Awaken The Lord Of The Dance

Celtic Dream
Continued

The kitchen was bustling with activity and mostly chaos today as the goats were bleating noisily outside, and the cat was meowing for some milk. The old druid shook his head wearily and peered outside the window anxiously. He shook his head and sighed, wondering what he had to do to keep that child inside the house for her lessons.

Suddenly, there was a loud crash in the front door and a giggling girl ran into the kitchen, almost stumbling over the poor druid. Her blond locks hung below her shoulders in a cascade of curls and her face radiated with joy. However upon seeing the druid's raised eyebrow, features set in a frown, she silenced her giggles and sat down opposite him at the table. Just then a large dog ran into the house, barking loudly and panting for breath as it glanced at the girl, then at the druid, then made a pitiful sound before sitting on its hunches and finally lying down.

"Ach, child," groaned the druid. "What am I to do wit ye?" He pushed a large book before her and thrust a writing stick into her awaiting hand.

"Father," Saoirse begun, catching her breath as she spoke. "Luis and I were only having some fun, father, and---" She stopped, wondering how she would tell him what had happened by the ailim tree.

The druid shook his head but his face was smiling. How could he scold his only daughter for enjoying life so? He watched her write her numbers and letters in Ogham, the ancient language of druids and bards, her writing stick scribbling out lines that stuck out here and there haphazardly it seemed.

"Do you know most of your letters now?" he asked the girl who was busily writing on the old book and the druid feared that if she pressed harder she would rip the paper beneath her hand.

Saoirse nodded. "Yes, Father. I am almost finished with all the letters. It is so easy…I simply have to remember the trees."

The old man smiled. "That is good, Saoirse. After you have finished your lessons for today, I have a surprise for you." She looked up from the book, her face radiant against the sunlight. "But only until you finish your lessons."

Saoirse finished her lessons as quickly as she could, although by the time she was done, the sun was almost high above them, almost past noon. She washed herself of the dust acquired from running around with her dog, Luis, and with a cord of leather, tied her hair away from her face, the curls framing her features, yet not bothering her as she moved about her day. Barely eighteen summers, Saoirse was a beautiful young woman with eyes of sapphires and lips like the red blossoms of the rowan trees that dotted the land.

She glanced outside of her window and spotted the birds that were now busying themselves in the trees, and some were chirping about right outside the house. Saoirse stuck her hand outside and the birds flew away. She knew they would be back, but the old druid did not like their chirping too much. She knew the birds by name, even by their druidic name, as her father had taught her. Just as he had shown her the trees, named them, and expected her to do the same.

"Each tree has its own personality, Saoirse," he had told her even when she was a little girl trailing after him, barely reaching his knees. "You must learn to recognize it, and respect it. They will open up to you, if you let them."

And through her knowledge of trees, the learning of the Ogham language came easy to her for the ancient language was based on the twenty-five or so trees that dotted the land of Eire. Although messages were often cryptic in nature, Saoirse found the language easy to understand.

"Saoirse, my child," called the druid and Saoirse walked towards him, the massive dog following right behind her, licking her ankle. "Lord Michael du Cahiri is paying you a visit today. It came to me in a vision last night."

Saoirse's face turned crimson at the mention of the name and the druid chuckled.

"Father, I just met him when I was searching for hawthorn branches."

"Ah, I see, my child. Did the Little Spirit happen to be there when you 'chanced' upon the man?" Asked the druid Mil, watching his daughter's face turn crimson again. The Little Spirit aided the visions he often saw in her visits, such visions always coinciding with the Beltane festival.

Bards and druids were slowly disappearing throughout the land and the old man considered it a misfortune as bards carried with them the history of the people, even its genealogy. Stories were passed down from generation to generation by the bards of the towns, also called filidthe or poets, who maintained the people's character in their memories.

Saoirse nodded, beaming. "He came with me to collect the branches. Why he is here, I do not know, father."

The druid clucked his tongue. "Why he is here is not something you need to know right this minute, dear child. You are the Queen of May, and that is something you have to concentrate on today. Don't you have practice in a few minutes?"

The old man was referring to the dance the Queen of May, newly appointed by the druid and the town elders, performed for the crowds. Saoirse had danced it before, although this was the first year she was chosen as the Queen of May, representing the White Goddess of summer. A King of May had yet to be chosen and he would represent the Oak god. Together, the King and Queen of May would preside over the Beltane festival.

The druid had temporarily appointed Don Dorcha to be the King of May since no other man suitable for the position had been found. Each year, he had chosen the man and woman who would represent the King and Queen of May. But during this Beltane, the choice of King of May was an unusual one, fully presided over by the Little Spirit. He sighed and wondered how the Don would accept the decision the druid was to make today, knowing all too well about the man's quick flaring temper.

Saoirse nodded. "Yes, father. I shall be on my way in a few minutes."

"Saoirse, my child," said the druid and Saoirse looked up, as his tone of voice grew softer. "You will be the most beautiful goddess of the festival this town has ever seen."