The Story of Raph and Shona - a Tale of True Love
Written at the behest, and with the memories, of Queen Blodwyn
This tale begins some years ago, with a wanderer who travelled across the Heartlands. His name was Raphael, known as Raph to many, a nomad and wandering storyteller, much like you or I.
He was a scrapper and womaniser, it’s fair to say, always willing to help the cute and needy – but never just the needy! His family and village long destroyed, he roamed from place to place, selling his sword, his pen and his tongue - and letting the latter two get him into trouble!
He found himself in Caledonia from time to time, drawn by pretty scenery (of course) and the reputation of a certain lowland clan come full moon. He found plenty to his liking amongst the Clan MacTrew, in particular a fiery and feisty young healer named Shona – very much the image and spirit of Ma MacTrew in her youth.
“Never trust a bard,” I’ve often heard, for we are a roaming type – it’s not often we’re in one place for long - and usually there’s a reason why! However, the young trouble-maker found more and more reason to return to the lands of this clan, and time soon passed as he struggled through numerous turns of the full moon at Dun Tay.
Now Shona was a good lass and true, fending off the affections of a run-away admirer (unless the moon a-glinted in her eye), but soon she fell deeply and truly a-swoon for his charms and crafty tongue. The two spent more and more time together, and it was clear that something bloomed - and her family soon noticed.
Despite the hampering and encouragement of some, others decided that – if this was to continue – there should be bells and vows in the proceedings. Now Shona was truly fallen for this tearaway rogue, and would have been over the moon had he proposed; but she knew her lover well, and knew that such stirrings of ‘commitment’ could only scare the young lad away – and who could blame him!?
Her guardian struggled to hold back the family tempers but, alas, they interfered and demanded, and he fled their unwanted attention. Wiser heads knew such things would last or no as they and the ancestors willed, but alas it was times to come when those heads bestrode the chieftainship. And our poor heroine’s heart was left shattered and aquiver, constantly did she look out for the return of her wayward traveller, till months did pass – locking herself away come every full moon.
Then, one terrible morn, the bray and clamour of war descended upon this Picti clan – as the other tribes came to win their ‘fallen’ back, and attack their hated kin. Alas, for those that were not slain were dragged into captivity, enslaved against rime and reason. The Picts worked their slaves hard and cruelly, branding them with sigils of ownership, treating them harshly – until there were few and starved remains.
Our wanderer was brought by the fates again to this clan, however, in their time of need. His mercenary unit destroyed whilst he and his cousin were out drinking, the two kinsmen fled the ensuing witch-hunt to find a home with the moon-chasing clan. There they found the few scattered survivors of the Pict attack, and discovered what had befallen the clan.
It was another cruel and harsh day for our bonnie lassie as she slaved away, hammering at rocks, when the attack came. Swift and stealthy – none of the noise of the last clash – the brave clansmen struck the Picti slave camp with unrelenting fury, driving out their foes and slaying many – the heroics of that day are long and often sung by those that know the tunes.
Picture our lass’s face as a heavily armoured warrior steps from the carnage - the leader of the attack, a picture of the balanced and confident warrior; but the step is ever-so-slightly familiar, the tinny, echoing voice a tad known to her – and her former lover doffs his helmet to welcome her to freedom. Better late than never!
As realisation dawned, the love between them burst to the fore, leaving none in any doubt as she flattened him with a backhanded swipe and yelled for all she was worth! “4 years! Not a letter! You promised you’d write!” Tears flowed freely.
And soon the simmering MacTrew and her bruised lad found time alone to settle their scores and catch up on each the other’s history; and her feelings had not dwindled a jot, and neither had those of the – now more seasoned and settled – wanderer. The two settled into a happy life together, their love and affection growing just as he did every full moon… not that anyone other than her ever saw him when that season was about!
This time, the two were left to their own devices, though many were the hints that suggested where they should be heading next. But, as the lad signed up with the Caledonian army and made of himself a name, the two were finally granted some peace and space.
Now both our hero and heroine were soon noted within their faction, and rising places – going fast. Some say the Lady herself had a special place for that lass, as loving and true as ever you could ask – and faithful and true to her man, despite his quirks and faults. [And now the Queens themselves were onside and demanding the couple be left alone!]
But, alas, a darker shadow was to fall on this story of love – for true love is only ever really known through the depths of despair; an unchallenged, unfought for love, is no true love at all. And the Council of Clans arrived, a sinister affair as void-hunters stalked the undergrowth and the gathered Bears, turning their foes to their likeness with their failing breaths.
Raph was one such afflicted, turning to the beast and hiding himself away in despair and shock at his apparel. For he had been at the fore of the fighting, battling away with fierce courage. Yet still his lass stayed faithful and true, strong by his side, supportive and loving. (She rather liked the warmth at night, so I’m told!) And he learned to control it, accept it, and use it to deal death to his enemies. Until disaster struck…
You see, these beasts were able to send the afflicted into an uncontrollable frenzy, making them liabilities in the fighting that grew then thick. He found himself left unconscious, under guard in the main hall, whilst others did the fighting. And, as the selfless healer ran from need to need, the hunters got their prey… Alas, for Shona was torn from us, cut down by evil claws, her companions scattered and unable to enact a rescue.
A great loss to Caledonia was felt that night.
When news reached the bestial Raph, his wrath and frenzy were unparalled; his grief and disbelief exploded into violence, the only thing his beastly mind could comprehend. Forcing his way out of the hall, he raged and struggled, blaming himself for the form he had failed to shrug off and the curse that came with it, meaning he had not been there to fight in her defence.
He was finally tracked down and subdued by his companions, after a mighty struggle, and taken to a secure cell at the Dun, whilst all his friends and clan tried in vain to raise a response. But the happy-go-lucky wanderer had been utterly destroyed, his heart wrenched and torn by his loss, as he tore himself apart over his guilt – and his realisation that he had never done the right thing by her and now never would.
He had never told her truly how he felt.
When they went to bury her, they found his ring adorning her finger, a sure sign of his regret and true intent. But of the beast there was no sign – as he escaped and ran wild about the land, taken over entirely in his grief by the beast within. The beast which he hated for what it had caused, for he had become that which stole his love away. There could be no rest, no return, only death.
But his country, and his people, needed him.
Eventually, his body was found – still alive, but only just – and in a state of unconsciousness from which he refused to stir. In the middle of the Great Forest, a terrible and bloody battle had been met – and the bodies of some thirty or more goblins lay strewn about his final resting place. His own body was torn and pierced by many spears, yet still a part lingered in life.
A wandering healer, a warrior woman, stumbled across the fallen beast – and, full of her own thoughts and sorrows, she recognised his tartan and healed his wounds before bringing him back to his clan at the Heartland Games. He had been absent some four months, and his friends and kin were most concerned.
Eventually, the wisdom and love of the Queens bestirred a response – and through devotion to those he owed so much, and duty to his nation, the beast was slowly quelled. Raph the man was no more, but eventually Raph the beastkin emerged. However, he was still haunted by what he was, still tore himself apart with guilt and hatred, still grieved and wailed his loss as never before.
He was a pale shadow of his former self, all fun and happiness lost to the dark fate which had befallen him.
However, it had not been all in vain – clearly someone had a plan. For his rescuer became none other than the next host of the Queen Blodwyn, brought to us by her faithful and devoted servant. And, eventually, he got to say goodbye to his dearly departed loss.
A ritual was held, to empower some items of healing from the MASH academy of which Shona had been a teacher. Raph and others accompanied the circle team, to act as guards and be ever vigilant. As the ritual progressed, a smoke arose, voices called out, it seemed as if t’would fail. But out of the blackness came a figure of light, of beauty, of joy… Shona, her pattern having left the side of the Blodwyn, whom she served so well, to pour her love and power into the items to aid her people.
She silently walked the circle, meeting the gaze and embraces of those within, before finally reaching her lost love – still trapped in his furry form. Not a dry eye remained within and without as the lovers were reunited – albeit briefly – and the warrior-bard finally found the peace and forgiveness he yearned.
However, he was inconsolable in the aftermath, a frenzy of intent as he sought – reason surpassed – to follow her home. T’was only natural, of course, after all they had suffered – and t’was not long after, in the service of his country, that he finally met his death – released at last to rejoin his lover, at the side of the Mother of Us All. For Shona had spurned the path of rebirth, remaining with the ancestors to await her beloved Raph.
And t’was good she did – for with no body to bury, and no heads for the Badman, he would need his guide to lead him safely to the afterlife. So now they can be together again, as they traverse the cycle as one.
True lovers of the heart.
All Works are © Original Author
(OC Author - Paul Martin)