Wiccan Ritual Opens a Door to the Past

 

He slowly walked out of her reach. "I'm sorry."

 

“For what?” Shawn Michael demanded, stepping off the main path. He was quickly followed by Damien MacNab, Richard Connell,  and Keith Connell. “Explain yourself, boy!”

 

“I told you!” Keith volunteered, pointing at Shannon and Michael. “I told you they were together.”

 

Shannon Marie's gaze quickly darted from her father to the smirking Keith. Anger rose within. “Papa. Whatever he told you,” she jutted her chin in Keith's direction, “is a lie.”

 

“Shut up girl!” Richard snapped, sauntering into the glade. “He said you were together.”

 

“Harlot!” Keith smugly pointed at her; the condescension in his voice matched his father. “Just like your Seanhair!”

 

Shawn Michael snapped around; his left hand reaching for the dagger at his belt. “Richard, shut your bastard up!” The warning hung in the air between them, threatening to become more than a verbal battle.

 

“Michael?” Always the gentleman, Damien squared his shoulders and composed himself. With relaxed, yet directed long strides, he quickly crossed the distance between himself and his son. Damien reached out slightly and tilted his head so that their matching deep hazel eyes met. “Why were the two of you here together?”

 

“Father, we always come to honor Bridget.” Michael’s gaze did not waver.

 

Shannon was suddenly aware of how alike in manner and appearance they were. Without Damien’s beard, it was like the men were looking in mirror reflections of themselves; one towards the past and the other toward the future. Both were warriors; but whereas Damien had aged into a statesman, Michael still had the temperament and the physical stamina of a warrior and a hunter. Although their eyes were the same shape and color. Damien’s held wisdom. Michael’s were those of a seer who saw other times and places.

 

“I would never dishonor you or myself.” Michael continued. “Nor would I betray her father’s trust.” He turned toward Shawn. “Sir, your daughter and I have been friends for as long as I can remember. You never questioned us before. Why would you doubt us now?”

 

“We always have been together since we were children. Rachael and Scott used to come with us.” Shannon Marie interceded. “Since Scott was sent to the monastery, Rachael does not come anymore. Michael and I promise to always remember them to Bridget. We are honor-bound. Rachael gave me her offering.” She pulled the coins from her pocket.

 

“Pagan—“

 

“Shut up!” Shawn Michael snapped, cutting off Richard. The anger in his voice was sharper than the blade at his belt. “My daughter does not lie.”

 

“Neither does my”--

 

“Your son?” Richard cut Damien off. “Are you dishonoring your legit heirs by acknowledging your bastard?”

 

Shawn Michael crossed the few yards between himself and Shannon Marie. His voice softened when he spoke to her, yet the anger, which was only inches away, remained directed at the Connells. “Little Elf, what oath did you give.”

 

“The four of us made a blood oath on Bridget’s altar to be each other’s defenders and protectors.” Michael quickly answered, stepping toward the father and daughter pair. “We are one in her name.”

 

“Yes, Papa. It is true.” Shannon Marie looked up into her father’s eyes, trying to get him to understand how she felt about Michael without her being forced to put it into words. They were more than friends, yet they both knew that was all it would ever be. How could she speak what her heart felt in front of all of them when she could not say it out loud to the person who meant the most?  Angrily she looked at the Connells.

 

Arrogantly,  Keith stood beside his father,  his arms folded across his

chest. She hated him the most for his pretense. His parentage was no better than Michael’s, yet he presented himself as a son of rank.

“But it’s none of their concern. Michael is honorable. Neither of us would do anything to disgrace ourselves or our families.” She pointed at Keith. “He cannot say the same.”

 

"There was nothing more?" Damien demanded, stepping back and scratching his graying beard.

 

“Nothing worth speaking of.” Michael whispered and turned toward the altar. “I-we-it doesn’t matter. We have done nothing to shame ourselves or our families.”

 

Damien’s voice softened as he stepped around Michael and lifted his chin as if he were a small boy instead of a nearly grown man. “Speak the words of your heart.”

 

“I can’t Father. I don’t have the right.” Michael turned away and walked back to Bridget's altar. He stood there with his back to them all.

 

Damien's gaze followed his son, but his eyes quickly moved on to the stone formation that honored The Horned One, Cernuous. Scratching his beard, he seemed to be seeking an answer from the God. He blinked and shifted his weight to look at Shawn Michael. He slightly nodded. “Your daughter is an honorable young woman. So is my son. I believe both of them.”

 

Without hesitating, Shawn Michael returned the gesture. He faltered for a moment as if he were choosing his words carefully. “The Clans have their ways for good or bad. They cannot be changed. At least not from the inside. But not all of us are from the inside. Shannon Marie’s Seanhair is not of the Clans. When I married her daughter, we created a new tradition that was not quite Clan, not quite de Medici. I agree to release my claims to my wife’s family possessions. I gave her my family's name. As with the Clans’ traditions, my eldest daughter and her husband would inherit the clan title and honors...but Madam de Medici would name her heir. Do you understand?”

 

Shannon Marie did not. There was no reason for Papa to be speaking about the family business. Especially not now. Besides, Damien was Papa’s best friend. He knew all this already. None of it was a secret.

 

Damien slowly nodded his head.

 

Shawn Michael continued. “Some traditions can be broken without reproach. Others only bent. But some traditions cannot be broken. My daughter is of honorable blood. She deserves all her birthrights. Not everyone will accept Jacqueline De Medici's decisions and choices. They will try to take by force what they can’t have by law.”

 

“Strong friends and family alliances are shelter in such storms.” Damien interjected. “An honorable family, we would fight to the death to protect their own whether by blood or marriage. I speak for MacNab Clan and all our kin and all our kin’s kin when I say we are such an honorable family.”

 

“We have an agreement!” The elder Connell angrily barked.

 

“And it will be kept!” Shawn Michael matched his tone as he snapped around. “To bring peace between our clan, my eldest daughter and heir will marry yours. I will keep my word as long as you honor your end of the bargain. Shannon Marie has been and will be Madam de Medici's heir.”

 

“That wasn’t the agreement!” Connell growled advancing on Shawn Michael. "The estates go to the husband of the eldest daughter if there is no legit male heir. My son is entitled--"

 

“To the small estate, my father shall bestow on me.” Shawn Michael cut him off. “And the title.”

 

“Only you and yours thought that there was more. The rest knew the lay of the land.” Damien added, standing beside Shawn. “You were a fool to expect otherwise.”

 

“Tradition is tradition.” The elder Connell snarled. “Eldest child--legitimate child,” he corrected himself, “inherits the family title and property.”

 

Shannon Marie knew there was more to his meaning than his words conveyed. They were talking about clan agreements and marriage as if they were interchangeable. But Seanhair taught her that she would always have the right to choose with whom she shared her bed. Did not her older sister have the same right? Again she had the strange feeling of not being alone within herself--it felt as if a stranger was also looking out of her eyes and hearing as she heard.

 

This was important. Alyssa knew it was a turning point. A path had been chosen, yet she knew not what the options were. Nor was it her right to decide. Something had been just set in motion.

 

Shannon felt the stranger within her. From the beyond, words from another place echoed within her—“To another place to the other time take me back to the beginning of this crime. Let me see and understand the unfolding of this karmic plan. Show me now in this light how to make this wrong a right.”

 

Fear suddenly overwhelmed her. Shannon did not understand why this moment was so important. Why were Damien and Papa talking formally as if they were at court? They were friends. Always. For as long as she could remember, they had spoken openly as brothers. She looked at Michael; he was closed off to her. She wanted to reach out to Papa; she couldn't force her feet to move the few steps between them.

 

“I give you my word.” Damien continued, “The MacNab Clan honors the traditions of the other clans' families. We will respect the understanding between the Cullen clan and Madam de Medici.”

 

Shawn Michael slowly nodded.

 

Damien MacNab returned the gesture. “I'll make the arrangements with Laird MacDonald to make the first announcement.” He turned toward Bridget’s altar. “Michael, come here.”

 

Michael immediately bowed in reverence to Bridget and returned to his father’s side. Damien leaned forward and whispered into his ear. For a moment, Michael stepped back, looking first at Bridget’s altar and then at Shannon.

 

Damien stepped closer and continued to speak in a voice so low it did not carry across the field. As he finished, Michael slowly nodded but said nothing.

 

Shannon Marie saw regret and sadness in his eyes. Their eyes met briefly. Michael turned away and looked at Bridget’s altar. It was like he was mourning part of himself. Disappointment and grief radiated from him.

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