There and back again, a journey to love.

Chapter 4 - The journey and the arrival.

    It was the day! It had come at last. No more waiting and hiding like a thief in the shadows, sought out by many who would do Uther's bidding. The dye was cast and the spell prepared. She donned the raven feathered cloak once again suspended a small leather bag from her kirtle. Five phials were contained within, one for the outward journey, one to incapacitate her quarry, another to render him weightless and the last two, for their return. She set out for the crossroads by the mound of the Great Barrow, her chosen departure point, said to be the tomb of Ancient deities. The portents were most favourable at this spot and in the midst of her fear, she took comfort from that.

    Though the path was familiar to her, she guarded her steps, fearful of stumbling and damaging her precious burden. She heard the cries of a distant wolf and tightened her feathered cloak about her, reaching for her dagger, for though a gifted witch, her magic was no defence against a hungry pack. As she hurried onwards, she felt the cold trickle of perspiration down her spine. Her hands and feet were icy, and her body trembled, though the night was warm. Fear and apprehension were coursing through her veins, fear of the unknown, for the journey was not without risk. She was about to take flight forward in time, to snatch a man and steal him back to her own. He was to be her henchman and if she chose right, he would be mercenary and do her bidding, no matter what she asked of him. She must not, and could not, fail!

    Ahead of her she could only see the dim outline of the Ancient Barrow, as the moon was momentarily hidden behind a cloud. She hoped that this was not an ill omen, but then dismissed the thought, for this was to be her place of departure and she was going on an adventure! She found the well worn path which led to the top, where sat a cairn of small stones. Even today, it was regarded as a place of great magic by the local populace, for through the centuries many men and women had added their own small pebble to this cairn. Perhaps a farmer needing healing for a sick cow, a barren woman hoping to be made fecund. The lame, the poxed and the blind, all came, with hearts full of hope, in the belief that this was an enchanted place, and Auriel knew that it was.

    Merlin himself was known to have visited it and was said to have conjured many fearful things there. It was a place of strange visions and imaginings - terrible to those who feared it, but so necessary to those who wished to harness its dark powers. No one knew its age, for it was a place so feared that none dared think of it. Rumours were rife of miraculous healing and fertility restored, and at its centre, there was said to be a great stone into the depths of which a mighty sword had been thrust.

    What was known and had been seen by many, was that, at the time of the full moon, strange lights appeared and the sound of a great wolf pack was heard. Doors and windows firmly barred, the local inhabitants all cowered in their homes and no one ventured abroad, lest they be spirited away. She smiled to herself at their folly, for she had no fear of the dark arts. She held such in her own mind and hands. She stood quietly for several moments atop the Great Barrow and looked out at the surrounding countryside, bathed as it was in bright moonlight.

    The only "spirit" abroad that night was her, for fear kept everyone at home in their beds and she knew she would not be observed, for no one dared to look out. Her hands shaking, she reached into the leather pouch at her waist and brought out one of the phials, checking it was the correct one for she had no wish to meet herself coming back! At the same time she felt for two larger pouches, one containing gold, the other diamonds and other gems for she would need to equip and dress herself, as appropriate, upon her arrival in future time, to allow her to go about her business unnoticed.

    She would find lodgings and observe local customs and dialects. Discretion would be her ally while she waited and watched for her quarry. She placed the phial, unopened atop the cairn, its contents glowing softly within, lowering her hood and raising her arms towards the moon.

    "Spirits of the air, wind and flame," she cried, "come forth and aid me now! I am the daughter of Morgana. Grant me admittance to the great whirlpool of time. Let my feet be as light as air, the four winds favour my journey, and the flame of courage be in my veins. Watch over me and safeguard my return".

    She lifted the phial, unstoppered it and lifted it to her lips. "Courage, courage" she said quietly to herself, even while her spirit feared the outcome. She felt the liquid, icy in her throat, and, even as she swallowed, she rose up, light as a feather and darkness was all around. Then there were colours, more colours than a rainbow and so very bright. There was a great rushing sound and she felt herself falling and spinning, a great screaming in her ears, and she realised they were her own cries, issuing unbidden from her mouth. There was pressure, as of a great weight upon her chest and she fought to free herself from it, but she had not even the strength to raise her own hand. Then darkness surrounded her again and she let out a long gasping breath as eternity caught her in its mighty grasp.

    Then, away in the distance and coming closer with each passing moment, she could see sunlight and hear voices, men squabbling over wagers lost and won.There was the sound of people cheering and the squawking of chickens, women using bawdy language and a strong smell of ale. Her forward motion ended abruptly and she fell downwards, into the mud and animal droppings of a village street. She kept low, partially hidden by the side of a pig pen, its contents splattering and soiling her outer garments and the stench was almost overpowering. Looking around she saw the men she had heard cheering, they were hovering over a deep pit in the ground where two cockerels were busily shrieking, and shredding each other to pieces with the bloodied spurs attached to their legs. She skirted around the men and ran behind the tavern, in front of which two men were fighting noisily in the muck, cursing and wishing the evil eye, each on the other, whilst two gossiping women, obviously whores, stood and watched.

    She leaned against the back of a derelict building to catch her breath, at the same time massaging her temples to ease the pounding of her head. Looking down at her soiled clothing and smelling the foul stench emanating from it, she rolled up her feathered cloak and tossed it behind a pile of rotten wood and other detritus. Looking nervously about her, she saw thatched roofs, atop flimsy wooden walls. The basic materials and design of which appeared to be little changed since her own time. From her hiding place she could see pens containing chickens, pigs and sheep. There were also stalls selling all manner of produce, fruit, meat, vegetables and leather goods. Along the muddy tracks, which obviously passed for roads in this "future" time, were places of commerce, animals and people, all together of a heap. But, judging by their poor clothing, few appeared to have the means with which to pay for any of the goods on display.

    "So," she said to herself, "such is humanity of the future, the poor are ever among us and nothing has greatly changed".

    She could see through some trees to a small river upon which ducks could be seen busying themselves in the way that ducks have, whilst a mangy dog run along the bank chasing some children at their play, and barking loudly. The inhabitants of this poor place appeared poor and ill fed.

    "There is hardship here, as in my own time," she thought, "What of progress? For it is surely not apparent in this place."

But where was she, and more importantly, "when" was she? "Only time will tell", she said to herself, smiling at the play on words.