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words. Tolan knew that his duty, his ultimate loyalty, belonged not to this worldly lord but to the ancient ones who had sculpted this landscape and whose power yet lived in the earth beneath his feet. The ones whose blood pulsed through his body even now.
    â€œThen we must continue searching,” Geoffrey replied. Standing, he walked away with a brisk stride, not even waiting for Tolan to speak again.
    Who would put Geoffrey of Amesbury to such a task? Who knew of stones carved with symbols of the old gods? The circles Tolan knew of or had seen always included more than eight stones. But the stories handed down to him spoke of other circles, hidden ones that always contained one pillar for each of the seven Old Ones and one for the priest who was needed for rituals. And an altar or recumbent stone for sacrifices. Eight stones standing around one. Tolan wondered who would be seeking out that circle now.
    As the reddened area on his arm burned anew, Tolan suspected he might know.
    They spent the next day searching or searching again the huge stones there. Tolan feigned it at the beginning, but by the end of the day, he did not doubt that there was some power here. The ground around some of the stones, the ones that carried small symbols of axes, felt the same to him as the edges of his own lands. But the vibrations never grew stronger or louder to him.
    And that night, Tolan’s dreams were filled withimages of ancient priests leading their people in procession into the circle. Carrying gifts and sacrifices, they worshipped their gods as they had for generations. When he woke, his hand was buried in the loose soil and he knew that the dreams had truly been visions of the past events on this land. Another gift from his own gods.
    For the next sennight, they made their way across the area, wending along small roads and bigger ones, through the farmland and hills, turning north and then east until they reached a huge mound that could be seen for miles. These lands belonged to various local noblemen and some to the nearby abbeys and churches. But this mound had existed for longer than Tolan could even guess. The ruins on top spoke of long disuse, so Lord Geoffrey traveled past it without stopping.
    When they reached the monoliths scattered in larger circles across the countryside at Avebury, Lord Geoffrey turned them south along the road that would lead past Tolan’s own lands that bordered on Lord Geoffrey’s. Tolan hoped they would simply ride on by it, but the nobleman called a halt and summoned Tolan to his side.
    â€œThis is your farm, is it not, Tolan?” Geoffrey pointed to the thick copse and the fields surrounding it.
    â€œAye, ’tis mine,” he said, not able to keep the pride from his voice. Not many could claim that they owned land, but his family had acquired this and passed it down from father to son over uncounted generations.
    â€œWhat lies in the woods there?”
    A deep, piercing fear cut through him andsimmered in his gut at the question. He turned away to try to control his reaction before answering, “Only thick growths of old trees, my lord.”
    â€œSo you have walked the land there? You know it well?”
    â€œI have, from the time I was a boy.”
    As Lord Geoffrey thought on his words, staring at the woods, Tolan could feel the rumbling coming from under the earth, traveling out in waves from the woods. He glanced at the rest of the group, wondering how no one else was aware of the life and the power flowing here. It called to him here more strongly than any other place he’d been.
    â€œWhy do you not cut those down and cultivate the lands?” the lord asked.
    â€œI have enough work to fill my time, my lord,” he replied. “I am hoping that my son will take over this.”
    â€œWho lives there now?” Lord Geoffrey turned his horse and nodded toward the small house built just outside the circle of trees. The small curls of smoke