Chapter 9

Lessons

“Mmmm,” Lukaz hummed as he took a huge bite of the wild plum tarte Ulla had made just for him. “ Tarte aux mirabelles is my favorite! Do you like it too, Lady Ulla?” He licked his lips gleefully, bright eyes sparkling with unbridled delight in the late morning sun as he sat at the table in Ulla’s cheerful cottage kitchen.

She nodded in agreement, slipping a delectable spoonful of the sweet green plums into her mouth with a satisfied smile. He loves the pie, just as Laudine said he would. I am so glad I baked it!

When he’d finished a second slice, Ulla brought the two earthenware bowls and pewter spoons to the kitchen counter, rinsed them in a wooden bucket of water, and dried the dishes and utensils with a soft clean cloth. She placed them in the small wooden cupboard above the counter and returned to the table, smiling at the sight of Lukaz letting her wolf lick his sticky fingers. It seems Vill loves tarte aux mirabelles, too.

She placed a tentative hand on the back of Lukaz’ head and stroked the soft, dark waves which dusted his small shoulders.

At her touch, the lad looked up at her with large, inquisitive eyes. “Is it time to go back to the castle?”

Ulla ducked her chin and gestured for him to come along.

Lukaz rose from the chair, and Vill was instantly alert, eager to follow the little boy anywhere. Ulla mused how the two had already formed a close bond. These two have become fast friends. Vill’s devotion will strengthen Lukaz as much as the archery and hunting lessons. And with his own horse and falcon, Laudine’s Little Wolf will become as fierce as Finn.

Like the wings of her falcon taking flight, Ulla’s spirit soared in the cerulean sky.

****

“We saw my colt in the stables, Mamie ! Master Quentin said Lady Ulla could write down some Viking names for him, and you could read them for me. I want my Friesian to have a Viking name, like N?de.” Lukaz hugged Laudine around the hips, jumping up and down with excitement and enthusiasm.

“Well, that’s a fine idea. Ulla has a piece of slate here and some white limestone chalk that she uses for writing. Perhaps she can suggest a Viking name for your new colt.” Laudine fetched the items and handed them to Ulla with a soft chuckle.

Ulla wrote a few words on the tablet, which Laudine read aloud.

“ L?per means runner. Do you like that name?”

Lukas wrinkled his face, and Ulla scribbled again.

“ Mektig . It means powerful. How about that one?”

The grimace on his face spoke volumes. “I want a short name, like N?de.”

Ulla reflected for a few moments, then scratched another suggestion onto the slate.

“ Kol. It means dark, like your Friesian’s black coat.”

Large blue eyes widened in wonder. “ Oui, c’est parfait! That’s perfect. My colt’s name is Kol.” Lukaz darted a glance up at Ulla. Worry clouded his bright gaze. “But what about my falcon? She needs a Viking name, too.”

Ulla grinned and scribbled a name for Laudine to read.

“ Jeger means hunter. Do you like it?” His grandmother raised her eyebrows as she smiled down at Lukaz.

Wavy brown locks flew as he shook his small head.

Chalk scratched on the smooth surface, and Laudine read the Norwegian word aloud. “ Rask. It means fast, quick, or rapid. Like your falcon will be when she’s grown.”

“Yes! My falcon is Rask, and my Friesian is Kol .” He threw his sturdy little arms around Ulla’s waist and nestled a jubilant face against her flat stomach. “Thank you, Lady Ulla. Now my animals have Viking names, just like yours.”

Ulla’s heart overflowed as she gazed into Laudine’s grateful, twinkling eyes.

“You’ll have to tell me all about the archery and hunting lesson at dinner. Ma?lys has roasted a goose, and we have fresh vegetables from the garden.” Laudine lovingly stroked her grandson’s soft brown locks. She looked up, suddenly shifting her attention to Ulla. “Would you like to join us? We’d be delighted to have you.” Affection evident on her kind, generous face, Laudine waited for Ulla’s silent response.

She shook her head, bowing humbly to politely decline the invitation. Scribbling a message on the slate, Ulla handed it for Laudine to read.

“Of course, you must return to the cottage. You need to clean and cure the rabbit pelts from this morning’s hunt while they’re still fresh. And you have chores that await you as well.” Laudine kissed Ulla on both cheeks with la bise of farewell. “I’ll bring Lukaz for his next lesson on Wednesday morning, then. Thank you very much for making his first experience today so memorable.” She smiled down at her adoring grandson. “Say goodbye to Lady Ulla. We’re very fortunate to have an expert archer and huntress to teach you her skills. Just imagine—in a few years, you’ll be as fine an archer as your father.”

Lukas hugged Ulla’s hips with fierce gratitude and affection. “Thank you for teaching me archery and how to hunt. And for the Viking names for Rask and Kol. Au revoir, Lady Ulla. See you Wednesday.” The little boy knelt on the floor to hug his new furry friend. “Bye, Vill. See you Wednesday.”

Vill licked Lukaz’ face with loyal lupine affection.

With a wave goodbye and a whistle for her wolf, Ulla exited le Chateau de Landuc , strolled across the grassy castle bailey, and returned to her cottage in the woods.

****

Throughout the summer, Ulla brought Lukaz hunting with Vill, N?de, and Finn three times each week, returning to the cottage for archery lessons in the late morning. Gradually, as the boy’s strength and accuracy improved, she lengthened the distance of the target to further develop his skills.

Lukaz positively glowed with pride as he continued to make excellent progress.

Ulla showed him how to set traps and snares, in which they caught small birds, squirrels, beavers, and rabbits. Together, they plucked feathers from the fowl, some of which she carefully cut for use as writing quills. Ulla often prepared roasts from the partridge, pheasant, or quail—flavored with wild onions, mushrooms, garlic, vegetables, and herbs from her garden—which the two of them shared in her secluded woodland cottage.

She taught Lukaz how to scrape hides from the squirrels, rabbits, and beavers they trapped, giving most of the meat and bones to Vill, and reserving some for the savory stews they both enjoyed. Cleaning, curing, and drying the pelts, she demonstrated how to prepare the fur, which she used to line cloaks and create hats, gloves, and capes for winter clothing and Yuletide gifts.

On alternate days, Lukaz spent mornings with Laudine, learning to read, write, and calculate numbers. Then, while his Mamie instructed the young priestesses studying herbal medicine with her at le Chateau de Landuc, the little boy developed his equestrian skills on gentle palfreys with Lord Quentin, the Master of Horse. By the time the Friesian colt, Kol, was old enough to ride, Lukaz would already be—at nine or ten years of age—an accomplished, proficient horseman.

During the afternoon on days when Lukaz wasn’t practicing with Ulla, Esclados le Ros, Lord of Landuc , brought his grandson to the castle mews so that the Little Wolf could train his young peregrine falcon Rask with Sir Gauvin.

With a written note on her tablet, Ulla explained to Lukaz that although Rask wasn’t ready to hunt with them just yet, it was essential for the lad to feed and bond with his precious fledgling each time the two of them fetched Finn.

And Sir Gauvin informed Lukaz that once Rask was fully grown, she and Finn could hunt together as a team and bring down larger prey, perhaps even a deer.

“I can’t wait until Rask is big enough to hunt with Finn, Lady Ulla. They’ll work together and catch even more game for us.” Lukaz dropped to his knees, stroking the wolf’s thick grey fur as Vill sat impatiently on the grass outside the castle mews, anxious to begin the hunt. The little boy looked up at her with large, inquisitive eyes. “Does Vill like deer meat?”

Ulla laughed silently and nodded vehemently. Vill absolutely adored venison.

Releasing Finn with a flick of her wrist, she hoisted Lukaz onto N?de’s sturdy back, climbed into the saddle behind him, and whistled for her wolf.

And—under the blue Breton sky—galloped off with her eager hunting companions.

****

One afternoon in late August, as the first hint of fall blew in the crisp, pine-scented breeze, Ulla and Lukaz were deep in the forest, retrieving game from the snares they had set the previous day, when she spotted the distinctive white berries of a mistletoe plant hanging from the branches of a majestic oak.

The sacred plant of the Druids. This Yuletide season, the Archdruid Odin will lead his Celtic priests here for la cérémonie du gui—the yearly ritual for cutting the mistletoe. What a treasured find to discover their sacred plant! I’ll climb up and cut a small piece to bring back to the castle. And ask Laudine to explain the significance to Lukaz.

Ulla motioned to Lukaz, beckoning him to her side. She pointed up at the clustered ball of the large plant, hanging from a branch of the oak. Gesturing to Vill to sit and stay with the little boy, Ulla withdrew the dagger from her waist and mimicked cutting the plant so Lukaz would understand her intentions. Then, after sheathing her sharp blade, she strode over to the oak, jumped up to grab hold of a low-lying branch, and hoisted herself up into the enormous tree.

While Lukaz watched in wide-eyed wonder from the leaf-strewn ground below, Ulla painstakingly cut a small sprig of the sacred plant, tucked it into her waistband, and lowered herself down to the forest floor. She retrieved the tiny branch from the folds of her dress and handed it to Lukaz.

“What kind of plant is this, Lady Ulla?” He examined the loop shaped foliage and sniffed the round white berries. “It doesn’t have a smell.”

Ulla motioned toward the castle, trying to convey the message that Laudine—who kept a greenhouse made of glass which permitted her to cultivate plants and harvest herbs year-round—would recognize it and explain the significance to Lukaz.

Comprehension sparkled in his bright blue eyes. “ Mamie will know what this is. She grows lots of plants and herbs in her verrière .” Lukaz handed the mistletoe back to Ulla, who smiled encouragingly and nodded in agreement as she protectively tucked the treasured find into the deep green velvet of her gathered bodice.

Together, she and Lukaz retrieved the last two grouse from their snares and reset the traps. Ulla placed the fowl into the straw basket on her arm, whistled for Vill, and led Lukaz back to her stone cottage.

Once inside, she set the basket of fresh game on top of her kitchen counter and covered it with a clean cloth. Satisfied the grouse could wait until she returned to pluck, prepare, and roast them for dinner, Ulla took an eager Lukaz by the hand and—with Vill bounding ahead through the forest toward the grassy castle bailey—sauntered off toward le Chateau de Landuc .

****

Laudine greeted her effusive, jubilant grandson with an enthusiastic hug, grateful that the archery and hunting lessons with Ulla were progressing so well. During the past three months since Lukaz had begun training with her, he’d formed a closeknit bond with the mute priestess and her beloved wolf. In fact, Laudine mused with a joyful heart, the trio had become inseparable friends.

“ Mamie, we found a weird plant in a huge oak tree. It was shaped like a ball, with lots of white berries. Lady Ulla climbed up in the tree to cut it. We brought a piece of it here so you could tell me what it is.” Lukaz gazed up lovingly at her, adoration and pride sparkling in his bright blue eyes. “You’re the High Priestess of Dana. You know everything about plants and herbs.”

Laudine smiled down upon her Little Wolf, stroking his soft chestnut hair, as Ulla retrieved the sprig of mistletoe from the bodice of her gown. Accepting the berry-laden twig from her former protégée, Laudine remarked, “Mistletoe. Sacred plant of the Druids.”

Mouth agape, Lukaz exhaled in audible astonishment.

“Every Yuletide season, Druids search the Forest of Brocéliande for a mistletoe plant such as this,” Laudine exclaimed, placing the precious twig in Lukaz’ flattened palm. “Once they find it, they tell the Archdruid Odin, who leads the group to the oak tree for the sacred ritual called la cérémonie du gui .” She beamed at his rapt, awestruck expression. “Odin spreads a white cloth on the ground, and a young, agile Druid climbs the tree and cuts the mistletoe with a special gold sickle. He climbs back down, and Odin gives a portion of the plant to each Druid, to distribute among all the families in our village. We hang the mistletoe over the entrance of our homes. In that way, the sacred plant, tree, and forest—blessings of the Goddess Dana herself—guide and protect us for a prosperous New Year.”

Lukaz reverently studied the shiny green leaves and white berries cradled in his hand.

“I think you should be the one to show Odin where you found the sacred plant. He will be very grateful. Perhaps he’ll even let you be part of the ceremony, since you were the one who found the mistletoe.” Laudine hugged her stunned grandson.

“I can lead the Archdruid Odin to the oak tree?” Lukaz’ incredulous voice was a breathless whisper. He glanced at Ulla, whose dark green eyes glistened like emeralds in the golden light of the afternoon sun. “But Lady Ulla found the mistletoe plant. She should be the one to lead the Archdruid there, not me.”

Laudine smiled at the lovely, dark-haired priestess. “Well, I’m sure you can both take Odin to the mistletoe plant. After all, you were with Ulla when she found it. That makes you her partner, doesn’t it?”

As Lukaz launched himself into Laudine’s loving embrace, the sound of horses’ hooves, men’s voices, and shouting servants caused a commotion at the front of the castle.

Breathless with excitement, Ma?lys came running into the kitchen nook, panting with exertion. “Madame, they’re just arrived from Aquitaine! Your two sons—and their knights from le Chateau de Montmarin in Biarritz.” Cheeks flushed, ample bosom heaving, the plump servant delivered the thrilling news.

“Sir Gaultier and Sir Cardin have come home to Brocéliande!”