William approached but waited a short distance from them until he was invited closer. The Warblood was always respectful of the conversations between the priests. “Aislinn has seen a priest, already on Orkney.”
“Aislinn, what did you learn of him?” William asked. Aislinn’s dreamwalking had saved Brienne’s life and William had been part of it, so he respected that, too. “Did you send someone on ahead, Marcus?”
“Nay. I know of none in our line here.” He and William looked at Aislinn for an explanation.
“He did not know until the mark rose and the dreams began,” she explained. “And, Marcus, he is a priest in the Church. The Church of Rome.”
“How can that be?” William asked before Marcus could. William had been raised in that faith. “Catholic priests are not usually open to heresy.”
In lands where the Church ruled, talk of other gods or other faiths brought up charges of heresy, damning anyone accused of that to torture and a fiery death.
“I saw him. He wears the robe and cross and his hair is cut in the manner of a priest. He said his name is Ander. Father Ander.”
He and William exchanged glances and shrugged. William’s own faith had been tested and shifted from the belief in one God to the possibility of others in this endeavor.
“He knows both of them. The Stormblood and the Waterblood are known to him and their powers are rising.”
Aislinn’s dreams and prophecies had pointed them north to Orkney and to the one island called the mainland. But they expected to go and search for signs of the Stormblood and Waterblood. Now, though, this priest had given her wonderful news. Marcus shook off his shock first and nodded.
“Gods be praised!” he called out. The others gathered around them. “We have a brethren priest awaiting us ahead.”
The excitement spread and it brought about a lifting of spirits that they all needed. William even called to the other ships and told them. The winds were kind to them and soon they approached the northwest corner of the main island. With the knowledge and instructions given in her dreams, Aislinn was able to direct them to the bay closest to where Ander would await them.
By afternoon, the ships approached as closely as they could and anchored. It took several more hours to unload the people, horses, supplies and weapons. By dark, the encampment was set up and they awaited the arrival of their newest priest.
Thirteen
The only goodthing about that day was that the weather was fair. Lack of sleep and the need to hold his control in a tight grip made Soren bad-tempered throughout the day. Ran never looked askance or commented, but she knew to give him some distance this day. It did not matter, truly, whether she was near or far, he could not get her out of his mind. They split apart, each going in a different direction around Brodgar’s ring of stones looking for signs or clues. But every time he glanced over at her, she was looking at him. They spent the morning examining each of the more than thirty stones, and then searched the cairns that lay in all directions around the circle. Most of the cairns were simple mounds or small hills with no stones or places to leave clues. Some, a very few, had flat stones or raised ones nearby.
They shared a simple meal and headed north again. It would take a few hours to reach the coast and the place designated by Ander. How the priest was traveling there, he knew not, but he worried not about that.
If Ander said he would meet them, he would. As they approached the Loch of Skaill, they found Ander waiting for them on the main road to the bay called by the same name.
“My friends,” the priest called out.
“Ander,” Soren greeted him.
“Father,” Ran said.
“Have you found any clues left behind by Einar?” Ander asked, as he fell in with them.
“None,” Soren answered. “Though we have learned much since we saw you last.”
As they rode past the loch, Soren and Ran explained what had happened in their encounter with Hugh de Gifford and what he was searching for. Ander seemed at ease with everything they told him, which disturbed Soren in some manner.
“Should you not object to such things, Ander? Or tell us the cost to our immortal souls for pursuing knowledge of false gods?” he asked finally.
“In my travels and work for the bishop, I have seen and read and learned many things, Soren. I have learned that it is the sacred duty of good people to battle evil whenever and however they encounter it. It is what God’s Son teaches us. And if our Almighty Father allows there to exist other lesser deities or beings to aid in His cause and is not threatened by their presence, who am I to tell Him otherwise?”
Soren considered the words of explanation for a minute and could not decide if Ander was jesting or not. Ran shrugged, unwilling to argue with the priest. “When you say it in that manner, it makes sense,” he admitted.
“Well, my friend, I heard your words, declaring the powers you now have, but I admit that I would be more comfortable if I witnessed it.”
“You wish to see a display, Ander?” Soren asked. “You saw my hand change, Father,” Ran said.
“Ah, I did. But it was as I lay delirious. I may have dreamt it.”
“Oh ye of little faith,” Soren muttered as he looked to Ran. She nodded and walked to the edge of the loch. He waited for her to go first.
