The two evenings of general sessions had gone well. There was a new and growing expectation amongst the Picti about who they would become as they advanced their common agenda. There was a definitive purpose, and all now understood the road map to growth—in numbers and in individual and collective power—over the coming months and years. What had yet to be clearly defined were the precise details, the practices and true nature, of their ancient religion. These were particulars that had been hidden for well over a thousand years. The first step to those discoveries, though, would come this night.

Stephanie watched as the people once again gathered to the arranged seating area by MacKay Hill. Tonight the Key of Bridei would be inserted into the Key Stone. Not the actual Key Stone, of course, but the plaster replica which earlier this afternoon had been temporarily fixed atop the mound in its proper standing position.

This night they would get beyond guessing and begin hearing from the ancient Picti themselves, about who they were, what they believed, and what they practiced. To Stephanie it was all still a bit surreal. Decades of waiting had come down to a lingering fifty minutes.

Brendan was in the house. He had asked to be sequestered until he brought the Key of Bridei out. He wanted to submit his inner being to the hag, Cailleach, in the hope of having proper eyes to see and understand all that would be revealed through the uniting of key and stone.

What would be found? Stephanie knew that the coming evening would not reveal the ultimate answer; that there would be more ceremony than revelation. The reuniting of the stones would be just the first step of several required to fully understand what they had their hands on. Those steps would include a lot of translation work.

Step one would be deciphering the Picti language on the front of the Key of Bridei using the Latin inscribed on its backside; something that Brendan could have done with relative ease, considering how well versed he had become in Latin. Instead, he opted to share in the crowd’s excitement and anticipation. He would translate the key’s ancient text in person before his Picti followers.

Step two would involve lining up the key’s six spokes with the six corresponding divisions on the standing stone. He would then be able to interpret the Rune—the hidden—language on the standing stone by using the newly-translated Picti language on the key. The Rune language had obviously not been the common language used by the Picts, but it was still exclusively Pictish.

The third step would be the longest of the tasks, which would be the translation of the hundreds of Picti standing stones that stood throughout Scotland. While some of them still weathered the elements, others were preserved and on display in various museums. Brendan and David had spent many weeks overseas traveling from place to place carefully photographing each of the standing stones so as to have all of their information available to them in the U.S.

The inscriptions discovered on the standing stones of ancient Pictland would provide, so they hoped, much valuable information on their heritage, not to mention their religion.

Stephanie walked up to the men who were working as technicians for the event. She asked that they make sure that the lighting units that were facing the mound not allow for any deep shadows on the surface of the Key Stone nor upon Brendan’s face. He would need the best lighting possible to do the first level of interpretation of the Rune language before the onlookers.

She walked up onto the mound and knelt in front of the key stone and yelled to the men, “Okay, turn them on!”

The lights came on. Though the sun was still casting its own illumination upon the stone, Stephanie could see how the ground lighting would affect Brendan’s ability to see the images properly. She called back and had them swing two of the lighting units forward a little bit and raise two of the others.

Satisfied, Stephanie walked down from the mound and back to the farmhouse. She would change into her tunic, as would both Brendan and David. No one else was required to do the same this evening. Once changed, she would sit on the front porch waiting for Brendan to end his seclusion.

9:00 P.M.

BRENDAN, STEPHANIE, AND David approached the amphitheater, Brendan taking the lead. Stephanie followed carrying the Key of Bridei on a large, blue velvet pillow trimmed in gold. David took up the rear carrying a leather-bound blank journal, into which would be written all of the translations to come over the next few weeks or months.

At the moment they were sighted, the crowd of Picti rose from their seats with great applause. The ovation lasted until the three stood atop MacKay Hill side by side.

“My dear brothers and sisters of the Redeeming Age,” began Brendan, “this marks the fourth day of our assemblage. I hope that this gathering has, so far, met with your approval and expectations.”

Again the crowd cheered.

“Tonight we gather for our final night of formalities. Tomorrow will be our farewell feast and celebration, and the following day most of you will be on your way back to your homes. I am pleased to have your priests and priestesses remain one additional night with us before rejoining you in your homelands. They will be a part of a special rite of initiation into the Picti faith.

“Do not forget what you’ve seen and learned here. Take your knowledge and plant it into fertile soil that it may yield an even greater harvest for next year’s gathering.

“Much of what the Home Coven learns from the ancient Picti standing stones throughout Pictland over the next several weeks and months will be disseminated to your respective priests and priestesses. Respect them. Honor them, for in doing so, you honor Stephanie, me, and the Home Coven.

“Do not allow our enemies to come between you and your destinies. Christlings, Jews, and Muslims will hate what we stand for, as much as Muslims hate Christlings and Jews. You will hear from them that we are an illegitimate religion. But the fact of the matter is that we will now have ancient writings that are older than those that established Islam. I believe that when we’ve compiled all of the information from the Picti standing stones around Scotland, we will have a holy book that rivals that of the Torah and New Testament. You will be able to hold your heads up high knowing that you have one of the most accurately-translated books of religious and cultural writings to ever exist.

“Be patient with us, though. With hundreds of stones to translate, we may not have it ready next week.”

The crowd let out a rumble of light laughter.

Brendan turned to Stephanie and gave her a big smile. She returned it in kind. Walking to the outstretched blue pillow and taking the Key of Bridei into his hands, he turned to face the crowd and held the stone high above his head.

“Ladies and gentlemen of Pictland! I give you the legendary Key of Bridei!”

The crowd erupted into shouts and screams and whistles and thunderous applause. A single flash of light came from the official photographer’s camera. (No one had been permitted, for sake of security, to carry onto farm property any photographic devices, including all of the cell phones that had to be left in hotel rooms.) Brendan stood there for a good thirty seconds before lowering the key and turning toward the plaster key stone.

Kneeling down before the massive standing stone, Brendan reached up and placed the key into the hole at its center. It fit perfectly and didn’t require him to hold it in place. He stood and looked at it with awe. For fifteen-hundred years this key had waited to fulfill its destiny for the Picti people. Moving out of the way to allow the crowd to see the joined stones caused the applause to ratchet up another notch. Another flash of light commemorated the moment.

“My Picti family!” shouted Brendan in order to quiet the throng. “My family! Shh! Please!”

The applause and raucous vocalizations hushed.

“My family, this is the moment that I’ve been waiting for nearly my whole life.” Brendan cleared his throat as emotion began to rise up within him. “From the first realization of who I really was and whence I had come, I have been dreaming of the moment at which I would become fully alive. This is that moment! Please, honor this hallowed event with silence as I strive to do the first translation of the ancient text.”

Brendan turned again to the stone. Stephanie knelt at his left and David to his right. He spoke softly to each of them. “Aileen and Cowan, I am honored to have you both here with me tonight. Cowan, are you ready to document what I speak to you?”

With a smile and a nod of his head, David opened the journal to the first page and responded. “Yes, and with great pleasure.”

Brendan’s heart was pounding. “Then let us begin.”

With those four words, he reached up and removed the key. Flipping it over to the back side, he began to silently read in Latin what he told David to record in English; the titles of each of the six sections.

“Family.”

He paused as he rotated the key to read the next title.

“Royalty.” A turn of the stone.

“Land.” Another turn.

“Warriors.” Turn.

“Sea or Ocean.”

After turning the stone in his hands one last time, Brendan paused and just stared at the stone. After a few moments he flipped the stone over to look at the Pictish writing and then flipped it back over again. Brendan’s blood ran cold. No. … No, no, no, no, no. His breathing became heavy as his heart pounded in his chest. He fought to keep his composure and to not look over to either Aileen or Cowan.

David asked, “Brendan, you okay?”

“Uhh… yes. Sorry. I… I’m okay. Just a little bit of a memory lapse when it comes to my Latin usage.” He forced a smile. “Umm … the last title is Religion.”

Brendan again just stared. Think, Brendan! Think! You can salvage this situation. It’s okay. This can still work. Brendan reached up and put the key back into the key stone and made a show of kissing the key. He put a big smile on his face, got up and faced the crowd.

STEPHANIE KNELT NEXT to Brendan, excited to be this close to what was taking place. She looked across to David who also had a grin like that of a little boy receiving a big, wrapped birthday present.

Brendan … how to describe him? Giddy? On the verge of ecstasy? She wanted to laugh and give him a big hug.

He began to give David the titles of each section of the key and key stone.

“Family … Royalty … Land … Warriors … Sea or Ocean. …” then he stopped.

Stephanie was already looking up at Brendan when she saw him flinch. Was that fear?

“Brendan, you okay?” she heard David ask, but she didn’t look away from Brendan’s face.

“Uhh… yes. Sorry. I’m okay. Just a little bit of a memory lapse when it comes to my Latin usage.” He produced a smile that looked painted on; completely disingenuous. “Umm … the last title is Religion.”

Again Brendan stared at the stone.

What’s going on? She saw perspiration begin to form on his forehead. Stress!

Brendan then placed the key back into the standing stone and kissed it. He then turned around with a smile that appeared genuine, though she could tell that he was now having trouble controlling his breathing.

She and David both stood and moved to stand at Brendan’s sides.

Brendan looked over to David and quietly said, “Cowan, would you do the honors of reading the six areas of Picti life represented by the key and key stone? Let them know that each of these will be meticulously studied and translated.”

David followed the request as Stephanie witnessed sweat begin to roll down Brendan’s face, down his neck, and into his tunic.

Something terrible has just happened.

She, too, began to sweat.Brent knew that he had to raise a level of awareness in the mind of his captain, so he stood before his closed office door, took a deep breath, and knocked. The man had pretty much mocked him the last time they’d met and Brent had bit his tongue. What would happen this time?