“The prophecy!” William said.
Then Aislinn spoke: “While those of the blood advance and the lost lose their way, Water and Storm protect the hidden. The hidden reveals its secrets only to those who struggle with their faith.”
Soren noticed everyone waiting for the next part. The prophecy was supposed to be revealed when the gateway was closed, but Ander did not know how to find it. But when Ander spoke again, saying words they had not heard, Soren realized that it mattered not for the prophecy had found him.
“The faithful are lost and the lost have faith. The Bringer of Life cares for the Caretaker and the one who loses all will gain the most.”
In one motion, Aislinn and Ander faced south and each pointed in unison toward the west of England.
Now they knew where the next circle would be found. Soren had heard that there was a great stone henge and many other standing stones in the western countryside on the ancient plain of Sarum. But where would they find the hidden one?
William and the other leaders decided that they needed to rest and organize for a journey that far. He sent word to those in Hamnavoe to wait for their arrival three days hence and the groups traveled down to Orphir, both to bury Ran’s father and to reclaim their property.
The organized camp Soren had found was gone. The ships were gone. Hugh de Gifford was gone. The house was empty of people and supplies. And neither Ran nor Ander would remain inside it. Soren arranged a shelter for him and Ran in one of the unused barns and Ander found a place to sleep amongst the other priests. As warrior and strategist, William scheduled guards and set up duties and tasks for all his men for the next days until they would leave to travel south. Messengers came and went. Supplies were purchased and sent to the ships in Hamnavoe harbor.
Soren decided not to seek out his grandfather’s cottage before they left Orkney. Arrangements were made to find Ingeborg and explain the events to her. Something deep within told him that Hugh had sent someone there once he’d learned of Einar’s powers and his knowledge.
“You are frowning,” Ran said, stroking his back as they discussed what she would tell her brother. They sat at a table brought out of the house, working on a letter. Ran resisted entering the house since they’d returned.
“I was thinking,” he said. He did not want to speak about Einar. “I think Erik should know the truth about Aslaug, but I think telling him the truth about the bairn would be cruel,” he explained.
“Crueler than deceiving him?” Ran asked.
“I think we should wait and tell him to his face,” Soren said, leaning back and pulling her to him. “’Tis not something he should find out this way,” he said, pointing to the parchment she’d begun writing on.
“Do you think we will live to tell him?” Ran asked. Soren took her hand and kissed the palm of it. He leaned into her, enjoying the experience of having her close at hand and knowing she would be.
“I cannot say what the future will hold for us,” he said. “But with the gift you carry, I pray—as does good Father Ander—for a swift end to the evil one and her henchman.”
“Ah, you mention his name and he appears,” Ran said, standing to greet Father Ander and the priest who Aislinn said would be consecrated as their high priest. “Soren. Ran.” Father Ander smiled and greeted them. “Corann has asked me to present him to you.”
Soren stood and helped Corann to sit. His leg was splinted as was his arm. Bruises of purple and green lined the edges of his jaw and cheeks. “I have seen you before, Corann. Aislinn tells us you are to be high priest?”
“Not by my choice,” Corann said. He was not an old man, not as old as Marcus had been, but his voice was filled with a tone that spoke of experience and knowledge. “Marcus designated me when he learned of the gods’ plans for his own end.” Corann paused a moment, thinking, Soren knew, about that ending. “I will do my best to teach and care for our people.”
“When will you gain your new position, Corann?” Ran asked as she sat back down. “Is there a ceremony?”
“There is always a ceremony or ritual to be held,” he said with a laugh. “Those have held us together over the generations. They connect us to our past and will connect us to future generations to come.” He finished with a strange stare at Ran.
“So is there something we can do for you? Is that why you wanted to meet us?” Soren asked. The odd expression remained as the priest watched Ran with a special curiosity.
“Nay! Nay,” he said, shaking his head. Then Ander nodded at him and Corann continued. “Ander and I wanted to offer our services to you. To you and Ran,” he said. “That is . . .” He paused and frowned at Ander. “I mean . . .”
Soren laughed then at the man’s clear discomfort at whatever the topic was to be. “What services would they be?”
“Aislinn has explained to me, gods forgive me for not being there to witness it myself, that you and Ran actually had the god and goddess within you for a time.”
Ran blushed at him, thinking of the same times when they had given their bodies over to the deities. “Aye. Several times,” he said.
He did not need a deity inhabiting his body to merge with Ran. Indeed, his body gave him a clear sign that he would be willing even at that moment.
“So, we, two, wondered if you would want to have your union blessed before the community? Our community. All of us,” Corann finally got the words out.
They’d been busy handling so many tasks dealing with endings and departures that Soren had not thought about that. Although he knew he would never give Ran up and that they had joined in a way unlike any he’d imagined possible, they had not spoken of marriage.
Not since the pledge they’d made between themselves had been broken two years past. She’d not said a word during this whole time, so he turned to her.
“Would you be my wife, Ran? I think we have waited long enough to claim each other in marriage.” He held out his hand to her. He had no doubt of her decision, but he wanted to hear her say the words, now that all barriers between them were gone and the unhappy past could be just that.
