Path of the Ancients

Brannan woke with a start, his senses struggling to comprehend his sudden unease. His tent was dark, the rain outside snapping and clicking on the canvas. He quietly slipped from his covers and tied on his boots. Carrie mumbled across from him. He could make out her form digging deeper under her covers, escaping the cold night as she slept.

He pulled the flap aside and stared into the dark. The moon was hidden behind swollen grey clouds, its light barely visible in the sky. Two tents stood silently across from his. A fire pit long extinguished centered between all three. Somewhere far in the distance a gentle rumble of thunder arose and slowly faded as it rolled overhead. With a last look at Carrie, he slapped a ball cap on his head and stepped out into the rain. He slowly released the flap and let it quietly fall back into place.

Outside of the rain, the world was quiet. He turned about and surveyed the forest surroundings. There wasn’t much to see. The trees grew thick all around, the forest dense and dark. He paused and looked north. He wasn’t sure but he thought he’d seen a faint glow somewhere in the trees. The feeling of unease that had awakened him once again tickled across his flesh. He thought about grabbing his rifle but decided against it. He had his knife on him and he had no plans of fighting whatever might be out there. Again the faint glow pulsed. Taking a deep breath and one final look around, he headed into the trees.

Several hundred yards into the forest confirmed there was indeed something up ahead. As he got nearer he could tell the glow was a fire of some kind. It flickered and throbbed casting dancing shadows of the trees everywhere. He stopped at the edge of a clearing similar to his camp. It was empty but for a small circle of standing stones. The fire was in the middle of them though he couldn't see it for a stone blocking his view. He crouched and waited. Five minutes, ten and finally fifteen. Nothing moved but for the rain and the flickering light. He stood and stepped out from hiding. Nothing happened. He crossed over quickly to the stones and peered around the corner. In the center of the ring was a solitary stone. It stood three feet high with a large crack rising from the base and dwindling towards the top. Some type of tree branch was growing from the crack. The stone was smooth with patches of moss and algae covering its surface. A small spring was gurgling out of the crack and running off in twists and turns into the forest. A small fire bobbed and weaved atop it. Curious, Brannan stepped around the stone and into the circle.

A bright searing light stabbed his eyes forcing him to cover his face with his arm. He instinctively stepped backwards, his body pressing against the stone. He could feel its warmth through his clothes. He held his breath, frozen in panic, his mind racing for answers. He realized not only did the stone feel warm but so did the air. He also realized the rain had stopped. He could here birds chirping to one another all around. The forest had suddenly come alive with sounds. He slowly dropped his arm but kept his eyes shut. He quietly exhaled and relaxed his body. Ever so slowly he opened his eyes.

Fat cottony clouds lazily drifted across a strikingly blue sky. The sun burned brightly, its heat tempered by a gentle cool breeze. The leaves in the trees rustled contently, their branched swaying to an unheard rhythm. The standing stones still circled the clearing. The solitary stone no longer stood before him. In its place rose an immense oak tree. Brannan guessed it was at least forty feet around. Its trunk stood about twenty feet high before splitting off into dozens of thick branches. Even with his head tilted back, Brannan couldn’t see the top. It was possibly two hundred feet tall. The branches spread out over the stones and into the surrounding trees, hundreds of feet. Awed by such a wonder he stepped forward and placed his hand on the rough bark. He felt a brief vibration then nothing. The wood was warm to the touch. He felt another slight vibration then nothing again. Then the same thing happened again. He pulled his hand away as if burned.

“What the hell is going on?” He cautiously leaned forward and placed his ear against it…waited. His eyes grew wide and again he jerked back, this time stepping away from the tree.

“That’s a pulse for crying out loud.” He turned around, hopelessly looking for anything that would make sense. “What’s happening to me?”

“Your quest has brought you to me Brannan of Lire, son of Durrow.” The voice arose from everywhere and nowhere. It filled the clearing and silenced the world around it. To Brannan, it sounded like branches being pulled apart and dried leaves blowing in the wind. He spun to face the oak.

“You’ve got to be kidding me…”

A semblance of a face gazed down from the trunk. There were features of eyes, nose and mouth. But their outlines faded into leaves and bark. It was a face he’d seen hundred of times throughout his journeys across Europe. It was found on abbeys and churches, in museums and castles, drawn in manuscripts and fitted in stained glass.

“You know me Brannan of Lire, son of Durrow.” Again the sound of splitting wood, of ancient awakenings, of magic. The face did not move, its lips never parting but Brannan knew it was the tree speaking.

“Yes, I know you. You are Cernunnos, Herne the Hunter, The Horned God. You are The Green Man, lord of the animals and plants. You are the ruler of The Green World.”

“Yes Brannan of Lire, son of Durrow. I am all that and more. I am the bridge between your world and the Other.”

“Why am I here Green Man? I have broken none of your laws. I have respect for you and yours.”

“You seek for things long forgotten, lost long ago. Relics of power.”

“I do. I seek the three treasures Manannan gave to Cormac Mac Art. I must find them to stop something horrible from happening.”

“The Cup, the Branch and the Cloth.”

“Yes! Please, can you help me?”

“You must seek the Cup Brannan of Lire, son of Durrow. Without its truth you will never find the others. You must go to The Blest Isle. There the Cup of Truth resides.”

“But no one knows where that is. It’s just a story made up by the church.”

“No!” The power behind the word slammed into him from all sides, driving the breath from his lungs. “Deceptions and cunning from His followers. Ancient truths buried under centuries of twisting words and corrupt teachings.”

Brannan shook his head to stop the ringing. The air around him felt heavy and stale. “So what is the truth? What happened?”

“You know the truth. Bran, son of Febal sailed to the Blessed Isles and earned his revenge.”

“And then Bran and his crew told their story before sailing back out to see and never being heard from again. Yes I know the story. But the island doesn’t exist. There isn’t anything off the coast of Ireland that hasn’t been mapped.”

“There are but a few who know the true path to the Blest Isle Brannan of Lire, son of Durrow. Bran was but a mortal being. It is his blood that guards the secret.”

A slow smile crept across Brannan’s face as he realized what the Green Man told him. “And where can I find his…what would they be? How many ‘greats’ do I put in front of grandchildren?”

The pressure in the air began to build. Brannan felt it squeezing him tight. His head began to throb and ache. “Seek me in your world. Find the answer there.” The pain became unbearable and darkness swallowed him.

Brannan sat up, the covers sliding down to his waist. He was in his tent, the faint light of day making the inside bright. He looked over to where Carrie should be but her sleeping bag was empty. He heard noises outside. He tossed the covers off and stood. He looked down at his cold feet. Socks but no boots. They were still by the flap where he had placed them before going to bed last night. Someone laughed outside.

He stumbled out of the tent while attempting to pull his boot on. Carrie was sitting by the fire pit along with Michael and Fiona. Thick smoke rose from the pit as they tried in vain to start a fire.

“Morning sleepy head”, Carrie shot at him as she stirred instant coffee in a can. “Glad you finally decided to join us.”

“I don’t understand”, replied Brannan looking up into the sky. The rain had stopped sometime during the night but the massive grey clouds still loomed dangerous overhead.

Michael walked over and handed Brannan a mug. “What’s there to not understand? You overslept but Carrie said to let you sleep. I guess you were tossing and turning all night. Had some crazy dreams did you?”

“Aha! We have fire.” Fiona stepped back as the flame grew and engulfed the sticks. “Let’s get that coffee heated missy.”

Carrie laughed as she positioned the can next to the flame.

Brannan stared at the three of them in disbelief. Tossed all night? Bad dreams? He shook his head and walked over to join them.

“Well would you look at that.”

Brannan followed Michael’s gaze. Standing outside the clearing was a slender doe. She was silently watching them, watching Brannan. She blinked once, turned and bound into the trees. Brannan watched her disappear.

“Well that was odd”, said Fiona as she turned back to the fire. Brannan kept staring into the forest. It suddenly dawned on him witch direction the doe had gone.

“Son of a bitch!” He dropped the mug and ran after the doe.

“Brannan! What the hell are you doing?” Carrie stood in shock. “Where the hell are you going? Brannan!”

He ignored their shouts and kept running. In the light of day it was easier to avoid the fallen logs and branches that reached out. He was faintly aware of the others following behind him, calling his name. A few moments later he broke through the trees and into a clearing. The rest of the group caught up to him.

“Brannan”, said Carrie hold him arm, “what’s gotten into you?”

Brannan ignored her question; just looked about him. The standing stones were still there but time had caught up with them. Some of them were broken and a few had crumbled all together. Everything was covered with moss and vines. The trees had encroached upon the clearing taking over much of the space. He walked forward. “I was here last night.”

The three began talking at once. “What are you talking about”, asked Carrie, “you were in the tent all night.”

“Just stay there a minute”, Brannan responded waving a hand at them. He entered the circle. The remains of the solitary stone were still there. The tree growing from the crack had grown taller before dying and rotting. No spring bubbled out from the crumbled base. Debris littered the ground.

“Looks like kids come out here and party”, said Michael walking up beside him. “How did you know this was here Bran?”

Brannan walked around, kicking at the bottles and plastic bags. “I don’t understand. It’s got to be here somewhere.”

“What are you talking about?” Carrie stepped over to him and placed a hand gently on his shoulder. “What are you looking for?”

“A clue to the treasure. The Green Man said it would be here.”

Carrie exchanged worried glances with the others.
“I’m not crazy Carrie”, Brannan said catching their looks, “I know what I know.”

He walked over and knelt next to the crumbled stone and rotted tree. He noticed where the crack had been, how there was a hole in the stone going into the ground. Cautiously he stuck his hand in and felt around.

“Christ are you mad”, demanded Michael, “God only knows what’s down there.”

Brannan pulled his hand out. He was holding a worn piece of paper. He smoothed it out and looked it over. He began to chuckle.

The three walked up and looked over his shoulder. The paper was some sort of advert.

The O’Neil Charter Company
Authentic Irish Fishing Tours
Large Parties Welcome
Doohoma, Ireland
Tel:+ 555 (0) 97 81000
Ask for Tommy

Fiona looked at the others. “What the hell does that mean?”

Brannan folded the paper and stuck it in his pocket. “It means its time to pack up. We’re going to Doohoma for a little fishing.”