"And why are you still here?" stung, Caillean replied. "The man you loved is away in the North with the Eagles after him. Is your place then not by his side?"
For a moment anger flared in the younger woman's face, to be replaced in a moment by something closer to despair.
"Don't you think I would have been away in a moment if he had asked me?" she said bitterly. "But his loyalty is given to the Lady of Ravens, and if I cannot be first with the man I love I will take the final vows of a priestess and not have one at all!" Her voice faltered as the other women turned, and Caillean gazed at her with reluctant pity, grateful that she had never been tempted to love.
"Caillean —" Eilidh hurried towards her. "I was hoping you would return today. Lhiannon is in her rooms. Go to her now. She never complains, but I know that she has missed you."
And well she might, thought Caillean wryly as she crossed the courtyard, pulling her shawl over her head to keep off the rain, since it was she who sent me away!
As always after an absence, Caillean was struck by Lhiannon's fragility. She will not make old bones, she thought now, looking at her. There was no obvious sign of illness, only an increasing translucence, but an instinct honed by years as a priestess told her that the older woman was being consumed from within.
"Mother, I am here," she said softly. "Were you wanting to see me?"
Lhiannon turned, and Caillean saw that her faded eyes were glistening with tears. "I have been waiting for you," she said softly. "Will you forgive me for sending you away?"
Caillean shook her head, feeling her own throat tighten, and crossed the room swiftly to kneel beside the High Priestess's chair.
"What is there to forgive?" she asked brokenly, laying her head on the older woman's knees. She felt her own tears begin to fall as Lhiannon touched her hair. "I should never have become a priestess, such a trouble to you I have been!" Suddenly, by that tender touch on her brow, a barrier that had begun to crack when she poured out her heart to Eilan so long ago was swept away.
"I never could tell you," she whispered, "at first I did not understand, and then I was ashamed. I am no pure maiden. In Eriu, before you found me, I was used by a man —" Her voice choked. There was a silence, and then the thin fingers began once more to stroke her hair.
"Ah, little one, is that what has troubled you? I thought there was something, but did not want to ask. You were not even a
woman yet when I took you from Eriu. How could you sin? It is only that we do not speak of such things, because there are those who would not understand. We must preserve appearances. That is why I punished you for helping Eilan. But listen, Caillean, my dear one - whatever befell you before you came here is of no importance, not to the Goddess, and certainly not to me, so long as while you dwell in Her House you serve Her faithfully and well!"
Still weeping, Caillean reached up to clasp the older woman's arms. Despite occasional exasperation, she realized then that what she felt for Lhiannon was surely as deep as any love she might have had for a man, though it was different in kind. And she loved Eilan, whose sympathy had first enabled her to face these memories. But at least neither of these loves would ever conflict with her vows as priestess.
There had been moments, during the days of Caillean's exile, when the raindrops that fell from the eaves of the Forest House had seemed to strike Eilan's heart. Gaius was gone, and she would not see him again, that much had been made clear. It was a relief to have those thoughts interrupted when Caillean summoned her.
"You're back!" she exclaimed as she pushed through the woolen hangings at the door of Caillean's chamber. "No one told me! How long have you been here?"
"A day only," said the priestess. "I was with Lhiannon."
Eilan embraced her and stood back to look Caillean up and down. "It's done you no harm, anyway." She looked brown and healthy, and the little line that sometimes marred the blue crescent tattooed between her brows had smoothed away. "Have they quite forgiven you for my crime?"
Caillean smiled. "It is forgotten. And that, child, is why I sent for you. You have been here for three years now and done well in your studies. The time has come for you to decide if you wish to become truly one of us and take your vows."
"Has it been so long?" It was hard to believe that Mairi's daughter was already a thriving toddler three years old, and her older child nearly five. And yet at the same time it seemed to Eilan that she had always been here. Her old life was forgotten, and when she dreamed of Gaius it was always of his arms around her and his voice murmuring in her ear. She could not imagine living with him in the Roman world.
"Is Dieda to take her vows now too?" They were all aware of Dieda's bitterness over what she saw as Cynric's defection, and now that he was proscribed, who could say when it would be safe for him to return? His commitment to the training of a warrior and his vengeance still commanded his first loyalty. Like the loyalty that holds Gains to his father's world, Eilan thought.
"That is between her and the Goddess," Caillean said sternly. "Now we are speaking of you. Is it still your wish to persevere among us, little one?"
Dieda will make her vows, and so shall I, Eilan thought. Why not, when neither of us can ever have the man we love?
"Yes, it is. At least —" she hesitated - "if the Goddess still wants me, knowing that my love was first given to a man."
"That does not matter," Caillean smiled radiantly. "The Goddess no longer regards anything that happened to you before you made your vows. I have finally told Lhiannon what happened to me, and she has assured me that is so. I owe that blessing to you, my dear, and I am glad to be able to pass it on!"
"There are some who would not see it that way," Eilan said bitterly.
"You must not let them trouble you." Caillean set her hands on Eilan's shoulders and stared into her eyes, and it seemed to Eilan that the dark eyes of the priestess were like the sacred pool, in which past and future could be seen.
"Listen, little sister, and I will tell you the truth at the heart of the Mysteries. All the gods, and all the goddesses too, are one, whether we call her Arianrhod or Cathubodva or Don. The Light of Truth is One, but we see it as light reflects through crystals or prisms, in many colors. Each of the ways in which men and women see their gods - or their goddesses - has a part of that truth. We who live in the Forest House are privileged to see the Goddess in many ways, and to call Her by many names, but we know this first and greatest of all secrets, that the gods, whatever they are called, are all one."
"Then does this mean that the gods of the Romans are the same gods and goddesses we serve?"
"Indeed — that is why they carve their images with the attributes of both when they build their votive altars here. But it is true that while we in the Forest House know the identity of all gods by whatever name we may call them, we believe that we serve the Goddess in perhaps Her purest form, as the divinity in all women. And so we pledge ourselves to serve Her as Mother, Sister and Daughter. This is why we sometimes speak of seeing the Face of the Goddess in the face of every woman."
For a moment the exaltation in Caillean's words held her, then Eilan felt a sudden spurt of anger. Why had they all been so angry at her interest in a Roman if their gods were all the same? Caillean had been present when she spoke with Gaius and knew how she felt about him. How could she say that those feelings would no longer matter once she had taken her vows? They were a part of her, as holy as the ecstasy she had felt sometimes when the presence of the Goddess filled her like moonlight glimmering on the sacred pool.
"What will be required of me?"
"You will take a vow to remain forever chaste unless you should be chosen by the god. And you will pledge that you will not speak foolishly of temple secrets to the unsworn, and that you will strive always to do the will of the Goddess and of anyone who shall command you lawfully in any of Her names."
Caillean paused, watching her and Eilan reflected on how much she loved her, and had come to love the other women and the life they had there. She met
the priestess's dark gaze. "To all this I will willingly swear . . ."
"And you will demonstrate that you are mistress of the skills we have taught you, and that the Goddess is willing to accept you? You will understand that I cannot describe it - indeed they say that for each candidate the ordeal is different, so even if my oath did not forbid it I could tell you nothing more."
Eilan suppressed a shiver of anxiety. Living in the House of Maidens she had heard rumors of candidates who had failed and been sent away, or worse still, disappeared. "I understand, and I am willing," she said quietly.
"So be it, then," said Caillean, In Her name I now welcome you as a candidate priestess." She kissed Eilan on the cheek; and Eilan remembered that one of the younger priestesses had done this when first she came to the Forest House. For a moment the two kisses blurred; she blinked, dizzied by the sense that she was repeating a moment she had lived many times before.
"At the full moon before Samaine, then, you shall speak your vows in the presence of the priestesses. Lhiannon and your grandfather will be greatly pleased."
Eilan stared at her. She was certainly not doing this for their sake! Caillean had asked her to choose, but had her decision in fact
been molded by her family's expectations and perhaps other forces dimly hovering in the shadows beyond perception.
"Caillean —" she whispered, reaching out to the priestess. "If I vow myself to the Goddess, it will not be because I am the daughter and granddaughter of Druids, or even because I will never see Gaius again. There has to be something more."
Caillean looked at her. "When we first met it seemed to me you had a destiny among us," she said slowly. "I feel it even more strongly now. But I cannot guarantee that you will be happy, child."
"I do not expect to be —" Eilan caught her breath on a sob. "So long as there is some reason, some purpose, in it all!"
Caillean sighed and held out her arms, and Eilan leaned against her, feeling the tightness in her throat ease as the other woman stroked her hair.
"There is always a reason, my dear, though it may be long before we understand it - that is all the comfort I can offer you. If the Goddess does not know what She is doing, what meaning is there in the world?"
"It is enough," whispered Eilan, hearing the other woman's heart beating, steady and slow, beneath her ear. "If I also have your love."
"You do . . ." Caillean's voice was almost too low to be heard. "I love you as Lhiannon has loved me . . ."
The full moon looked down from the heavens like a watchful eye, as if Arianrhod had personally decided to observe the ceremonies. As the chanting of the priestesses who had brought her here faded to silence, an inner chill pebbled Eilan's arms, though the night was warm. Had she been hoping for rain? It would have made no difference; if the Druids had allowed the weather to affect their rituals they would not have had much of a religion. She knew she should be glad that the skies had chosen to bless her initiation, but the moonlight made her uneasy.
At least the brightness should make it easier to follow the path, and all the priestesses had asked was that she walk through the forest back to the temple, which did not seem a great ordeal. Eager for it to be done, Eilan hurried into the shadows beneath the trees, away from the moon's implacable gaze.
She had been walking for scarcely the time it takes to spin a yard of thread when she realized that she was lost.
Controlling her breathing, Eilan turned. This, she supposed, must be the first test of her training, to see if she could use her inner senses to find her way. She drew on the steady power of the earth beneath her - that, at least, had not changed. The energies of moon and stars sang above, and as she opened herself to become the pillar that linked them, breathing out and in regular rhythm until she knew herself to be at the center of the universe, the fear went away.
She opened her eyes once more. The panic was gone, but the moonlight that filtered through the leaves seemed to be coming from all quarters at once, and she had no idea in which direction the temple lay. Still, if she chose a direction and walked in it she should eventually get through the forest. Once, she had been told, all this island had been covered by trees, but now the land was dotted with roads and pastures and fields. Surely she could not walk for long without finding someone who could show her the way.
Humming softly, Eilan made her way forward, and only later realized that what she had been singing was the song the priestesses chanted at the rising of the moon.
As she walked, the dappled radiance of the moon transformed the world, and she understood why it had made her afraid. Each twig was outlined in silver; the leaves glittered, and light danced and flickered from every stone . . .but now Eilan realized that she was seeing something more than moonlight. Every living thing in the forest had its own glow — a radiance that increased until she could see almost as well as in the light of day. But it was not day, for this light was shadowless, a diffuse illumination in which the colors of the forest glowed like muted jewels. With a little shiver she understood that somehow she had passed the boundary that separates the fields of men from the Otherworld.
Truly it was as her teachers had told her; the Land of the Living and the world of men lay like the folds in a cloak, and where they touched, one could pass easily from one to the other. Or perhaps it was only sometimes that the worlds came thus closely together - at times like this, when the priestesses had sung the sacred songs.
The wood she had entered was filled with oak and hazel and thorn like any other. Now some of the trees she saw were familiar, but others were of no race she knew. Next to a thriving oak she glimpsed a tree with silver bark and little flowers of gold. A rowan tree bore white blossoms and red berries at the same time, though in the human world the flowering time had passed and the berries were not yet ripening on the bough.
Blossoms filled the air with a heady perfume. Now that she could see her way she walked with more confidence, her delight almost making her forget why she had come. Dimly she realized that this seduction of the senses might be the greatest danger, and tried to remember her goal. A lingering sense of duty, more than any other emotion, drew her to a halt in a small clearing where silver birches and rowans rustled in the fragrant breeze like maidens watching a festival. She closed her eyes.
"Lady, help me! Powers that dwell in this place, I honor you — " she said softly. "Of your favor, show me where I need to go . . ."
When she looked again, she glimpsed through the trees an avenue edged with rough stones. She moved along it, walking with the graceful pacing gait the maidens had been taught to use in the ceremonies. Presently the road passed between two great uprights carved with spirals and chevrons. Beyond them Eilan saw a pool whose waters glimmered as if reflecting the light of the hidden moon.
Hardly daring to breathe, Eilan moved between the great stones, and looked down into the pool. This at least had been part of her training, for one of her first skills was to see in the scrying bowl. A sudden wind ruffled the waters, and as they cleared she realized that the bowl had been like a candle to the sun beside the power of the pool.
In its depths Eilan saw the sea, glittering emerald and sapphire beneath a sky like translucent blue glass. As she stared, pool and forest and stones all disappeared and she floated like a bird on the wing above the waves. Embraced by those waters was an island girt with cliffs of red sandstone, crowned by white temples set among groves of dark trees. On the highest hill stood a temple greater than all the others, whose roof gleamed with gold.
Eilan swooped lower, and saw a white-robed woman pacing along the parapet, gazing out to sea. There was gold on the woman's neck and wrists, gold bound her brow, and her hair was like flame, but she had Caillean's eyes. A young man emerged from the temple and knelt before her, pressing his head against her belly. As the priestess blessed him, Eilan saw the tattooed dragons coiling up his arms. And it seemed to her that a voice like falling raindrops sang -
"Alas for the land beyond the wave — Alas for the
land that none could save — The knowledge lost that gods once gave . . ."
Even as the singing faded, the scene changed. She had the sense that many years had passed. Suddenly the center of the island exploded in a great gout of ruddy flame, and the waters rose like a wall of green glass and swallowed trees and temples and all. Even as the island fell, a fleet of ships sped away from it, leaping through the water like frightened gulls. One with a dragon painted on its sail she followed as it arrowed through the water, faring northward until silver mists blotted out the sun's radiance, and the sea grew gray and green as the waters she knew.
Now she saw land once more, white cliffs and high grassy downs. Over hill and dale she soared, and came to a high, broad plain where long lines of men toiled with ropes, dragging great blocks of stone. Part of the henge was in place already and she could envision the rest of it. She had heard the Giants' Dance described often enough to recognize the great circle of stones. The man who was directing the work looked like her father, but he deferred to another who reminded her of Gaius, shorter and dark as a Silure tribesman, but vibrant with power. The second man gestured towards the henge, and she saw the dragons that had been tattooed upon his forearms ripple as the muscles moved.
The Forest House Page 22
