Chapter 19

Winter Solstice

The warm, spicy aroma of cinnamon mingled with the clean scent of pine as Ulla helped Laudine wrap evergreen garlands around the supportive pillars in the expansive Great Hall of le Chateau de Landuc . Above the two enormous hearths where crackling fires warmed the vast chamber against the mid-December chill, evergreen boughs with pinecones, berries, and fragrant cloves added to the festive ambiance. With the help of cheerful servants, the two women were finishing the castle decorations in preparation for the Yuletide holidays, which would begin with the Winter Solstice celebration and Lukaz’ birthday, and culminate with the glorious Twelfth Night wedding on Three Kings’ Day, la Fête des Rois .

Laudine’s daughter-in-law Gabrielle had arrived several days ago with her royal entourage from Finistère, bringing her four children to le Chateau de Landuc to spend the holiday season with their grandparents. Soon, Gabrielle’s husband Bastien and father King Guilllemin would be arriving to celebrate Lukaz’ birthday—and Gabrielle and Bastien’s wedding anniversary—on the Winter Solstice.

Ulla’s sumptuous red velvet wedding gown was complete, the tailor had finished Cardin’s magnificent gold velvet tunic and black woolen breeches, and the village goldsmith had properly sized the two wedding rings. Everything was ready for the glorious Twelfth Night wedding.

But Ulla could not shake the foreboding premonition that something was terribly wrong. Cardin needed her. She could feel it in her very bones.

“ En garde !” The voice of ten-year-old Gunnar reverberated through the cavernous Great Hall as he engaged his younger brother Haldar in a mock battle with wooden swords and shields.

“All knights must train outside in the lists, not inside the castle.” Gabrielle—who had joined Laudine and Ulla in decorating the Great Hall—laid down the white hellebore blossoms she was tucking into a holiday wreath and shooed her two oldest sons toward the imposing front entrance door.

“I’m going to be a castle archer, like my father.” Lukaz nocked a fletched arrow, tautly drawing back the string of his finely crafted bow, as if to demonstrate his already impressive skills.

Curiosity evident on their intrigued young faces, Gunnar and Haldar stopped in the doorway and turned to watch Lukaz exhibit his fine form.

“My papa is the Basati, the Basque Wolf of Biarritz. But he’s not going back to Aquitaine. He’s staying here in Bretagne. With me. And bringing me with him to le Chateau de Beaufort after he marries Lady Ulla.” Expressive blue eyes widened with pride, he grinned triumphantly at his older cousins. “My father is Sir Cardin de Landuc. Captain of the Royal Archers for King Guillemin of Finistère. When he marries Lady Ulla, the three of us will be a family, and we will live together at le Chateau de Beaufort.” He lifted his chin in exultant defiance . “ I’m not a bastard anymore .”

Gabrielle smiled lovingly at the future castle archer, the nephew whom she and Bastien had raised since birth. “That’s right,” she agreed, encouraging Lukaz to lower his drawn arrow with a gesture of her hand. “Your papa will teach you to become a castle archer, just like him. You’ll live with us in Finistère—and train to become a knight with Gunnar and Haldar.” She glanced sternly at her two oldest sons, conveying her expectation that they would accept Lukaz and treat him fairly. “When Vidar is old enough in a few years, he’ll join the three of you, too. We’ll all be a big, happy family.” She beamed at Laudine and Ulla, who had paused their holiday decorating to observe the cousins’ chivalrous display. “And every Yuletide season, we’ll come here to visit Mamie and Papi at le Chateau de Landuc .” Ushering the three whooping, jubilant boys outside into the afternoon light of the setting sun, Gabrielle announced, “Practice now, while you still have enough daylight. It will soon be time for supper.”

As the knights-in-training stormed out of the castle, shouting with glee, the flame-haired French princess lifted her wailing infant daughter from the cradle on the floor and settled down to nurse her in a tufted chair near the crackling hearth. “I am delighted that Cardin has acknowledged his son,” she said to Laudine and Ulla as they resumed wrapping evergreen garlands around a supportive pillar. “It was so hard for Lukaz to be ridiculed and humiliated as a bastard. Now that his father has returned, no one will ever call him that again.” Gabrielle kissed her babe’s soft auburn curls and looked up at Ulla. Maternal lovelight glowed in her generous eyes. “After the wedding—you’ll be the Maman Lukaz never had. Reunited with his papa, a mother to love him at long last…he’ll have a true family. The greatest Yuletide gift he could ever receive.”

Ulla’s eyes brimmed with joyful tears. She loved Lukaz with all her heart and wanted desperately to become his Maman . As she watched Gabrielle nurse her infant daughter, her own breasts tingled at the thought of Cardin’s child now thriving in her womb. She couldn’t wait to tell him the wonderful news. If only she could shake the horrid anxiety that plagued her. Wiping damp palms against her woolen gown, she smiled gratefully at Gabrielle’s generous praise.

The thunderous pounding of horses’ hooves in the courtyard sent several servants scurrying to greet the unexpected visitors. Her face alight with anticipation and delight, Laudine dropped the evergreen garland she was holding and rushed toward the door. “Gaultier and Cardin have returned!”

Ulla’s heart hammered in her chest. Although Laudine was thrilled that her sons had returned, Ulla knew intuitively that something was dreadfully wrong.

And that Cardin desperately needed her.

Swallowing the bile that rose to her constricted throat, she ran to the front door.

And nearly swooned at the sight of Gaultier, Padrig, and two other knights transporting a bloodied, grotesquely wounded Cardin strapped onto a wooden stretcher.

“Bring him in here,” Laudine shouted as the men entered the castle, indicating a small bedroom near the kitchen alcove where Ma?lys sometimes slept. “Lay him on the bed. What happened?” Her voice quavering, she hovered over her injured son, assessing the grievous puncture wound where a bloodied arrow protruded from the pierced chain mail armor. She straightened and spun to Gaultier, her stricken face crumpled in grief.

“Zilar’s men attacked us just as we reached Issoudun. Cardin got Comte Ibarra safely inside the Tower, but took a crossbow bolt in the chest. The healer at la Tour Blanche didn’t have sufficient skill to remove the arrow, so I rushed him home to you and Ulla. Can you save him?” Gaultier’s deep voice cracked as Esclados, Lukaz, and Quentin rushed into the room.

“Papa!” Lukaz shrieked, rushing to his unconscious father’s side. Tears streamed down his ruddy cheeks, flushed from the cold winter chill of training as knights with his cousins in the lists.

Limbs shaking with horror, Ulla stared in stunned disbelief at Cardin’s ravaged body. As she hugged Lukaz tight, vainly trying to comfort the sobbing little boy she loved so very much, her instincts as a healer took over, spurring her to act. Handing Lukaz gently over to his grandmother, she conveyed the silent message to Laudine with imploring, desperate eyes. Take him. I’ll rush home, get my supplies, and be right back.

Weaving frantically through the throng of men crowded around Cardin’s bed, Ulla dashed from the room and raced out the back door of the castle kitchen.

Vill—who had been lying on the floor near the back door—sensed her urgency, leapt to his feet, and bounded with her toward the forest, sprinting across the snow-dusted courtyard.

Ulla bolted up the front steps of her stone cottage, clumsily unlocked the wooden entrance door, and raced into the kitchen to retrieve her satchel of herbs from the corner cupboard. I’ll need healing crystals, too. Amber and carnelian to strengthen his stamina. Celestite and opal to fight disease. Emerald to bathe him in the verdant healing power of the forest. And curative waters from the sacred spring. Tucking the selected gemstones into a protective pouch within her leather bag, she hoisted it over her shoulder and grabbed an earthenware container to fill at the well.

Dashing out the front door, she ran through the dense woods, stopping at the Fountain of Barenton—the sacred spring in the heart of the Forest of Brocéliande. Kneeling beside the gurgling underground spring, she filled the ceramic jug to the brim and closed it with a cork stopper. Whistling for Vill, she raced through the forest, bringing the sacred water, curative herbs, and healing crystals back into the castle.

****

Inside the quiet, vacant chamber where a now naked Cardin lay upon a linen-covered straw mattress, the cleansing aroma of burning sage purified the still air. A blazing fire crackled in the stone hearth and warmed the small room against December’s winter chill. Laudine stood near a marble-topped walnut sideboard upon which she had assembled a variety of herbs, tinctures, and ointments to treat her critically wounded son. On the table near the lone window, a sweet-smelling beeswax candle glowed in the golden light of the setting sun.

“Lukaz is with Gaultier, Esclados, and Quentin. I asked them to take him riding and keep him occupied while we remove the arrow. I took off Cardin’s blood-soaked armor and cleansed his wound with calendula soap and yarrow leaf.” Laudine walked over to stand beside her son’s bed, taking hold of Ulla’s shaking hands and fixing her with a determined, encouraging stare. Wisdom sparkled in her amber eyes. “We will save him, you and I. With our divine healing skills as Priestesses of Dana and with the overwhelming love we both have for him in our hearts.” She hugged Ulla tight, then released her, gesturing to a knife upon the walnut sideboard. “Place the tip of the dagger in the flame. The fire will purify the blade.”

Ulla complied, handing the heated instrument to Laudine. Legs quivering under her woolen gown, she examined the gruesome gash in Cardin’s lower left shoulder. Around the puncture wound where the wooden arrow shaft protruded, his decaying flesh was swollen and inflamed, oozing a noxious, foul-smelling fluid. A few inches lower, and it would have pierced his heart. Dear Goddess, please help us save him. I pray that we are not too late.

“I will make an incision here,” Laudine explained, indicating an area to the left of the wound. “When I pull back the skin, use the tweezers to grasp the quarrel and carefully remove the arrowhead.” With the razor-sharp blade, she meticulously sliced into the skin of Cardin’s upper chest, causing a sudden surge of bright red blood.

Ulla wiped the flow with a clean cloth, gripped the metal arrowhead with tweezers, and carefully withdrew the embedded crossbow bolt. While Laudine examined the incision to make sure no fragments of metal remained in Cardin’s flesh, Ulla laid the long wooden shaft with its bloodstained tip upon the sideboard table.

With Laudine’s knife, Ulla painstakingly cut away a small area of diseased skin around Cardin’s wound. She wiped the blade clean, returned it to Laudine, and crossed the room to retrieve a small kettle from the hearth. Pouring hot water into a cup on the table, she stirred in a mixture of crushed raw garlic, sage, rosemary, and calendula. Cautioning Laudine to step back, Ulla trickled the scalding concoction into Cardin’s open wound, setting the empty cup aside and stanching the new bleeding with a poultice of yarrow.

“Your sewing skills are much finer than mine.” Laudine handed Ulla a needle and thread.

Soaking the instruments in a bowl of wine, Ulla meticulously cleansed all debris from Cardin’s wound and closed the incision with precisely detailed stitches. She cut off the excess thread with Laudine’s knife, wiped the needle clean, and placed it back inside her satchel. With a soft cloth, a bucket of water, and sweet-smelling calendula soap, she washed the blood and gore from the dark hair stretched across Cardin’s chest. Applying a healing ointment of garlic and honey over the row of neat stitches, she bandaged the wound with soft, pure white linen.

Ulla lovingly washed every inch of Cardin’s blood-soaked body and filthy hair, whispering silent prayers that her nurturing care would save him. While Laudine carefully lifted Cardin’s shoulder, Ulla removed the soiled bed sheet from beneath him, replacing it with a fresh one and covering him with woolen blankets. Retrieving the gemstones from the pouch in her satchel, she placed five crystals—one at his head and at each of his four limbs—forming a star to channel the divine healing energy of the Goddess into Cardin’s damaged body. Eyes closed in fervent concentration, she drew upon the curative powers of the crystals, willing the man she loved so desperately to live.

Laudine wrapped the bloodied linens into a ball and handed them to a servant for proper cleaning. She returned to Ulla’s side and draped an arm across her back, giving her shoulders a comforting squeeze. “Stay here and rest.” She pulled a velvet tufted chair up to Cardin’s bedside and sat Ulla down, kissing her firmly on the cheek. “I’ll take care of Lukaz and assist Ma?lys with supper. I’ll bring him in later to see his papa and say goodnight. And I’ll have Jehan set up a bed in here for you—and bring a platter of food as well. You must keep up your strength.” Laudine brushed a lock of long black hair from Ulla’s weary face. “We’ve done all we can for now. If he awakens, have him drink the water from the sacred well.” She headed toward the door, turning back at the threshold. “You’re the most gifted healer I’ve ever known. If anyone can save Cardin, it’s you. I pray you will, Ulla. For all of us.” Tears glimmering in her golden eyes, Laudine smiled bravely and left the room, closing the heavy wooden door behind her.

Ulla rose from her chair, crossed the room, and retrieved her satchel. I’ll mix healing herbs into the water from the sacred spring. Calendula to withdraw poison from the wound. Burdock root and red clover to cleanse his blood. Goosegrass to reduce the swelling and inflammation. From the ceramic jug she’d carried into the castle, Ulla poured water into a goblet on Cardin’s bedside table, mixing in carefully measured droplets of each tincture. I hope he stirs soon, so I can coax him to drink. Please, dear Goddess, help me save him.

She must have dozed off in the chair, for she was startled awake by deep, anguished moaning. Cardin was burning with fever, thrashing restlessly in bed. Ulla calmed him with a soothing touch, planting soft kisses on his hot cheeks as she stroked his damp hair. Lifting his head, she held the goblet to his lips, helping him gulp a few swallows of herb-laced water. When he settled back down to sleep, she put a cool compress on his forehead and changed his bandage, adding more crushed garlic and raw honey to the stitches over his wound. She replaced the curative crystals at the five astral points around his body, replenishing the divine energy of the star with fresh healing gemstones.

Pouring some of the liquid from the ceramic jug into a small bowl, Ulla cleansed the used crystals in the purifying water of the sacred spring. Tomorrow, she would replace the five gemstones at each astral point around Cardin’s body once again, bathing him anew in refreshed healing energy.

As promised, Jehan set up a pallet for her along the wall near Cardin’s bed. A short while later, Ma?lys popped in with an appealing platter of venison pottage and winter vegetables from Laudine’s verrière, half a loaf of crusty fresh bread, a wedge of ripe cheese, and a pewter goblet of ale. “Healers must eat,” she admonished affectionately, setting the tray down upon the walnut sideboard. Worry creased her forehead as she glanced at the sleeping Cardin. “Any change?”

Ulla shook her head and lowered her eyes. Her stomach grumbled at the enticing aroma of the appetizing food. Indicating the platter with a gesture of her hand, she ducked her chin in gratitude and sat down to eat.

“Laudine will be in soon with Lukaz. He keeps asking about his father. I hope, for his sake, that Cardin improves.” Ma?lys smiled politely and nodded at the tray. “I’ll be back later to collect the dishes. Eat as much as you can…to keep up your strength.” With a respectful bow, the irreplaceable servant and indispensable cook discreetly disappeared.

Ulla ate all of the delicious pottage, savoring the rich broth, flavorful herbs, and hearty oats. She spread creamy cheese over the crusty bread, popping the last bite into her mouth when Laudine and Lukaz appeared in the doorway.

“Is Papa going to live? That’s all I want for my birthday.” Lukaz crossed the room and rested his small hand on his father’s thick forearm. Expressive eyes widened with fear, he looked imploring at Ulla. “It’s my Yuletide wish, too. All I want for Christmas is for Papa to live.”

As Ulla rose to her feet, Lukaz flung his arms around her waist, sobbing into her woolen gown. “Please heal him—just like you did Vill. Please, Lady Ulla. Heal Papa.”

She stroked the soft waves of his dark hair, rocking him against her stomach. I wish I could soothe him with comforting words. I long for the voice I once had.

“Ulla and I will do everything we can to save your Papa. But he needs to sleep, and so do you. Now, kiss him goodnight. And say bonne nuit to Lady Ulla.” Laudine waited while Lukaz complied. As she led her sniffling grandson off to bed, she added cheerfully, “Come, I’ll tell you the tale of how Sir Tristan of Lyonesse became the Dragon Knight of Avalon.”

****

The next three days passed in a dull haze. Cardin occasionally roused enough to swallow a few gulps of the herb-infused water, but he did not fully regain consciousness. Servants helped Ulla change his urine-soaked bedding, bringing clean linens for bathing and bandages. She repeatedly applied scalding compresses to the festering wound, extracting the poison from the inflamed flesh, coating the injured skin with crushed garlic, calendula, and raw honey. Each morning, she replaced the five purified crystals at his head, arms, and legs, wordlessly invoking the healing essence of the minerals to restore his weakened body. She placed droplets of coriander tincture under his tongue, praying that the rare herb imported from the Mediterranean would reduce his resistant fever and help him awaken from his seemingly endless sleep.

Although Laudine brought Lukaz to visit his papa each morning and night, she insisted that he practice swordsmanship and archery with his cousins and uncles, and continue riding palfreys with his grandfather and Lord Quentin in the afternoon.

Bastien and Xabi arrived on the nineteenth of December with King Guillemin and his royal entourage from Finistère. Jubilant over the successful signing of the Yuletide treaty and the establishment of the Alliance with Aquitaine between Comte Eztebe Ibarra of Biarritz, King Philippe of Paris, and King Guillemin of Finstère, their gaiety was subdued by the critically injured knight who still valiantly battled for his life.

Laudine had just finished helping Ulla change Cardin’s bandages and now sat with her at a small table near his bedside, discussing the upcoming Yuletide events. “Today is the Winter Solstice. We need to celebrate Lukaz’ birthday as planned. I hope to brighten the holidays as much as possible. And keep the faith that Cardin will recover.” Darting a glance at her sleeping son, she poured two cups of chamomile tisane and handed one to Ulla. “Ma?lys is preparing the wassail—that spicy mulled wine we always drink during the holiday season. Tonight, in keeping with the tradition of our Breton ancestors, I’ll bring our guests outside to decorate the large fir tree at the edge of the forest.” She pensively sipped her cup of herbal tea. “The castle servants have made plenty of sun-, moon-, and star-shaped ornaments from gold and silver threaded cloth. Lukaz, Gunnar, and Haldar will love hanging the shiny trinkets on the tree. When we come back inside, perhaps you can join us in the solar when Lukaz opens his gifts.” Laudine set her cup down and smiled sadly. “I hope he likes the emblem on the new shield Cardin had crafted for him. He wanted Lukaz to bear it proudly—as a future knight of Finistère.”

Ulla’s heart sank at the dim prospect of Cardin’s recovery and the likelihood that Lukaz would return to Finistère without her. She would be alone once again in her small stone cottage, retreating back to the solace of silence.

If Cardin does not survive, I won’t be able to keep Lukaz. Or have him live in the cottage with Vill and me. Gabrielle and Bastien will want to take him back to Beaufort. To train him to become a royal knight. A castle archer, like his papa. I can’t bear the thought of losing them both. My unborn child will have neither father nor brother. Please, dear Goddess, help me save Cardin. Help me heal the man I love.

As much as she wanted to accept Laudine’s invitation to join the celebration in the solar tonight, Ulla refused to leave Cardin’s side. His soul was bound to hers, tethered by a delicate lifeline. If she left him, he would die. How could she explain? Ulla had no words.

She scribbled a message on her tablet and handed it to Laudine.

I must stay with Cardin, but I have a gift for Lukaz, too. Please ask Gaultier to fetch it for me. It’s on the top shelf in the corner cupboard of my kitchen. Wrapped in silver cloth with a dark green ribbon.

“Of course. I’ll have him bring it to you in here. Tonight, after dinner—before we go outside to decorate the tree—Lukaz will come to you so you can give him his gift and celebrate his birthday, too.” Laudine finished her tisane and rose to her feet, reaching her arms overhead to stretch out her back. “And now, you must excuse me. I need to tend to my royal guests—even if they are my own son and daughter-in-law.” She chuckled, bending down to kiss Ulla’s two cheeks with la bise of farewell. Placing the empty cups beside the teapot, she lifted the metal tray and slipped quietly out the door.

Later, as Ulla mopped sweat from Cardin’s fevered brow, Gaultier brought the birthday gift for her to give Lukaz. He laid the cloth-wrapped package on the table and bent down to kiss her cheek. “He still hasn’t awakened?” Despair dimmed his bright eyes.

Ulla shook her head softly, unable to hold his sorrowful gaze.

“He will. I have faith that you can save him, Ulla.” Gaultier raised her hand to his lips and kissed it softly. “Please heal my brother.” With a reverent bow of his dark head, Gaultier retreated from the room.

When Cardin moaned and stirred, Ulla helped him drink more herb-infused water from the sacred spring. She replaced the healing crystals in the five astral points around his head and limbs, and washed his entire body with purifying water from the well. Holding her hand over his inflamed wound, she silently summoned the healing essence of the gemstones and the curative cleansing of the sacred spring.

Dear Goddess Dana, hear my prayer. May your divine spirit pass through these sacred elements of water, forest, and stone that I imbue into Cardin’s ravaged body. Guide me—your devout priestess—to heal the man I love. Please make Lukaz’ Yuletide wish come true.

Night fell, and the still room became dark. Ulla lit a beeswax candle, added a log to the fire, and returned to sit beside the bed. She held Cardin’s hand, absently rubbing the dark hair on his knuckles as she gazed into the flickering flames in the hearth. Seven years ago, Cardin sat beside his beloved wife as she labored to give birth to his son.

A jubilant Lukaz burst into the room, his effervescence and enthusiasm instantly squelched at the sight of his stricken father. “I wanted to show you my shield,” he said apologetically, displaying the gift Cardin had requisitioned from the local armorer for his son’s birthday. Across the top of the kite-shaped wooden shield, five black ermine symbols—emblems of la Bretagne —stood on a white background above the golden-horned ram and rearing lion, the royal heraldry of Finistère.

Ulla gracefully accepted the fine weapon as Lukaz handed it to her with honor blazing in his bright blue eyes. She nodded in approval as her fingers caressed the smooth, polished wood, admiring the intricate details and superb craftsmanship. With an appreciative smile, she returned the tapered shield to its proud new owner.

“It’s perfect for a future knight of Finistère.” Laudine stroked the dark, shiny waves of Lukaz’ thick hair that so resembled his father’s. “When your papa awakens, he’ll be delighted to see how much his gift pleases you.” She smiled bravely as she met Ulla’s gaze. “Lady Ulla has a birthday gift for you, too. She asked me to bring you here so she could give it to you.”

Ulla rose to her feet and left Cardin’s side. She strode across the room to the walnut sideboard where the wrapped gift sat upon the marble tabletop. The silver threads in the finely woven cloth sparkled in the firelight. She handed the gift to Lukaz and watched as he opened her handmade gift.

“A new falconry glove!” he exclaimed with glee, sliding his hand into the brown deerskin lined with soft rabbit fur. “I can wear it when we hunt with Rask and Finn!”

You can bring Rask with you back to le Chateau de Beaufort. And wear your new glove in Finistère. Ulla swallowed an enormous lump of sorrow at the thought of losing the little boy whom she already loved like a son. How could she ever let him go? But if Cardin did not survive, she would have no claim to Lukaz. He would go back to Beaufort without her.

Laudine slid an appreciative fingertip over the straps of the falconry glove. “It’s adjustable—to accommodate your growth as you become a seasoned hunter.” She hugged Lukaz to her ample maternal bosom. “Give Lady Ulla a kiss and thank her for the wonderful gift.”

While Lukaz hugged Ulla, expressing his gratitude as he fervently kissed her cheek, Laudine announced, “It’s time to join our guests and decorate the Yuletide tree. It’s a Breton tradition for the Winter Solstice that dates back to our Celtic ancestors.” She smiled at her grandson. “We’ll come back to say goodnight to Lady Ulla and your papa after the decorating. Come, let’s go join your cousins.” Preparing to leave, Laudine bent to kiss Cardin’s forehead, whispering words of prayer and encouragement into his unhearing ear. With la bise of farewell on Ulla’s cheek, she led an exuberant Lukaz from the darkened room.

A clattering of dishes alerted Ulla to someone approaching in the hall. Ruddy cheeks aglow above his blond beard, a beaming Jehan entered the chamber with a platter of sumptuous food. “Since you couldn’t join the birthday celebration, milady, I’ve brought the feast to you.” He set a tantalizing tray on the marble-topped walnut sideboard. Ulla glimpsed roast pheasant, baked trout, steaming vegetables from Laudine’s greenhouse, and a mouth-watering assortment of sweetmeats that Ma?lys must have spent days concocting. “ Bon appétit. Madame. Enjoy your meal. I’ll be back later to fetch the tray.” Jehan bowed at the waist and disappeared out the door.

Although the cuisine was superb, Ulla found it difficult to eat. Worry and grief consumed her. At the thought of her unborn child, she forced some of the tasteless food down her constricted throat. The babe in my womb needs nourishment. And I must stay strong to heal Cardin.

When she’d eaten enough, she left the tray on the sideboard and returned to the chair at Cardin’s side. In the still, dark room, Ulla gazed at the dancing flames in the hearth, her thoughts returning to the night Lukaz was born.

The Winter Solstice. The longest night of the year, when darkness overwhelms the light. Like now. I sit here in the darkness of despair, losing the man I love, just as Cardin lost Charlotte seven years ago.

Horrific images from the past inundated her in a drowning flood of pain.

Her husband Romain, valiantly but vainly defending their home from murderous, marauding pirates, his throat slashed as he shouted to warn her of the attack.

Her infant son Fjall, slaughtered before her very eyes in his aging nurse’s arms.

Her two knights, desperate to save their chatelaine , preventing her from leaving the woods where she gathered herbs. Forcing her into the saddle instead. Returning her to Laudine and le Chateau de Landuc . To the Forest of Brocéliande.

I’ve already lost everyone I love. I cannot lose Cardin, too. Please, dear Goddess, show me how to save him. What more can I do? I’ve coaxed him to drink water from the sacred spring, laced with herbs from the verdant forest. I’ve anointed his body with ointments and oils. Surrounded him with healing crystals in the shape of a celestial star. How can I reach him in the darkness? How can I call him back into the light?

As Jehan entered the room to retrieve the tray, Ulla was struck by a flash of inspiration. She leapt to her feet and grasped the servant’s sinewy forearm, willing him to stay with imploring eyes. She quickly scribbled a message on her tablet and handed it to him, her pulse pounding in her dry throat.

“I’m sorry, but I cannot read, milady.” Bewilderment and shame reflected in his expressive eyes.

Ulla wiped the slate clean and drew an image instead. When she handed him the tablet, his bearded face stretched into a bemused, astonished grin. “You’d like me to fetch your harp? The one you used to play for us when you were a girl?”

Knees weak and wobbly, she nodded in a fervent frenzy.

“I’ll bring it to you, Lady Ulla. Wait here. I’ll be right back.”

****

Flames scorched his sizzling skin. A raging thirst parched his dry throat. Fire radiated from his chest, his entire body immobilized by incapacitating pain. As darkness and oblivion beckoned, Cardin heard brilliant, glittering strands of ethereal music, drawing him toward a golden light.

The melodic liquid flowed over him like the cascade of a cool, clear spring. Lucid and pure, the limpid notes splashed into a pool of memories, bubbling to the surface.

Pine-scented evergreen boughs with garlands of holly and ivy. Family and friends feasting in the festive Great Hall. Dancing la carole to the lively tune of fiddles and flutes. A glorious golden harp bathing the castle in luxurious, luminous sound.

As the melody tugged at his memory, a crystalline voice called to him.

With a song recognized by his soul.

She used to play the harp every holiday season and fill the whole castle with ephemeral, transcendent music. She’d sing the Celtic Yuletide Carol.

The song her heart sings to me now.

Ulla.

She’s calling me.

Darkness beckoned. It would be so easy to succumb. To surrender to the numbness. Escape the burning, torturous pain.

The uplifting music rose in volume, a crescendo of sound surging over him like a tumultuous wave crashing against a craggy cliff.

Clear as a clarion bell, the peals of Ulla’s angelic voice summoned his soul.

She’s calling me. I must find the way back to her.

****

Tears streamed down Ulla’s cheeks as she poured herself into her song. With her familiar fingers strumming the silken strings, the music soared like the graceful wings of a swan. From the depths of her soul, she found her voice and called Cardin to come toward the light.

A clamor in the entryway announced the return of the castle guests.

Focused only on reaching Cardin, Ulla continued to strum and sing, her healing essence flowing into his with music, light, and love.

Amid gasps of astonishment, faces appeared in the doorway and family floated into the room.

“Ulla’s singing! And playing her harp!” Whispers of wonder rippled like a soft wind.

“That’s the Celtic Yuletide Carol she used to always sing. It was your papa’s favorite song. Perhaps he’ll hear her voice and come back to her.” Laudine hugged Lukaz tight. Please, dear Goddess, help her reach him. Let her heal him with her music and her love.

As if her prayers had been answered, Cardin opened his eyes.

Ulla stopped playing and handed her harp to Gaultier, standing at her side. She rose from her chair, and fell to her knees, wiping Cardin’s sweaty brow with the palm of her hand. “You came back to me.” She kissed his parched lips softly, her tears dampening his bristled cheeks. Supporting his head, she helped him drink more of the herb-infused water from the sacred spring.

A crooked smile of incredulity stretched across his scarred, stubbled face. “I heard you sing. Your voice called to me.” His eyes glimmered with wonder and unbridled joy.

“Papa! Lady Ulla healed you. You’re going to be all right!” Lukaz hugged his father, carefully resting his small head on the uninjured side of Cardin’s broad chest. He raised a hopeful, tentatively optimistic face. “Can we still have the wedding? And live with Lady Ulla in Finistère?”

Cardin chuckled hoarsely. “Of course we will. But first, I’d like more water. Will you pour me a glass?”

Lukaz complied, proud and delighted to help his papa. While his father drank, Lukaz hugged Ulla. “I’m so glad your voice came back. Now you can talk again.” He nestled his head against her stomach, his smiling face radiant.

Laudine and Esclados, wrapped in woolen cloaks against the Winter Solstice chill, kissed and hugged their son, overjoyed to see Cardin recover. Bastien, Gabrielle, and their children were next in wishing him well. King Guillemin thanked Cardin for saving Comte Ibarra, attributing the success of the Yuletide Treaty to his heroic chivalry.

Gaultier and Xabi congratulated Basati on the defeat of Andoni Zilar’s assassins. Xabi handed Cardin the dagger that had been stolen behind the Drunken Crow in Biarritz. “Got this from Gizon, Zilar’s appointed assassin. Thought you’d like to have it back.” A wicked gleam in his dark warrior eyes, he flashed a broken-toothed grin within his bushy beard. “Basati the Basque Wolf’s blade.”

“Come, everyone. Cardin needs rest. We’ll see him again in the morning.” Laudine ushered the relieved family members out the door, then turned to say goodnight to her son and Ulla. She kissed Cardin’s forehead, wiping the dark hair away from his now cool brow. “ Dors bien, mon fils . Sleep well, my son. Thank the Goddess you’ve come back to us.” Gratitude and love blazed in her amber eyes as she beheld Ulla. “Thank you for healing my son.” Wrapping her arms around Ulla’s back, Laudine enveloped her in an affectionate maternal embrace. “If Cardin is hungry, there’s plenty of soup left over from tonight’s feast. On the hearth in the kitchen.” She kissed Ulla’s cheek. “Get some rest. See you in the morning.”

Alone at last with the man she loved with all her heart, Ulla sat beside him on the bed and held his hand in her lap. She stroked the calloused skin with her thumb. “I had to reach you somehow. I could sense you slipping away.” Her tender fingertips traced his face, and she leaned forward to kiss him softly. “I’d given you herbs…and sacred water from the well. I even placed healing crystals in the shape of a star around your body.” She collected the glittering gemstones, tucking them back inside the pouch of the satchel near her chair. “But it wasn’t enough. I needed more. And then it dawned on me. I could reach you in the darkness through music. I had to play my harp.” She raised his hand to her lips and brushed his knuckles with a soft kiss. “I remembered the Celtic Yuletide Carol I always sang each holiday season. The one you loved so much. As I strummed the familiar chords, my spirit soared to yours. Desperate to reach you, I found my voice. And sang you away from the darkness…back into the light.”

Cardin pulled her to him, cradling her head over his chest. “I heard your voice. Felt your spirit call to me.” He rocked her in his arms. “I fought my way back to you.”

Content to be in his embrace, she lingered a few moments longer, then sat up and offered him more herb-infused water. “Are you hungry? Could you eat some broth?”

He grinned weakly. “I’m starved. Broth sounds really good.”

She kissed him, her heart soaring like the chords she’d played for him on her harp. “I’ll be right back.” Slipping quietly from the room, she slid down the dim hall and into the dark castle kitchen. From the pot simmering over the banked fire in the hearth, she ladled a bowl of hearty broth and set it on a tray with a wooden spoon and a crust of bread. As she returned to Cardin’s chamber, the waxing moon shone through the window, bathing the room in incandescent light.

The divine light of love which triumphed over darkness.

Thank you, dear Goddess, for answering my prayers.

And making my Yuletide wish come true.