Chapter 2

A Wounded Heart

Amid the chirps and trills of morning larks and thrushes floating in upon the summer breeze, Laudine steeped the fragrant chamomile blossoms as she prepared a calming cup of tisane . From the cozy alcove of her castle kitchen, she gazed out the open window and watched the dark-haired Ulla—with her ever-present trained wolf at her side—gather yarrow, nettles, calendula, and red clover from the sheltered herb garden behind le Chateau de Landuc .

She’ll prepare curative ointments and potions for our injured knights. If only an herbal elixir could heal her own wounded heart.

Ulla had first come to le Chateau de Landuc when she was twelve years old. Her parents, Viking descendants from Normandy, had sent their young daughter to study under the unparalleled tutelage of Laudine, the renowned Lady of the Sacred Spring and chatelaine of the famed medieval castle. As the highest ranking Priestess of Dana—Goddess of the Earth and embodiment of Mother Nature—Laudine practiced the traditional arts of Celtic healing, using the curative properties of the sacred elements of water, forest, and stone. Here in the Castle of Landuc, nestled in the dense Forest of Brocéliande, Laudine taught young women to become guérisseueses celtiques , or capable Celtic healers.

And Ulla was undoubtedly the most gifted of them all.

While living in le Chateau de Landuc , studying herbal medicine in the Breton heart of the sacred forest, Ulla had been spared from the devastating illness that had claimed the lives of her entire family.

Laudine and her husband Esclados le Ros had subsequently sheltered Ulla in their castle, caring for her throughout adolescence, sharing the joy of her youthful exuberance, sublime singing voice, and extraordinary musical talent with the harp while watching her blossom into a beautiful young woman and exceptionally talented healer.

But tragically—for the second time in her young life—Ulla had returned home to Landuc.

To heal her grievously wounded heart.

“I’ve prepared us a pot of chamomile tea. Here, let me have those herbs while you join me in the alcove.” Laudine took the straw basket from Ulla and set it upon the kitchen counter. She returned to the small nook where the dark-haired priestess with deep green eyes and a haunting smile sat at the rectangular oak table, the grey wolf Vill—the Norwegian word for fierce—lying protectively on the castle floor at Ulla’s side.

Laudine poured and served two cups of tisane , placing the steaming teapot on the table between them as she settled into the walnut chair across from Ulla. She took a sip of the fragrant herbal tea, the slightly sweet flavor of honey lingering on her tongue as she hesitantly broached the delicate subject.

“My Yuletide wish is to have all three of my sons home for the holiday season.” Laudine eyed Ulla over the rim of her ceramic cup, noting the younger woman’s sorrowful smile and downturned gaze. “Bastien and his wife Gabrielle will be here, with their four children. And Lukaz, of course. He’s six years old now…such a delightful little boy. It breaks my heart that his father—my wayward son Cardin—has never even seen his own child. The son he’s scorned since birth.” Laudine glanced out the window at the ripe wild plums on the abundant trees along the edge of the forest behind the castle, reminiscing about the shattered son she so desperately longed to see. How he loved wild plum tarts as a little boy… She smiled at the nostalgic memory, then returned her attention to Ulla. “ For the past six years, I’ve begged him to come home for the Yuletide season, but he adamantly refuses to return to Bretagne. Cardin wants no part of his painful past. And that, dear Ulla, is why I need your assistance.”

Ulla’s inquisitive eyes—virid as the verdant forest—searched Laudine’s face. Her dark brows lifted, forming the unspoken question. How can I help?

“I pray the Goddess will forgive me for the necessary lie, but I plan to feign a serious illness. With you as my healer, we’ll convince everyone that I don’t have much longer to live. I’ll insist that my three sons come home to grant their mother’s final request—to see them one last time before her impending demise.” Laudine grinned conspiratorially at Ulla’s astonished expression. “But you and I shall know the real reason for the ruse. To force Cardin home for the Yuletide holidays. And reunite father and son at long last.”

Ulla’s tragically beautiful face stretched into a glorious smile. Dark green eyes sparkling like rare emeralds, the gifted healer sipped her chamomile tea and nodded in silent, eager agreement.

Like the fragile wings of a lark, hope fluttered softly in Laudine’s loving heart.