by L. M. Roth
The chosen circle, she explained to her husband, were those women who were the most devout followers of the goddesses. There were three in all: Ingheane the Maiden, Ainah the Mother, and Pandra the Crone. They represented the stages in a woman’s life and had been revered and worshiped in secret rituals that only the chosen could participate in. It was said that the three often traveled together and that one must beware of coming upon three roads that met together for there a sacrifice must be made. And it was usually a sacrifice of the hapless traveler. If there was no one to make the sacrifice, then the goddesses would take the life of the traveler.
Each had their own festivals that all of the villagers celebrated openly. The Spring Festival honored Ingheane, and the maidens of the village were presented at the Common and honored by the young men who offered them flowers in tribute to their beauty. But there were darker rites celebrated by the chosen ones after the rest of the village had retired for the night.
Ainah reigned over the Midsummer Festival when summer was at its height. The mothers of the village were brought forth and waited upon with a great feast that was prepared by their daughters and sons in thanks for the many meals their hands had prepared for their children. At midnight another rite took place, it was rumored, one known only to those who participated.
Pandra, Judoc said, was often called evil personified. She was said to have the heart of a dragon: greedy for life, grasping for power, and groping for the unwary innocent who crossed her path. Because her maidenhood and motherhood was a thing of the past, she was bitter and clutched at what life remained to her. She was the one goddess who did not have a public celebration, for she was altogether wicked. It was said that those who wished to exert power over another visited her priestess in secret and paid the token for a spell. The identity of the priestess was known only to those in the chosen circle: the villagers did not have knowledge of who she was.
There were two gods whom the Eirini had worshiped. One was Eoghan, the sun god. He was the fount of all wisdom and those who wished for enlightenment visited his shrine and left a gift. This shrine might be under a tree, or it might be at a well. It varied from village to village. If it was a tree, a ribbon was left to adorn a branch. If it was a well, a coin was tossed in as payment.
Eoghan was also praised for bringing the light of the sun following the darkness of winter. He was thanked at the Spring Festival for the Return, the time when life returned to the earth and all gave thanks to him for the warmth of the sun.
Cadel was the god of war. He was called on before any battle, and this ritual was the only one made known to all of the Eirini: he demanded a life in exchange for protection and victory for the rest of the warriors. Lots were drawn and the victim selected.
But all of the Eirini feared the most powerful deities of all, the Tuadan. They were said to be fallen from their former state of glory in punishment for their wickedness. They had been cast down to earth and haunted the hills and trees, lying in wait for hapless wayfarers to enter their domain that they might make sport of them.
Nor did they lie in wait for trespassers, but roamed about after nightfall seeking those unwary enough to be abroad after the sun went down. There had been many villagers and strangers passing through who paid no heed to warnings and were never seen again…
They were placated at the annual festival of the Gathering, when a sacrifice was made to appease them, hoping it would suffice for the next year and the village be left alone. It was just this ritual that Dag and Marcus and their friends had witnessed in secret, only to reveal themselves and raise back to life by the power of Dominio the man who had just been sacrificed. The miracle had resulted in the entire village giving their hearts and worship to Alexandros and pledging to serve Domino.
That had been more than twenty years ago, and Dag never thought he would see the Eirini in the village of Leith turn back to their idol worship. What had happened to bring that about?
The maidens were all assembled on the Common. His own daughter Maelys was standing with pride among them; Nolwenn was too young to be courted and must wait for another year. As the maidens chattered excitedly awaiting the return of the young men, Dag noted that Niamh cast covert glances in his direction, and his daughter-in-law Melisande did the same.
Why, he asked himself, would Melisande watch him so closely? She was yet a newcomer to Leith and not in the confidence of the native women. They treated her with courtesy and friendliness, but she did not have any special friends among them. Only his daughter Nolwenn treated her with a certain awe that he thought derived from her foreign origins. Nolwenn was always intrigued by any novelty, and therefore Melisande would be of special interest to her.
Maelys continued to treat Melisande with a guarded wariness. Dag and Judoc had thought it stemmed from a sense of rivalry, but the rift with Cort and Brenus had affected Maelys deeply. She loved both of her older brothers, and she resented Melisande causing trouble between them. Her treatment of her sister-in-law bordered on rudeness, speaking to her only when necessary and answering her curtly when forced to acknowledge her presence.
Dag realized with a start that some activity was afoot on the Common. The young men had returned and were shyly presenting flowers to the maidens of their choice. The flowers were received with demure thanks, and then the young people broke forth in dancing. As the pipes played they clasped hands in a circle and leapt and spun and laughed in merriment.
And then it happened: Niamh suddenly walked through the circle of dancers and stood at the center of the Common. She waited until all eyes were fixed on her, and then she spoke.
“Praise be to Dominio for the maidens and young men,” she intoned as she lifted her arms heavenward.
“And thanks be to Eoghan for the Return.”
There was a collective gasp from those assembled. The name of Eoghan had not even been mentioned among them in many years. Dag turned to shed a glare of rebuke on Laig, who had disregarded his admonition.
As he turned to face him, he was met with the triumphant gaze of his daughter-in-law, Melisande, who openly laughed at him.
Chapter XXXIII
The Mound
Wherever he turned, Dag encountered furtive glances and downcast eyes among several of the women. They planned this, Dag thought to himself as a queer fear clutched him, depriving his lungs of breath for a moment. He became dizzy and swayed on his feet. With a gulp of air he recovered himself and met the eyes of Judoc.
Say something, they implored him. Anything, but say something!
Dag cast aside his fear and plunged into the fray.
“My good friends,” he began, “it has been many years since the worship of Eoghan, the Tuadan, and all of the other deities of Eirinia was stopped in our village. And Dominio has blessed us richly for our faithfulness to Him. Have we lacked for any good thing? Known want of any kind? No, for He has blessed us for our faithfulness to Him!
“How is it then that name of Eoghan has been called on here this day? Have you forgotten the goodness of Dominio, and the sacrifice of Alexandros for your sake? Why do you thank Eoghan for anything when he has no power except what you give him?”
A murmuring broke out among them and for a few moments Dag was at a loss for action.
Please, Dominio, he prayed. Show me what to do. These are my friends and I love them. But show me what to do.
It was Laig who spoke for them.
“It’s true that we have served Dominio all of these years. Yet we have not forgotten the gods who blessed these lands long before you arrived here and told us we were wrong to honor them. And of late they have cried out to us, reminding us of who we are, and what we owe to them. We may serve them and Dominio, for they are all the same.”
“Aye!” “Yes, that is so.” “It is right that we should do so.”
Such were the agreements that Dag heard all around him.
I can not believe that such a thing is happening, he agonized. What has blinded them to suddenly turn back to thei
r old gods?
“You are wrong!” he cried out.
The murmuring ceased abruptly as they all turned to face Dag.
“There is One God and His name is Dominio!” Dag declared. “You are mad to turn back to idols, and any found doing so shall be punished for it. Do you not remember how we tore down the high places of the Tuadan, and you were warned what would happen if you ever restored them or turned back to your idolatry?”
The men looked uncomfortable and cast down their eyes, shuffling their feet on the ground. But the women gave Dag look for look and clustered together in open defiance. He stared them down in a silence that was so total that he did not even hear a cough or an intake of breath. Finally, Niamh spoke into the deafening silence.
“You are wrong, Dag,” she rebuked him. “You have taken away our very identity, replacing it with the name of Alexandrians. We were a free people long before you came here, long before the Valerians overran us and forced us to pay tribute to them. We have seen the light now and you will rule us no more.”
A roar erupted from the screams of the women as they agreed with the defiant words of Niamh. Dag’s daughter Maelys was openly distressed as she beseeched her father with her eyes not to quarrel. The face of Judoc was impassive as she faced the other women.
She came to stand beside her husband. And then Cort and Siv came along with Brit. They were joined by Dirk and Brand. At last, with a wavering look at the young men of the village, came Maelys.
It was then that Dag noted that Brenus, Melisande, and Nolwenn stood with the villagers.
It is Melisande, he rued, she has turned my own son against me and taken my daughter with him. It was an evil day when she joined this family.
Cort strode forward and faced the women.
“You are in sin and have been deceived,” he warned. “Repent or you shall be visited with judgment and rebuke by Dominio. For He alone is God, and He shall not share His glory with another. Break your allegiance to your false gods or you shall face the wrath of Dominio.”
He did not wait for their response but took Dag by the arm and marched with him arm in arm to his father’s hut.
Brenus was just finishing a fruitless day of hunting. What ailed the forest creatures? At this time of day there was usually an abundance of rabbits and squirrels scampering through the woods. But today they were nowhere to be found. And the entire forest was silent…
He tossed his bow upon the ground, giving vent to his frustration. How he hated going back to face Melisande with no meat for the evening meal! All she had to do was flash him a look from those green eyes and he knew her wrath was aroused. She never raised her voice to him, but her mockery cut him deeply, casting doubt on his very manhood at times.
What a creature of contradictions she truly was! So soft and inviting for the most part, yet so hard and implacable if her will was thwarted. But she still wove a spell around him that he found impossible to resist. He would give her anything, anything to prevent that disdainful sneer from spreading across her lovely face.
A rustle in the grass caught his attention. Did one of the woodland creatures roam abroad to face the day at last? He picked up his bow and crept stealthily in the direction of the sound.
He kept an alert eye open for the sight of his prey. But the grass revealed nothing…
Another sound was borne to his ears, one that startled him deeply. A step was heard in the grass behind him, so stealthy that he had not heard it at first. He turned back in the direction of the step: there was nothing to be seen.
Surely a rabbit is attempting to hide from my bow, he assured himself.
He took a step further in the direction of the sound. And heard another step behind him. He took a step: another step followed his. He looked around frantically for a glimpse of his stalker.
There was no one there…but now he saw that the grass behind him sank under the imprint of an unseen foot.
With sweat pouring down his forehead he began to run frantically, looking around in vain for any sign of life. He did not notice that his panic had taken him deeper into the forest until he spied a mound rising from the sea of grass before him.
That mound. He recalled glimpsing it years before, the day his mother had warned him not to forsake the path. He had not heeded her, and it was Dag who had dragged him back to the path in the woods.
Now it rose before him again, but with a difference. For surely it had not glowed before? Yet now an eerie light radiated from it for reasons unknown. The sun was behind him and the mound should have been in shadow. But it glowed…
Brenus turned back to where he had come. He heard it again; the sound of the footstep. The glowing mound was before him and the unseen footsteps behind him. He cried out and ran off to the side to escape them both.
He tripped over a fallen branch and tried to scramble to his feet. Too late he turned to look behind him and a scream of pure terror erupted from his lips…
The evening meal was ready to serve. Judoc had invited Brenus and Melisande to sup with them, in part to smooth over the strife from the Spring Festival and their siding with the villagers. She placed bowls of vegetables and freshly baked bread upon the table. Brenus had not yet returned with any meat for stew so the vegetables and bread would have to suffice.
Then she caught herself up with a start. How odd, that Brenus had not returned from hunting, although he had left hours ago. Even if he found nothing he should have come home long ago.
Judoc went to the door of the hut to spy the horizon. She did not see anyone walking from the direction of the woods, nor see any sign of Brenus.
Ah, but here was Melisande strolling toward the hut now. She would have news of her husband.
Judoc opened the door to let her in and Melisande ducked her head demurely and smiled at her mother-in-law.
“Is Brenus on his way?” Judoc inquired of her.
“Brenus?”
Melisande was at a loss for words.
“I have not seen him. I thought he had already arrived here to bring you the meat for the stew.”
A strange fear came over Judoc. How many years had it been since her husband Denzel set out to hunt, never to return? And she knew with a sudden certainty that an evil fate had befallen her eldest son…
The two women looked deeply into the eyes of the other, their faces marked by an identical fear as the realization dawned on them both that something terrible must have happened to Brenus.
They waited. Even after they were joined by Dag and the other children, they scanned the horizon for a sign of Brenus.
But Brenus did not return.
Chapter XXXIV
Distressing Tidings
Marcus read with growing fury the letter he had received from Kyrene that morning.
How could the girl do this! Felicia had promised her mother to return to Lycenium after she spent a year being mentored by Kyrene at the school in Solone. Yet his daughter had run off, leaving a note for her mentor that as her mother had broken her promise and was going to return sooner than expected, that she did not feel the need to honor her part of the bargain.
He flung the letter to the floor. With one stroke Felicia had dishonored her mother and caused distress to his old friend, who had been entrusted with the care of her. Add violation of hospitality to the charges against her! He knew Kyrene’s tender heart and how she had no doubt been upbraiding herself for the girl’s flight.
The door to the library was flung open and Tullia entered with a vase of fresh lilac which she placed on Marcus’ desk. She breathed deeply and appreciatively as a smile of rapture lighted her lovely face. He decided to grant her a few more moments of ignorant bliss before breaking the bad news.
“Is there any month lovelier than May?” she breathed as she came and bestowed a kiss on her husband’s cheek.
Then she surprised him by dropping onto his lap and snuggling close to him.
“It was a day such as this one when we wed, do you remember?” she whispered in his ear.
He did remember. They had waited until a sufficient time of mourning had passed for his parents and Felix, and then had wed the following spring on a May day that made them gasp in awe at its emerald loveliness, so green and glowing as though they had been encapsulated in the heart of a jewel. Surely Dominio Himself had smiled on them from Heaven that day and blessed it with His approval and presence.
The memory quickly faded as a frown of anxiety furrowed his brow. Tullia was quick to notice his preoccupation.
“What ails you, Marcus? Was it something I said?”
He looked at her and pondered how best to break the news of their daughter’s disobedience and rebellious flight. Deciding that her own words were best, he handed her Kyrene’s letter which quoted the note left by Felicia.
“Because my mother has broken her promise to allow me to remain a year, I have decided that I will break my promise to her. I shall not be returning to Lycenium until such a time as I have deemed sufficient. Do not try to find me: I know where I am going and shall be quite safe.
“Thank you, dear Aunt, for your tender care of me and your constant encouragement. Words will never serve to express my gratitude for all you have done for me since last summer when I arrived. You have given me a confidence I never possessed before, and I feel quite prepared for whatever adventure may lie ahead of me on the road I have chosen.”
Tullia leapt to her feet and permitted herself the luxury of a scream of utter frustration.
“That miserable, faithless child! I shall sentence her to bread and water for an entire month when I find her! How could she do this to us, Marcus? How could she!”
Tullia paced the floor of the library in growing agitation, turning this way, and then that, with no clear sense of any direction to take. She clutched the letter and read it again, then returned to her aimless pacing as she muttered to herself. Accustomed to seeing her composed in all circumstances, it was clear that her daughter’s behavior had struck some cord deep within her and disturbed her peace of mind.
