For the rest of that day she worked. Beltane wasn't just a celebration. It was an opportunity for trade. Erith and Kenna made no concessions for drinking or goddesses. The afternoon was almost gone before she saw Ruan. He came to the forge to find her.
‘We need to speak,’ he said, and for reassurance, ‘Jiya's here.’
Embarrassed, Skaaha glanced at Ard to check she could be spared.
He nodded. ‘Bring water, and stay where you can be seen.’
His warning embarrassed her more. Her time alone with Ruan had never been questioned. Now it was forbidden. As they walked to the shore, with Jiya following as chaperone, the druid seemed amused.
‘I thought Ard knew me better,’ he said.
‘You want to talk about my father?’ she asked.
‘No. You changed your mind. Tell me why.’
‘I didn't change my mind.’ She paused to roll up her leggings before going into the sea. ‘I only changed what I said.’
‘So you were saving Hanick from Fion.’ As Jiya waited on the shore, he splashed behind her into the waves, caught her arm and turned her to face him. ‘That was generous and wise of you, but now we have to do this.’
In the dying light of sunset, his eyes were grey with a concern she couldn't fathom. But it didn't matter any more what the druids hoped or planned for. She'd kept faith with herself.
‘I changed what I said the first time, and spoke the truth. There was no one I wanted, except you.’ He drew back, as if struck. The waves soaked her turned-up leggings. Barnacles jagged her feet. But the pain she felt was deep inside. He couldn't say he wanted her too. ‘I hope it won't be too difficult.’
‘Difficult?’ He sounded surprised.
‘For you to do.’ Her voice almost broke. To avoid him seeing tears come to her eyes, she turned away and bent to fill the cauldron.
‘Leave that, Skaaha,’ he said, freeing the filled pot from her grasp so it sank beside their feet. From behind, he wrapped his arms round her, shifting them both to face the west. The sun was almost gone, a red curve on the horizon, sliding into the sea. Above, dusk crept over their heads, the next day about to begin.
‘What is it?’ she asked, though she knew what it was he wanted her to see.
‘Just wait,’ he said. His body curved round her back, the heat of him penetrating her clothes. Waves lapped around their knees. Leaning into her, he put his cheek against the left side of her face, stretching his right arm over her right shoulder, to point. ‘There,’ he said.
As the first shadow of night reached the spot he pointed to, brightness glowed in its grey-blue and the new crescent moon was born into the sky, the Seed moon of Beltane. From the village, voices called out as people saw it.
‘Your moon,’ Ruan murmured, his breath warm on her cheek, ‘and by its light, with my body, I will worship you. There will be no difficulty.’
That much was true, she could tell. This close, with only clothes between them, a man's desire could not be hidden. Her body shifted of its own accord, moving against him.
His arms tightened round her, muscles clenching. ‘We should go back,’ he said. ‘It seems Ard does know me better than I know myself.’
Thick fog blotted out the mountains as the procession wound through a world reduced to the length of forty strides. Vass led the way, Fion and Jiya behind him, the warriors in full honours and on horseback. Another four rode behind the cart in which Skaaha travelled, Thum among them. To Erith's annoyance, nursing Freya's baby meant her place as companion was forfeit. Kaitlyn accompanied Skaaha instead.
The remaining seven Ardvasar warriors would form Ruan's escort, but they would not leave Kylerhea for another three days. Travelling with them, the villagers would bring their stock and goods they hoped to trade. Between Skaaha's departure and theirs, treasured possessions were buried in small pits dug into the hillside. The larder could safely be left undefended. In spring, it was depleted, and passing strangers were not begrudged food or a bed, though none was expected during Beltane. The entire population of the island would soon be camped at Torrin.
On the rough tracks, the horse's hooves were almost silent. The mirk muffled all other sound. It was perfect weather. The delivery of the goddess to the festival site should be as secret as possible. The journey, timed to arrive at nightfall in case she might be seen, was almost over. Blinded by white fog and growing darkness, Skaaha huddled in a blanket. Dampness encroached.
‘Ho,’ Vass called, halting the group.
Up ahead, faint lights glowed through the fog. Peering into it, Skaaha saw tall, standing stones. Hooded, robed figures emerged from between them.
‘Blessings on you, Vass,’ an old woman's voice said. It was Suli, the high priest, more stooped than Skaaha remembered, her long staff prodding the ground before her as she walked. ‘We'll take them from here. Go you on into the village with your men. A hearty Torrin welcome awaits you.’
Weapons jangled as Jiya dismounted. ‘I'll stay with Skaaha,’ she said.
Suli turned to the warrior visionary. ‘Do you see need for a guard?’ she asked.
‘I can't see my feet in this fog,’ Jiya retorted, ‘but I'm staying.’
Wishing Skaaha luck, the warriors rode off, leading Jiya's horse. Other druids removed the bundles from the cart. Hands helped Kaitlyn and Skaaha down.
‘So now you know how the body speaks,’ a female voice said from below its hood, a voice that Skaaha had last heard calling farewell blessings in Kylerhea.
‘Nechta!’
‘Indeed, child, and we’ – Nechta waved a hand at the group – ‘are the keepers of Bride's sacred flame. Our cell oversees her festivals, and you are most welcome.’ As the cart was driven away, the three women were conducted up a rugged slope. Suli, staff probing the ground, led the way. Night and fog made no difference to her. The others saw by the dim light of lamps they carried. The ground wasn't steep, but in the milky dark and dank, it seemed they might climb for ever. Coming over a rise, Skaaha felt the ground level out. The smell of roast pig reached her, the crackle of burning. Low walls appeared. Behind them, on either side, low thatched roofs squatted on posts. The terrain underfoot changed to stone cobbles.
‘Oh,’ she said, ‘it's the ring of fire.’ The well of the sacred flame glowed.
‘You've been before,’ Kaitlyn said as they passed it.
‘Not standing in it.’ They skirted the altar, a flat, knee-high block of stone about two strides long. Aligned with the ever-burning fire, it lay pointing across the circle to a smaller ring of flat stones. Even when Kaitlyn, then Freya, had come of age here, Skaaha had paid little attention. Memories of Beltane's twin bonfires stretched back through childhood, but the ceremonies began late in the night. Children slept through most of it. Apart from chants, drums and writhing bodies in a darkness lit by leaping flames, it was daytime she recalled most, when there were more fun things to do than explore charred ashes.
‘This will be the first time, since your mother, that the great theatre fulfils its proper purpose,’ Nechta confided.
‘There is always a goddess,’ Skaaha corrected.
‘Not of her blood,’ Nechta said. ‘We go down here.’ She stepped into the ring of flat stones. Suli waited inside it.
‘Mind your feet,’ Suli warned. The faint light of Nechta's lamp illuminated an opening in the ground, stone steps leading down below it. Wooden doors that covered it had been pulled aside.
‘We keep it shut,’ Nechta explained, ‘except when using it, or sheep fall in.’
One by one, they descended. There was light below, lamps guttering among rock formations. When they reached the floor, a sloping passage wound away from them. The sound of water trickled somewhere close.
‘There are springs to drink from,’ Suli said, ‘and pools further in for bathing, with a stream-sluiced latrine near by. But, if you turn in on the right, you'll find a dry chamber with ledges to sit on. Food is waiting.’
It was a feast that waited, on wicker flat
s, the chamber dressed with cushions. The druids, having stowed the packages, joined them to eat. Spirits were high, excitement over the impending festival released in jocularity and laughter. In good company, replete with food and drink, Skaaha began to relax, becoming eager to explore this mysterious place. The senior druid of the cell, whose long grey beard reminded her of Tosk, warned her of the hazards. In heavy rain, two of the deeper passages flooded.
‘To the roof,’ he said. But she'd be shown where, and how to move through the water if she had to. ‘It's safe to wait either side, only you might get hungry.’
‘And there are no bears?’
‘No bears.’ There were several ways in, or out, but all were kept secured. The greatest hazard was in narrow tunnels with jagged limestone walls so sharp they'd cut through clothes and flesh. ‘So don't go squeezing into any,’ he said, ‘or there will be less of you coming back.’
‘We're glad we came now,’ Jiya commented dryly. ‘You must be a welcome guest at every feast.’ More laughter erupted.
19
When the meal ended, most of the priests took their leave. Only Suli and one of the younger men remained.
‘Arin will stay tonight,’ Suli said, ‘to help and show you round.’ She asked Skaaha to wait while Jiya and Kaitlyn were taken to their sleeping chambers.
‘So you know the cave best?’ Kaitlyn asked Arin as they left.
‘No,’ he smiled, ‘but I'm the smallest, which helps if you get lost.’
Suli poured heather ale into Skaaha's cup. ‘It's you who wants to speak,’ she said, when the others were out of earshot.
‘No.’
‘Yet there is anger in you, at me.’
‘You interfere in my life.’
‘Do I?’ Suli's calm scrutiny hadn't changed. Her voice revealed no surprise.
‘It was you who ensured I went to my father.’
‘Word was sent to Donal and to Ard. They came of their own accord, just as you went to the one you chose. I approved, yes. Ard is my son, and could be trusted.’
‘With Skaaha, or with Danu's heir?’
‘Both. Your line of warrior queens travels back, unbroken, to the first. There is no life-blood in the seed of men. The child's blood is from its mother. Your inheritance cannot be changed.’
‘What blood? Danu is the earth, the second incarnation of Bride, the ever-burning sun, who forged the world then became the warrior who subdued it so that her children could be sustained. They're ideas shaped to seem like women.’
‘Ruan is a good teacher.’
‘It's a story, but there has to be a smith before it begins.’
‘And you chose that. We go round in circles.’ Suli smiled. ‘Perhaps destiny finds us, Skaaha.’
‘Ruan didn't find me, nor I him.’
‘Ah, so now we have it. I gave you Ruan because he's wise, patient and was of an age to grow with you. His warrior childhood meant he'd understand yours.’
Skaaha faltered. Suli's replies made simple sense, except for one thing. ‘It was you who made him celibate.’
‘To protect you both – a young man and a growing girl, with all the closeness there can be between a pupil and her priest.’
‘You make it all sound innocent.’
‘Maybe that's because it is. Feel no shame, child. It's wise to know your enemy, and better to be wrong than right.’ Suli's tone changed from considered to conversational. ‘Ruan came to see me at Tokavaig, struggling with desire for you. Would you be happier if I'd relieved him of his post?’
Skaaha shook her head. ‘No.’
‘And he did nothing to coerce or persuade you?’
‘Nothing.’ It was hard to meet the druid's gaze. ‘Quite the opposite.’
‘Then everything is as it should be,’ Suli said approvingly. She stood and stretched stiffness from her limbs. ‘Arin is on his way back, and I must go. It's late, and these old legs grow too tired for climbing stairs.’
They walked from the chamber to the passageway. There was no sign of Arin. Suli paused at the foot of the steps.
‘This is your passage to womanhood,’ she said. ‘It will be as you believe. But carnal pleasure enacts a spiritual truth, the seeding of life into this earth. The way things are cannot be changed.’ She put her hand on Skaaha's shoulder. ‘Blessings on you, child.’
As the old woman began to climb, Skaaha heard Arin's footsteps behind her. ‘How does she do that?’ she asked as he approached. ‘Suli knew you were coming before I did.’
‘Beats me,’ he shrugged. ‘Some day, I hope to learn. Come, I'll show you where you'll sleep.’
Outside, at the top of the steps, Nechta waited for Suli to emerge.
‘I was beginning to think you'd died down there,’ she said.
‘If I had, you'd know,’ Suli told her, stepping clear of the doorway so the other druid could close it. ‘Skaaha had some questions.’
‘Ah,’ Nechta said. ‘How did that go?’
‘She asked the wrong ones.’ The old woman paused, leaning on her staff. ‘She is beautiful, isn't she?’
‘Hair like night, the darkest eyes,’ Nechta said. ‘Slim and poised as a roe deer. Her father's nose, mother's mouth, the cheekbones and brow of a woman from the north, like her grandmother. She is extremely beautiful.’
Suli nodded thoughtfully. ‘I knew that.’
‘Maybe she also has the right to know,’ Nechta said as they set off.
‘Self-will must take her where she goes,’ Suli answered. ‘The living have one right only, to die.’
‘And the dead, to live again.’
Suli glanced at Nechta, her blue eyes milky as the fog that surrounded them. ‘How much heather ale did you drink?’ she asked.
Skaaha woke in a gloomy cavern, surrounded by walls that looked like folded dough. Her bed, a mattress of straw and heather, smelled sweet and clean. It might have been midday or midnight. There was no way to tell. A lamp guttered on the wall, casting shadows that constantly crouched and leapt across roof and floor. The sound of splashing had wakened her. In sleep it seemed close. Now it was far away, barely discernible. Closer, she could hear breathing – Kaitlyn or Jiya asleep near by.
She closed her eyes again, remembering the feeling in her skin, like tiny needles, when Ruan had put his arms round her in the sea. Since then it had been difficult to think of anything that didn't include his eyes, mouth, voice, his breath against her ear, the pressure of his body and its heat, the way he moved. The faint creak of wood interrupted, soft steps. She sat up.
‘Who's there?’
A darker shadow appeared in the rock archway to the passage. It was Arin.
‘I brought breakfast,’ he said.
‘It's still dark,’ Kaitlyn's sleepy voice grumbled from behind a bulge in the wall of the chamber.
‘I'll light more lamps now you're awake,’ Arin said. ‘Jiya's been bathing. She's coming back.’
‘You can't have learned that from Suli since last night,’ Skaaha said.
‘No,’ the druid grinned. ‘Your aunt just came round the bend, with wet hair.’
Over breakfast of fish and bread, Jiya tried teasing him. ‘You didn't join me in the pool, Arin.’
‘Tomorrow, if you like,’ he said seriously.
‘I like,’ the warrior agreed. ‘We can practise for Beltane.’
‘Fucking is forbidden in Bride's domain,’ he said, ‘though you may pleasure yourself, of course.’
Kaitlyn choked on her bread. ‘Oh, wonderful,’ she coughed.
‘Or you may come to my lodge,’ the druid continued, unperturbed. ‘Both of you…’ He indicated Jiya and Kaitlyn.
‘Both of us,’ Jiya interrupted. ‘I'm a warrior. I eat druids for breakfast.’
‘This might be very pleasant,’ Arin said, with the hint of a smile, ‘but I was about to say both of you may go above, but not Bride.’
‘Skaaha,’ Skaaha said.
‘Bride till you become Danu,’ Arin corrected, ‘in practice, if no
t by name.’
He was going above once they'd eaten. Other druids would be in and out, though only women from then on. None would stay at night again. ‘If you need anything then,’ he added, ‘there is always someone’ – he pointed upwards – ‘tending the sacred fire.’ When he left, Jiya went with him, to explore, see the warriors and find a place for her morning routines.
‘And to wear out a druid, we hope,’ Kaitlyn grumbled, as she and Skaaha followed the winding passage down to the round cavern to bathe in the pool.
‘You spluttered bread everywhere,’ Skaaha giggled.
‘Well, has he got a hole in his head!’ Kaitlyn was still astounded. ‘Oh, thank you, druid Arin, we'll just go fuck ourselves now we know you approve!’ She tested the water with her toe, wriggled out of her dress and stepped in. The water came up to her knees. ‘I bet the best he can do is watch.’
‘What he said’ – Skaaha became serious, stepping in beside her – ‘would you show me how to do it?’
‘Pleasure yourself? Surely you know.’
The cave air was warm, and quite still. ‘I don't think I do it right.’
Kaitlyn laughed. ‘Can't see how you could do it wrong.’ Moving to Skaaha, she put an arm round her waist, pulled their bodies close and ran her fingers down over her friend's stomach to probe gently through her pubic hair into the moist heat of her vulva. ‘Right, there, you feel that, don't you?’
‘I do that,’ Skaaha said, drawing in a short breath, ‘and get so tense it hurts so I stop. But I hear women cry out, and I know there's more.’
Kaitlyn gave her a quick hug and stepped back. ‘I'd do it for you, but not now. Not in here.’ Gingerly, she sat down in the pool. ‘It might spoil you for Beltane.’
Skaaha sat too. The water was warmer than she expected. The surface rippled against her breasts. She was in the womb of the world, waiting to be born a woman. ‘But if it doesn't work, I'll look a fool.’
‘No, you won't,’ Kaitlyn said. ‘Ruan will, and that's not going to happen. The druids don't let anything go wrong.’
That day and the next passed quickly, the passage of time marked by the arrival of meals, visits from the priests who made the two-fold cloak, and regular reports of arrivals, whose tented lodges, flocks and herds, began to cover the hills. On the day the Kylerheans were expected, Skaaha could not keep still. A deep, unnerving excitement churned her stomach. She did not know if Ruan, on horseback and escorted by warriors, would be dressed as man or a priest. Ard and Erith, Gern and Kenna would follow in carts piled high with goods for the fair, with all the villagers and their stock bringing up the rear. It would be a fine sight, and she wouldn't see it.
Warrior Daughter Page 17
