Servant of the Moon #1 - unedited draft

Evening Breeze by Adrian von Ziegler

After a year long journey to find her true mate, Merida stood bravely but alone, watching her cousin be mated to the New Wemyss smithy. Hours later, Merida had slipped away from Mary’s mating celebration to sit by the waters of Black Lake. She stared up at the bright moon, wiped her tears, and prayed the Goddess would grant her a way to stay in this land.

The breeze turned and blew the fresh scent of the firs and fields from beyond the lake against her cheek in a comforting caress. The dawn was just beginning to lighten the eastern sky, when she heard a wolf’s steps approach her.

“Go away, Lyall, I am nah in tha mood ta talk abou’ et.”

A deep, rumbling growl had her turning slowly. In the mists of the dark morning, stood the largest red wolf she had ever seen. She knew his fur would look like fire and polished copper in the sunlight, his eyes were as golden as the coming dawn. He was the most beautiful creature she had ever beheld. Tentatively, she reached out a trembling hand to him. He bowed his head to her touch and stepped slowly closer. Fur melted into flesh and tattooed warrior knelt before her.

“Aire ye a real lass or aire ye a spirit?” he whispered breathlessly, catching her hand in his. Tingles raced up her arm to her fluttering heart. She let out the breath she was holding.

“I’m Merida,” she breathed out.

Suddenly, he yanked her to her feet and began to run toward the fort. “Hurry, we still ’ave time.”

Merida almost stumbled on her red tartan cloak but she righted herself, running only a step behind. “Time fur wha’?”

As they rushed into the gate, the warrior bellowed, “Mamó! Father. I found ’er!”

Those who were still celebrating and those who were sleeping roused to the booming shout. Stopping them before the Mating Bower, he looked back to the moon rapidly sinking into the west.

“Thar’s still time.”

“Time fur wha’?” Merida asked again, catching her breath.

“Time fur ye ta be mated ta m’ogha (my grandson), lass,” the old oracle cackled.

“But... but I ‘ave no dress an’ no crown,” Merida protested.

“Ye aire fine dressed in the colors of the clan as our future Luna should be, an’ I ’ave a crown for ye.” The old oracle placed a woven gold crown with white pearl centered flowers on her head.

As the Oracle spoke the words of the mating bond, she cut first the warrior’s palm and then Merida’s before pressing their hands together, and binding them with scarlet silk. Their first kiss was in front of the rejoicing pack, cheers shook the fort to its base. The Moon seemed to linger on the horizon a little longer that morning.

As the moon set, Merida whispered to her mate, “I do nah even kno’ ye name.”

“I em Alpha Ruadimir Wemyss, an’ ye, my beautiful Merida, are mo Luna,” He murmured back as he looks down at her with the promise of love and devotion until death takes them home to the Moon. “Mo Mamó wrote iffen I did nah return this nigh’, I would be grievin’ for all meh days. She said mo true would cross tha sea an’ be gone again. Mo wolf would nah ‘ave it, so we ran all tha way from tha Moon’s Gate an’ I would do et again jus’ ta find ye sittin’ in tha mists by tha Black Lake. I ‘ave loved ye since tha moment Lyall tol’ meh about ye, an’ showed meh yur letters. Thank ye fur waitin’ on meh.”

Merida couldn’t speak. Lyall had known about she and Ruadi the same as she had known about he and Fiona. She glanced over at Lyall, who was grinning like a fox full of hens. Fiona was giggling beside him. They knew and they had set her up for the shock of her young life, but she didn’t care. In the arms of her true mate, nothing else mattered. She could stay, this was her home now.

Mary glared out the window at the happy couple below, this was her Mating Night and Merida had found a way to ruin it. The world war may have ended and brought them here together to find their mates, but the conflict between the cousins would continue. Shaking angrily, Mary vowed revenge for Merida outshining her once again, and a new, more subtle war began.

A few years later, a midwife walked briskly between the two rooms, both held a she-wolf in labor. Best friends delivering their pups on the same night. The full moon of the winter solstice, the first in 19 years, shown silvery and bright on the snow-covered wetlands and forest. The old oracle stood outside the New Wemyss Keep, staring up at the moon, muttering to no one but the Goddess.

Tonight they would be born, the future of this pack and many beyond it, if they both survived. If only one survived the destiny that belonged to them would be passed to another. The time of choosing was here. She knew other Oracles knew what the Moon had shared with her, that they suspected who were being born this night.

The ancient shewolf growled slightly to herself. In the centuries-old pack of the reddish-brown furred royal wolves, an Oracle and her Alpha betrayed their Luna and the Moon’s will. Their son was raised as the infertile Luna’s firstborn. It had been a ruse hidden from many but the Moon and her Seers knew the truth of what had happened, yet many dared not speak against the powerful pack and its influential Oracle.

The Des Rues pack had been started by a dishonored and exiled prince alpha. They had tried over and over to make themselves the wolf royalty of this continent, but each time the claim was thwarted by the Moon Herself through the visions of Her oracles, the work of Her servants, and the hearts of those who served Her. And yet, where arrogance and greed thrive, the power-hungry will find a way through deception.

Nothing can be hidden from the Goddess’ watchful eye. The old oracle knows the unbelievers will come for these two born tonight, and she must live long enough to teach them the Moon’s true ways. She must teach them so they can bring the Moon’s children back to Her in the next generation and build a new kingdom... if they survive.

Two large male wolves approach, distracting her from her musings. Each treading carefully across the icy ground. The old she-wolf smiles, it is customary for newborns to be dedicated to the moon on its fullness after their birth. Since these were born on the full moon, they must be dedicated before dawn, in spite of the December winds. The small bundles the warriors carry carefully are wrapped against the cold. Both males seem more like nervous horses, than Alpha wolves at this moment. One Alpha line serving another, their grandchildren would be the most powerful wolves born in generations, if they survived... IF...

“Máthair chríonna (wise grandmother), we ’ave brought ye tha babes,” the giant, red-bearded Alpha of New Wemyss says respectfully, bending to one knee, followed by his blond Master-of-Arms.

The air becomes strangely still as the ancient oracle lays each of the pups on a prepared table. She dips the small symbol of the moon goddess into silver ink and presses it into the heel of each of the pups. Both cry out in pain and terror, the fathers rise to reclaim their children but before they can, the old one pulls out a silver dagger, cutting each of the children on the palm and binding their hands together with a red silk cord.

“What ’ve ye done, Mamó (granny)?” The blonde asks startled. “Tha Mating ceremony fur two newborns?!?!”

“They be mates, Master-of-Arms. Tha Moon Goddess herself has writ their names on tha other’s soul. Ye can nah stop what will be. If they live, then they shall be tha ones ta lead Our Goddess’ children back ta Her an’ rule this land,” she declares in the stillness of the night.

Both males swallow at the weight of the prophesy, but only the Master-of-Arms has the courage to ask the unspoken what if, “An’ iffen tha’ do nah?”

“Then one shall walk alone until She calls ’em home ’erself, or gives ‘er mercy an’ a boon.”

Their Goddess is a powerful protector but sometimes She closes Her eye and evil happens.The old wolf walks away into the moonlight, nothing stirs, not even the two pups who have fallen asleep holding hands that are bound with a scarlet cord.

IF...

11 Years later...

Two dirty warrior wolves drag two snarling, dirtier children into the Alpha’s office. It is impossible to tell if the juveniles are boys or girls, or if they are even clothed. Angry eyes peer out from mud-caked hair. A large coppery haired and fully bearded male sits behind oversized desk, a giant blonde warrior with a neatly trimmed beard and hair tied back stands on his left.

The warriors and mud-caked children smell like they have rolled in all the corpses of the earth and sea. The Alpha wrinkles his nose in disgust, his Master-of-Arms, raises the back of his hand to cover his face. The stench is eye-watering, and would have a weaker stomach gagging and showing its contents.

“Whey found ’em on tha Frithe, Alpha Wemyss,” the older warrior states.

The younger warrior nods, adding,“Thay were ’alf way ta tha witch’s hume.”

Dirty blond declares in angry boy’s voice, “Mamó is nah a witch, she’s an oracle an’ a healer.”

The warrior gives him a shake for being disrespectful. Angrily, the boy turns his neck bites the warrior’s hand on his shoulder, the Beta howls and shakes the boy harder but neither lets go with either grip nor teeth.

The red-head girl, twist and punched the younger one in the... well that special under-protected man-place, then jumps on the older warrior, growling ferally. She bit his shoulder as he tried to subdue her with his free hand. In a moment, both muddy children are loose and the boy had the warrior in a choke hold while the fiery girl has his arm bent behind his back. He howls in rage and shifts into a dark red wolf, suddenly a juvenile golden wolf is between him and the girl, snarling in challenge.

“ENOUGH!” roars the Alpha as both child and the warrior obediently still. “Aye’ll not ’ave tha stench of swamp-wet dogs en mo office. Shift back now. Master-of-Arms Lyallfr, take these pups and clean ’em before I decide their punishment. Beta Caully restrain your wolf, they be children.”

The muscular, blonde Master-at-Arms takes the filthy children by the arms and drags them toward the door of the room. The boy goes quietly. The girl struggles and growls until the Alpha barks at her. She glares at him angrily from below her mud encrusted red bangs, then she lowers her head and sulks out. She knows her father will only tolerate so much of her defiance.

The large warrior wolf shifts back, the strawberry blonde-haired man snatches his kilt off the floor, wrapping his waist before looking at his dirty, bleeding arms, “Nay Alpha, thay aire nah children, thay be demons, an’ we should leave ’em ta tha witch.”

The giant bearded man stands to his full 7 and a half foot height. The afternoon sunlight behind him making his coppery-red hair and beard appear to be on fire, “Tha’ witch as ye call ‘er, be tha oldest oracle of this lan’ an’ my máthair chríonna, do na’ forget tha’,Beta.”

“Ppht, she es mo máthair chríonna as well, but tha’ does na’ mean she isn’t a witch. Oh, git up Cullen,” Beta Caully snaps.

His 16 year old son struggles to stand, growling under his breath how much he hates his second cousin, the she-demon and her mate. The older men laugh at him, bested by the tiny lass and her faithful wolf again. Someday he’ll learn not to take his eyes off his enemies.

“Luna Merida,” The Master-of-Arms bowed his head respectfully, still holding onto the muddy children, “Tha Alpha has requested these pups be bathed before he punishes ’em.”

The very pregnant brunette laughs, looking at the now subdued pair. “Aye, are ye sure there aire pups under tha’ mud, an’ nah lil’ demons, Master Lyall?”

“‘Tis what tha Alpha claims, but tha Beta an’ his eldest would disagree.” The blonde man grins through his beard. The women in the kitchen laugh and the two dirty children slump more.

A large, surly looking woman named Shauni, waves to him over, before her is a large vat of steaming, warm water and linens. “Put ‘em in here, Master Lyallfr, an’ I’ll beat tha mud off ’em, with mo laundry stick.”

The boy snarls, placing his arm protectively in front of the girl, but then he yelps as his father gives his shoulder a painful squeeze. All women laugh again.

Luna Merida makes a gesture and a girl comes forward, “Go with Ann an’ get ye self cleaned up, nighean (daughter) an’ scrub your ceile (mate), he stinks almost as bad as ye.”

“Mum!” the girl starts.

“Do nah sass with me, Moire. ‘Tis ye an’ Comhnyall’s fault for running off ta Mamó’s when tha Alpha ordered everyone ta stay in tha keep for a reason. Time to take yur salt,” her mother says sternly, holding her daughter’s eyes till she looks away.

“But mum, Mamó is alone, what if tha rogues find ’er?” the girl mutters.

“Then they be fools an’ dead for sure, tha Moon ’erself protects tha Oracle,” Master Lyallfr declares. The women all nod.

Luna Merida points at the brown haired girl again, “Now go, wash ye selves.”

Both sullen pups follow the lass as the Luna calls after them, “An’ ye’ll nah be havin’ any television ’till tha Alpha says yur punishment be done.”

The children’s groans and whines follow them down the hall. She shakes her head, the youth of today so distracted by that ridiculous box, almost as bad as her mate and his radio.

Luna Merida rubs her forehead, sighing heavily under the weight of twin pups and motherhood, “What aire we going ta do with ’em, Lyall?”

Shauni comes to hug her, “’tis nothing ta be done, Luna. Thay were born ta be mates, born on tha same night under tha same full moon. Tha Goddess ‘erself has writ their names on tha other’s souls. Tha máthair chríonna(wise grandmother) said where she leads, he will follow, even into the jaws a’ Grendel and his brothers.”

Master Lyallfr nods, “Aye Luna Merida, Shauni tells true. My Fiona said when he was born, he would be an Alpha who would choose ta let another lead ’im. Luna Moire is more an Alpha than a Luna, she is a warrior and someday she’ll be a queen. And my Comhnyall will make sure thay all bow ta her.”

Luna Merida sighed again, shifting her belly, “I hope they live long enough.”

“Do nah worry, Merida. We may be few, but the wolves of New Wemyss be tha strongest warriors in this land. They be safe to fulfill what tha Moon has writ for ’em to be.”

“I hope ye be true, Lyall. Tha wolves of this land ‘ave ne’r had a king an’ queen, I cain’t help meh worry.” She responds softly.

Friends for years before they met and discovered the other’s best friends were their mates. She wants to believe his words, wants to believe their children are safe. Many wolves want to bring the monarchy to this land as in the old countries but it has not been accomplished yet. Royals, living in this land in exile, believed they alone had the rights to rule simply by their pedigree and not by the Moon’s will.

Yelling and complaining drifted down the hall and she pushes herself to her feet. “I better be checking on tha lil’ demons, tis sounds like thay be givin’ Ann trouble.”

The Luna wanders through the stone and cedar halls of the great pack house, generations have waited for her daughter and her mate. Silently, she prays for them. The Moon Goddess is a powerful but a fickle protector, sometimes She closes Her eye and tragedy comes in the dark of the moon.

Merida wishes her best friend were still alive to share this joy and burden with her but Fiona had gone to walk the moon, sent early by those who wished to kill their children, when Moire and Comhnyall were just three and a half. Lyallfr held on to train Comhnyall and to protect Moire. The prophecy left much uncertain and that bothered Merida. But Mamó was certain of one thing; other packs would continue to attack them, trying to kill or steal the Moon’s chosen pair.

Many Alphas wanted for their children what had been offered the children of the stone cave warriors. The New Wemyss wolves would rule this land, and return the wolves to the ways of the Moon. If they survived.