Kindred Spirit Lodge Presents
Shaman/Warrior
by Nessa
May 30th, 2002
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I remember myself.
I am Nessa, a warrior and a shaman.
Shameless is my Goddess and ferocious.
I am a horse-bound clanswoman;
a red haired, full-robed, bronze-belted swordswoman.
I am shaman of sacred groves and other old realms,
From: Nessa
the Warrior
A poem by Nessa
The Celt sat up. It was no use, sleep would not replace the sounds in her head. They were sounds of drums and chanting. Memories of long ago and something calling to her spirit now, brought her to her feet. It wasn't a sense of urgency that moved her, but rather a sense of reverence and duty to her great belief.
The light of the moon and the Seven Sisters beamed through her open window. Fragrances from the garden below blended heavily with lilac, honeysuckle and night blooming jasmine. Calls from the night bird rang out through the warm air. Nessa consumed these things with all senses, as she quietly dressed.
The corridors of the Lodge were lit with the small torches Killian found in the village. They threw off a nice flicker that made the shadows dance. Nessa was glad she thought to oil the hinges on the huge door to the Lodge entrance. It was quiet as she pulled it open and stepped out into the silver night.
Tuttle was as alert as she always was when the Celt came into her presence. She lifted her nose for the touch she loved. It was unusual but not alarming that her beloved Nessa was here at this time of night fitting her bridle to her. Coming out of the stables without a saddle, the mare felt the grasp of mane and the weight of her rider settle from a leap to her bare back. Powerful warrior legs held close to the broad back. She lifted her ears at the slight whistle and bounded into the meadow on a full gallop toward the trees.
Nessa felt a kind of blending with Tuttle when she rode without the saddle. They felt movement and weight and heat from each other. This was the way of the ancients. Her thoughts rolled back to past times as she rode. She thought of the Isle of Shadow and her great teacher, Aife.
Her warrior skills were honed well at ninteen winters, but Aife would have her be more ready and rounded by learning the ways of the druids. Nessa complied and studied with the great, Inindair whose name means, 'daughter of the oak.' The Celt thought this thought and was suddenly aware of the nature of this calling. She understood that she was being summoned by the Spirit of the Oak. She gave way to intuition and gave Tuttle full rein. Horse and rider raced through the night, both sensing sacred meaning in every particle of motion.
Once inside the forest, Tuttle slowed to a soft lope and then a walk as the trees thickened around them. Nessa stayed watchful . She saw the owl swoop out from an overhead branch. It drifted in close and then swerved as if to say, "follow me little sister." Nessa watched as the night bird fluttered and dipped from tree to tree, waiting for the Celt to follow.
They were deeper into this forest than Nessa had been since moving to the Lodge. The air itself took on a kind of thickness as if it were teeming with living, invisible beings. She sensed them gathering about. Steady, she dismounted and walked, stopping just short of entrance to a circle of trees so beloved it made her tremble to be in their presence. But Nessa was Druid now. She belonged among the oaks. The very name of Druid means finder and knower of oaks.
Scattered just beyond and around the circle of ancient giants stood the equally powerful Maple, waving their flaming red leaves in the breeze. They seemed to be partnering with the Oak sisters toward the common purpose before them. They shimmered a psychic light that entered the shaman, welcoming her to the realm of sacred trees. Dropping the reins to the forest floor, Nessa entered the circle.
Standing in the center, Nessa turned slowly to face the oldest oak in the circle. The moon gave her gift of light to the exquisite scene. The heart of the Celt beat hot with wild yearning. She breathed deeply, sensing the powerful spirit housed in the monument tree before her. She bowed her head and whispered, "Mother Dair (Oak), your inin (daughter) awaits your bidding."
The air rippled around Nessa. Faeries of every size and description appeared within the circle. They sat on stones and lounged on branches. They skittered and danced as they moved from place to place. They tittered in shyness, glancing furtively between the shaman and the Mother Oak. Nessa took in a breath to hold her in place when she saw the venerable Spirit of the Oak appear within the tree trunk... blending with it. She staggered back when the being smiled. "Woo hoo, scary warrior!" Giggling faeries teased. "Some big Druid... ha, ha."
Nessa could barely speak "I... I take your will upon me, Mother." She dropped to a knee and bowed her head.
The Spirit's voice penetrated right into the Celtic heart. "Stand young walker between the worlds. I desire your attention."
Nessa moved slowly, not sure of her footing in this place between worlds. Yet if she was a walker between the worlds as the Spirit called her, she ought to at least be able to stand. She took heart and lifted herself to her full height. She focused her gray eyes on the vision. "You have my attention Mother." The tittering faeries quieted.
"It seems we have an unwanted guest here in the realm of Faery. We know not how she got here but she is rapidly losing all knowledge of who she is as she dwells here. The Faery have named her `Einni (anyone) since she does not know her own name." The Spirit of the Oak nodded to a troop of guardians standing by. "Bring her." The Spirit smiled. Again, Nessa felt her legs melting to mush.
The guardian troop filed away with a seriousness that was comical to the lord, given the attitude of the other faeries in the circle. They came back after a short time Nessa thought, but could not be sure since time was so elusive here. They walked with a very pretty young woman. Her clothes were those of a warrior Nessa could see, though they were tattered and worn through. The Celt was struck with a sense of familiarity. It was the clothes. She had seen this particular uniform before. Suddenly she was struck with a thundering rage as she remembered the insignia of the hated Tantalas. This warrior was an enemy.
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Nessa's hand closed around her sword hilt. Memories of battles and ambushes where Kindred fell jabbed at her. Her beloved friend Alison took a twisted crossbow bolt through the shoulder. Had it not been for the tested skill of their healer, Amber, Alison might have lost that arm. Thoughts of Killian's rape at the hands of one of Tantalas' most evil soldiers drove the hatred to a pinnacle in the Celt. She drew her sword.
"Stand down shaman." The voice of the Oak Spirit shook the air.
"But Mother, she is evil!" Reluctantly, Nessa held all movement, but stood just ready to lunge.
The voice softened. "That much is clear daughter. But you will not spill blood on this ground." The Spirit watched the warrior in a moment of reassurance and continued. "Look at her walker. She is barely aware that you stand there. She has become as a child in her perceptions."
Nessa looked at the Tantalas warrior. `Einni (pronounced, any and means, "anyone") seemed to have nearly no attention span. Her eyes glanced from one faery to the next, up at Nessa and back to the Spirit. There was a slowness about her that made it clear that she was no threat in this state. Still, there was something about the way she moved. She held shadows close... as if she belonged to them. 'This one has secrets' Nessa thought.
Nessa moved her gaze to the Spirit of the Oak. "She is the reason you called me from my bed Mother?"
"You must guide her through the realm of timelessness and take her from our world. It requires little from you daughter, but we cannot do it. We cannot find where she entered so that we may send her back the way she came." The oaken face seemed sad.
The Celt knew that all she needed to do was to take `Einni's hand. She knew she could lift the veil and walk back into the world of human knowing. She knew because she was taught to do it many years ago. Nessa determined to show the evil bitch the end of her sword immediately after crossing.
The Spirit seemed to read the mind of the shaman. "You must not kill her then either walker... not right away. She has to show you where she hid our sacred immram (soul stone), which you will return to us." She paused and spoke softly. "That, my daughter, is why I called you from your bed."
Nessa blinked. "What happened, Mother? How did she get your soul stone?"
The Spirit explained. ''As you know, there are accidental avenues whereby a human can enter our realm. It is our belief that this human did not come accidentally but came through with a purpose. She found the entrance and stole our stone from us. She was clever and fast."
"But she got out and hid the stone. Why is she back Mother?"
"She was running from battle daughter... the battle in which you and your Kindred defeated the wicked Tantalas. She ran to the only place she could run, to hide completely... here." The Spirit of the Oak sent a look that Nessa felt to her bones. "You know my will daughter."
Nessa understood her duty to return the sacred soul stone to the otherworld. She could not deny it. But she also knew that Einni's confusion would clear soon after the entrance to their realm. The warrior was crafty in her thinking and would not make it easy for the Celt. This evil woman could have allies unheard of. Who knew what barriers may be in store?
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The End - 'Shaman/Warrior' - by Lord Nessa