who bless your fields and cattle, who protect you from witchcraft and guard your children against the wailing sidhe … the gods who are furious at your obstinacy.”
Mórganthu!
“You have spit in their bright faces. They who have been faithful to you. Turn … turn back!”
Brunyek, the oat farmer, shouted from the crowd. “Eaah! If they’ve been so faithful, why’d my two sheep get killed by wolves last week?”
“If you had been faithful, son of the ancient woods, then the god Kernunnos would have tamed the wolves and made them your friends.”
Merlin held tighter to Ganieda’s hand.
Mórganthu turned and held his arms out to someone in the crowd. “Olva, if you and your husband yet choose the druidic way, then the god Grannos will take your son into his arms and heal him.”
The couple whispered to each other excitedly.
It bothered Merlin to hear this. How did Mórganthu know Olva’s name and that her son was sick?
“And Brioc! I see the fear on your face with another year of uncertainty, debt, and too few lambs born. I proclaim that your crops will flourish and your flocks will thrive if you return and worship Crom Cruach and the great god Taranis again.”
Brioc grunted from Merlin’s right.
“And not least, Stenno.” Mórganthu extended his hands to a young tin miner, his voice growing almost tender. “Your father would not have died and left you destitute if he had worshiped Belornos, protector of all who hew the earth.”
Merlin fumed. Why didn’t anyone speak out against this? These were lies. “Ganieda, are the monks here? Do you see them?”
She grasped his sleeve for balance and stood on her tiptoes. “Can’t see over the people.”
Mórganthu spoke louder. “All who hear my voice, come. Come and seek the druid way. Seek the secret knowledge, wisdom beyond your ken!”
“Where’s Tas? … Do you see him?” Merlin asked his sister.
“No. Just those near the bonfire. It’s too dark everywhere else.”
Mórganthu strode back toward the bonfire. “This! … This is the source of wisdom!” With a flourish, he bent down.
“He threw a leather skin to the side,” Ganieda said. “I can’t see what’s under it, though.”
Merlin knew what was under the tarp but hoped he was mistaken. All the people around him stepped back, and someone’s heel crunched on Merlin’s toes. He backed up as well, then hefted Ganieda up so she was positioned above the crowd. “Tell me what else you see.”
“A rock of some kind, black … no, silver. Oh!”
A blue light appeared, and now even Merlin knew where the Stone lay.
The bonfire seemed to dim. Mórganthu stepped next to the Stone and raised his voice to a crescendo. “This Stone has been given by the god Belornos. He who loves it will be blessed, but he who is found unworthy of it will be destroyed.”
All around Merlin, people dropped to their knees.
“What’s happening?” he asked his sister.
“Men are bowing … They’re all druidow! They’re mixed in with the people.” She shivered as if with excitement, and Merlin set her down with a prayer.
The men raised their hands in homage — he assumed to the Stone. Where are the monks? Merlin wondered. Where’s Prontwon?
Mórganthu spoke again. “Who will be the first among you to join us?” His voice was soothing and inviting.
The druidow rose to their feet as a lone voice spoke up. “I will be first.”
“Good, good. Step forward. Who are you?” Mórganthu asked.
As the man stepped through the crowd to enter the circle, he spoke again. “I will be first, but not to worship your blasphemous Stone. I have come to speak truth.”
Abbot Prontwon!
Prontwon stood before Mórganthu, his voice steady and his stout frame firm.
Mórganthu stepped back and studied the newcomer.
“Yes, I will be the first,” Prontwon called out. “The first to stand against this trickster.”
Mórganthu stepped forward again, but Prontwon continued. “I will show this Stone an idol and this man a liar.”
“You … you call the wrath of the gods upon you!” Mórganthu screeched.
Prontwon turned and faced him. “Your gods are demons from the pit of hell.”
“Do not, I say, do not speak ill of the ruler of the blessed underworld, for Belornos will repay you.”
“There is but one Ruler — the Son of God, Jesu the Messiah — about whom God has sent Holy Scripture into the uttermost parts of the earth by the power of His Spirit and the blood of His saints.”
Merlin felt a cheer rise in his heart at Prontwon’s boldness, but it died on his lips as the crowd remained silent.