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A few men had chopped wood for the altar that would claim her body. It had been constructed meticulously, with big logs and smaller twigs mixed in, guaranteeing an even burn. The four Doyle princes lifted their mother’s body and placed it on the wooden slabs that would be her final resting place. Their quiet sobs cut through Oliver’s heart like a knife.
When everyone had gathered around, Emma stepped forward. “Queen Grian, you have served your clan and your sons faithfully, keeping them safe from harm. You have used your talents for good, never giving in to the seduction of the dark magic around you. And in your last moments, you gave us your blessing and your fire. For this, we honor you. As we light this fire and commit your body to the flames, we send our love with it and our wishes that in the eternal realm, you will find the freedom and peace you never had in your life.”
Tears streamed down Oliver’s face. Such a beautiful tribute.
While Erwan and his brothers lit a torch from a small fire that had been burning and stepped up to the four corners of the altar, a voice rang out, crystal clear as it sang.
O dim delicious heaven of dreams-
The land of boyhood’s dewey glow-
Again I hear your torrent streams
Through purple gorge and valley flow,
Oh, it was Ian. He had a lovely voice, so bright and pitch-perfect. And such a perfect song, an ode to the green hills of Ireland.
Whilst fresh the mountain breezes blow.
Above the air smites sharp and clear-
The silent lucid spring it chills
But underneath, move warm amidst
The bases of the hills.
As Ian segued into a different song, the fire under the altar was lit, and Erwan and his brother stepped back and threw their torches onto the fire. Within minutes, it roared up, taking the queen’s body with it until nothing was left.
A fruitful clime is Eire’s,
through valley, meadow, plain,
And in the fair land of Eire, O!
The very ‘bread of life’ is in the yellow grain
On the fair Hills of Eire, O!
Far dearer to me than the tones music yields,
Is the lowing of the kine and the calves in her fields
And the sunlight that shone long ago on the shields
Of the Gaels, on the fair hills of Eire, O!
When the ashes drifted down to become part of the earth, the moon shone so brightly it was almost painful to look at her. But with her light came peace, a deep knowing that the queen’s death had not been in vain, that it meant something. Oliver didn’t know what, but he had to trust in the words that had been spoken.
Everyone returned to the ranch, and Oliver hung back with Adar and Delton, going slower than the others. Had Oliver done it on purpose so they’d have some privacy? Maybe subconsciously, he had. He had something he needed to say, and while the timing might not have been perfect after the funeral, he wasn’t sure when the three of them would be in the same place again.
“Fallon talked to me,” he said, then promptly stopped walking.
Holy crap, where had those words come from? They had rolled off his tongue as if he’d never had any issues talking. How was that possible? Judging by the pure shock on the faces of the two men, he wasn’t the only one surprised.
“Oliver?” Delton put a gentle hand on his shoulder. “You okay?”
“Yeah. Just…”
