Pride of the Celts

By Elijah Stephens

A Celtic fantasy rendition of Arthurian legend set after the age of Rome.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Elijah Stephens
• Release date: May 8, 2014
• ISBN: 9781939068378

Book preview

PRIDE OF THE CELTS

By

Elijah Stephens

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PUBLISHED BY:

Liquid Heaven Productions™

www.liquidheavenlive.com

Smashwords Edition

Pride of the Celts

Copyright © 2012 by Elijah Stephens

All rights reserved. No part of this work of fiction may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior written permission of the publisher.

Cover by CaterpillarBulldozer – DeviantArt

www.deviantart.com/caterpillarbulldozer

Other Quest Fantasy

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PRIDE OF THE CELTS

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Quinn Trevedic opened his eyes. He felt the rocking sea as the boat creaked beneath him and the salty air was cool on his face. His friend since childhood was already awake. With their Celtic status shown in long dark hair and elaborate braids, they were both in their twenties.

His mentor Bedivere woke beside them with an elder grunt. He straightened his white beard while peering across the mist and lapping waves. Is that music? he asked, but Quinn did not hear it.

They saw a forest appear above the haze and soon reached the shoreline. They walked on lush grass to a sacred grove, known as a nemeton, as the loud seabirds faded behind them and the smell of coconut filled the air. Under an alder tree, a shaman in a robe sat in contemplation surrounded by large golden dandelions.

Are we in Avalon? Kay asked solemnly, mourning what Quinn left behind.

Good, you’re here. The man stood and kindly greeted them. He held a staff made from the wood of an apple tree and introduced himself as Ollavain. Of the three types of renowned Celtic scholars, a bard was a singer and storyteller, a druid was a teacher and philosopher, and the ovates were healers and seers. He was apparently the third, as he seemed to be waiting for them. They asked what he was doing there and he referred to his work as soul-retrieval.

He then revealed that when someone dies in a foreign land, they must take the low road to return to the village where they were born. On the paths between worlds, the high road was the real highway, but the low road was faster. He said that though they had reached Avalon from their homeland, Quinn’s journey was only meant to gather something important to take home. Quinn assumed that this was why he couldn’t hear the same music as Bedivere. In place of a selfish thought, as such things had been made unnecessary, Kay seemed glad to know that their Chieftain was destined to return to their tribe.

As it was Celtic understanding, as the Sun went down Ollavain commented that a new day had begun. He offered to make a campfire, but Kay and Bedivere were warm enough to heat the entire grove. They settled into the grass near a dewy marsh and the smell of wild cherry trees. With clouds drifting by the moon, Bedivere retold a story that had been circulating among bards long before the written word.

The adventure started when Bran, son of Fevail, was taking a walk when he heard the sound of a harp. The sweet melody followed him until he was lulled into a dream. Upon waking, a woman stood over him, offering him the branch of an apple tree. He accepted it gladly, believing her to be a kind spirit bestowing harmony and abundance from Avalon, the Isle of Apples.

Bran invited her to that night’s feast with his friends and family. She accepted and they returned home, where she became the life of the party and sang of a distant island. In the Land of Women, the weather was fair, the sunsets were bright, and the stars were bigger than anywhere else. He believed every word she said, and decided the next morning to set sail.

He hired a ship and asked his friends to accompany him. Fortune was with them, and on the third day at sea, a chariot approached across the surface of the water with galloping horses. They were guided by Manannán, son of the sea god Llyr, protector of the Tuatha