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He cautiously unwrapped the white cloth of the parcel he had carried, revealing an unusual plant.

From his robe he withdrew a small vial, which he placed beside the basin, followed by a golden sickle, with which he meticulously carved a small section of the plant, placing it in the silver goblet.

Tristan saw the druid’s lips move, as if murmuring an enchantment.

He placed three drops from the vial and a small amount of the sacred water from the spring, pouring it into the chalice from the golden basin.

The druid lifted the goblet from the stone, cradling it in his hands, while he made three revolutions around the sacred fountain and stone, his head bent as if in prayer, whispering incantations as he walked.

When he completed his ritual, the druid walked to Tristan, who still knelt before the spring, and spoke in a voice wizened by age and knowledge.

“Tristan of Lyonesse, Blue Knight of Cornwall, I have been requested by Sir Esclados, the Lord of the Fountain of Barenton, to bestow upon you a most prestigious gift of Druidic magic.” The solemnity of the druid’s words rang like a heavy bourdon bell across the sacred forest.

“Lord Esclados has chosen the gift of l’herbe d’or —the golden herb—to express his gratitude for the safe deliverance of his beloved wife Laudine, the Lady of the Fountain.

” Tristan, still humbled before the sacred spring, searched the crinkled eyes of the ancient druid.

A thrum of power and mystery radiated from the bent, wizened frame.

The druid handed Tristan the goblet. He accepted the silver chalice with damp palms and shaking hands.

“The golden herb will grant you the means of communication with certain creatures of the Goddess.” The archdruid fixed Tristan with sage eyes, his face withered by wisdom of the ages.

“You will be able to communicate wordlessly with birds, dogs, and wolves. Command them with your thoughts. Understand messages which they convey to you.” The druid motioned for Tristan to drink.

Tristan raised the goblet to his lips. “Drink this sacred brew, the gift of Druidic magic from the Lord of the Spring. May this divine blessing of the Goddess Dana protect you, valiant warrior of Her Tribe, as you defend the sacred elements of the Celtic realm.”

Tristan consumed the bitter draft, which burned his throat like liquid fire as he gulped it down.

He returned the chalice to the druid, who rinsed it in the basin and replaced it on the flat stone.

The priest emptied the golden basin and hung it upon the branch of the tall pine tree next to the well.

He carefully rewrapped the plant in white cloth, which he cradled in his arms like a great treasure.

Inclining his head respectfully to the Red Knight, the druid departed into the forest as mysteriously as he had arrived.

Esclados helped Tristan to his feet, turning him to face the Tribe as he shouted, “Welcome to the Tribe of Dana!” As cheers erupted from the Tribe, Nolwenn rose from the group and approached Tristan, a sparkle of delight in her brilliant amethyst eyes.

“Go with Nolwenn,” the Red Knight instructed, “to conclude the initiation ceremony.”

Tristan’s breath caught as the dark-haired beauty took him by the hand.

She led him away from the campfire, deeper into the sacred forest. They arrived at a clearing where a rapid stream flowed across large smooth stones into a gurgling, effervescent pool.

Moonlight sparkled in the bubbling water as it cascaded over the rocks, the brilliant gems of a glorious, natural necklace of the Earth Goddess Dana.

Surrounded by dense woods, the clearing was carpeted with thick, soft moss, lulled by the music of the bubbling stream splashing into the deep pool. Stars winked in the night sky; the distant hoot of an owl rang out in the dark. Wings of a sea raven fluttered in Tristan’s chest.

To the right of the mossy clearing lay several large stones which formed a protective border.

Nolwenn reached under her long blue robe and removed a white cloth, which she spread over the soft forest floor.

Retrieving a vial and cup from the pocket of her robe, she placed them on a nearby flat stone.

Tristan stood still, breathless with anticipation, watching Nolwenn take the cup to the bubbling pool.

Beckoning him to join her, she said, “Come, see the waters of this sacred spring.” He walked over to her as she knelt by the stream, pointing to the effervescence.

“The bubbles flow from the center of the earth and nourish us with precious minerals.” She filled the cup, rose to her feet, and handed it to him, moonlight reflecting in her luminous eyes.

“Let us drink this gift from the Goddess as we conclude your initiation into Her Tribe.”

As he drank, the bubbles bursting in his mouth, Tristan delighted in the rich, earthy taste of the pure spring water. He returned the cup to Nolwenn, who drank from the spring and smiled up at him. “I am the physical embodiment of the Goddess, who welcomes you tonight into Her Tribe.”

She raised up on her tiptoes to reach him, placing a soft kiss upon his eager lips. Liquid fire flowed in his veins. Nolwenn removed his tunic slowly and, leading him to a flat stone, unbuckled his sword and placed it carefully on the ground.

Next, she gently sat him down on the flat surface of the rock and removed his boots, massaging his feet with capable hands.

Reaching for the small vial, she poured a few drops of oil onto her fingertips, knelt beside him, and gently cleansed the wound on his cheek.

The clean scent of sage floated in the night air.

“The herbs in this oil will soothe your skin and promote healing,” she murmured into the shell of his ear as she stroked his face.

Tristan breathed in the scent of her—green and earthy, like the forest itself—as she touched his cheek softly.

He stared at the silkiness of her black hair, watching as she gently massaged his inner wrist with fragrant oil.

She rose to her feet and placed the vial on top of the flat stone.

Taking his hand, she led him to the white cloth which she had spread upon the moss.

Kneeling beside the cloth, she patted the ground and smiled up at him softly, beckoning him to lie down upon it.

Once he was reclined on the moss, Nolwenn rose to her feet and walked over to fetch the silver cup, which she refilled in the bubbling spring.

Placing her fingers inside the chalice, she scattered droplets of the sacred water as she walked in a wide circle around the clearing.

She seemed to murmur an incantation, casting a spell of enchantment around the entire area, including the freshwater spring.

Tristan watched in amazement as a shroud of mist arose from the droplets, encircling them with protective magic.

Nolwenn took a handful of small gemstones from the pockets of her robe and, murmuring softly, placed them on the ground inside the mist which encircled the clearing.

When she finished, Nolwenn explained to Tristan, “I have cast a triple layer of enchantment for us, with the sacred water of the spring and the sacred stones, here in the heart of the sacred forest. The Goddess will protect us as I welcome you into Her Tribe.”

Nolwenn turned to face Tristan, locking his eyes with her own, as she removed her blue robe, folding it gently and placing it on the stone next to the vial. She lifted her chemise above her head, removed the amethyst talisman from her neck, and placed both beside her gown upon the stone.

She stood magnificently nude before him.

Tristan drank in the beauty of her lithe body—her small breasts, long limbs, toned muscles and narrow hips.

Her dark hair cascaded down past her waist, framing her face with black silk.

He trembled as his eyes rove over the length of her, taking in every detail, finally resting on the dark hair between her legs.

His body strained painfully against his breeches.

Seeming to sense his discomfort, Nolwenn knelt beside him and released him from the confines of his clothing, leaving him naked on the white cloth. Her hair brushed his arm as she leaned over him, her appreciative eyes raking over every inch of his warrior’s body. He wanted to jump out of his skin.

“You, Sir Tristan of Lyonesse, the Blue Knight of Cornwall, have fought courageously to defend the sacred elements of the Goddess.” Nolwenn kissed his face, his neck and chest, her warm lips igniting a fire beneath his skin. When she finally tasted his lips, he groaned softly.

“And I, priestess of the Goddess Dana, wish to express Her gratitude. And welcome you into Her Tribe.”

Her soft mouth caressed his lips, parting them with the tip of her tongue.

She sucked his lips and kissed his neck, straddling him with her lean thighs.

Tristan moaned, his body straining to reach hers as she kept her hips elevated above him.

She placed a nipple playfully in front of his lips, which he swallowed into his mouth, delighting in her soft moan.

He reached for her hips, lowering her onto him, aching to find the entrance he sought. Instead, she guided his hand between her thighs, driving him wild with the wetness he found as he stroked the delicate skin.

Finally, when he could no longer bear it, Nolwenn welcomed him into her body, plunging down onto him, enveloping him with her plush, silky warmth.

She rose rhythmically up and down, stroking his body with her own, her lips seeking his with passion and fire.

He gripped her hips tightly, pulling her down roughly onto him and thrusting deep.

Her moans of pleasure intensified his own.