Free Isolde: Queen of the Western Isle by Rosalind Miles Page A

Isolde's soul. Already her mother's revelation seemed less terrible than before. And nothing would shake the strength of her belief.
A queen is married to her country. She does not choose for herself
.
    True, true
, cooed the white doves overhead.
    You are right
, said the bright eyes of the hare at the side of the path.
    Courage, little mother, hold fast
, whispered the old oak tree overhead as the silver birches giggled and tossed their heads. Isolde nodded, and thanked them from her heart.
    With a tremor she felt her horse pick up its pace. And there it was at the end of the path ahead, the clearing of the Goddess, a pure circle of sunlight amid the dark oaks. Here the Druids came at midwinter with their silver sickles to cut the golden bough. And here in the sacred grove was the man she sought.
    Softly the horses padded forward into the glowing pool of gold. The whole forest fell silent as the sacred glade welcomed them in. Isolde looked around, dazzled by the noonday sun. Slowly she made out a lofty figure standing motionless beneath the trees, his dark-dyed robes blending with the shadows around.
    She dismounted, passed the reins to Brangwain, and crossed the sunlit clearing to the darkness beyond. In this sacred place, Isolde knew, the Chief Druid spent his days in fasting and prayer, seeing visions when the Shining Ones came. Here he led the worship of the Great One, and taught the young Druids to follow in his steps. Here he lived alone, and for the hundredth time Isolde wondered why.
    Many of the girls of Dubh Lein cast eyes at the handsome Cormac, and there was no reason why he could not take a wife. Christian priests were forced to live celibate for their God, but Druids lived to celebrate the joys the Goddess gives. With his long, lean frame and his deep-set dark blue eyes, Cormac could have had the heart of any woman alive. But the Great One of the Western Isle was his only love.
    He stepped forward to greet her with a searching look, and his beauty filled her eyes. A Druid band held back his thick black hair and his pale face glowed like a flower in the forest when nothing else is by.
    "Welcome, Princess. You have brought a great trouble, I see."
    She knew he could read minds with the same skill as he divined the secrets of the stars. She nodded.
    "The Queen has sent Sir Marhaus to claim Cornwall as her own. Can you advise her? Make her change her mind?"
    A smile of terrible sadness crossed his face. "Ah, lady, only Sir Marhaus can do that."
    "But a queen may not choose for herself," Isolde said stubbornly. "You are her Druid. You can tell her so, she honors the old ways."
    Cormac threw back his head. "Princess Isolde, the old ways are changing faster than you know," he said tensely, his midnight eyes fixed on hers. "In ancient times, when a queen took a new consort, the man she discarded was given to the Gods. The old priests hung him on a tree for three days and nights, then took his manhood with their golden knives. Afterward his blood and his flesh, his seed and his sex were given together to enrich the earth."
    Isolde turned her face away. She had heard such things.
    "They did this every year." Cormac pressed on, ignoring her. "Then it became three years, and then seven, before the King must die. Now the chosen one lives on as part of the warrior band, and all the world knows that a queen must have her knights." He paused. "That is all your mother knows."
    "But surely you can make her understand!"
    "Your mother understands one thing only, her own will and desire," the Druid said passionately. "Think of yourself now, Princess. When a star falls, those who hold on may go down to the darkness too."
    Isolde felt a breath of fear and with it a strange wind from the Otherworld.
If I had a knight to defend me, a true love of my own
—
    "Ah, Princess…"
    A white dove was singing in a distant glade. She looked up to see Cormac's slate-blue eyes burning like sea fire. "Already you know what it is to be a queen.