WINDS OF ETERNITY.

by Nancy Eddy.

Author's note

I came up with the name of this series before ever hearing of WINDS OF WAR which Dark Shadows creator and producer Dan Curtis directed. When I did hear of the mini-series, I thought it an - interesting coincidence. Enjoy.

Chapter One.

England, 4th Century, A.D.

The merchant stood at the center of the group of men, his sharp eyes knowing from experience those who looked at his wares intending to buy. He was waiting for a question, one above others, and it was not long in coming.

"What news have you, friend merchant, for those who have known you all of your life?"

Spreading his arms wide for effect, the merchant answered. "Wondrous news, friends. A new belief. A better one than the Druids offer."

A few buyers rolled their eyes as if to say, "Nothing new." The merchant's dislike of the Druid priests was well known among those in the village. Eighteen summers before, he had asked them for a son and received a daughter. And if that had not been enough, his wife had died in spite of all the magic the priests could work. Since that time, it was not uncommon for the merchant to speak against the Druids. It was also dangerous. There were among the crowd spies who listened and reported back to the priests.

"A belief in one G.o.d instead of many," the merchant continued. "A merciful G.o.d who does not force others to accept His edicts as law." Many in the group began to move cautiously away. If the spies were here, it would not do to be seen listening to such sacrilege. And the spies could be anyone - even one's own neighbors - just as the High Priests could be. Seeing that he had lost part of his audience, the merchant's eyes darted around the smaller crowd. "There is more, but now is not the time. I must make haste to see my daughter. It has been a long journey and I am weary. My home is open to

any who wish to hear more." With a deep bow, he packed away his goods and led his mount and pack animal down the dirt lane.

As he approached the large stone house, the merchant paused. His golden-haired daughter was standing with a tall, dark man. Beside them, a black stallion pawed the ground, a black stallion that the merchant easily recognized. There was none other like it in the area. As he watched, his daughter wished the man good-bye and stood beside the road as he mounted and rode away. Walking slowly, the merchant waited until he was very near the girl before speaking. "Grendl."

Her blue eyes widened in surprise at his familiar voice, then she turned to look down the path the horse and rider had taken. Smiling nervously, she looked back at her father. "Father. You have returned early, I did not expect you for another fortnight."

"What business did Andemus have here, daughter?"

"None. He often comes here when you are away, to make sure I am well and not in need," she said, slipping her arm through his. "He is a neighbor, Father. Do not be angry."

"I am not angry, daughter." He called for a servant-boy to take the animals, retrieving a cloth-wrapped package from the donkey's back.

"What is that?" Grendl wanted to know.

"Something for you. Let us go inside first."

In the house, he called for a drink, then gave her the gift. With deft fingers, she unfastened the wrapping and gasped with delight at the small silver box that fit into one well shaped hand. "It is - beautiful. Is it truly - silver?"

His smile was indulgent. "It is." "Thank you, Father." She held the silver box up to let it reflect the afternoon sunlight, wondering what Andemus would think of her new treasure.

Andemus dismounted and tossed his horse's reins to a waiting servant without really noticing the boy. His mind was still too full of Grendl's big blue eyes and of their morning meeting in the oak grove. Why would she not marry him, he wondered. He had land, a fine house, and he loved her. Surely she did not suspect the truth. It was only known to the other priests.

A cruel-faced man of his own age stood waiting impatiently in the hall. "Andemus. Where have you been?"

Andemus sighed, used to such questions, leading him into the study. "For a ride, Damian."

"The merchant has returned." "Oh?" was Andemus' only response. Would her father's return prevent Grendl from seeing him? he wondered silently.

"He spoke against us in the village." Andemus sat down. "That is nothing new, Damian. He makes a habit of doing so. No one listens to him."

"It is time that he be punished," Damian insisted.

"He has been warned - " Andemus reminded the other man.

"But he did not heed the warning. He is a fool, Andemus. A dangerous fool. It must be done without delay."

Rising, Andemus went to the window. But instead of the green fields beyond the stables, he saw Grendl's trusting blue eyes. "Do what you must, Damian. But leave me out of it. I must maintain no connection with Druid activity if I am not to be discovered." Forgive me, Grendl, he thought to himself. I have no choice.

Grendl was admiring the silver box the next morning when she heard a commotion in the stable. Running out onto the cobbled courtyard, she saw the stable boy run from the building, terror in his young eyes. "What is wrong, Tyan?"

"It's terrible, Miss. The - Druids. They - he finally said too much."

She shook the boy, fear making her impatient. "What are you babbling about?"

"Y-Your father, Miss."

Her fear grew as Grendl ran past Tyan and into the dark stable. She found her father's crushed and b.l.o.o.d.y body in his mount's stall. She knew before searching for a heartbeat that he was dead. "Tyan!"

He was behind her, hovering in the stall opening. "Yes, Miss?"

"Get someone to help move him to the house. Where is his horse?"

"It - ran away when I opened the stall."

"Did you see what happened?"

"No, Miss. He was 1-like that when I came in to feed and set the horses loOse." He swallowed convulsively. "I - I will h-help you move him -"

"I told you to get help to move him, Tyan," she said more harshly than she intended. Hearing his normally soft spoken mistress speak so sharply sent Tyan running from the stable to find help. Kneeling beside her father's broken body, she felt the coldness of his skin and shuddered. His fist was clenched tightly around something, and when Grendl pried his fingers open she found a single acorn.

The Druids. Her father's death had been meant as a warning against others not to speak against them. Hearing voices, Grendl put the acorn into her pocket and went to meet the help that Tyan had brought.

She was alone in the main room of the house when Andemus was shown in. As soon as they were alone, he said, "I came as soon as I heard the news."

Grendl went into his arms. "Oh, An-demus. I am so glad you did." She pressed her face into his shoulder and began to cry.

Andemus waited for her to stop before saying anything. "What happened? From what my servants heard his horse trampled him."

Grendl moved away, placing her hand in her pocket, where it closed around the small object there. "No. He was murdered."

"Murdered? By who?"

"The Druids. They killed him to silence him."

"But - you cannot be sure of that, Grendl," he said carefully.

She held out the acorn. "This is all the proof I need. I found this in his hand. It was a warning."

Andemus made no move to take the acorn from her. "What will you do now?"

"Do? What can I do but continue what he began? He told me last night that the Romans have outlawed the Druids in other areas. He wanted that to happen here."

"If you speak against them, you could be killed as well."

Throwing the acorn into the fire, Grendl's face grew determined. "I do not care."

"Then you do not care for me."

"Of course I do." Her fingers caressed his cheek lightly before she moved away. "But don't you understand? I cannot let them get away with this. I will not."

"If you marry me, then no one would dare harm you."

"Andemus, what I must do will be dangerous. If I were to marry you, you would be in danger as well."

"I would not mind."

"I would. I will not ask you to support my cause publicly, but do not condemn me for it. I beg of you."

"Never. I only ask that you be careful, Grendl. The Druids can be ruthless. Even more than you know."