Druids by Morgan Llywelyn Read Free Book Online Page A

compensate for, his crooked shoulder, Crom Daral was more impressively equipped than either of us. As we accompanied the druids to the forest, however, I could smell fear on him.
    Fear smells like the green rot that eats away bronze.
    We climbed the ridge toward the grove as the sun climbed into the sky. We were not taken to the grove itself; mamnaking took place in a glade on the other side of the ridge. The trees watched
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    us approach. Their arboreal darkness reached out for us; the wet weight of their shade lay heavily upon us.
    Hooded druids and shivering boys came to a halt. Grannus called us each by name, then introduced us each, formally, to Menua, who would conduct the ceremony.
    He called us forward m groups of three. When our turn came, Vercingetorix and I stepped toward him without hesitation, our strides matching perfectly. Crom Daral was half a step behind us.
    The chief druid held out his hand, and Grannus placed a thin, sharp dart of polished bone on his open palm.
    “Men must know they can endure pain,” Menua intoned.
    I had expected something of the sort, but not at the start of the ritual. Though it was worse than I anticipated, I gritted my teeth and endured. When the bone needle entered Crom’s chest skin behind the nipple and came out again, I heard him gasp. Menua had pinched up the skin to avoid having the dart pierce the chest cavity, but the procedure was acutely painful in such a sensitive area.
    Vercingetorix never flinched. A smile lifted the edges of his lips where the warrior’s moustache was already sprouting. “Perhaps they’ll have us demonstrate our prowess with a woman next,” he said out of the side of his mouth to me.
    He was mistaken. Next we were each given a stone and told to place a bare foot on it while water was poured over our outstretched arms. “Stone does not yield,” said Menua. “Thereare times when a man must be like stone. Take the spirit of the stone into yourself.
    ‘ ‘Water does not resist. There are other times when a man must be like water. Take the spirit of the water into yourselves.”
    I closed my eyes obediently and tried to feel like stone; like water. Somewhere between the two I encountered a shifting line that made me queasy. Startled, I opened my eyes.
    “What about women?” Vercingetorix muttered.
    Menua heard him.
    The chief druid whirled on the Arvemian. Thrusting his face into the boy’s, he roared, “You have a confused idea of manhood! Tell me, child with a presumptuous name—if your people were attacked, would you defend them by climbing onto a woman?”
    Several of the watching youths sniggered.
    Vercingetorix took a step backward; Menua was almost on top of him. ‘ ‘Of course not. I ‘d take up a shield and attack the attackers with sword and spear.”
    “Would you?” In the blink of an eye, Menua’s demeanor
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    changed completely. He went from furious to courteous, he be-came a benign fellow calmly seeking information. “Would you really? And would that impress them?”
    Vercingetorix was off balance. Having experienced the chief druid’s disconcerting changes of pace myself, I could almost feel sorry for him. He tried to sound as calm as Menua, but there was a faint stammer in his voice as he replied, “I’m wonderful with sword and spear.”
    “Are you? Isn’t that nice for you.” Menua lifted his bushy eyebrows. Expecting it, I saw him change again. With sudden withering sarcasm, he snarled, “And if you had no weapons, King of the World, how then would you impress your enemies? With empty hands and a mouth full of wind, how could you frighten anybody?”
    He turned away, as if Vercingetorix was no longer worthy of interest. The Arvemian burned red beneath his freckles. I doubted if anyone had spoken to the son of Celtillus in such a way in his life. I wondered if Menua had made an enemy.
    The manmaking resumed as if there had been no interruption.
    We were tested throughout a wearyingly long