The lead warrior of the Tribe of Dana said proudly, “We lost none. And none injured.” His brilliant eyes blazed with triumph.
Lancelot reported the loss of one man, with three wounded. He then ordered quietly, “Bring the bodies of our seven fallen knights into the Great Hall. Cover them with sacred cloth. Tomorrow, we’ll bury them near the sacred stones. And honortheir sacrifice.” Several knights rose at once, exiting in solemn silence.
Laudine and four priestesses of the Tribe of Dana had set up a makeshift hospital in the Great Hall where the wounded were being carefully laid onto cots quickly set up by servants. With the sacred, curative waters of the fountain and the medicinal herbs of the Forest of Brocéliande, theguérisseusestended the battered knights who had been injured defending the castle.
Laudine came over to Tristan to treat the gouge on his cheek and clean the dried blood from his filthy face. With a soft cloth and a basin of water from the sacred spring, she gently washed his face with herbal soap and applied a soothing ointment over his wound. She whispered in his ear, “It is not deep. This salve will aid healing and prevent it from festering.” She quietly rejoined her priestesses to care for the rest of the wounded.
Tristan sat down upon the floor of the Great Hall beside many of his fellow knights. Faces were streaked with blood and grime; everyone was drenched from the storm. Despite the injuries, he saw the savage thrill of victory on the battered, brutal faces all around him. Lancelot’s commanding voice carried across the heads of the knights and warriors of the Tribe of Dana leaning against the sturdy walls of the Castle of Landuc.
“Tomorrow, our fallen knights receive the sacred burial. We burn the bodies of the enemy.” Heads bowed in remembrance of those who had fallen.
Tristan observed the men around him. Some cleaned their bloodied weapons, others nursed painful wounds. All were listening intently, their eyes fixed on Lancelot. Their revered leader.
“Each one of you displayed courage and valor tonight in defending Landuc.” Lancelot walked through the men, his eyes glowing with respect, pride, and honor. “Victory is ours. May the Goddess be praised!” Cheers rippled through the ragged voicesof the bloodied men. Swords frapped against shields, the savage applause of warriors. A thrill rushed up Tristan’s spine.
“We liberated Laudine. Defended Landuc. Protected the sacred Fountain of Barenton.”
Lancelot met the shining eyes of his valiant men. “Victory is ours because of your prowess. Your courage. Your skill. Men, I salute you.” White teeth shone in the dim firelight, faces alight with honor and respect.
Lancelot turned to the First Knight of Landuc. “Agrane, take my men to join yours in the knights’ lodge.” To his own men, he directed, “Sir Agrane will lead you to the knights’ lodge, which can accommodate one hundred. There are cots and bedding for everyone. In the morning, we honor our fallen. For now, go and rest. May the Goddess bless you all. Good night, men. Well done!”
The knights gathered their weapons and followed Agrane across the courtyard to the lodge near the stables. Tristan saw Lancelot and Esclados conferring quietly with the Tribe of Dana in a far corner of the Great Hall.
Once the knights had left, and the wounded soldiers were resting peacefully, Laudine and her four priestesses joined Lancelot and the Tribe. Esclados motioned for Tristan to approach. He rose to his feet, a new thrill surging through him.
“Tristan, tonight you valiantly defended the castle of Landuc. You slew the infamous dwarf Bédalis. And protected the sacred Fountain of Barenton.” The Red Knight nodded to the other members of the Tribe of Dana, including Lancelot.
“Because of the valor you showed in defending the sacred realm of the Goddess, we invite you to join us. To become a member of the Tribe of Dana. What say you, Blue Knight of Cornwall?”
Tristan was speechless. Lancelot flashed him the familiar boyish grin, encouragement shining in his proud eyes.
“It would be my greatest honor to join the Tribe of Dana,” Tristan stammered. “I humbly thank you, Lord Esclados!”
The Red Knight responded with a hearty grin. “Excellent! Tomorrow we honor our fallen with a tribute and sacred burial. We burn the bodies of the enemy. Once night has fallen, we will conduct your initiation ceremony in the clearing. Where we summoned the storm.”
A gleam twinkled in Esclados’ expressive dark eyes. “And Tristan, as a reward for rescuing my wife, the Lady of the Fountain. For your valor in defending the sacred element ofwater—I will present you an additional, most precious gift. Which you will receive in a special ceremony tomorrow night.”
Tristan beamed as Lord Esclados slapped him heartily upon the shoulders. The Red Knight then turned to the members of the Tribe of Dana. “Fellow warriors, allow my servants to escort you to our guest chambers. You all fought heroically tonight. We defended the sacred fountain…and the sacred Forest of Brocéliande. The Goddess Dana is most pleased with Her tribe.”
With a nod to Tristan, he announced to the men, “Tomorrow, we induct a new member, with the traditional ceremony in the sacred forest.”
The dark, burly Lord Esclados turned to his wife and placed an arm around her shoulder, pulling her into a warm hug. As the servants ushered the Tribe members to their chambers, the Red Knight said in parting, “Good night, everyone. Sleep well.”
Tristan bid good night to Esclados, Laudine, and Lancelot, following a servant to his guest room. He disrobed, washed the grime from his body, and curled into the comfortable bed, his mind racing, reliving the thrilling events of the tumultuous day.
He’d defended the castle and had single-handedly defeated that damned dwarf Bédalis. He’d saved Laudine and her priestesses and had helped Esclados invoke the storm. The divine power of the Goddess.
And now, I will become a member of the Tribe of Dana.
As he drifted off to sleep, Tristan of Lyonesse felt a true sense of belonging. A camaraderie here in the Forest of Brocéliande. A sacred brotherhood to fill the bitter emptiness inside his savage soul.
Chapter 19
The Escort from Avalon
Maiwenn knew she had to act quickly. From the sound of the horses’ hooves, there were several riders at least, so it wasn’t just Bran and Dee. She raced into the woods behind the cottage, her heart pounding furiously, praying that the Goddess would protect her beloved Églantine. Drawing from the deep well of her newly reawakened magic, the Green Fairy of the Hazelwood Forest—la Fée Verte de la Forêt—summoned her loyal woodland creatures.
****
