The Last Druid Standing: The Ring of Brodgar

By Dr. Larry S. Mellen

Occasionally, Mother Earth realizes what a mess we have made of the planet. When this happens, there are mass extinction events that allow evolution to start over. Seventy-seven thousand years ago, a supervolcano in Sumatra, Indonesia, called Toba erupted. It is one of the earth’s largest known explosive eruptions. This eruption caused a genetic bottleneck, nearly ending all human life on earth. The survivors should have been a small band of Druids and a nonhuman species called the Urus.

According to Druid legends, a group called the Protectors gathered about five hundred humans. They allowed them to survive in a remote corner of Africa. The survivors of the Toba eruption caused an environmental catastrophe on this planet. This is not their story. This is the story of what happened to the Urus and the small band of Druids. It contains glimpses of the utopia this planet should have become.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Page Publishing, Inc.
• Release date: Feb 1, 2022
• ISBN: 9781662455797

Book preview

Chapter 1

A Council of Elders

Trust the Elemental Magic; When it is darkest, it will guide you.

—Lazwin the Elder

As my apprentice, Kennerly and I sat in the Old Man of Storr’s shadow. I remembered all the trials and tribulations she and I had been through recently. More importantly, I knew the responsibilities of our newly acquired knowledge of the Elemental Magic carried. We had come to ask the Old Man to help Kennerly in her quest to become a Master Druid. The Old Man of Storr was a wizened obsidian pinnacle of rock. This singular stone had been standing sentinel over Loch Leathan for as long as there was history and probably for much longer than anyone could imagine.

The Old Man was quiet as he considered our question. His answers were always cryptic; they weren’t verbal answers. They came to you as thoughts or feelings. Some of the wisest of the wise say the Old Man never replied, but I knew better. A look from his unyielding surface or a glint of light off his towering presence would tell me all I needed to know.

Kennerly pulled down her hood and brushed her long blond hair away from her face. Her Scandinavian features were striking, and she carried herself with quiet confidence. My apprentice was an impressive figure in her deep purple Druid’s robes. Druids carry themselves in ways to express their station in life, and she had learned this much.

Master Druid, I know why we have come to see the Old Man of Storr. We are here to seek guidance, but what am I supposed to do right now? Kennerly asked with concern in her voice.

Kennerly, there is no right answer. It is different with everyone who approaches him for advice. Relax, close your eyes, and reach out for the wisdom of the Old Man of Storr, I said. Don’t try to do or feel anything. You need to sit there, and the answers will come to you.

I can hear very faint voices but can’t make out what they are saying. Do you think this is what I am supposed to hear? Kennerly asked in an unsteady voice.

Don’t try to feel or hear anything. Don’t try to anticipate things. It is always better to take whatever the Old Man gives you and close your eyes. Let the feelings flow from the Old Man’s core, I said. Now wait, relax, and feel what you feel.

Kennerly closed her deep blue eyes. She looked slightly nervous but at peace with the world at the same time. Her expression suddenly changed. Kennerly passed from peaceful countenance to a visage of serenity. She was with the Old Man; I am sure she could feel the wisdom of the Old Man’s obsidian stone waistcoat flowing through her. She opened her azure eyes; they were clear and bright. Kennerly looked directly at the Old Man of Storr and said with conviction in her voice, I can feel what you feel. I can see what you see. I now know what you know. I can understand what you understand; the training I need from you is inside me; it always has been there. I simply never saw it so clearly.

Kennerly closed her eyes again and placed both of her hands on the Old Man’s cold dark surface. The moment she touched the obsidian stone, Kennerly and the Old Man were engulfed in a blue-white type of ball lightning. The air crackled with the sounds of static electricity, and all the wildlife on Loch Leathan seemed to hold its breath. Suddenly everything the Old Man had seen for countless millennia was there for Kennerly to see. Kennerly breathed deeply as the knowledge of the past and of the future flowed to the dark recesses of her mind.

Kennerly stood perfectly still for nearly an hour with her hands pressed against the Old Man’s cold surface. When she finally let go, she fell backward into my waiting arms. Kennerly’s complexion, which was usually pale, was now ashen. She was breathing very shallow but controlled breaths. I kept her close and waited until the effects of the visit to the Old Man wore off.

I had my first contact with the Old Man when I was only a boy. It was both enlightening and frightening. I was filled with every emotion possible, but I was by myself, and no one was there to catch me when I fell away from his obsidian surface. I was both full and drained emotionally, mentally, and physically. When finally let go, I ended up falling into the cold midwinter’s waters of Loch Leathan. I think the shock of the cold water kept me from drowning. This was undoubtedly one way to recover from an encounter with the Old Man. Now, as I thought back on my choice, coming alone was not the best choice I could have made, but I learned.

We waited at the base of the Old Man for another hour before Kennerly’s first rubbery-legged attempt to stand on her own. It was almost comical as her attempt to stand failed. She did succeed in pushing me into Loch Leathan. It may have been midsummer, but Loch Leathan was still very cold.

We waited another thirty minutes while I dried my robes before I helped her to her feet. Kennerly tried to talk, and I said, Wait, we will talk when we get you safely home, and you have your hands wrapped around a nice mug of Earl Grey tea.

We walked in the early evening’s moonlight, my apprentice and I, along Loch Leathan’s windy shore in silence. There was a comforting blue-white light following us as we walked. The silence lasted most of the way back to Kennerly’s small cabin. There was so much information for Kennerly to grasp, and there were simply no words to describe her new feelings. It seemed if anyone could understand what Kennerly had experienced with the Old Man, I could. It had not been long since I went through the same experience. Even now, I was not sure I could explain everything I experienced.

When we arrived at Kennerly’s small comfortable cabin, someone, probably my gran, had placed a large plateful of tarts on her table to greet us. Our hidden benefactor even put a nicely warmed kettle near the fireplace. You have a bit of food, and try to get some rest, I said. We have time to talk about what happened later.

Please sit in the big chair by the fire, Kennerly said as she pulled back the hood of her purple robes, revealing her long golden hair. She placed the rest of her apprentice robes on a table near the fireplace and poured two cups of tea.

I put my still slightly soggy robes near the fire and then followed Kennerly’s instructions. I sat in the chair, and Kennerly sat beside me and tightly held my hand. The firelight was reflected in her moist expression-filled eyes. I am not certain what we are going to do or if the Council of Elders will grant my petition to become a Master Druid; I only know wherever you are going, I am going to be with you, Kennerly said. I don’t comprehend what has happened to us in the past several months, but I believe we are always going to be a team.

I know the time spent with the Old Man of Storr can be very unsettling, I said. I am not sure how the Old Man does it, but it is impossible to come away from a visit with him without exploring the darkest parts of your soul. It has been many years since I sat with the Old Man, and still, the meaning of some of the information I heard during our encounters remains a mystery.

Kennerly walked over to the fireplace and stood for a moment, enjoying its warmth. She lifted the antique teakettle from the hob. Kennerly placed the warm pot off to one side. Kennerly joined me in the overstuffed chair and put her slightly trembling head against my shoulder. The Old Man showed me a lot of things which I did not understand, Kennerly said. I will try to capture what I can recall in our journal.

Do the best you can. There was so much information exchanged tonight. Try to piece together the things which make some sense, I said. For the rest of what you saw, you should write what you remember, and don’t try to figure out what it meant.

I know you are right, said Kennerly. It is possible some of what I saw were scenes from some of my past lives, or maybe they were from future events. I am not sure exactly what I saw when I was in contact with the Old Man. There were things which I found disturbing, but it was mostly the loneliness of my life. Some parts seemed so empty. I seemed to have a real purpose now.

You should try to relax for the rest of the evening. It will be morning soon enough. We will go see Mother Oak tomorrow, I said and pulled Kennerly a little closer. She will have some advice I believe we both can use.

I was not sure Kennerly heard the last few words. She had peacefully taken the journey to the Land of Nodd.

Our early Druid ancestors had always considered the oak tree as revered. Many of the old ceremonies and religious rituals were carried out under the scrutiny of trees in the oak forests. The term Druid meant knowing the oak tree in ancient Celtic. While there may be as many as six hundred varieties of the deciduous oaks, there was only a single tree we were interested in meeting. Kennerly and I were going to pay a visit to the most revered of the species, the Skye Red Oak. This individual, Skye Red Oak, I had known most of my life. I knew her as Mother Oak. Mother Oak was rare among her species, for though it was not uncommon for a Skye Red Oak to reach three or four hundred years old, she was reportedly about seven thousand years old. She may have even been slightly older, but it was impolite to ask a lady her age.

We rested during the day. We tried to capture the impressions and thoughts from the encounter the night before in the pages of our journal. We had been discussing and journaling for several hours when we noticed the late afternoon sun had been eclipsed by the perpetual cloud bank, which covered most of Skye. This was the way of Hebridean weather.

The cloud cover over the island would be complete before we went to seek the counsel of Mother Oak. Mother Oak wore her years well, and I would describe her abundant foliage as elegant. She carried herself with confidence, and to anyone who was able to communicate with her, Mother Oak made you feel like you were with family. As we approached, we were overcome by a heartfelt comfortable feeling. The only sounds which were disturbing the late afternoon were Mother Oak squeezing the moisture from a few of her branches. The branches dropped on the ground next to us. Soon we had built a small fire to ward off the cool breeze blowing in from the Minch.

My children, I know what you two have come to discuss with me, Mother Oak said without any preamble. The Village Elders will be here shortly and will offer Kennerly some difficult choices. I have little advice to offer you apart from trust your intuition; it has guided the two of you through many places and given you the insight to face challenges which most of us cannot envision. You two will be facing some impossible situations, and you must be prepared to confront them. One thing you must always remember; you have no other choice; put your trust in each other and allow the wisdom of your acquired trust to guide your actions.

Kennerly stood about ten feet from Mother Oak and stared up into her ample foliage. During my visit with the Old Man of Storr, I was shown many things. Several of them were very frightening, Kennerly said. I don’t understand much of what the Old Man showed me.

I don’t think the Old Man meant for you to understand everything now, but I believe you will understand things when you are ready. This is the nature of what he does. You see all the stressful events first, and then all your life events fill in around them, Mother Oak said.

Some of the things he showed me about my life, I do not remember, Kennerly said.

The problem you have is you are an immortal. You are constantly reborn. As a result, you have many past lives. There simply wasn’t time for the Old Man to fill in the good things around the stressful and uncomfortable events. The Old Man eventually concludes the session by allowing you to watch a highlight reel of your life; for most people, these highlights would not have taken long, but unfortunately, your life is complex and stretches over such a long time. I believe the Old Man barely had time for the lowlights.

I had no inkling what to expect from my encounter. It is not like the Old Man of Storr comes with an instruction manual, Kennerly said. What you are describing to me makes sense. When you do a past life regression, the things with the strongest memories always appear first. I guess I realized what being an immortal really means. I have lived many different lives. I have some strong memories from each life.

If you had maintained the mental connection with the Old Man longer, maybe you would have gotten to some of your great accomplishments, I said. But I am not sure you would have survived the connection. I think the Old Man allows you to stay connected until you cannot absorb any more information.

Child, I know the things I have told you do not come close to answering all your questions, said Mother Oak. I don’t have the answer for many of the questions which are now forming inside you, but I am certain you and the Master Druid will learn these answers on your quest.

Kennerly walked forward and put her arms around Mother Oak’s massive trunk and held on tightly. It appeared Mother Oak was hugging back. Kennerly quietly sat down beside me; the fire seemed to roar its approval in front of us.

Kennerly asked many questions, and Mother Oak and I tried to answer them. Tell me about Craaggh, Kennerly asked. I saw him in many of the visions the Old Man showed me. He was never a central character in the event. He was more of a sideman giving out clues.

I have known Craaggh all my life, said Mother Oak. He was there to care for me when I was a sapling and was the first person with whom I was able to establish some form of communications.

The story of Craaggh is shrouded in mystery. I know he is incredibly old, and he was around more than seventy-seven thousand years ago. The reason I am sure of this is I know he gave advice to the Cherokee Indians. He helped them as they went underground for shelter from the supervolcano eruption, I added.

I know his form of a Raven is only the projection of a pandimensional being into this four-dimensional space, Mother Oak said. I also believe Craaggh was trapped off-world with the Protectors when his universe ended, and they placed him on the only planet on which he had a chance of survival. While not a perfect fit, the planet had a sufficient quantity of Argon for him to breathe, and the temperatures were a little cooler than he was used to but within an acceptable range.

Everything from this point forward remains a mystery, but Craaggh does seem to be in many of the legends, I said. If he appears in forms other than a Raven, he may be in many more.

While we talked, the clouds had retreated, and the night sky was in full view when we heard noises around us. Kennerly and I watched as a blue-white light from a star on the shoulder of the Greater Dog seemed to light the pathway for the Village Elders as they made their way from Portree. The Elders were a wizened group of Portree residents, who had many hundreds of years of experience between them. They reverently gathered beneath the ample boughs of Mother Oak.

There hadn’t been a meeting of the Village Elders since before I began my first Druid quest. Even though it was late, the entire village seemed to be in attendance. Most of the village residents crowded around the Elders to listen to their discussions about Mistress Kennerly’s request to become a Master Druid. A few individuals slipped unnoticed back into the night. Within a few minutes, the group became unusually quiet. While this gathering never had an official meeting notification, my gran became aware of the meeting, and her gossip network spread the news faster than British Telecom.

Mother Oak, a broad-leaved Skye Red Oak Tree, had watched over the residents of Portree village for as long as the village existed. Mother Oak seemed to rustle her branches to get everyone’s attention. When most people were listening, she spoke, Children, I am glad to see so many of you here this now pleasant evening. Nearly everyone from the village thought Mistress Kennerly was important enough to lend her their support. It makes these old branches proud to know we care so much for our new family. I don’t believe I need to remind the council about the fact. We have not had a woman request both a Druid’s challenge and a quest since the time Lazwin the Elder walked among us. I was a mere sapling then, and it is an honor to be asked to act as your council’s chair.

Professor Rumpole—a man as old as time itself, or so it seemed—stood and faced the assembled crowd. An expression in the village, This is as old as Rumpole, was used to describe anything ancient. There was a time the professor may have been quite a handsome man, but now he was gaunt and showing his age. It seemed as if the professor had stepped off the pages of a 1930s-era magazine cover. The professor wore a long tweed jacket with wide lapels, which were pinched in at the waist. He wore his school tie from Cambridge and a small gray hat with a tiny raised fist embroidered on the bill. The fist was clasping a sword; I knew this was the coat of arms of Lazwin the Elder.

The professor said, Mother Oak, I would like to bring this special council meeting to order. The Elders have two tasks to complete tonight to decide if Mistress Kennerly should be allowed to seek the privileged position of Master Druid. If she accepts, we have a special request from the Protectors. The current Master Druid will present the case for Mistress Kennerly’s petition for the Master Druid position. No one has asked to speak against this petition. If anyone is interested, it is your last chance; does anyone wish to speak to the council before they make their determination?

The crowd murmured but seemed to agree among themselves. No one spoke up. The professor waited a few minutes for some small discussions within the crowd to end. The muffled voices were replaced by an excited silence.

Professor Rumpole took the lack of response to be a no and spoke, I will assume your silence means no one wants to speak, then continuing, if Mistress Kennerly is accepted, we will select the task or tasks which she must attempt in her quest. There is one more person who will be joining us for this evening, the Protector, Iceni.

Iceni, a shape-shifting pandimensional Protector, stepped from Mother Oak’s shadows. You were never sure what Iceni would choose as her costume. At the moment, she appeared in the guise of a Victorian-era sorceress. She looked more like the steampunk version of the sorceress, wearing a knee-length leather open coat and a plumed hat. To top off her ensemble, she had selected waist-length bright purple hair. Without a word, she took her seat next to Uncle Ash.

Uncle Ash was a striking figure, and he was never without his wizard’s robes and tall pointed hat. Fully dressed in his hat, he was nearly seven feet tall. His long flowing hair was almost silver; and his graying beard, as usual, was tucked firmly into his belt. He and Iceni looked like a very odd pair of bookends.

Professor Rumpole spoke, If Mistress Kennerly is allowed to seek the position of Master Druid, we must wait for her decision to accept the quest. If she accepts the position and the quest, then Mistress Iceni will address the council. It is her intention to present an unprecedented appeal. She will ask Mistress Kennerly and the Master Druid be available to aid in the earth’s Protectors’ special mission.

I stood and faced the council members and said, I will try to be brief. I believe our clan has gone too long without a Master Druid, and at this pivotal time, we would consider it negligent if we did not look at all viable candidates for the position of Master Druid. Mistress Kennerly has volunteered for this position and understands the self-sacrifices and responsibilities this position carries. She has worked by my side for more than seven months as we collected vital information about the Elemental Magics. We were faced with numerous challenges along the way. We were up for each of the encounters this journey of discovery placed in our path. I believe Mistress Kennerly is every bit my equal and feel she should have every opportunity to succeed.

I paused for a heartbeat and cleared my throat before I continued, My only reservation in this entire process has been finding qualified teachers who can help Kennerly learn this craft. This is not an exact science, and I have no idea what skills Kennerly must learn. I have looked over the available instructors and found there are none specifically dedicated to her training. Before I give my endorsement, I would like to ask each of the council members. Will you be willing to give the time and, more importantly, your expertise when needed to help with Mistress Kennerly’s training? I will only call on you when there is no other option. Can I count on you when I feel there is a need for this service?

Professor Rumpole stood once again and spoke first, Many of the things I held to be true have, in recent years, turned out to be incorrect based on the findings of your work and the efforts of Mistress Kennerly. The knowledge I have gained from your quests has been invaluable, and I have passed this on to my students. I have even had to regrade a few exams and alter my old lesson plans. The knowledge this quest will bring is vital. I will be delighted to help with anything I might be able to do. My time is your time, and my answer is an unqualified yes.

My uncle Ash stood to his near seven-foot height. He looked down at the assembled crowd and spoke next. He said, "I was fortunate to be part of the Wind’s crew who brought Mistress Kennerly to our home from Scandinavia when both of her guardians passed. Kennerly is as close to a child as I will ever have. Her contributions to the understanding of Elemental Magic are invaluable. I am filling the void in the essential oils lab since my brother Joe died. I will make all the changes in my schedule to have time available. When called upon, I will share with my child, Mistress Kennerly, all the knowledge I have gained in my lifetime. My answer is an unreserved yes."

Headmaster McKay, an elderly and quite a handsome man, spoke next. He looked exactly how you would expect a Scottish Headmaster to appear. Dr. McKay was in his school’s Headmasters uniform of a double-breasted pin-striped suit, a matching waistcoat, and an apricot-colored ascot. The Headmaster commanded attention everywhere he went. While he was older than he looked, I was sure the Headmaster was not as old as Rumpole, or at least he didn’t look as old.

With bright eyes and an even smile, he stood and walked directly in front of Kennerly and held her gaze. He said, Child, you are the salvation of this clan. Our fate lies with you and the Master Druid. The information you have provided has changed the course of Druid history and given us new insights into our past. You were never one of my students, but I could not be any prouder of you if you were. Whatever I can do to help you with your education, I will be glad to do it. The training you need will be my top priority; my answer is yes.

With a little prodding from my uncle Ash, my uncle Reg stood and spoke next. Uncle Reg was a powerfully built Geordie coal miner. He gave the appearance of barely fitting into his six-foot-four-inch frame. Uncle Reg’s hulking figure was scary, but he was a gentle giant and would not harm a soul.

He wore his uniform of the day, a generously cut pair of coal miner’s overalls and a rakishly angled Arsenal cap. The only thing more unwavering than his love for Mistress Kennerly was his support for the team he called God’s Football Team—Arsenal. Uncle Reg, a man of few words, was a little more to the point and said, I am not sure what an old Geordie coal miner can bring to this esteemed group, but yes, I will do what I can to help Mistress Kennerly with anything.

My uncle Norman was the last to address the group. Uncle Norman was a typical sailor, and he was a little shorter than my uncle Reg but equally imposing. Norman had tattoos covering his body from head to toe. Norman also wore a single gold earring. I asked him once about the reason for his earring, and he told me sailors wore earrings for many reasons. He also said young sailors were given a golden earring to honor their first equator crossing. Or perhaps they received it when they rounded the terrifying waters of Cape Horn. I even heard the golden earring contained enough gold to see them adequately buried if they washed overboard. And Uncle Norman would tell these and dozens of other stories if you asked him about his earring.

He looked directly at Kennerly as he addressed the council and said, I am getting on in years, and Clestor, my first mate, has agreed to help me with all the things a sailor can teach a princess. We will do all we can. My answer is yes.

Clestor was a younger carbon copy of Uncle Norman. He had a quick wit and was always sporting a smile. I always felt better when I was around him. He looked up at Kennerly and nodded his head in agreement. Clestor had discovered Kennerly in a white basket in an old cemetery in Scandinavia. He had always looked after her and paid for her to attend college. The smile he always wore was even broader than usual. Although it was never spoken, he considered Kennerly his daughter and was always in the background when she needed anything.

Finally, Mother Oak spoke to the crowd, I speak for myself, Finn, and the Old Man of Storr. We are all in and would love to be a part of Mistress Kennerly’s training. She will need many friends to help her if she is to be successful; our collective answer is yes. I cannot overemphasize how important Mistress Kennerly needs support from the entire community. We are her family, and every one of you should do what you can to assist her in this quest.

Finn was my great-great-grandfather and was currently trapped in a time bubble in the souterrain at Tungadale, which is one of the oldest sacred locations on Skye. But his opinions were always valuable, and he has been providing me with guidance since the beginning of my first quest. People who attained the status of Master Druids did not die; their spirits were always available for consultation.

Iceni sat quietly and watched. She did not say a word. I said, With this support team behind me, our quest cannot fail. With your help, I would be honored to teach my sister, my confidant, and my best friend all I know and assist her in the quest for more knowledge.

The townsfolk came to life and let out a small nervous cheer. Everything was silent for an instant, and then the crowd went wild. Mother Oak tolerated the celebration for a few minutes. Finally, she rustled her branches to get everyone’s attention. It did not work as well as it had earlier, but she got the point across. Slowly the crowd settled down, and it was quiet once again.

I would like to address the Council of Elders, Iceni said. Following the Toba volcano eruption seventy-seven thousand years ago, the Protectors may have made a mistake. Life was barely starting to get a strong foothold on your planet, and to be honest, we panicked and may have acted with too much haste. There were no other places with sentient beings in all the universes. We were afraid to lose your planet’s presentient life, so we made a judgment call. It turned out I am certain our judgment call might have been wrong.

Please continue, Professor Rumpole said.

Iceni continued, We may have unknowingly changed your planet’s natural selection process and not allowed the dominant and most advanced lifeform, the Urus, to survive. As part of Mistress Kennerly’s quest, I would like you to consider asking Mistress Kennerly, with the aid of our new Master Druid, to find any of the Urus tribes who may have survived the escape from their last colony at the Ring of Brodgar. We have reason to believe a few Urus lived and are now in hiding around the Hebrides. I would like to propose Mistress Kennerly finds, then gathers the Urus if they will come. Then we will relocate them to some place safe so they may continue to evolve. It is hard to imagine what this planet would be like without our interference; we would like to try to restore the planet to its natural course of evolution.

You are capable of doing many things, Professor Rumpole said to Iceni. Why don’t you simply scan the earth for the Urus survivors and gather them yourselves?

We can’t find the Urus, Iceni explained. They have blended in with the general animal population. We have not been able to determine how to locate them. We believe the Master Druid and Mistress Kennerly will be able to find them.

Mistress Iceni, your request is a little unusual, but we do have a team of very uniquely qualified Druids, Professor Rumpole said. If anyone can do what you asked, I believe it will be this pair.

I know this request does not follow your formal council protocol, but these are special circumstances they will influence Kennerly’s journey, Iceni said.

As always, Iceni, you have given the Council of Elders much to discuss, said Professor Rumpole. If you will all excuse us, we need a little time for this discussion.

The professor turned to the crowd and announced, The council will step away for a few minutes and discuss these matters.

The council did not actually move; instead, everyone drifted away to give them some space to talk among themselves. A few people went back to town, relying on my gran’s gossip network to spread the results of the council’s decision. They were sure they would get the news faster than the British Broadcasting Corporation could broadcast the results.

Kennerly and I sat and watched as the extremely animated conversations occurred between the various council members. We watched as they passed a wooden staff around and as their arms moved in unison. We think they were discussing the merits of Iceni’s proposal, or they were trying to club one another with the wooden staff. You could hear the occasional word come from the council, but most of their communication seemed to be nonverbal. The council was like this for more than an hour before they reconvened.

When the council was ready to talk, Mother Oak rustled her branches to get everyone’s attention. Those townsfolk who had not gone home gathered to hear the results. The crowd milled about for a few moments and then took their seats.

Professor Rumpole spoke, "I need to be honest; we all had some spirited differences of opinion about the merits of cleaning up the mistakes made by the Protectors nearly eighty thousand years in the past. There were those among us who felt the council was overstepping our bounds; they felt by asking Mistress Kennerly to take on a task, which was not part of the Master Druid qualification process, was overstepping their authority.

Others on the council favored following the long-standing traditions and keeping a more conventional approach to becoming a Master Druid. The only thing the council was able to agree upon was the Master Druid would be responsible for the training of our new Master Druid-to-be, Mistress Kennerly.

There was a general murmur of happiness in the crowd. Kennerly held on to my arm.

Professor Rumpole silenced the crowd with one of his Professor Rumpole looks and said, What we did not agree on was the subject of the Druid quest. After some rather spirited debates, we have come up with a compromise. He turned to Kennerly and said, Mistress Kennerly, we will ask you to find the Urus who are hiding in the Hebrides and attempt to reunite their tribe. If you prove to be successful, we would assist in relocating them to a place of relative safety. We will offer to move any Urus who may wish to be relocated, but we will not force anyone to move who might choose to remain where they are located.

Kennerly said, I understand and accept this task. I will do my best to find the Urus.

Professor Rumpole turned back to the murmuring crowd and said, However, this does not mean Mistress Kennerly can abandon the normal Druid’s quest. She must do this in addition to the normal duties associated with the Druids quest.

Kennerly said, I understand and accept whatever the council agrees should be on the Druid’s quest.

Professor Rumpole turned to Kennerly once again and said, Mistress Kennerly, you must also visit several sacred ancestral Druid sites as determined by the Master Druid. These sites must include the Stone Ring of Callenish, Dun Carloway Broch, and a visit to the Truiseil Stone.

Professor Rumpole then turned back to Kennerly and, after a few moments of silence, said, Mistress Kennerly, are these conditions for your quest acceptable to you?

Kennerly stood with her body close to mine and, with a slightly shaky voice, replied, Very much so. I cannot imagine a more suitable way to show respect to my new family than accept your quest and all the terms which you have given the task. With the aid of the Master Druid, we will attempt to find and relocate any remaining Urus tribe members who wish to be relocated. I will visit whichever sites the Master Druid selects and learn what I can there. I will keep an accurate journal so whatever knowledge I gain can be shared by all.

The meeting broke up and turned into a Congratulations, Kennerly moment. One by one, the people left the cover of Mother Oak and walked back toward the village; soon, there was only Iceni and Professor Rumpole remaining.

Iceni said, Thank you, Kennerly. Setting this right is particularly important to the Protectors. I think if we had not meddled, the Urus, who were already thriving, would have continued their evolution. Finding them will not be easy. We have not had contact with a single member of the tribe since they left the Ring of Brodgar nearly four thousand years in the past. There were a few spotted, but they did not have the sentient quality which separates the Urus from the bovine.

Professor Rumpole sat beside Kennerly and looked directly at me as he said, This is a Speaking Staff. It was given to me by your great-great-grandfather Finn. I believe the staff was given to him by Iceni when the Rune Casters’ feud threatened to rip the druid tribes’ fragile peaceful existence apart. It was given to him when he tried a last-ditch summit on Mull to reunite the different rune houses under a single clan.

I am familiar with this staff, I said. "This was the method also