The Passing Bell Tolls for Thee

26 Closing the Portal

The King's Oak Druids sat around the living room at the Lodge on December 21, Yule for the Druids, the Winter Solstice, the longest night, when the Holly King declines, and the Oak King strengthens. The night was dark already, though it was just past five o'clock. A small Yule log burned in an aluminum tray in the hearth.

Boris Smithson filled a small cup with weak cider from the Wassail Bowl Mrs. Bigwood had set out. "To Yule," he said, raising his cup and sipping. The other druids followed his lead. He set his cup on a coaster. "My fellows, our grove tonight is vital. Estelle,"(he nodded at Mrs. Bigwood, who nodded back, "has confirmed the border marked by the Oak was opened, and Hydd himself is roaming free."

The druids nodded and murmured in agreement. Some looked in their empty cups and glanced at the Wassail Bowl. "No more Wassail until we finish tonight's grove. Then we will return the bell here and have a small celebration." The group nodded.

"Estelle, will you remind the group of what we must try to do this Yule?"

Mrs. Bigwood stood up. "At Lugnasadh, it seems, the bell was lost by Sir Drew. Perhaps he tried to summon Hydd himself, for some reason."

Arthur Green raised his hand.

"Yes, Arthur?" asked Mrs. Bigwood.

"Estelle, and Boris, you are aware of the old stories that Hydd can give you another life. Rumors. Sir Drew was old, and we know how he felt about Oakton. He had no heirs. He left the farm to Mrs. Waverly, and most everything else to Mr. Muir."

"Those are legends, Arthur," said Boris. He shook his head.

"Aye, even so. Me Grandad, who was Archdruid in his day, believed Hydd could change lives. Let you live again, if you paid him, life for life."

The druids murmured, shifting in their seats. They looked at each other.

"We know a couple of people disappeared around the time the old Master died. Mark Musselwhite, lately. We were friendly. I'd known him and Stella since school days."

"Go on," said Estelle.

"Just to say we should be very careful. We know Hydd takes lives, human if he can get them, but animal, too. If the portal was breached at Lugnasadh, perhaps a soul offered to him escaped, too. Never heard of that happening, before. Estelle says there is something walking around the Lodge, since Lugnasadh."

Mrs. Bigwood studied the flames of the Yule log for a minute. "True. There's sommat walking here, and it seems to be after the Mistress." She looked around the group. "She's in London tonight, so she's safe for a while. I don't know about more lives, but the dog and the llama are guarding against something."

"Fair enough," said Boris. "We'll call back all that fled the other world. Be careful, everyone. Where is Mr. Muir, Estelle? Shouldn't he help?"

"He left me the bell, out of the safe, and went home for the night," she answered. "Said he'd talk to us in the morning. We'd best get on with it. Night's here."

Arthur poked the Yule log down to a glow. The druids piled into golf buggies and drove to the path leading to King's Oak.

***

Archdruid Boris Smithson stood by the flat stone in the King's Oak clearing as the druids assembled. He and Estelle talked quietly as they waited for the last of the members to arrive.

A few of the druids worked setting the lights that would illuminate the clearing as night had fallen and the nearly full moon was hidden by clouds. "Baaaaaaw!" A seven-month-old ram lamb bleated for its ewe as a druid tied its lead to a tree trunk.