Daughter Of The Morning
Full Circle

Cerian dismounted and turnedto Herne, “Where are we now, Lord?”

He appeared to consult some internalclock before replying, “Approximately thirty of your minutes afterwe left the Abbey. The others will have dispersed, their part in the ceremony was over when we disappeared.”

Ceri nodded thoughtfully asif considering something else, eventually she spoke, “You used that magic ofyours to bring us back, didn’t you?”

“Of course,” Herne’s eyes glinted wickedly, “the very anonymity of where we have just been makes it an admirable place for those whohave passed into the Sleep of Waiting to dwell until such time asone may raise them from it. But it would be too far for us to travel in a single day so I merelyused what magic I possessed to make our journey somewhat shorter. Happy now?”

Ceri threw back her head andlaughed, when she could speak she replied, “Yes, Lord Cernunnos, I’m happynow. I’m going to have a bath and dressin my old clothes, then I think it’s about time that I went home.”

Herne nodded, “For themoment, it is over. You will go home andit may be that all this will fade into your distant memory.”

“Never!” Ceri replied vehemently, “never Cernunnos,and I don’t think that I shall be able to forget what has happened, do you?”

Cernunnos knelt before herand this time smiled, “Oh my Lady, I do not think you will forget, although youmay wish that this part of your life did not exist, for this quest is not yetover.”

“I had a feeling you mightsay that,” Ceri remarked dryly. “But Isuspected as much, after all it was promised that I would see Ambrosius againand raise him and Niniane from their sleep. I shall go back to the world, but not my world and this world will become somewhat dim, at least for a while.”

“I don’t know when I’ll seeyou again,” Herne said softly, “it may be at least a year.”

“Yes.” Ceri nodded, “but if time is short it may notbe as long as you think.”

“Mmm.” Herne appeared toponder this for a moment and then he said, “The Ancient Ones have waited manycenturies for you to appear, what is one more year?”

“We shall see, LordCernunnos,” Cerian replied, she stared out at the apple orchards surroundingthe Abbey and at the bare trees their branches waving in the wind, “but I donot know what I feel at present.”

“Lost.” Herne said unexpectedly his handsclosing on her shoulders, “I know, they say at the end of things onefeels satisfaction but I have never felt it, only a greatsense of loss and sometimes a feeling of triumph, but those times have been very few. There iscertainly a feeling of not knowing what to do next, I am afraid that I cannot helpyou, I only hope that you make the transition back to your own world withouttoo much pain.”

“Will I always have thesepowers?” Cerian asked.

“Oh, yes.” Cernunnos nodded, “it is unlikely that youwill use them in your own time simply because of the way that you areperceived. You will be regarded as aschoolgirl again and not as a Princess in her own right.”

Ceri nodded wearily, sheturned back to the Abbey and said, “I’ll go and have my bath. When can you be ready to leave?”

“Soon, my Princess,” Hernesaid, “I think that you ought to inform Galahad, I know that he cherishes youdearly.”

“You make him sound like alovesick swain,” Ceri muttered her blue eyes flashing.

Herne smiled the smile notquite reaching his eyes, “Perhaps he is.”

“Don’t be ridiculous!” Cerian gasped, “He daren’t fall in love withme!”

“If I recall his historyaright,” Herne responded. “He lovedsomeone very much once until she died, he has searched half the universelooking for her likeness. I have seenhim look for her in every face that entered this Abbey and he has never foundher-”

“Until me,” Ceri saidsoftly.

“Yes. Until you.” Herne said nothing for a few moments and then he continued his story,“Her name was Dindraine, Perceval’s sister, had they been different people andnot on a quest for the most precious of the Light’s objects they would probablyhave married. But Dindraine died to savethe life of a worthless harlot and Galahad grieved the rest of his days.”

“But I’m not Dindraine,”Cerian replied, “and she wasn’t me. Ifhe loves her. And sees her in me. Then he doesn’t love me.”

“Perhaps in time-” Herneleft the sentence unfinished.

“No.” Ceri’s voice was firm, “He lovesDindraine. I’m Cerian. He will be my dearest knight for all our daysbut that is all we can be. I shall goand wash my hair; perhaps you can replace the words for Galahad. I cannot.”

She nodded shortly to Herneand walked back to the Abbey. Upstairs ayoung serving-girl was waiting next to a bath, the water steamed slightly. “Couldyou fetch the clothes I arrived in, please?” Cerian asked quickly. She stripped quickly and stepped into theslightly fragrant water, she lathered her body and when the serving girlreturned Cerian asked, “Would you wash my hair?”

“Most certainly,Madam.” The girl soaped her hair andthen rinsed it with clean water, which stood in large jugs next to thebath. Ceri stepped out quickly andrubbed herself dry with the rough towels. It felt peculiar to dress again in her nightdress, dressing gown and fluffyslippers. Herne entered as she wascombing her drying locks and said, “Are you ready? We must depart soon, my liege.”

“I’m ready now, Herne.” Ceri replied. Herne walked across the small room and took both Cerian’s hands in hisown. “Dear Princess,” his golden eyesseemed to become larger, “I wanted to tell you that it has been both aprivilege and an honour to serve under you.”

Cerian’s eyes filled withtears and she bent her head to hide them, “Thank you, Cernunnos,” she saidthickly.

The lawn was still silent inthe grip of an early winter frost, Ceri stood looking at the stark, silenthouse and bit her lip while the tears ran down her cheeks and dripped from herchin. Finally she turned to Cernunnos andsaid in a steady voice, “Farewell, Lord Cernunnos. I hope it will not be too long before you andI see one another again.”

Herne bowed and replied,“Go, my Princess. I know we will seeeach other again even if it is a hundred years hence.”

Cerian nodded, she steppedforward, through the wall and into her room. She turned quickly to see Herne’s form slowly fade and disappear. Iwonder if this is the last time I shall see him, she thought. She slippedback into bed her teeth chattering, and wrapped the duvet around herself in anattempt to get warm. She lay awake,staring up into the darkness and the tears started again and ran down the sidesof her face and wet her pillow.

Ceri was very subdued thenext morning, “Are you all right, love?” her mother asked quickly.

Ceri managed a painfulsmile, “I’m fine, Mum.” She lied, “just not looking forward to going back toschool.”

Her mother put an arm aroundher shoulders and said, “I know, I know. But once you’re there it’ll flash by and you’ll be home againbefore you know it.”

“Yes, I suppose so,” Cerimurmured doubtfully.

“Would you like to go to WindsorGreat Park with your father tomorrow?” Her mother asked, “you’ll have to setoff quite early - would you like that?”

Ceri’s eyes lit up. “Could Ireally?”

Her mother laughed, “I thinkyour Dad would like the company and it’ll give me a day of peace to sort outyour clothes.”

“Can you feel the babykicking yet?”

“Not yet,” Mum repliedgently, “they usually start to kick around the third month.”

“Oh,” Ceri replied. Then changing the subject, “What time are we leaving?”

“You’d better ask yourfather that.” She replied, “probably at some Godforsaken hour like half pastfive.”

Her father was burning thelast of the rubbish at the top of the garden; he turned as he heard Ceri’sfootsteps scrunch on the frosty grass. “What is it, love?”

Ceri stood panting for acouple of minutes before replying, “I came to ask if I could come to WindsorGreat Park with you tomorrow.”

“Of course, sweetheart.” He replied, “it may be a little boring foryou, I just want to do a bit more research in the Chapel - still want to come?”

“Please!” Ceri’s lowerlip quivered and for a moment it looked as though she was about to cry.

“Very well-” It seemed as if her father was going to say more but whatever itwas, was lost as Ceri threw herself at him and buried her face in his jumper. “Hey! What’s this?” Helaughed as he gently disentangled her arms, “why the hug?”

Ceri gazed up at him andsaid, “I just felt like hugging you, that’s all.”

He wrapped his arms aroundher and pulled her close to him. Ceri hugged him wanting to hold onto himforever, for them to remain locked as one person.

“Richard, Richard!” Her mother’s voice broke the spell; her father lifted his head andcalled, “What is it, love?”

“Supper’s ready - are youtwo coming?”

He gently shook Ceri’sshoulder and she looked up, “Let’s not keep Mum waiting,” she said, “I don’tfancy it cold.”

“Me neither,” he replied,and they walked down the garden together hand in hand.

“Are you going to doanything exciting this term?” Her father asked as they ate.

“I doubt it,” Ceri grimaced,“it’ll be absolutely freezing at Powys Hall; it’s the only place I’ve ever knownshampoo to freeze!”

“You mentioned it in one ofyour letters home,” her father said between mouthfuls, “still you’ve got yourwinter duvet there and you can take one of our hot water bottles.”

“Yes but they go cold soquickly,” Ceri replied plaintively, “and when it’s cold in the morning I neverwant to get out of bed.”

“That’s normal,” her motherlaughed.

Ceri nodded and returned herattention to the meal. Her mother made thesandwiches that night and packed them carefully in the cold box. “I’ve made chicken sandwiches for bothof you, there’s salad in the ice-cream container, I’ve put a couple of applesin and two bags of crisps - I’ve also put a slab of chocolate in for you. I don’t think you’ll go hungry.”

“Are you sure you’ll be allright here on your own?” Ceri asked quickly suddenly feeling terriblyguilty.

“I think so,” her motherreplied, “I’m going to have a nice long lie in bed and then I shall potterquietly around the house. You two go offand have a nice day.”

“I think we can do that, Connie,”her father wrapped his arms around his wife and he bent to kiss the top of herhead.

The next morning when herfather shook her awake, Ceri dressed quickly and slipped outside. The sun was a crimson ball just resting on thehorizon as she opened the car door and stepped inside. She dozed for most of the journey and openedher eyes just as the Range Rover turned into the road that led up to WindsorGreat Park. The trees that lined theirroute were stark and bare; their grey branches cutting into the flinty blue ofthe sky, and this time there were no dryads within them to greet her.

Her father’s hand touchedher thigh, “What is it?”

“Nothing,” Ceri turned toface him and forced a smile, “nothing at all. I was just a bit shocked - the trees look so bare and lifeless - quite acontrast from the last time we were here.”

“Yes.” Her father murmuredthoughtfully, “but last night you were so excited - almost as if you werecoming here to meet someone - and just then you looked so stricken - as ifyou’d been told that they’d just died.”

“Do you believe in demons?” Ceriasked suddenly, changing the subject.

“That depends on what youmean by demons,” he replied, “I believe in forces beyond our control - mostdemons are the result of man’s inner fears or guilt complexes. Why do you ask?”

“Because I believe in atleast one demon,” Ceri said softly, “the one who inhabits this park. Herne theHunter.”

“Yes.” Her fatherreplied, “I believe in the legend - but legends change with the telling andpeople may have seen one thing and attributed it to the demon. People were very superstitious in mediævaltimes.”

He stopped the car and theyboth got out, Ceri pulled her anorak on and then said, “But I believe he exists- I’ve seen him!”

Her father turned to faceher, his face suddenly pale and for a moment Ceri was afraid he was angry withher, for a long time he didn’t speak and then he said, “You’ve seen Him? The Hunter?”

Ceri nodded dumbly her heartaching, she wanted to reach out and hug the man she had always regarded as herfather but she couldn’t move. Herfather licked his lips and then said, “I saw Him once, a long time ago, at hisOak, it was where I found your mother.”

“How?” Ceri’s voice emergedas a squeak.

Her father didn’t answer; heopened the door of the car and said, “Get in.” Ceri climbed inside. Heclosed the door and began to speak, “I was staying at a hotel across fromWindsor Great Park, I can remember that day as if it were yesterday. It was a hot summer day, but dull andovercast,” he smiled to himself, “I thought it was going to rain. I had spent much of the day trampingaround the Park wishing that I was somewhere else when it seemed as if by chance I found myself approaching Herne’s Oak. I remember standing reading the inscriptionwhen I suddenly heard a woman moaning. It seemed to be coming from the other side of the tree; I walkedaround it and saw her. She was in thelast stages of labour. I helped her to her feet and drove her to the hospital;you were delivered five hours later. Then the woman started bleeding internallyand there was nothing that the doctors or the midwives could do about it. Shelooked up at me and begged me to return her to the park. Against all thedoctors’ orders I signed the release form and did as she asked, she told me toleave her by the Oak, but I couldn’t, so I stayed with her and the last thingshe said was “Take care of the baby. Her name is Cerian, Cerian Aurelia.” Shejust slipped away, “Everyone assumed we were married. I took you from themidwife and I felt an instant attraction-” he broke off and turned to stare atCeri.

“Why didn’t you ever tellme?”

“We were going to this year.Her father smiled at the memory, “After all I have no idea who your mother was,perhaps she was another homeless vagrant who’d become pregnant and didn’trealise it until it was too late to have the baby aborted. I couldn’t give youup to the orphanages not after I’d held you. So I simply pretended that youwere my daughter. I spent a lot of time out of the country in those days so itwas easier than I thought it would be. Then I met your stepmother when you were four and you both seemed tolike one another very much, and I’d fallen in love with her, so I married her.”

“So when did you see theHunter?” Ceri asked quietly.

“I came here when you wereabout five, you and your stepmother sat in the car and I suddenly came face toface with this antlered creature.”

“What did you do?”

“Thought I washallucinating,” her father replied, “then it spoke to me, it said, ‘Greetings,Richard, I am Herne the Hunter. I charge you to take good care of the child youhave adopted, many things may stand or fall because of her.” Then itdisappeared and I was alone. I kept it to myself because I didn’t want to besent to a Mental Institution. You say you met the Hunter too?”

“The first time we came hereI met the Hunter,” Cerian replied, “and I wanted nothing to do with any of it -and I’m still not sure now!”

“What happened?” Her fatherasked gently.

“I met my real father, andI’d just got to know him when he died, I thought I would split in two. I saw him as a true friend and I miss himmore than I can possibly say-” Ceri broke off and began to cry, she cried as if her heart was breaking, she heard his car dooropen and then her door open and she was gathered up in a pair of strongarms. He rocked her gently until her sobs abated, then he handed her a cleanhandkerchief, “Dry your eyes,” he ordered, “I think we ought to talk.”

He climbed in his side ofthe car and stared out into the brightening day, “It must be hard for you,coming to terms with all this.”

“Its harder coming to termswith the powers I have,” Ceri replied, “I’m sorrier for you - why didn’t youever tell me?”

A smile cracked the man’ssombre mask, “Because I promised and I keep my promises - no matter howridiculous. Besides which, I did not know what these powers had in store foryou - you might not have come back to me!”

“You think so little of me?”Ceri stared at him.

“Not of you - of those whomyou serve. Your blood ties are somewherein the past, you have none in the present, how hard can it be for you to breakyour ties here?”

“You and Mum are as much myparents as are Ambrosius and Cerian,” Ceri replied taking both her father’shands in her own, “in fact more so because you both brought me up, I look toyou for my behaviour, I look to you for praise and punishment, I love you bothbecause you are my parents if not by blood, then by the simple fact that youwere there.” Cerian smiled and then herexpression became sombre again, “I did come here with an ulterior motive, I hadhoped to see Herne again, to ask his advice, but there’s nothing here.”

“I must confess that I camewith an ulterior motive too,” her father replied, “I wanted to see if you werethe one chosen, there seemed to be no significant change in you and I thoughtthat if anything was going to happen it would be this year or not at all - sowhen you said that you wanted to come I thought it would be ample opportunityto see if I dreamed the whole thing up out of my head.”

“And you didn’t.” Ceriresponded, “how do you cope?”

“In the beginning Iconvinced myself that you were the daughter of a woman I had loved and that shewas dead, I’d almost convinced myself of it, and I tried to bury myself in mywork in the hope of distancing myself from you, except that never worked as youseemed to be drawn to me. So I watchedyou grow and held my secret in my heart and hoped that you could grow toadulthood in the twentieth century.”

“Why isn’t Herne here?” Ceriasked plaintively, she wrapped her arms around herself and buried her chin inher chest.

“Perhaps because you’ve doneall you can do for the moment,” her father said softly, “perhaps we have towork this out together.”

“I probably have to workthis out alone,” Ceri remarked to no-one in particular, “I’m just becoming usedto my new status and I have to return to my old one. It’s no fun.”

“Its no fun knowing aboutit,” her father murmured softly.

“Can we go for a walksomewhere,” Ceri said quickly, “Iknow you have work to do.”

“All right.” Together they walked hand in hand alongthe path through the forest. A thinlayer of frost still glimmered on the ground and as they stepped through someof the tall grasses a cloud of small white moths fluttered from their depths.

“Don’t disturb them,” Cerisaid softly. Her father stood wide eyedas the moths spun upwards around him like a cloud of snowflakes.

“Aren’t theybeautiful...what are they?” Her father asked.

“Plume moths,” Ceri gazed ather father, a mixture of love and regret in her eyes, “There’s an old sayingabout them, that they carry memories away.” The last of the moths fluttered upwards into the morning and herfather shook himself like a dog emerging from a river.

“Dad?” Ceri said softly,“anything the matter?”

He looked down at her apuzzled expression on his face, “What was I talking about?” he smiled at hisdaughter, “my mind’s gone completely blank.”

“Something to do with work,”Ceri lied.

“Ah yes. I’ll give you the keys of the car and you cansit in there if you like. I’ll be back for lunch and then we can get home. Suit you?”

“That’s fine,” Cerireplied. She watched as her father beganto walk purposefully towards the Chapel and at that moment she felt Herne’s handon her shoulder. She turned around and flung herself into his arms, “Youcame! Oh you came! I thought you’d never come!”

Herne held her tightly andthen released her, “I am sorry for what I did,” she said, “but it has been hardfor him these past years, better that he should believe that I am his daughter,do you not think?”

“I was not about toreprimand you,” Herne said softly, “I think you have done the only thing youcould. He hoped so much that you couldbe his daughter in every sense of the word and never know how you were found orhow you’re Destiny might be affected.”

“Can we talk for a little,Lord?” Ceri asked tentatively, “I came back here because I wanted to talk toyou - when we drove through the gates and you were not here to greet me Ithought that I’d lost you.”

“You’ll never lose me,” wasHerne’s reply, “you are my Salvation. I did not greet you because I was not sure that I needed to, my Princessyou have come so far, are you still so unsure of yourself and your power?”

Ceri smiled, “I have justbecome used to my rôle; I hope I never take the power I wield for granted andnow I have to become a schoolgirl again. I never was a good actor, Cernunnos.”

“Then you will have to learnhow to become one,” Herne replied. “Isuggest that we go and refresh ourselves and discuss matters.”

Ceri smiled at him, “May Itake us there this time?”

“With pleasure,” Hernereplied, “Glastonbury, please.”

Ceri nodded and turned toface the trees, they wavered slightly as if blown by a breeze and then it seemed to Cerias if the form of the Abbey at Glastonbury began to take shape beforethem gradually obscuring them from view as it solidified and thenthey stood in the orchard. It was winter and the skeletons of the trees madeCeri shiver.

Herne mistook her shiveringfor the cold, “Come inside,” he said quickly, “let’s get a cup of somethingwarm into you.”

Ceri sat before a roaringfire and looked across at Herne, “This was where Galahad was injured.”

“Yes.” Herne replied, “atthe moment it is the best that we have. We do not have many visitors after the Midwinter Solstice. I wanted to bring you here because I want totell you something.”

“My Lord,” Ceri gazed athim. “You told me all I needed to know the last time we met - let it wait untilwe meet again.”

“Nevertheless, I feel Ishould say it.” Herne paused to let the import of his words sink in and then hetook her hands and said, “Sometimes I forget that you are a child that you havenot been schooled in the way of nobility and I forget too that this must behard for you. If I do so in the future -I trust you will tell me. Never forget that all of the Ancient Ones areproud of you, there have been others who have had the same rights to yourthrone who have not behaved half as well as you. Drink your cocoa and then we will return.”

This time it was gentlermotion, they appeared in almost exactly the same place as they had before andCeri saw a familiar figure coming towards them, “Dad!” She crieddelightedly,

Herne laid a gentle hand on her shoulder, “Do not blameyourself for what you had to do, if he knew that with each step you take towards us you lose him it would grieve him. Remember, he is a good man andI placed my trust in him a long time ago when I entrusted your upbringing andeducation to him, hold him in honour.”

“Always,” Ceri repliedsimply, “he’s my father.”

Herne watched as she rantowards the figure and upon reaching it threw her arms around him and huggedhim. Then arm in arm they walked back tothe car. Ceri unpacked the lunch andthey munched through the sandwiches while the inside of the car misted uparound them. “Did you get your work done?”

“As much as is possible,”her father replied, “the rest will have to be done on the typewriter Ifear. Did walking around a deserted parkbore you?”

“Not really,” Ceri replied,“I had a lot to think about.”

“School and the like?”

“School mostly,” she saidwrapping the utensils up. “Shall we getgoing?”

“Certainly,” her fatherreplied. He turned the key in the ignitionand slipped the car into gear, quietly the Range Rover purred down the drive.

Ceri looked into the sidemirror and saw Herne standing beside one of the oaks, Farewell, Lord she thought.

Farewell, my liege, was the reply, maywe meet again soon.

“Do you think you’ll comeback here?” Her father asked, “in thespring perhaps?”

“In the Spring,” Cerimurmured as if she had not heard and she seemed to hear distant voiceswhispering like the leaves on a hot autumn day Come back to us, Princess, come back in the spring!

“It’ll be cold in April,”she said quietly.

“But the trees will bebudding and the snowdrops blooming, Winter will be passed for one moreyear. Rejoice in the greenery of Springand return to these woods.”

Ceri glanced sharply at herfather but he was gazing out of the windscreen, “You sound just like a Druid.”

“I just like life,” herfather replied, “in all its forms and we should always rejoice that thedarkness of winter is over. Say you’llcome back here with me when the new grass is growing and the skies are clear.”

“All right,” Ceri replied dubiously,“Then I’ll come back with you in April.”