In an age long past the Gods walked the land and warred among themselves in the great war men named the God Wars. In that terrible time the Dark God was locked away in the Otherworld of Tir na Scáil, the Land of Eternal Shadow, by the Gods of Light, the Shining Ones. Now he again reaches out to touch the world in search of an ancient weapon forged by the Smith God. If he finds it the Long Night will fall forever over the lands of men. Waiting in his room to be summoned to the Hall of Mirrors to receive his penance for violating the Goddess Danu's Sanctuary, Ciarán, a young Celtae warrior, is enveloped in a golden light and given a perilous quest-journey across the Forbidden Lands, the realms of the Dark God's powerful Psi'ans, the Ring Lords, and find the Sunspear before it falls into the hands of the Shadow. In the crucible of the Forbidden Lands Ciarán learns the true price of being a Psi'an-the constant struggle he must wage against his Darksoul each time he opens a vortex to his Psi, the vast psionic power of the inner mind. If his Darksoul escapes into his conscious mind, he will become a creature of the Dark God. Book I of The God wars of Ithir, Warrior of the Three Moons begins the great quest to claim the Sunspear by Ciarán and his companions: The one-eyed Battle Druidess, Scáthach, The mysterious Red Druid, Oisín, who teaches Ciarán to use his psionic powers, and the tiny Sean Priestess, Rillsong, who lays claim to his heart.
Warrior of the Three Moons
Book I of the God Wars of IthirBy J. Michael RobertsonAuthorHouse
Copyright © 2010 J. Michael Robertson
All right reserved.ISBN: 978-1-4520-7806-9 Contents
Chapter 1. The Flight Of The Wood Elf..........................1Chapter 2. Confrontations......................................17Chapter 3. Man-Day.............................................33Chapter 4. Scáthach's Secret..............................51Chapter 5. A Voice In The Light................................67Chapter 6. The Ard Fáinne.................................83Chapter 7. Destiny's Path......................................97Chapter 8. Rise A Warrior......................................111Chapter 9. Battle Druidess.....................................125Chapter 10. A Gift Of Farewell.................................139Chapter 11. A Dance Of Spears..................................151Chapter 12. The Shame Of A Thousand Years......................169Chapter 13. A Dream Of Passage.................................183Chapter 14. Rillsong...........................................199Chapter 15. Plans Within Plans.................................211Chapter 16. Troll Hound........................................227Chapter 17. Wolfbrother........................................243Chapter 18. Dark Dream.........................................255Chapter 19. The Stone Of Tears.................................271Chapter 20. The Quest Begins...................................285Chapter 21. Into The Forbidden Lands...........................301Chapter 22. The Horse Clans....................................317Chapter 23. Women's Business...................................331Chapter 24. The Gleaning.......................................349Chapter 25. Shadow Priest......................................363Chapter 26. The Turning........................................379Chapter 27. One Cup Of Wine....................................391Chapter 28. Breaking The Thirteenth Circle.....................405Chapter 29. Warrior Of The Three Moons.........................419Glossary.......................................................429The People In Warrior Of The Three Moons.......................453
Chapter One
The Flight Of The Wood Elf
"Dream-fair, beside dream waters, it stands alone. A winged thought of Lugh laid its corner stone. A desire of his heart raised its walls on high, And set its crystal windows to flaunt the sky." The Shadow House of Lugh - Anonymous, Ireland, 8th Century
The Wheel of the Year has turned four thousand times since the Gods defeated their brother, the Khem Úru, the Dark God, in the God Wars. A thousand years have passed since the Battle Druid Cuhulain, the last Warrior of the Three Moons, was slain at the Raven Stone. In that desperate time the mythical Sunspear forged in the God Age by the Smith God, Goibhniu was lost to the sight of men. Now the Dark God again reaches out to touch the world. With his stirring, the Long Night begins to fall over Éirinn, sacred land of the Celtae.
* * *
The boy crept stealthily to the edge of the thicket of maple and hemlock lining the riverbank. He cast a quick look up and down the fast moving Erináen and then scrambled down to the shoal of pebbles below. This trip, with the help of old Angus MacRaibh, a traveling tinker, he had sneaked a sword, bow case, and horn bow out of Sky Stone. By leaving before morn had chimed and hiding in Angus' wagon, he had eluded the young Ainnir who had begun shadowing his every waking moment.
Born in the month of the Willow Moon, he was named after Ciarán of the Long Spear, a long dead hero of the Éireanni, his mother's people. Left to his own devices, which was seldom, he devoted himself to becoming a great warrior like Long Spear. Tall, with broad shoulders and narrow waist, he was nearing the size of the man he would become and had to stoop to enter the cave the Erináen had carved into its bank. Straightening, he felt along the shelf of rock until he found the glow lamp and lifted its shutter. When his eyes had adjusted to the light, he turned the hourglass sitting beside it. Then smugly congratulating himself, he wrapped sword, bow case and horn bow in oiled cloth and placed them on a ledge. He quickly inspected the clothing, mail shirt, short sword, belt knife, and other items that he had stored in the cave before winter had frozen the land. He breathed a sigh of relief. Sulis, Goddess of rivers and lakes, had favored him. The river's spring flood had not risen to the rock shelves carved in the cave's walls.
Finishing his inspection, he glanced at the hour glass. More than half the sand remained in the upper globe. If he hurried, he could finish the raft he needed to ferry his equipment across the Erináen when the time came. He took a pouch of leather thongs from a ledge and went to the pile of four-span-long poles stacked by the cave wall. Selecting four stout ones, he carefully lashed them to the cross members of the small raft. When it was finished, he leaned it against the wall next to the entrance. After making sure everything was securely wrapped, he shuttered the glow lamp and crawled out onto the stony beach.
Rain spattered into the stones, forcing him to pull up the hood of his cloak. Pushing a lock of raven-black hair from his eyes, he looked at the sky. The storm that had come during the night had settled in the Erináen's broad valley, cloaking the early morning in grays and silvers. Ostara, the festival marking the beginning of spring lay a month in the past, but the wind swirling through the trees was cold, as though the Frost Giants, who ruled the eternal winter of the Cairngorm's high peaks, were reluctant to give up their hold on the land. He shivered and picked up a hemlock branch lying by the entrance. Slowly backing up the path, he brushed away all signs that he had been here.
He paused at the top, his breath clouding the chill air in little puffs. Northward across the Erináen, the Coill mór Dubh rose ridge behind ridge of gray and green into the morning until it faded, featureless and shadowy, into the deep curtain of rain. In another month, if things happened as he thought they would, he would have to survive there. Stories told by the bards said that the Black Forest was the land of Sean. He pulled his woolen bratt close against the rain. The Faeryfolk, if they existed, were a problem for the future. He had a more immediate challenge to overcome.
Up river Sky Stone, Clan Donnachaidh's great hold stood like a sentinel at the tip of its peninsula. Even here, two leagues away, the massive pillar of white granite was impressive. Legend held that Llew, Lord of the Morning, had raised the oval shaped monolith in the God Age when he walked among men, and battled the Dark God in the War of the Gods. It was not until after the Raven Wars that the Stone, long abandoned by the God, became the Clan Hold of the Donnachaidh, a Highland Clan of the Scotti.
Cold rain stung his face, driving him from his musing. "Quit woolgathering," he muttered. "The Ainnir are hunting you by now." He had not forgotten the promise they had made the last time they had caught him outside the Clan Hold. "Bond servants do not come and go as they please, Wood Elf," Kiara, his foster sister had said. "If you leave the Stone again without a woman's permission, my battle sisters will give your rump a welting, and bring you back tied to a carrying pole in...
