Eternity Ring

"No, we have no need of council," he replied. "Her guilt is plain enough. Even now her poisons lie all about and, in their midst, lies the body of my beloved that she has stolen from me. This demands justice, and I will brook no delay. Take her to the marshes. She, and her evil influence, must be stricken from the clan at once. Down in the marshes there is punishment fit for one such as this.

Although Mebh struggled she was outnumbered and, kicking and screaming, she was forcibly dragged down to the causeway across the marshes.

"Strip her, strip her naked," the laird ordered and, as the clothes were ripped from Mebh's body, the ring fell out and onto the ground.

"What's this? What is this that she has dropped? Hand it to me," the laird ordered.

One of the men picked up the ring and handed it to the laird.

"And yet another crime to add to the heap of ignomy," he said triumphantly. He looked at the ring, turning it over and over. Although he had never seen it before it had a certain familiarity. "This ring, it was my beloved's," he said, though he knew he lied. "She must have stolen it from her." He turned it, and watched it glint in the sunlight. He went to put it on but it was too small for his fingers. "I will keep it safe. It will adorn the hand of every laird's wife from now on. Now, is the crone ready?"

"One moment, my laird," the men replied. The last shreds of clothing were ripped away and Mebh's hands were pulled behind her back and tied with twine. The knots were so tight that it cut into her flesh.

"Well, witch, do you have anything to say for yourself?"

The hand that was clamped over Mebh's mouth was removed.

"There is only one here who is a thief and a murderer and you know it isn't me. You kill me out of fear, out of spite, out of hatred. Do not pretend that you kill me out of justice. But, have a care, my laird," she spat the word, "For you may kill my body, that is of little account now that my love is dead, but you will never kill my soul, and, with my dying breath, I curse you and I curse the ring. One day I will reclaim it, be sure of that."

"Reclaim it! Where you're going you will reclaim nothing. And, as for your curses, they are of little account to me" the laird replied, although Mebh knew he was rattled. He turned to his men. "Now, we've wasted enough time. Get on with it."

With no further ceremony, she was taken to the edge of the causeway and thrown, face forward, into the marsh. Immediately she twisted around but, without the use of her hands, her struggles only worked to push her under and keeping her head above water was getting harder and harder. The laird himself went to the edge of the causeway, stepped down onto a clump of reeds, and, reaching out with his foot, he put the sole of his boot against her face and forced her under. For as long as she could she held her breath but it couldn't be forever and, with a final vision of a red kite, floating high, high in the sky above the marshes, she passed away.

Slowly, as if emerging from a dream, Rhonda and Jessica came back to the present day.

"It's hers, the ring is hers," Jessica said breathlessly.

Rhonda looked between Jessica and the body in the tank. Jessica was surely right but she knew now that giving it back would mean the end of... but anything other than giving it back wouldn't be right and, whatever her inner desires, she had to do the right thing. They both removed their hands from the gloves in the side of the tank and Rhonda reached for Jessica's hand and took hold of the ring. As with Freyja, the time was right and it slid off without a problem. Rhonda turned to the tank. The cover was sealed but, feverishly, Rhonda worked at the catches and Jessica helped. At last it was free and, together, they lifted the lid.

"You must give it to her, not me, you," Rhonda urged and she held out the ring to Jessica who took it. Rhonda reached down and lifted the leathery left hand of the body and Jessica slipped the ring onto the fourth finger. It was little more than a sigh but both women clearly heard the words, 'at last, at last'. And then the ring just seemed to fade away. One moment it was there and the next it wasn't. Without saying a word Rhonda and Jessica closed the cover of the tank and refastened the catches.

"That was... that was..." Rhonda started.

"Shh. If we talk about it we'll ruin it," Jessica replied.

For a long, long time the two women just stood there holding hands. Rhonda, who had got so used to 'hearing' Jessica that is was part of her world, was now having to get used to silence. Jessica felt an infatuation fall from her eyes. Rhonda was fine, strong, honest and the best friend she would ever have but a spark that was never really there had just died.

"I think... I think it's about time we went home. It must be very late." Rhonda said at last. She glanced down at her watch. "Good grief, it's five thirty in the morning; we've been here all night. Will you be OK, I mean, your Jeremy...."

"I'm not going back to Jeremy, not tonight, not ever. He didn't love me and I was a fool to love him. I can see that now." That was another thing that had just come clear.

"So where will you go? I mean, you're welcome to come and stay with me...."

"Thank you, really, thank you but, no, it wouldn't work. I'll go home, home to my parents' house, well, at least until I find somewhere on my own." There was a pause while Jessica gathered the right words. "Rhonda, you're the best thing that ever happened to me and I'll love you forever but I'll love you as a friend. I can't love you any other way, I wish I could but I can't. Our time together, especially our time in Scotland, will always be precious but, well, I'm not like you, you know I'm not like you and, in the end, it wouldn't work. I'm sorry, I don't want to hurt you but I have to be honest."

"I understand, and thank you for being honest," Rhonda's emotions were in turmoil. It should have been her who made that speech, not Jessica, but at least this way they would stay friends. She could live with that. "Now, come along, we really ought to get going," she said, breaking the mood forever.

Five minutes later they emerged into the car park.

"Look! Look! They're beautiful! I've never seen anything like that before. What are they, eagles?" Jessica pointed up in the sky.

"Close but they're not eagles, they're red kites. Two females by the look of them. You don't normally get them around here. They are beautiful, aren't they?"

And, as the two women watched, two red kites soared and wheeled in the early morning sunshine.

Epilogue - six months later.

"So, the big bad dyke got her heart broken by the straight girl, just as I predicted," Chris said as he put down the pints in front of them.

"It wasn't like that at all," Rhonda replied, "and if you hadn't buggered off to the States for all those months you would have known that."

"You could have phoned, or emailed," Chris protested.

"Nah, some things are best done face to face. As for Jessica and I, well, it was never really a runner."

"Too much the bimbo?" Chris joked.

"Too much the straight girl. And she's not a bimbo. Ever since the Bridie thing she's come into her own. She's on secondment to Zoe's team nowadays and is more than pulling her weight."

"And what about the mind reading?"

"Would you believe mystical rings and Iron Age witches?" Rhonda said with a laugh.

"Not really," Chris admitted.

"Then we'll have to put it down as one of those things. Anyway, it's stopped now."

"How so?" Chris was intrigued.

"It just has, OK?"

And, for the moment, Chris had to settle for that. He knew Rhonda well enough to know that he wasn't going to get any more out of her this time.

"So, what's all this about the Poulton Endowment. Do I gather that the institute has found a fairy godfather?" Chris asked, changing the subject.

"Well, I told you about Jessica being seconded onto Zoe team and her involvement with the whole Mebh, err, Bridie thing. Well, she's busy making herself the UK's number one expert on bog bodies. She's really flowered. She spends all day, every day down in the labs and, at weekends she goes home and persuades daddy to cough up a couple more million for the institute. Apart from anything else, it's helped stave off the British Museum. They were insisting that they were the only organisation with the resources to look after Bridie but, since we got the endowment, we can tell them to stuff it. Bridie is staying here for at least the immediate future and we're rapidly becoming the number one go-to organisation for bog body preservation. I gather one or two noses are out of joint down in Bloomsbury but it's about time we provincials got a crack at the whip."

"So, if everything in the garden is rosy why did you get me down here? When you called me you said you had something important to show me."

"Isn't catching up with you after all this time important," Rhonda replied.

"But you've got more up your sleeve than that. Even if you hadn't told me I can see it written all over your face," Chris protested.

"OK, well, I will admit there is something, something I wanted to show you but you'll have to wait a while," Rhonda admitted.

"I'm agog. Tell me more."

"I said you'll have to wait and I'm sticking by that. In the meanwhile did you have a fabulous time in the States? Were there lots and lots of lovely gay men to fall in love with?"

Chris started to tell Rhonda all about his trip stateside and was well into the story when, ten minutes later, he saw three people peering around the pub as if looking for someone. One was a long legged blonde who was holding hands with a rather academic looking young man. Next to them was a young woman wearing jeans and a tee shirt. As soon as he saw her Chris's gaydar pinged and, when he saw that her tee shirt boasted the interlocking Venus symbols his suspicions were all but confirmed.

"I think your surprise has just arrived," he said pointing over to where they stood.

Rhonda looked over and, as she did so, her face lit up. She stood up and waved, at which point they noticed her and came on over.

"Chris, this is Jessica, who I've already told you about, and this is Jonathan, who you may have met at the institute knees-up last Christmas. Jonathan is doing a PhD on Iron Age studies although he seems to have become rather distracted lately." This caused a certain amount of good-natured laughter. "And this," Rhonda continued, "is Sally who joined the institute at the start of the month to take up that open position in Oriental Ceramics. It turns out she's keen on motorbikes so I took her out for a spin on the Moto Guzzi and, it seems that she enjoyed it so much she wants to do it again." She turned to Sally and Chris could just see the electricity between them.

"Yeah, she gave me quite a ride," Sally joked but, although she was speaking to Chris, her eyes were firmly on Rhonda.

"Look at old Grumble-graws, totally besotted," Jessica laughed.

"Grumble-graws?" Chris queried.

"It's Jessica's nickname for me. One which you are not, repeat not, to use." Rhonda replied.

"OK, Grumble-graws, I won't. Now, come on, you lot are dry. What are we all drinking?"

And, as Chris and Jonathan stood at the bar waiting to get served, Chris looked back, watching Rhonda and Sally. There was something about them, something about the way they went together that meant that Chris knew for certain that his best friend would never be lonely again.