My Lord Hadrian needs a nice, genteel lady to sit beside him as he plays the Oak King, the giver of gifts, for the noble’s children tonight. She should come appropriately attired for the holiday as well.”

“I have the perfect person to send,” Antonina answered. “And I have the perfect costume, a dryad.”

“O, ye are right, ‘tis perfect!” Deborah replied. “Is all well in yer house today?”

“O aye, everyone is having a marvelous time!” Antonina responded happily.

“I am glad,” Deborah told her. “Thank ye again, sister. I owe ye for this one.”

“Not at all, My Lady,” Antonina responded as their connection severed.

While this all transpired, Drake and Erinn were in the barracks arena, having a good sweat to work out the frustrations of dealing with the fractious nobles. While they were so occupied, a young man wandered by. He was new in the squires’ corps, an orphaned lad who had been found by a passing patrol as he wandered starving in the wildwood. Once Erinn had been acquainted with the lad’s story, his heart went out to him, having been found under similar circumstances. The young man was still learning his duties, but learning quickly. He happened to glance into the arena and he stopped in his progress, stunned by how fast the two men worked together with real weaponry. His name was Arthfael, and he was very strong for a lad his age. He wanted to be a knight in the Army very much, so that he could stop bad things from happening to good people. He was clumsy however, having just gone through a growth spurt; his hands and feet resembled a puppy’s, just a little bit too big at the moment. The poor lad was always falling, tripping or running into something, but he worked so hard, Erinn could not find it within him to dismiss him. The young man stood there lost in his observations of the War Duke and the Knight Commander, so much so he did not notice Captain Ulric’s approach.

“Arthfael!” he rapped out, for the lad also was known for being easily diverted from his tasks at times. “What are ye doing, lounging about down here? Ye are needed in the barracks kitchen, at once!”

“What? O! I am sorry!” Arthfael started to attention and apologized. Ulric was about to continue with the reprimand, until he saw what it was that had so distracted the young man.

“I see,” Ulric grinned. “They are good, aren’t they?”

“Aye,” he heard the lad’s entranced response. It was not unusual for Ulric to hear such things about both men, they were quite accomplished, after all. “Ye think I might ever be close to that?”

“I am,” Ulric responded honestly. “But it has taken much work, and the War Duke’s personal tutelage to do so. Ye would be wise to remain in the Army boyo, ye might just get yer chance to cross swords with either of them someday. I have heard yer service is honest, if clumsy at times Arthfael, as yer body matures and ye grow into yer hands and feet a bit, ye will find yerself gaining grace. Keep at the sword work, the War Duke has been known to call someone into the ring without warning from time to time. If ye need assistance, ye have only to ask. I shall make the time as I can, and I know others will too, if ye are truly earnest.”

“Th…Thank ye Sir!” Arthfael stuttered a bit. “I shall be off to my duties now, although I could stand and watch for hours.”

“Good lad then, off with ye!” Ulric ordered gently, accepting the lad’s salute as he departed, nearly running to keep up with his now slightly behind schedule of duties. Ulric reckoned it was a good thing and dismissed the thought of another demerit for the boy. When he looked up again, Drake and Erinn were done working, and he brought them each a towel, as well as a cup of cool water.

“Ah, that tastes sweet!” Drake declared after drinking his dry, draping the towel around his neck. “I think I need to bathe and don fresh clothing, then we should go and fetch our plates, my son. I heard yer lady was making griddlecakes this morning.”

“How will she manage to do so, on a self-service line?” Erinn wondered aloud.

“Yer lady is one of the most practical women I have ever met,” Drake told him seriously. “If anyone could reckon it out, ‘twould be she. I would not wish to be late, especially when she is serving griddlecakes. After the meal, I think we should go hunting. Fresh game is traditional for Winter Solstice.”

Erinn chuckled as they put away their practice blades and left the arena, headed for the baths. Once they were finished and upstairs, the smell of fresh caffe, smoked pork belly, sausage and griddlecakes wafted into their noses, and they quickly found their way to the feast hall.

There was Deborah, serving freshly fried cakes as quickly as the line of staff could bring them from the kitchen. The sound of pleasant conversation filled the festive room, as well as the scent of frankincense and myrrh. Not a discordant note could be heard, even from Amelia and Lilly’s table, an unusual occurrence for certain. The two men took their place in line after receiving their mugs of caffe, and sipped as they advanced to picking up their plates and then finally to receiving their first meal.

“Good morning my wife,” Erinn said quietly. “Ye look fine this morning.”

“Thank ye, my lord,” she answered just as quietly, adding an extra sausage to his plate with a grin.

“I think ye look fine as well!” Drake put in, winking outrageously, hoping to earn an extra sausage too. With a grin, she put two more on his plate before gesturing for them to move on so she could serve the next person. Drake and Erinn found a table to sit at, put their plates and cups down to offer a quick thanks for the meal, then dug in with real appetite. As soon as the first meal was finished, Drake and Erinn went with the rest of the men for a last minute hunting trip, while the women and staff remained at the house, preparing for the next day’s Yule feast. Already puddings and desserts were waiting down in the cold room, having been baked overnight by the efficient night crew of the house, the barley salad sat marinating in bowls as well, the root vegetables had been washed peeled and pared as well as all of the broccolo, artichokes, green beans and other vegetables. The greens from every window box in the house had been carefully harvested, cleaned and dried, ready to be gently torn and made up into salads with pickled and preserved vegetables of all kinds. Pitchers of vinaigrette stood ready as well, along with all of the sweets and treats usually served at such a feast. Deborah continued with the beef’s preparation, reckoning it was better to be prepared than not. If it was not needed, it would continue to cook anyway so as to provide meat pies the next day.

As the hunting party assembled, Drake took Ulric aside, asking about the young man who had been watching the exercise between him and Erinn earlier that day. Ulric told him everything, including the young man’s earnest desire to serve.

“He is a bit like a gangly puppy right now, My Lord,” Ulric finished his description of the young man. “I think with time and training, however, he will grow into a fine swordsman, if we can properly encourage him.”

“Bring him along on our hunting trip,” Drake decided mercurially, recalling the words of the Oak King during their brief conversation. “We will need strong backs to carry back our game, if we find any.”

Ulric laughed aloud, knowing that if anyone could find game in such weather, it would be Drake. It did not take long before they were out in it, wrapped in warm coats and cloaks, wearing fur-lined boots and wearing thick gloves that left the fingertips free for archery purposes.

Drake soon found the tracks of deer, but from the spread of the weight, he could tell the deer were gravid, and he turned away from them.

Next, they found bear tracks and followed them all the way to the bear’s den, finding it sound asleep after a meal of frozen berries. Next, Drake spied the tracks of an elk, and now his mouth began to truly water. He loved the lean, tender meat of elk, and he was determined to bring one back for the table. He followed them carefully, cautiously, the others following him as he did so. Arthfael was fascinated by the hunt, he had never been on one before, and he watched carefully, trying to learn what he could by doing so.

As they all trailed the elk, Erinn’s senses began to tingle in a strange way. He found his eyes on Arthfael, and wondered why it kept happening. Usually when he felt this way, there was a threat about. He called this feeling a warning bell privately, and now he was on alert, waiting for the threat to manifest. The group continued to trail the elk, finally finding it standing in a grove of leafless oak trees. It was bleeding, the head hung down as if it was in great pain and Drake stepped forward with his hunting knife, seeking to communicate mentally

with the wounded beast.

“Brother Elk, ye are in pain,” he said respectfully. “I can offer a quick passing, and the meat will not be wasted.”

“I have been in pain for several days. My herd was attacked by crazy wolves who were only interested in blood, not in meat. I tried to lead them off, hoping that the rest would escape,” he heard the bull’s response. “I hope they have, many of my wives were gravid.”

“I am certain yer sacrifice has assured their lives, my friend,” Drake replied comfortingly, coming closer. The wounds were deep, down to the bone, and he could see it was too late for anything to be done.

“I would like to pass quickly then, the pain is quite intense,” the bull elk answered, turning to accept Drake’s touch. The War Duke spent a long time comforting the animal, stroking and scratching here and there until finally, the elk was relaxed enough. With a quick stroke, Drake cut the elk’s throat and helped him to lie down in the snow, talking to him quietly while he passed, which was not a long time. After thanking the elk for his life and sacrifice, Drake slit the belly and spilled the innards, leaving them as an offering for the scavengers. The hooves were tied together and a long branch found to slip through them, providing a carry pole to rest on their shoulders while they returned to the house. All the while, Erinn kept watch on Arthfael, for the feeling that something was not quite right kept nagging at him.

They returned to the house with their prize, quickly skinning it and cleaning it downstairs in the barracks kitchen.

When Deborah saw the size of the carcass, she knew she had plenty now for the nobles’ feast. It was a simple matter for Deborah to call for some of the knights to come and fetch the beef prepared earlier, it was well on the way to being ready for their suppers. Drake quickly trimmed out, seasoned and spitted the elk, then with Erinn’s help they set it in one of the smaller hearths in the feast hall, where several of the noblemen offered at once to help turn and baste it. Drake lingered with them a bit, just to assure they had not forgotten the fine art of caring for roasting meat before leaving them to it. He wanted to return to his room, change into more comfortable clothing and return for a cup of ale or two after walking in the cold for several hours. Once through the door, he stripped, sponged off and donned the thick warm clothing made by Deborah’s industry, donning on a pair of house slippers over his hose. He stepped outside his room to find Arthfael there, a strange expression on the young man’s face. Drake’s heart began to beat rapidly, he recognized the expression very well.

“So, ye have found yer way into my house despite my precautions,” he stated sternly. “I suggest ye leave the boy, yer fight is with me,” he continued, addressing the Naga he knew was infesting the young man.

“How do ye propose to force such a thing upon me?” it asked. “If ye do, the boy will feel great pain, he might die if I am removed suddenly. Surely, ye know all of this.”

“I have removed such as ye before, Naga!” Drake growled deep in his throat. His rage at having a citizen of the Land possessed by his ancient enemy was intense. Arthfael seemed to be such a nice young man, it seemed wrong that he had to suffer such a fate. Hearing footsteps approaching, Drake turned and saw Erinn coming to assist, while his enemy was also distracted, Drake took the opportunity to bind him magickally, keeping the Naga from fleeing. “Now I have ye!” Drake growled. “Ye cannot resist without killing yer host, which would likely kill ye as well. I would wager ye have been inside him a long time, so long he hardly remembers not having a possessor. He will soon find out though, I reckon,” Drake finished with a dark chuckle.

As he prepared to take the possessed boy down to his workroom, the party was just getting started upstairs. The children were assembling in one of the smaller feast halls in the house, pallets of mattresses were being laid out along with extra blankets and quilts, and the last of the edible decorations being installed. The hearth was lit and nearly glowing with heat, while outside the windows could be seen the blizzard conditions. Deborah was overseeing all of this when word came to her of Lord Erasmus’ arrival, with his lady Cleo, and she put everything aside to welcome such an important ally.

“Welcome to our home,” she greeted the snow-covered couple.

“It took us two days t’ travel wha’ should ha’ been a single day’s trip!” Erasmus blustered a bit, while Cleo silently accepted the warm cup of mulled wine brought for her. “I hope our room hasn’t been given t’ someone else,” he teased a bit.

“Ye should know better than that, My Lord Erasmus!” Deborah replied. “Ye are a very important ally to my family, we have yer room ready and waiting for ye.”

“Perhaps we might have access to the baths as well?” Cleo asked in a shivering tone. “I am almost frozen, but this wine is helping me warm up from the inside.”

“Of course, Lady Cleo,” Deborah smiled warmly, taking them to the cozy room she had saved just for them.

“O my! All this for us?” Cleo asked in amazement as she entered. “Who would have thought an old pirate rat like me would ever merit such a room!”

“Ah, but ye were never really a pirate,” Erasmus corrected. “Ye were always a privateer, working for me. Since I work fer th’ High Lord, ye do too!”

“I am not a captain any more, my lord,” Cleo replied with a grin. “And that suits me grandly. Now, the bath, if I may?”

“Come with me, sister Cleo, we will find ye a place in the baths. My Lord Erasmus, are ye coming along?”

“I think I might at that. This bathing daily is nice!” he laughed, filling his cup again from the pitcher at hand. Deborah could only chuckle at his good mood as she escorted them downstairs and put them into the hands of the attendants of the hot springs. It was only then she felt the same alarm as Erinn had, and sent out her thoughts in search of her husband.

“My lord? What is amiss?”

“We have found a Naga possessor in the barracks, my dear,” Erinn replied harshly, but not because of her question. He was holding his anger in check while dealing with the Naga, for Arthfael’s sake.

“A Naga?” he heard her alarmed response. “Do ye need assistance?”

“I and Father are handling it for the moment, but we may be late to the celebration tonight. We will also be thirsty,” he told her.

“Very well, I shall assure ye both will have plenty to drink afterward. Make sure it dies!”

“O, I shall,” she heard Drake’s response, and a very feral grin crossed her face at that moment, hoping the thing would perish in great pain.

Chapter 4 Drake put Arthfael into the iron-barred cell, so that magick could not be used to free the possessor from its host, then stood back wondering how best to go about separating them. He could use a surgical method, but such things usually brought

about the death of the host. He had used magick before, but with Hadrian and Elanor’s assistance, he had never done it alone. Drake and Erinn watched as the Naga used Arthfael’s body, hurling it against the door in a useless effort to free itself, not caring about how badly the body was being hurt in the process.

“Stop that!” Drake ordered, making a gesture. A rope uncurled itself from the wall, snaked around Arthfael’s body and tied itself securely, completely immobilizing him. The Naga within raged, twisting and turning in an attempt to free itself, but the spell Drake had used to summon the rope contained an additional provision to tighten further if resistance was offered. The ropes grew tighter and tighter, until no movement beyond breathing was possible. Now, Drake had his opportunity to study the problem carefully, using his own extended senses to probe within Arthfael’s body to find the invader. Finally, he located the small Naga, no bigger than his big thumb, resting on the lad’s spine at the top. He pulled one of his flaying knives from its tray, sterilized it with whiskey from his pocket flask and with no spoken warning, he bent and cut the creature loose, since it rested so close to the surface of the skin. Erinn quickly opened the door and laid a gauze packet over the wound, stifling the flow of blood, while Drake dropped the wriggling creature into a clear glass jar with a stopper. “Now ye are truly mine to study, Naga. I have never had the opportunity to dissect one of yer kind before, perhaps I shall find a way to end yer kind once and for all!

Thank ye for providing me with a test subject, ‘tis most appreciated,” he spoke to the worm-like thing in the jar. “Erinn, ye’d best call yer lady.

I think we will need her healer’s skills. Some of those bruises on his arms are quite severe. He will be taken to a room to rest, surely we must have at least one in such a large house.”

“Aye Father, ‘twill be done,” Erinn replied. “What are ye going to do with that?” he asked as Drake took up a flask of whiskey, laying his hand on the stopper of the jar.

“The thing must be preserved. I do not want it rotting before I have a chance to dissect it,” Drake told him, pouring the jar full of the liquor and killing the Naga, of course. Setting it on a shelf and watching it until it stopped wriggling, Drake and Erinn took up Arthfael between them, walking to the barracks infirmary where Erinn called Deborah to come tend the injured young man. It did not take long for the skilled young woman to tend, dress and soothe the young man into a deep sleep, with the help of an herbal tincture which would help suppress the dreams he would likely have due to being possessed by a Naga for so long. The healer Morgana was on duty that night and volunteered to watch over him so he would not wake alone in the dark.

When he was assured of Arthfael’s well-being, Drake finally allowed himself to relax a bit, joining Erinn upstairs for a few cups of wine and some herb. It was a long while before they were able to regain the party spirit of the holiday, but when they both appeared later in the feast hall to join in the fun, both were smiling and joyful once more.

Hadrian’s sleep-in party was going very well, the gifts were being distributed now, and soon he would tell the tale of the Winter Solstice being a time of rebirth. Antonina sat by his side, dressed as a winter dryad, helping to keep him company in the large crowd of young children at the party. He was having a wonderful time, despite the persistent pain he constantly felt since being poisoned with arsenic by Arabella over many months. He reckoned he would never be free of it again as long as he lived, and he sighed to think that might not be very long at all. Still, he felt better than he had for many, many months, and the sight of the beautiful woman beside him brought on the thoughts of a healthy man. As the children ate the simple, tasty meal prepared just for them by the kitchen staff, he leaned over and spoke his mind.

“Ye know, sitting with ye here all night has been somewhat of a pleasant torture,” he began softly.

“How so, My Lord?” she queried with a smile.

“Ye are a very attractive woman, I can see why my brother favors ye so,” Hadrian remarked. “I am a lonely man, Lady Antonina. Would ye consider remaining overnight?” he spoke bluntly.

“Of course, I always enjoy staying overnight in the High Lord’s house,” she answered quietly. “I think ‘twill not be long before most of these children are asleep. They have had a very busy day, and the food they have been served will certainly help lull them into slumber. Have ye made arrangements, so ye could leave if ye wish?”

“I have indeed,” he answered with a grin. “I usually retire early on the eve of Yule, for the next day is such a busy, fun time. I need my beauty sleep, after all,” he chuckled.

She laughed with him, thinking that Hadrian was a very good looking man, if a bit thin. He should find himself a lady, she thought while they talked more, surely he would have no difficulty being such a good looking and intelligent man. Now that the wars were over, perhaps he would have time, she thought as she laughed with him, helping to lighten his mood. They watched as the children settled down while listening to Hadrian tell the tale of Winter Solstice, of how the world would sleep, to wake and be fruitful again at the turn of the Spring. By the time the tale was finished, they were all asleep, and the Temple women took up their duty to watch over them in the night. Hadrian and Antonina went downstairs, finding most of their guests already departing. Hadrian wished them all a good night and pleasant sleep as they left the room, lingering with Drake and Erinn briefly.

“Ye two enjoy yer sleep. The morrow will be a busy day,” Hadrian remarked. “Is it dead?” he added to Drake mentally, being completely aware of what had transpired that day.

“Aye, and pickling in whiskey even as we speak,” Drake replied, his handsome face wearing a look of intense satisfaction while he answered.“Good then, I wish for nothing to mar the festivities!” Hadrian nodded. “I may go to bed now, without worries. Good night Drake and Erinn, I shall see ye both in the morning.”

“Good night, brother,” Drake answered, a little confused until he saw Antonina’s red hair, and the dryad costume she wore. Good, he thought, Hadrian deserves happiness, as Jovita slipped her arm around him. Perhaps I might have the opportunity soon to ask a question I have wanted to ask for many years. Would Jovita agree to take my name if I asked her now, I wonder, he thought privately.

“I am tired Drake, and the morrow will be a long day, as Hadrian noted,” she said.

“I am tired too, love,” he smiled, kissing her quickly. “I shall be along in a short while.”

“I shall warm some wine for us, while I wait,” she said softly, slipping from his embrace. “Good night all.”

A chorus of farewells followed her out, leaving Erinn, Deborah and Drake in the room. “Ye two had best seek yer rest as well,” Drake suggested.

“We will, but I wanted to ask ye something first,” Erinn began. “How is it we could not detect the Naga within Arthfael ‘till now?”

“We were not looking for it, my son,” Drake replied simply. “And as I speculated earlier, this young man has been infected for a long, long time. He was probably exposed unknowingly to one when he was very young, and it has been malingering within him for many years. When a person so young is infected so soon, ‘tis difficult to tell sometimes. However, all one must do is pay attention, their actions and words will give them away eventually.”

“I have felt since the other morning that something was not quite right with him,” Erinn confessed. “I thought I might be over-reacting.”

“Never doubt yer intuition boyo!” Drake advised. “If it does not feel right, ‘tis a sign of something amiss. Now, off with the both of ye. I am going to seek some rest too. Today has been a very busy day.”

In the morning when the house woke, so did Arthfael. He looked about, startled, seeing as he was in the infirmary and he was restrained to the bed. Seeing a healer in the room, he called out, for he needed to get to the necessity. She came at once to his aid, and soon, he was sitting up in bed and getting dressed in clean warm clothing, courtesy of the house stores.

“How are ye feeling?” Morgana asked casually.

“Better than in a long time,” Arthfael answered slowly. “The constant headache I have felt most of my life is gone. What did ye do?”

“Ye were possessed by an immature Naga, young man,” she answered, measuring out a tonic for him to help restore his energies. “I would call ye quite fortunate to have survived the experience. If not for the skills and abilities of the War Duke, ye might not have.”

“I would like to speak with him, if he has the time,” Arthfael requested.

“I wager ye do, but ye must remember ‘tis Yule. The house is full of guests and nobles. It might be better if ye wait a few days to see him, he will have more time for ye,” Morgana advised. “Are ye hungry?”

“Starving!” Arthfael answered with enthusiasm. “I cannot wait to partake of the first meal of Yule!”

“Ye’d best get yerself to the barracks kitchen then, before ‘tis all gone,” Morgana laughed. “I wish ye a very Merry Yule, Arthfael.”

“Merry Yule, Lady Morgana!” he returned, leaving the infirmary and heading straight for the barracks kitchen. He had to pass the arena however on the way, and as he did so, he found Drake and Erinn there again at their morning workout. He tried to stay out of sight while he watched, but after a bit the pair stopped, the Knight Commander left and Drake remained.

“Well, ye might as well come out of the shadows!” Drake called with a grin. “I know yer watching, Arthfael.”

The young man emerged from his corner observation post hesitantly, fearful he had overstepped again. He found a practice sword offered to him instead, and he eagerly took hold of the hilt.

“Show me what ye can do, boyo!” Drake ordered with a grin. He was surprised when Arthfael went on the offensive at once, starting out with a series of feints and slices quite unlike anything Drake had seen before. So, Arthfael was the one, he thought as he defended himself easily despite the unusual style being exhibited by the young man. At length, he stepped away from the exercise with a smile, satisfied with what he had seen.

“Tell me boyo, what are yer ambitions?” he asked.

“I want to join the Army, Sir. I am an orphan, I have no one. I wish to be of service, and repay the Lady for saving my life and bringing me here,” Arthfael answered at once, his heart pounding with both the effort of swordwork, and the anticipation of what the War Duke might say next.

“Ye have talent, for certain,” Drake complimented. “And yer natural style is unlike anything I have seen before. I can help ye with that, but ye will have to remain here at the house for me to do so.”

Arthfael dropped to a knee at once, holding forth the practice blade in his hands. “I swear to ye, Drake Natanleod, that I shall serve the Lady, the Land, and yer house for as long as I live if ye should give me this opportunity. I am yer man, for now and for always.”

Drake smiled. “As long as yer service is to the Lady, ye will always be of service to me, Arthfael. Ye will always have food, a horse, clothing and weapons to fight with as well,” he said, taking on another personal retainer for the house. “Now, off with ye! ‘Tis Yule!” he ordered with a grin. Arthfael sped out of the arena headed for the barracks kitchen and the delicious first meal waiting there. He found sausage, fried eggs and griddlecakes being served, he took his plate in turn, sat and partook of the delicious meal, feeling very much at home at last.

Upstairs, the feasting began amongst the nobles as Deborah spoke to the staff. “Ye are all excused for the day. Go home and be with yer families! ‘Tis Yule!”

A great cheer went up as those who wished to leave finished up their work and did so. Those who remained were rewarded generously with a bag of silver coins, a pouch of pipeweed and a double ration of drink later that day. When the other noblewomen learned of it, most of them pitched to help, including Amelia and Lilly, the two most discordant women in the Land. Their presence was welcomed by all the other women, cups of sparkling wine were handed about and they fell to work, helping to keep sausage links and slices of smoked pork belly cooking for the service line. Gifts were distributed after the morning meal, then the chessboards and backgammon games came out amongst the adults. The Goddess granted them a pleasant day of feasting, dancing and drinking, while Drake and Hadrian parlayed with the other Lords in the name of trade and prosperity for all.

Out in the groves, the Oak King walked with his Lady, blessing each and every creature and plant as they did so, easing the waiting time for Spring and the rebirth of all green and living things.

“We chose well, when We blessed the Natanleods,” She said to him.

“Aye, My Lady, ye did indeed choose well. I had very little to do with it, in any case. Nor would I wish to, for Ye are She from whom All life flows. I am only here to help ye, not to rule.”

“Ah, but without ye, My Lord, ‘twould not be as much life as exists. We have created well, together.”

“When we work together, my dear, ‘tis naught we cannot accomplish. I wish our children would see this, in their own relationships.”

“Perhaps they will, in time, my lord,” She replied in a loving tone. “Come, we have more to do this night if ‘tis to be a merry Yule for all.”

He turned and saw a sprig of mistletoe growing close by. He called her attention to it with a smile. They shared an embrace and a kiss under the mistletoe at exactly the turning of the Wheel.

“Merry Yule, my lady.”

“Merry Yule, my lord,” She replied. They walked into the mist together, leaving no trace of their passing, excepting the blessing of their presence.

Finis - The End

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We see world differently.We see colours.We see fun and beauty. https://www.facebook.com/insidemysoulismagic/

The Crafty Witch A place for all followers of The Craft to relax, share ideas, and stay connected with one another. No hate or discrimination . https://www.facebook.com/thecraftywitch/

The Humble Witch Where Inspiration comes to Life All paths of Witchcraft are Welcomed Reach out to fellow Witches.Learn teach & discuss every aspect of the craft lifestyle https://www.facebook.com/ thehumblewitch/

The Art Of Steve Hutton

Follow Mr. Hutton on Facebook at https://www.facebook.com/steve.hutton.31