Besieged: Stories from the Iron Druid Chronicles(52)
But looking back on it now, it was what happened at Boora Bog that made Siodhachan turn out the way he did. Because I didn’t train him the same way as I’d been taught, did I? I didn’t present Gaia’s law and Druidic law as one big monolith that must be followed at all times. I taught him that sometimes ye could break those Druidic laws—or other laws, for that matter—and get away with it if ye truly needed to, because Gaia wouldn’t care.
So that’s why he had the stones to steal Fragarach from the Tuatha Dé Danann and make this deal and that awful bargain. If he was going to be the best Druid he could be, he needed to stay alive and grow powerful, and if he broke all the rules and cheesed off all the Fae in the process, well, it was justified to his way of thinking, because he always served Gaia.
Greta props herself up on an elbow and stares at me. “Are you telling me that you’re responsible for his behavior?”
“Nay, he’s responsible for his own bollocks. I’m to blame for teaching him to question authority, its priorities and motivations, and to fight that authority when he saw it conflicting with Gaia’s interests.”
Me love frowns and gives a tiny shake of her head. “Why would you do that when it could turn him into the same kind of monster that Dubhlainn was—a lawless predator?”
“Because I didn’t want him to become a bitter cynic like me, disillusioned and questioning me whole training like it was all a lie! I wanted him to have the whole truth and be a skeptic, which is a very different thing. And besides, I knew going into it that if he did turn out bad, the Morrigan would make sure he got cut down. But that’s clearly not what happened. The way he tells it, the Morrigan actually wound up protecting him for a long time.”
Greta blinks, trying to absorb that information and make it fit with her experience of him.
“It comes down to the fact that he serves a different value system than any human one. I pointed out that Gaia was interested in protecting the vitality and variety of life on the whole planet. Broadly speaking that’s difficult to argue, because unless you’re falling prey to this predator or that, that basic value is pure and good and beneficial to all concerned, if ye take the long and wide view. But humans, I taught him, rarely take that view. Human laws think of protecting humans first. Though if ye look closely at most human laws, they tend to benefit a narrow few over the good of all humans. I’m sure ye can think of a law or three that protects someone’s personal profit rather than what’s good for everyone.”
Greta rolls her eyes. “That’s easy. The tax code protects the rich, and lots of voting laws protect a white majority, and arbitration clauses protect corporations from getting sued when they rip people off, and we could go on all day.”
“Good, so ye see me point. That’s basically the core of what I taught him: Protect Gaia first, protect humans second, and question everything else. That probably led him to construct a strange moral compass. And looking at Granuaile, I wonder if he might have taught her in an even more extreme fashion—that Gaia’s law is all that matters and human laws are just shite to carefully step over in pursuit of defending the planet.”
“Huh. We kind of think that way too. The pack, I mean. We step around the law constantly to protect our own interests. What I want to know is this: Are you planning on teaching your current apprentices the same way?”
“I don’t know. Well, no—it’s already different. I’m not half so angry as I used to be. I’m still boiling over what’s been done to the planet since the Morrigan put me in long-term storage, but I think I understand that all people are protecting what’s theirs and rarely think beyond what they’re going to eat in the next week. And I understand that training minds to think differently is a long road, but at least I have the time to walk it. These are good kids and we’re in a good place now.”
“Yes.” Greta pats me chest a couple times, falls back and looks up at the sky with me, and sighs her contentment. “That we are, Owen.”
“I’m glad I get to walk this long road with you, love.”
Greta giggles, which is not the reaction I’d hoped for. “Are you getting sentimental on me, Teddy Bear?”
“Nah, I just injured me gob. I have no idea what the hell just happened. I was trying to grunt and it came out all wrong.”
She chuckles and drapes a leg across me, planting a kiss on me cheek. “I think someone’s told you about foreplay.”
“I thought the fighting was the foreplay.”
“Ha!” She kisses me again. “You’re not still bleeding anywhere, are you?”
“I’m good to go.”
She shifts all her weight on top of me, cups me face in her hands, and says nose-to-nose, “Let’s have that long walk, then.”
This story, narrated by Perun, takes place after the events of Staked, Book 8 in The Iron Druid Chronicles.
When I am invited to this thing called “Cuddle Dungeon,” I am thinking perhaps my English still not so good, or maybe these are very strange peoples. Dungeon is prison underground and full of many unpleasant things—rats and bad smells and moist coughing noises. Cuddles is soft and warm times before or after sex. I would not think to put these things together, but these modern peoples do.