…The weather is being unkind again.
There are other reasons this time, however, for our sense of anticipation for the first of the Glastonbury talks being perhaps less enthusiastic than it might be. The intrusion of Christmas left little enough time for promotion of the event and then a last minute revision in the form of the talk has added further uncertainty. Morgana appears to have gone missing and Ben too seems to be less than his usual communicatory self. Doubtless he will currently be stranded in Motorway Hell somewhere in the middle of the country. Still, we are back at ‘The George’, which is no bad thing, and have just tucked in to an incredibly easy to demolish dish of braised-pork with apple and cream sauce. The Preceptor from the Templar arras eyes me in a somewhat accusatory fashion and I take to wondering which texts he would have used to bolster the faith of the ‘faithful’ during their long crusades…
…I see you.
I called, and you have come.
The time is now.
I know you fear what you will find and the veils you will part.
I see it in your eyes… in your footsteps… in the tilt of your head.
Wind in hair the colour of faded bracken, beside you he who sees the world with the eyes of the heart, while you see with eyes aflame.
I know your name… though you do not.
Not yet, little sister.
…Wen is keen to go to Winchester.
Not because it is renowned, historically, as one of the holiest places of Old Albion, oh no.
Not because it used to be our capital city and still houses a rather splendid looking Cathedral built to the same geometric proportions as the now ruined Abbey in Glastonbury, nope, not for that reason either.
So what then?
Wen wants to go to Winchester because it has got her name in it.
She now refers to it as Wen-Chester!
It is, though, partly my own fault.
I did encourage her with the ‘Wen-Co-Bank’ thing… but only as a joke!
How was I to know she would take it seriously?
How was I to know that Old Albion would be choc-a-block with ‘Wen’ words?
Teeming with them… festooned even…positively seething… a bit like I am now but in a different sense…
Doomsday: The Aetheling Thing
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Don and Wen, following the breadcrumb trail of arcane lore and ancient knowledge, scattered across the landscape of time, turn their attention to the myths and legends of Old Albion. They delve into the tales of King Arthur, asking some very strange questions about biblical family trees and exploring the many stories that abound in the very landscape of Avalon. Meanwhile, in Derbyshire, the voices of the past still whisper from the stones, opening a passage through time, place and memory to another world…
Doomsday: The Ætheling Thing
How is it possible to hide such a story… the hidden history of Christianity in Britain? Oh, there are legends of course… old tales… Yet what if there was truth in them? What was it that gave these blessed isles such a special place in the minds of our forefathers? There are some things you are not taught in Sunday School. From the stone circles of the north to the Isle of Avalon, Don and Wen follow the breadcrumbs of history and forgotten lore to uncover a secret veiled in plain sight.
Doomsday: Dark Sage
…. something was spawned up on the moor… something black that flew on dark wings. It heeds not time or place… but it seems to have developed a penchant for the travels of Don and Wen….
“Are those two still at it?”
Doomsday: Scions of Albion
Things are getting serious…
Exactly what is Wen doing with that crowbar and why is she wearing a balaclava?
All will be revealed…or will it?